Drawing her arms tight around her, she crept back into the darkened house. Sitting down on the couch, she slowly rocked back and forth, tried to quiet her fearful mind. As she stared at misted windows, she realized the gray had thinned into whirling tendrils; now thick, now clear. Through the front window, the glow of street lamps became more than pricks of yellow fuzz. The gray cover was dissipating. She slammed her fist into the palm of her opposite hand.
"Why, damn you, why?" she cried. "Always you wash around the beach for hours. Why are you fading away so soon?" Again she checked the time. Five o'clock. Her panic rose—the guards would be coming back soon. "Vickie where are you?" she moaned.
"Mama." The soft voice barely penetrated the room. A tapping, quick and light, cracked like thunder in the silence.
Ellery jumped at the sound, raced to the French doors, and flung them wide. Laughing and crying, she gathered her daughter and granddaughter into her arms and pulled them into the room.
"I was so scared, Vickie. So scared." She began to cry.
"Shhhh, Mama. We're home now," Vickie said. "Patrols were out, and we couldn't come straight in. Verlin brought us as far as he could. We—Dani and I—had to walk the rest of the way." She leaned down to the child standing beside her. "Danielle, this is my mother—your grandmother. What do you think?"
"It's too dark. I can't see her," the child said softly. The sudden blast of the returning Tagia's airfoils vibrated through the room, drowning out the laughter of the two women.
"We can take care of that problem, Danielle. But we'll have to go into the bathroom. Grandma can't turn her lights on just yet," Ellery said.
"Okay. You can call me Dani if you want to."
"All right—Dani it is." Holding the child's small hand, Ellery tucked Vickie's arm under her own and led the way to the guest bathroom. Once inside the windowless area, she turned on the overhead light.
Looking down at the short cut blond hair and the startling blue eyes, Ellery's heart thumped with memory. Standing so solemn eyed, her face filled with curiosity, the child was Vickie. Tears welled as the childhood images flashed, changed, matured. She raised her eyes to her daughter.
"She's beautiful," she said.
"You're really old, Grandma."
Ellery wrapped her arms around the child and hugged her close. "You not only look like your mother, you sound like her. I'm seventy-eight, Dani. Yes, that's pretty old. I'm not sure it's really old, though. What do you think, Victoria?"
Reaching out, Vickie smoothed her fingers across the deep lines etched into her mother's face. She brushed a strand of the silver hair behind a small ear. "You've always been young to me, Mama. You still are," she whispered.
"Is Grandma a Dakota person, too?" Dani tugged at Vickie's hand.
"Yes she is. One of the first. It was Grandma who gave us the gift."
"Does she know how to do the Chi as good as I do?" The expression on the child's face implied that she hardly thought so.
"No, Darling. I don't know how to do the Chi. But then, when you're really old, like I am, you don't have to know how to do it. That's what little girl Dakotas are born for—to teach other Dakotans how to dance."
"I know," Dani said gravely. "My mother told me that when I was young." Her face brightened. "I can show you how I do it, Grandma. It's really easy." She reached out her hand.
Ellery chuckled. "You can show me later, Dani. When I'm not so sleepy. Okay?"
Vickie half shrugged her shoulders while tossing her hands out to her sides. "What can I say, Mother. It's in her genes." She rolled her eyes upward.
"In more ways than one, Vickie."
"I'm hungry, Grandma."
"Then we'd better fix you some breakfast, hadn't we?"
Ellery switched off the light. The rooms had lightened to a pale brown and she walked quickly to the kitchen. "Remember, Dani. No lights until the clock says six-thirty."
The child nodded as she sat next to her mother.
With glad heart, Ellery did what she loved to do; she cooked breakfast for her family. As bacon crinkled in the pan and bread browned in the toaster, she brought her daughter up to date with brief vignette high points on the happenings of the past five years. When she reached the part involving Dane Wyland, Vickie's face lit up.
"I'm so glad he's been here for you, Mama. He was such a part of my life that I had a difficult time not writing to him, but I kept looking at Dani and knew I couldn't take the chance. When Ned died, I wanted desperately to talk with Dane. He could always show me the things to remember and the things to forget." She stared pensively at the cookie pantry and a quiet smile played at the corners of her mouth.
"He was in love with you, you know," Ellery said as she placed platters of food on the table. "I suspect he still is."
"I know. Just before we walked down the aisle together, he squeezed my hand in a soft kind of way, and I knew. Sometimes, I have wondered what my life would have been like if I had . . . " Vickie shrugged. "It was a long time ago."
"My mommy loved Mr. Wyland, too." Dani's eyes were wide and luminous. "I'm named after him and you, you know. Can I have some orange juice, Grandma?"
"Of course, child." Ellery's gaze remained fixed on Vickie's face. "I thought . . . well, your middle name and all, I just naturally assumed—" Ellery paused to draw a deep breath.
Vickie's cheeks flamed scarlet. "I know. Everybody did. We joined when she was three, Mother. Not on purpose, I assure you. That's when I learned our fourth generation females have an added talent. They don't hear the voices but they do see the images and are able to translate the emotions." She turned to her daughter. "Did you forget the first law of Chi, Danielle?"
"No, Mama. I must always honor and respect the privacy of what I see and feel." She twisted her fork in circles. "Does that mean I can't tell my Grandma who gave me the gift?"
Vickie sighed. "Eat your breakfast, Dear. Then we'll take a long day's sleep. Okay?" She smoothed her hand across Danielle's hair. "You may share with your Grandma if you wish."
Ellery rose from her chair and walked to the refrigerator. "But not this morning, Dani." With a small glass of juice in her hand, she returned to the table. "Is this enough or would you like a big glass?" She set the juice beside the child's plate.
"Enough." Dani nodded, reaching for the glass.
As they ate, Ellery overflowed with questions. Smiles flashed and frowns puckered as Vickie poured out five years of pent-up emotion. She ended with, "I don't know how, but they found us. We tried to warn as many of the Dakotans as we could before Verlin snuck me out, but by now, many of them have been arrested, I'm sure."
Ellery's head jerked up. "How do you know they found you?"
"It was strange. One night last week, the phone rang—very late. Verlin answered. He woke me, said an Aristocrat by the name of Vittorio was on the phone asking for me. Urgent. In all those years, the silence had never been broken, so we all thought you were either dead or dying. In our minds, that was the only thing that could be so pressing that my real name was used. When I answered, all the man said was ‘get out—they know where you are’, then the phone went dead. We didn't sleep the rest of the night, and not much since then."
Dani yawned—her head began to droop.
Glancing at the clock, Ellery shoved back her chair. "Good heavens, it's seven twenty-five. No wonder the child's nodding off. You must be tired too. I hate to keep you up any longer, but there's one more thing that must be done before you sleep."
"Can't it wait, Mama?" Vickie tugged at her daughter's arm.
"No it can't. Up to the lab with both of you," Ellery said firmly. "Bianca's developed a vaccine that disrupts the amino acid sequence for the protein encoded by the BH gene then slices it out of existence. In theory, I have an antidote. You see, the BH moves around. As such, you can't really be sure of its location. Even so, once activated it leaves behind a minute trace sequence—very difficult to find and even more difficult to track, requiring many corrections to
the probe. Bianca's vaccine is perfected, which can only mean that if there's a vestige anywhere in the active genome, her destroyer can track to the source without any further adjustments. Once located, it's simply a matter of adding enough weight to hold it firmly in place until slicing is done. Tincture of Gold will do that. High-tech sophistication." She paused a moment, then said, "She'll probably receive a Nobel for this one."
Herding them before her, she strode through the living room and started up the stairs. "High-tech or no, her probe will never find the BH of any I get to first. I know how—and where—to hide our gene. We've known for centuries that genes contain vast amounts of DNA that seem to play little or no functional role. It takes a considerable amount of energy to synthesize these sequences, but these introns, as they're called, are never translated. Yet they've been around for millennia, which suggested some kind of biological advantage—species evolution doesn't invest energy maintaining useless dross. I discovered that without the constraints imposed on sequences that code for specific proteins, new genes can be produced by mutation from this pool of DNA. Papa Victor created the BH by drawing from this pool. I'm sure of it. Tempting as it is, I don't intend to publish a paper on it! You see, the introns are true creatives, not dross—and not governors either, as Doctor Yang postulated. They absorb then translate—"
"Whoa—enough, enough," Vickie said over her shoulder. "My head is spinning. Creatives. Doctor Yang. Introns. Translation. You've lost me completely, Mama."
Ellery chuckled. "Simply put, Victoria, these useless chunks of DNA do have a biological advantage. In short, the complex mix required for evolutionary changes, Daughter. Backup to ensure survival of the species."
"I don't understand at all. Just tell me, will the antidote work?"
"Like I said—in theory. The BH is rich in proline codons. By forcing the gene to jump to an intron location that has an abundance of those same codons, its properties will admix without a trace. Still there, yet undetectable by any conventional means. Bianca's destroyer will never find it. Unless someone stumbles across the right combination, the secret hidden in one of those regions will never be found, at least not in this lifetime. Perhaps not in any lifetime. Of course, I've only had myself to test it on so I can't be absolutely certain, but no matter. It's too late to worry about that now, all I can do is insert the patch and pray." She pressed her palm to the light square beside her study door, shoved the door back, and stepped inside. "Not until that's done will I let you go to bed."
Vickie nodded.
Dani yawned.
Chapter 65
Bianca
Bianca banged through the conference doors and strode to the semicircular bulge at the end of the table. With both hands, she laid down a red damask folder embossed with the blue field and golden rings of the papal crest. Her gaze slid past Dane and Sefura, who sat side-by-side at the opposite end of the table, and paused briefly on each of the twenty-odd staff members retained at the island facility for the final shutdown and cleanup. With ceremonial slowness, she pulled the heavy leather chair back and lowered her body onto its seat.
"I know you didn't expect me back until next week. However, matters of utmost importance changed my plans. As I'm sure you've all heard by now, Pope Munoz is dead, the result of a tragic accident that occurred while we were inspecting the Saharan preservation center. The Vatican is preparing for his mass as we speak." Reaching for the damask folder, Bianca held it face outward for all to see. "In this folder is his plan to stop the bloodshed, a plan that will unify this world of ours into one cohesive global government. Reaching that goal is now my responsibility. With that in mind, I am stepping down as Director of this organization."
Shocked murmurs raced around the table. Her hand raised and the murmurs ceased. Rising from the chair, she leaned against the table edge and again her gaze circled round the group. "From the moment this meeting is adjourned, Mace Williams will be the new Tartarus Director. As you can see, Mister Williams has been temporarily detained, but his absence will be brief. That is all. This meeting is adjourned." She waved her hand at the conference door.
With shocked faces, the staff members rose and walked through the door. Dane and Sefura were last in the line. As they approached the door, Bianca called out. "I want both of you to remain a moment. I have something to tell you." As the last of the group exited, Bianca carefully shut the door and returned to her seat.
"I have been thinking about your request to marry my sister, Dane. You have been a member of the Tartarus family for several years now, and you were instrumental in designing and building the power grid as well as the Saharan project under the auspices of Pope Munoz before that. Am I correct?"
Dane nodded, his gaze never leaving her face.
"Those years of service would indicate a large measure of loyalty to His Holiness I would think. Would you agree?"
"A commitment, I would say, Bianca. Pope Munoz and I had a contract. His Holiness understood my loyalty to that agreement," Dane answered with level tone.
"Hmmm." Fingering the damask folder, caressing the golden rings, she smiled. "Did he understand your relationship with Victoria Jensen?"
Sefura yanked her hand from his. "Dane!" she gasped. "You never told me you knew Victoria Jensen." Her face registered bewilderment. "She's a Dakotan." Her glance flashed to her sister's hooded gaze. "Is she a carrier, Bianca? Has Dane been exposed?"
"Yes, she's a carrier," Bianca said smugly, continuing to watch Dane. "Have you been exposed, Dane?"
"The last time I saw the Jensen family was, let's see, probably nineteen, twenty years ago." He hesitated. "No, come to think of it, that's not correct. The last time I saw them was when Victoria was married. I gave her away." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "What's this all about, Bianca? I would think a disease the magnitude of what you've been discussing these past few years would have shown up if I'd been exposed." His hand found Sefura's. "Don't worry, Sef. I haven't been contaminated. I'm safe."
"Your friend, Joseph Galen, seems to think your contact has been much more recent," Bianca exulted. Why is he so calm? she thought. Is it possible that he's really had no contact with Ellery Jensen or her brat all these years? Her scrutiny intensified.
He frowned. "I can't imagine why Joseph would say anything like that." His eyes sparked with anger.
"You knew them and you didn't tell me?" Sefura's voice quivered with accusation. "Bianca had her hands full trying to develop a vaccine that would help them. You may have known something about them that would have shortened her search for a cure. How could you not tell me?"
"It never occurred to me, Sef. My God, that was years ago. Besides, I never connected Victoria Jensen with Dakotans." He looked back at the geneticist. "There will always be something to keep Sefura tied to you, won't there Bianca? First it was the Pope's assignment and then it was your assignment and now this. A trumped up accusation if I ever heard one."
Bianca could feel the blood rushing to her face at the verbal slap. This wasn't going as she'd planned. Her glance flicked to Sefura.
Indecision played across the girl's face as she looked first at Dane and then at Bianca.
The engineer leaped to his feet. "You can play your silly games with someone else. I'm taking your sister out of here. Sefura," he said, holding out his hand.
She hesitated, once more looking to the older woman. Slowly, she lifted her hand to his.
"Oh, sit down, Dane, and don't be so melodramatic," Bianca said.
"What?"
The tension in her shoulders dissipated as she watched confusion play across his face. She had regained control of a potentially disastrous situation. Not until Sefura was safely out of the room would she bring Dane Wyland to his knees.
"Sit down, sit down. Mr. Galen mentioned Victoria Jensen in passing and I assumed—" She spread her hands eloquently. "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I just don't want Sefura hurt. What I'm trying to say—and not doing a good job of it—is that I give my permission for
the marriage."
"Bianca!" Sefura jumped up and rushed to her sister's side. "I love you," she said, squishing Bianca's head with a bear hug grasp. Bianca grunted and the girl jumped back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hug so hard," she said. Her head turned to Dane, her eyes glowing with happiness.
"I love you too, Sef." Bianca looked square into Dane's bewildered eyes. "I would do anything to protect you." She chuckled softly. The expression on his face told her that he recognized the direct quote. She had boxed him, and little sister was the prize. "Listen, pet, I just noticed the time. Why don't you be a dear and go down to the lab. It's time to feed Sand—George. It's always so much easier when you're around. Besides, I'd like to have a private word with your intended. I have a new project in mind. Okay?"
"Okay, but don't keep him too long." Sefura blew a kiss to Dane, yanked open the door, and danced from the room. Bianca rose, sauntered to the open door, and shoved it closed.
"What do you want, Bianca?" he said.
"What do I want, Dane Wyland? I want Ellery Jensen and her daughter. You're going to help me get her, because if you don't, well, let me put it this way: Sandman's new caretaker knows what to do." She strolled back to the half circle. "Beneath this desk is a button. If you refuse, all I have to do is push it." The words rang with hate. "If I don't push it now, Sefura is to stay with him until I return. I have allowed four hours maximum. After that—" Her shoulders shrugged what she didn't say.
"You're making a mistake, Bianca. As I told you, I haven't seen the Jensens in years. Besides, don't you think Sefura will question why she's confined to that lab? She'll never trust you again."
"Not a problem." She reached for the desk phone and dialed. A moment later she said, "Will you tell my sister that Mr. Wyland and I are leaving the island for a couple of hours, Baker? I don't want her to worry. She can help you until our return." She replaced the phone. "You see—not a problem."
Reaching down, she picked up the damask folder and tucked it under her arm. A light knock vibrated against the closed door. Bianca grinned widely. "Our escort has arrived, Mr. Wyland. Are you ready?"
Shadows in the House With Twelve Rooms Page 43
