The Light From Other Suns (The Others Book 1)

by V. E. Lemp

  “Did it?” Mark asked. “I thought Vance simply moved it to Exocorp.”

  Cole stared at him for a moment. “Officially, it was shut down.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “The project lives on at Exocorp, as you’ve guessed. It isn’t necessarily the company’s most important project, but it does exist.”

  “Do you know its real purpose?” Karen asked. “I worked for the Morpheus Project many years ago. It seemed relatively harmless at the time but appears to have left scars on most of those involved.”

  “How unfortunate. But no, I don’t know its full import. As I said, I’m simply a contract employee.”

  Mark was intently studying Cole’s face. “I think it’s strange Ian Vance is working at Exocorp. What does a dream researcher have to do with the development of next-generation technology?”

  “Apparently he branched out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to get back to work. I hope you won’t think me rude if I ask you to go. That is”—Cole glanced at Karen—“if Ms. Foster feels well enough to leave.”

  “I’m fine.” Karen stood. She wasn’t entirely sure she could trust this man, but she wanted to stay in his good graces. It was possible he held the key to information she now desired more than air. “I want to thank you again, Mr. Cole, for saving us. You’ve been our guardian angel today.”

  “What a curious thought. I’d never have imagined myself anyone’s angel.” David Cole smiled. “Although I’m glad to be yours, Karen.”

  “We’ll leave you to your work, Mr. Cole.” Mark motioned for Karen to walk in front of him as they headed for the door. “But in case you have more information you’d like to share, I can give you my number.”

  “Oh, I think I can find you if I need you, Mr. Hallam,” Cole said. “I do know how to find people. Rather my specialty.”

  Mark pushed Karen out the door. She was just able to cast a brief smile in David Cole’s direction before they left the room.

  “You were rude,” Karen said, once she and Mark were in the car.

  “Rude? Hardly. He was lying, you know.” Mark expertly pulled into the stream of traffic on the road outside the Indigo Building.

  “Lying? About what?”

  “Almost everything, I think. His connection to Vance, at any rate. I suspect David Cole knows quite a bit more than he’s letting on.”

  “And you know this how?” Karen cast him an irritated glance. Despite her own uneasiness over David Cole’s knowledge of personal information related to her past, she refused to allow Mark to dismiss this valuable lead. “He seemed quite pleasant to me. Very helpful.”

  Mark looked at her, his face a study in disbelief. “Really, Karen? You couldn’t sense the undercurrent in that room? I told you,” he said, fixing his eyes on the road, “I can usually detect lies. And Cole was lying. Maybe not about everything, but there was something he was covering up. Quite expertly, I admit, but I don’t think we should trust anything he says.”

  “I do understand what you’re saying, and I admit I am a bit suspicious of David Cole, but how are we to find out information if we can’t ask any questions or trust anyone?”

  “How indeed?” Mark’s tone softened. “I hope you’re feeling better. You need to take care of yourself tonight. Relax, have a glass of wine, and get some sleep. You had a bad shock. That isn’t something to take lightly.”

  “Anyway, despite his rather cryptic words, I thought he was very nice.” Karen rubbed her shoulder, certain Mark’s fingers had left a bruise.

  Mark sighed. “I noticed you were rather taken with the man.”

  “Taken with? What do you mean by that? I’m not taken with anyone. I do, however, appreciate that he may have saved my life today.”

  “Perhaps, but I still don’t trust him. He could’ve been planted by Vance for all we know. You can’t take these people at face value.”

  Karen frowned darkly, disturbed that Mark was echoing questions she was trying to ignore. “You really do have the most suspicious mind.”

  “It’s stood me in good stead over the years. Now, as for you—you are far too naïve. Yes, you are, so don’t give me that look. We can safely assume everyone we meet is an enemy, yet you think it’s fine to accept Cole at his word? Come off it, Karen. That’s the way to get hurt, or killed.”

  “Who says I care?”

  “No need to be petulant.”

  “Petulant?” Karen’s voice rose a full octave on the end of the word. “Now listen, Mr. Special Agent or whatever the hell you are, I’m not going to be talked to like that by you or anyone else.” She clenched her hands in her lap to still their shaking.

  “Oh, you’ll stand up to me but let someone you don’t know, a total stranger like Cole, feed you a line of garbage and lead you down the garden path? How very childish.”

  “That’s it. Pull the car over.”

  “No need for that,” Mark said sharply. “I promised to drive you home.”

  “We’re a block from my condo, and I’d rather walk ten blocks than spend another minute with you. Pull the damn car over.”

  “Very well.” Mark swiftly maneuvered the car to the curb. Karen jumped out as soon as the car came to a stop, slamming the door behind her.

  The passenger-side window slid down. Mark leaned toward her. “I’ll call you later. After you’ve had some time to calm down.” The window slid up.

  “I’m perfectly calm!” Karen shouted as he drove away. One of her neighbors, out walking his dog, eyed her in dismay.

  “Everything’s fine,” Karen snapped before charging up the stairs to her apartment.

  She flopped on the sofa and reached for her cell to call Thea but decided to check messages from work instead. She had several voice mails from prospective students and one other, more intriguing call.

  “Hello, Karen,” said the recording. “It’s David Cole. I hope you don’t mind I tracked down your office number. Please don’t think I’m stalking you. It was listed on the college website, so it didn’t require any special skills. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were actually okay after that incident today. I know it was a shock. If you get this message, please give me a call in the next day or two. I’d love to talk to you again. I can’t remember if I gave you my card, but if not, you can reach me at this number.”

  Karen stared at the phone for a moment, then played the message again and wrote down the number.

  When Mark phoned later that evening she let the call go to voice mail.

  The next day, Karen thought better of losing a valuable ally and called Mark.

  “I suppose I overreacted,” she said without any preamble, “but you did royally piss me off.”

  “I could tell.”

  “Now don’t start. By the way, did you ever get in touch with Tarrow?”

  “Yes, and he was quite shocked. He obviously had nothing to do with the planned accident. I believe he was as deceived as we were.”

  “I don’t suppose he’ll use that source again.”

  “No, I don’t imagine he will. So, what are you up to today?”

  “I need to go to the jeweler’s and get my necklace fixed, for starters. What’s on your agenda?”

  “I think I’ll do a little more digging. Exocorp’s research and development activities require further investigation. Especially in light of your sketches.” There was a moment of silence before Mark continued. “And Karen?”

  “Yes?” Karen stared at the piece of paper where she’d scribbled David Cole’s number. She should tell Mark about the message.

  “Be careful, would you? After what happened yesterday ...”

  “Well, if I can’t run errands in my own town I might as well crawl into a corner and never come out.” Karen laid down the paper. Tomorrow would be soon enough. After she talked to Cole.

  “Just keep your eyes open. And call me if you encounter anything that makes you nervous. I’m serious about this.”

  “I know. And I promise,” she said lightly, “to c
all you if I have any close encounters, of any kind.”

  “It’s not a joke, Karen.” There was a razor edge to his tone.

  “I’m aware of that. I’ll be careful, Mark. You don’t need to worry.”

  “But I will,” he said, before hanging up.

  Dream Journal, July 2nd:

  I walked alone on a beach, stepping in and out of the lace edge of foam that remained after the waves crashed to shore. With the cries of gulls stilled by the night, the steady rhythm of the waves was heightened, filling my ears like the breathing of a great animal. Heavy clouds sailed across the sky, making the full moon vanish and reappear like a coin in a magician’s trick.

  I was barefoot in the cool sand. Turning my head, I spied the soft rise of dunes and waving fronds of grasses, their green blades bleached silver by the night. In the heavens the shifting clouds revealed and obliterated the stars.

  Off to my right, a figure moved across the dunes. The grasses bent and sprang back as they walked a little ahead of me. The figure was tall and slender, and when the clouds parted for a moment the moonlight backlit its short, fair hair, turning it silver.

  I ran along the edge of the water, trying to reach a point where I’d be moving directly parallel to that other figure. It was difficult to keep the stranger in my sightline as he was sporadically hidden by the dunes, only to reappear farther ahead. Finally, breathless, I stood still, my back to the waves.

  The figure stopped and turned to look down at me from the dunes. I heard my name—carried on the wind so it resonated around me.

  “Yes,” I answered, “I’m here. Where are you?”

  “Close,” the stranger said. When I looked up into his face, I confirmed, at last, who it was.

  “Alex,” I said, or thought—I’m not sure which. But he heard me. A smile lit up that well-remembered face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Practicing walking on the earth again. At least in my dreams.”

  “But this is my dream.” I moved forward, stopping short at the edge of the dunes. Although I desperately wanted to reach him, my feet would carry me no closer.

  “Is it?” He raised his eyebrows in a familiar way that twisted something around my heart.

  “You can’t be here,” I said slowly. “You can’t come back.”

  “Not even in your dreams, Karen?”

  “I’ve wanted this for so long. But you wouldn’t come to me. Why have you returned now?”

  “You finally opened the door.”

  I clasped my hands before me. They were sticky with salt spray. “What door?”

  “You broke the barrier. You found the way out. You opened your mind.” Alex stepped back into the shadows. “Do you still think this is your dream, Karen?”

  “I believe it is,” I said with great deliberation. “And if I turn and throw myself into the ocean I’ll wake up.”

  “You may, but will I?” The laughter in his words rang through my head.

  “If this is your dream,” I called, without speaking, “come closer. Come down to me.”

  “Oh, Karen, you know that’s impossible.” He melted into the darkness.

  I stood for some time while waves rolled and crashed and rolled out again. At last I turned and walked into the ocean. I kept walking until I was totally submerged. When I woke in my bed, my face was still damp with saltwater.

  EIGHT

  Karen waited a few days before calling David Cole. Despite her desire to gather more information, Thea’s voice haunted her thoughts. “Never return a call the very same day. Shows too much interest too soon.” Not that Karen was considering Cole as a possible romantic interest. No, of course not. But she thought it best to err on the side of caution.

  When she finally reached Cole, he was gracious, accepting her repeated thanks for his actions with an offhand comment that anyone would have done the same.

  “I don’t know,” Karen said. “A lot of people freeze in a crisis. You were very decisive.”

  “Suppose I’ve been in enough tough spots to be accustomed to taking action. At any rate, I’m glad to have been able to help you.”

  “I did wonder if you could offer me a little more information on Ian Vance and the Morpheus Project. I know you told us your contract doesn’t allow you to say much, but if there’s anything else you feel you can share, I’d be grateful.”

  “Was Alex Wythe so important to you, Karen? You seem determined to follow any lead, no matter how tenuous. I worry this is not the safest path.”

  “Yes, he was, and why would you worry? Unless you do have more information, that is. Some suspicion about his death?”

  “Many of Exocorp’s projects have a high security clearance. Some people might be upset if you stumbled upon privileged information while pursuing your investigation into Wythe’s death. And about that—it was officially declared an accident, I think.”

  “Yes, but …” Karen hesitated, remembering Mark’s warning. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “Don’t you?” There was an edge to Cole’s voice. “Why not?”

  “Something I saw when I was there, before the explosion. And some things I’ve learned since. Listen, Mr. Cole—”

  “David.”

  “Very well, David. I want to put the pieces together about something that’s haunted me for years. Please understand how important this is to me. I feel I’ve lived my whole life under some dark cloud. I’ve been walking a tightrope, living on a knife’s edge between sanity and madness, and I want ... I want to be free.” Yes, it was true. She did. Finally, she did.

  There was a brief moment of silence before David Cole replied. “I’m sorry to hear about the difficulties you’ve faced all these years. No one should have to live like that. I don’t know what I can tell you, but I’d like to help if I can. Why don’t you stop by my office, and we’ll talk some more? Give me a call anytime.”

  “I’ll do that. Perhaps even tomorrow?”

  “I look forward to seeing you again, Karen.”

  The next day, as Karen prepared to call Cole to set up their meeting, she received a voice mail that changed her plans. It was Drew Bronski, begging her to visit him. He kept repeating something about having a file to prove Vance’s guilt. Karen immediately called Mark.

  “I think we need to go. He wants us to come to his house. Apparently his wife and kids are off visiting her parents. He said he’d email me directions.”

  “Of course,” Mark said. “I can take off tomorrow after lunch. I’ve got comp time I need to use by the end of the month anyway. I’ll come by around one o’clock, and we can drive down for the afternoon.”

  “I thought I might drive this time.”

  “In your car?” A lilt of humor laced Mark’s voice. “No. I’ll pick you up at one.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my car.”

  “See you at one,” Mark replied, and hung up.

  Mark was already waiting when Karen walked out of her building at exactly one o’clock. As she climbed into his car he gave a quick hello without looking her way.

  “Need to check something before we leave,” he said, scanning texts on his phone. At one point he chuckled.

  “Something funny?” Karen searched her purse for the print out of the directions Drew sent the night before.

  “My sister Claire. She’s wondering where the hell I’ve been. She used slightly more colorful language, though.” He put the phone down and quickly swung the car away from the curb.

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yes, and a mother and a niece. I didn’t spring fully formed from the earth, you know.”

  Karen shot him a sharp look. He was smiling, and she sat back in her seat, slightly mollified. “Do you see them often?”

  “I did. But lately I’ve been concerned about drawing too much attention to them. I used to visit them at least every other week. They live outside Baltimore, so it’s an easy drive.”

  “Is that where you grew up?”

  “Baltimore,
yes. But not the same neighborhood. They live together, as my mother has arthritis and needs help getting around. But their current home isn’t in the area where we grew up. That was a more … challenged neighborhood. One day when I was eight and Claire was four, my father decided to take a smoke break. That is …” Mark glanced at her. He was no longer smiling. “One day my dad dashed out to buy cigarettes and never came back.”

  “Oh.” Karen met his gaze with what she hoped was a compassionate smile.

  “So my mother had the dubious pleasure of raising the two of us on her own. A tough situation, but she’s a determined woman, and she kept us well-fed and clothed. With no help from anyone else, I might add, although Claire and I both got after-school jobs as soon as we were old enough. We managed.”

  “And your niece, how old is she?”

  “Amy? Fourteen. She’s quite a character.” Mark’s smile betrayed his feelings for his niece, but his expression quickly sobered with his next words. “Claire hasn’t had the easiest time of it either. In keeping with our unfortunate family tradition, her husband decided to disappear when Amy was only three. Though, unlike my dad, we do know where he is—in Denver, raising a second family. A family that strangely seems to have erased all memory of Amy from his mind.”

  “So, a thoroughgoing bastard then,” Karen said.

  “Exactly.”

  “My sympathies. That must be difficult for your sister.”

  Mark shrugged. “Claire’s tough. She has to be, in her job. I often think she deserves combat pay.”

  “What’s she do? Something with the police or military?”

  “No.” Mark grinned broadly. “Middle school teacher.”

  Karen stared at him for a second before bursting into peals of laughter.

  “You know, Karen,” Mark said, as he pulled the car onto the highway, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”