A Thin Smile
JOSH TAPPED THE GLASS AND SCOWLED at the unmoving mouse. “This thing’s really okay?”
“So far, all indications are that the treated mouse is fine,” replied Dr. Glenn. “It’s only fearless. That much was completely true.”
Josh worked to make sure his voice stayed level. Uninterested. “And it will be the same with the girl, right? She’ll be fearless but unharmed.”
“That’s what we’re hoping for. Why? Are you concerned for this Heather person?”
“I …” Josh shook his head. “Of course not. I’m just curious.” He tapped the glass again. “And bored. Does His Bossiness always have to be late?”
Dr. Glenn stood behind him with his hands shoved down into the pockets of his white lab coat and his glasses pushed back on his forehead. “I’m sure that he would tell you that he’s never late. Whenever he arrives is the correct time.”
Josh snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he would.” He gave the glass tank another loud flick with his finger. “That’s because he doesn’t have to wait around all damn night for someone to show up.”
“Feel free to complain when he gets here,” said Dr. Glenn. “You won’t mind if I stand over here and watch? It should be interesting.”
“No, thanks. I’m kind of fond of breathing.”
A door opened at the far end of the room. Josh straightened and turned to face the door as a tall man with short-cropped hair and broad shoulders under a khaki trench coat strolled into the room. “Good evening, sir.”
Loki advanced across the room in four long strides. “I understand that our new subject paid a visit tonight.” He shrugged out of his coat and let it fall. Dr. Glenn darted forward and grabbed the coat before it could touch the ground.
“She was here,” said Josh. “We’ve showed her the effects and given her the preliminary information. Just as you ordered, sir.”
“That’s good. Excellent. And did she immediately agree to participate?”
Josh hesitated. “Uh, no.”
Loki looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “No?”
“Heather … the subject … she wanted some time to think about it. You told me not to press her. To let her think it was her own decision.”
“I did. However, I’d hoped you would be a more effective salesman.” The big man strolled around the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “How would you read her mood? Do you think she’s in?”
Josh nodded quickly. “Yes. Absolutely. She’s so jealous of the first subject that she’ll never be able to resist our offer. By tomorrow she’ll be begging to participate.” He gave a nervous smile. “And she’s taken the two oral treatments. That’s making her a lot more open to suggestion as well as lowering her normal barriers.”
Loki looked at him for several seconds. Josh had a hard time standing still under the steady gaze of Loki’s pale blue eyes. “Then why didn’t she agree tonight?”
“Tomorrow,” said Josh. “I’m positive.”
“Good,” Loki said. “I like people who are positive.” He put a hand on Josh’s shoulder and applied a pressure that was just one stop away from painful. “Tomorrow will be fine. So long as we have the second subject in the program within forty-eight hours, everything will be fine.”
Dr. Glenn cleared his throat. “We can inject the girl at any time. The phobosan can be even delivered by dart if need be.”
“No,” Loki said sharply. “The subject has to think it’s her own idea. That’s critical.” Loki released his grip on Josh’s shoulder and returned to his restless pacing around the room. “She has to think that she already contained the seeds of fearlessness before she took the treatment.”
Josh shook his head. “I don’t understand why it’s so important what everybody thinks.”
“Hearts and minds,” said Loki. “Hearts and minds.” He tapped a finger against the side of his head. “If you really want to control people, you have to control how they think. We convince Heather that we can make her fearless through drugs. We plant information that convinces Gaia that she is fearless because of genetics. It doesn’t matter what they believe as long as they stay away from the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” asked Josh.
Loki stopped in front of the tank where the cat and the mouse still waited on opposite sides of the glass plane. “The truth isn’t important. What’s important is keeping Gaia and your little friend in doubt. Doubt is the enemy of power.”
Loki’s even white teeth showed through in a thin smile. “Trust me.” He pointed at the mouse and turned his head to look at Josh. “This is one of ours?”
Josh nodded. “Full treatment,” he said. “That’s the one we used in our demonstration to the new subject.”
“Oh, really?” Loki looked at the mouse for a moment longer, then he grabbed the top of the glass barrier and pulled it from the cage.
The mouse didn’t react. It stood where it had been all evening, its fine whiskers twitching in the air. Fearless. The cat stood for only a second, then it crouched down and leaped. There was a short squeal and a crunch as the mouse was caught in the cat’s sharp incisors.
Loki laughed. “Perfect,” he said. “Perfect.” He let the glass barrier clatter on the countertop and spun to face Josh once again. “Never forget: fear is and always has been a survival instinct.”
a loaded revolver
Everything had changed, only not really. The goals were still same: Stop Loki, get a life.
Kremlin Security
GAIA SLID HER KEY INTO THE LOCK as softly as possible, eased open the door, and slipped into the apartment. She’d already come to terms with the fact that her little escape fantasy would have to be postponed. In the meantime she had some information to gather.
The entranceway was dark and quiet. A soft gleam of light came from the kitchen, and a table lamp lent a pool of light to the top of the stairs. All the other rooms, including the bedrooms, were dark.
She did a quick, quiet circuit through the rooms on the first floor. No annoying Tatiana in the living room. No traitor Natasha in the kitchen. Only nice, empty, quiet rooms.
Upstairs was more of the same. Gaia poked her head into each bedroom and bathroom. No one. She leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs. If this place was like this all the time, I might actually like it here.
An overly ornate clock on the wall began a series of soft musical chimes. Eleven. How could it only be eleven? Considering everything that had happened, she thought eleven seemed awfully early. Still, what were Tatiana and Natasha doing out so late? Natasha was probably still working. Or if George was right, maybe she was out meeting with Loki. There was little doubt about what Tatiana was doing. Tatiana was out with Ed.
Most of the blame for the Ed and Tatiana connection was solidly in the bony lap of a little Russian girl. All those big-eyed looks and the bumbled English. Little touches on the arm. Laughing at jokes that were way short of funny. Gaia had never seen anyone deliver such a full-court flirt. But that didn’t mean Ed got off with zero blame. How could he mean the things he had said to Gaia, then turn around and spend his nights with Tatiana? True, Gaia had pushed him away, but that didn’t make it right. He should have waited.
Waited for hell to freeze over or Gaia Moore’s life to make sense, whichever came first.
Gaia pushed herself away from the wall. All right, the Russian royalty was out making time with the serfs. How best to take advantage of this breach in Kremlin security?
The first target was Natasha’s closet. She found a collection of business clothes, a couple of formal gowns, and a surprising number of shoes—weren’t they supposed to be short on stuff in Russia? But there was nothing that would tie Natasha to Loki.
Next Gaia went through the dresser. The first two drawers there held no surprises. The third held a gun.
Gaia lifted the weapon and studied it in the light. Revolver. Thirty-eight caliber. The pistol was small but heavier than she would have thought. Gaia’s father had taught her t
o handle weapons when she was eight. She wielded a gun capably. It had been a while, but Gaia was sure that she could still put five rounds in a three-inch pattern, or reload a spent shell, or fieldstrip an M-16 if the situation came up. That didn’t mean she liked guns.
Gaia fingered the release and flipped open the side of the revolver. It was loaded. Five shells and an empty chamber under the hammer. That was a sensible precaution to cut down on accidents. Not that keeping a loaded revolver in your dresser could be described as anything like sensible.
There were some additional bullets in a small cardboard box in the same drawer where Gaia had found the gun—another good sign that Natasha hadn’t been thinking of safety when she’d stashed the gun here. She’d wanted access to a weapon, and she’d wanted it quickly. Both the gun and the ammo were American made. Neither of them proved that Natasha was working with Loki. But they were definitely suspicious. As far as Gaia knew, a loaded revolver wasn’t exactly standard equipment for a UN translator.
She flipped the gun closed and put it carefully back into its nest of lace underwear and woolen socks. There was nothing so interesting in the next drawer or in the bottom drawer. Gaia went on to the table beside the bed. She found a couple of fat novels waiting there in the table drawer. One English. One Russian. You couldn’t fault Natasha for staying in practice.
Gaia put the novels back into the drawer and started to close it, but it was reluctant to shut. She pulled open the drawer, rearranged the books, and tried again. Still no luck. Something was blocking the drawer. Gaia flattened out her hand and stuck her fingers far back into the drawer, reaching around the edges. Something was back there, all right, but she could only brush it with her fingertips. She knelt down and looked inside. Metal. A metal box.
Another thirty seconds of fiddling with the drawer got Gaia no closer to reaching the box. So she changed her approach. One sharp pull popped the drawer from its mounting and left it dangling in Gaia’s hands. Novels, paper clips, and a worn nail file went thumping to the floor. Gaia tossed the drawer onto the bed and reached her hand into the opening. This time the metal box came out easily. It was small, no more than an inch thick and maybe eight inches long. Gaia opened the hinged lid and looked inside.
Bingo.
Envelopes. The box was full of envelopes. Gaia gave them a quick flip through with her thumb. There had to be a dozen of them here, and something was inside each of them. From the way they were hidden, Gaia could guess that she had found Natasha’s secret orders.
Gaia opened the first envelope and pulled out the page inside.
Natasha,
I want to thank you again for the time you spent showing me around your city. Though I had visited Moscow many times in the past, I cannot remember any visit nearly so pleasant.
I’d also like to thank you for sharing your memories of Katia. I never knew her as a child, and even as adults our time together seemed far too short. Listening to your stories opened up decades that I knew very little about.
I hope that in time we’ll be able to meet again and I’ll learn more about Katia’s family. These will be wonderful stories to pass on to my daughter.
Sincerely,
Tom Moore
Gaia read through the note again. Not from Loki at all, but from her father. She wondered what kind of stories Natasha had told about her mother. Natasha had never told any of these stories to Gaia. Neither had her father.
There was no date on the note, but it had obviously been written several months ago. Maybe even years. At the time, Natasha had still been living in Russia, and there was no mention of meeting her in New York. It irritated Gaia to see her father being so friendly with Natasha, but it seemed like a pretty ordinary letter.
So why did Natasha save it, and why did she hide it in her little stash?
Maybe she had saved it because she was spying for Loki, but even if that were true, there didn’t seem to be much in the letter worth saving. No secret information there.
The next letter in the stack had a smudged postmark from Istanbul and was written on stationery from the Grand Atatürk Hotel. Gaia unfolded the single sheet and put it down on top of the first letter.
Dear Natasha,
Your letter eventually reached me, though not as quickly as I would have liked.
It’s been a long time since we were together. Too long. Hopefully, if everything works out, that will soon change.
I think your suggestion on how to handle the situation with Gaia is a good one. In fact, I’m thrilled at the idea. You have no idea how much time I have spent worrying about this situation. Or perhaps you do, since you have a daughter of your own.
In any case, having Gaia close to someone I trust will be a great comfort. As soon as I return from this engagement, we’ll get together and work out the details.
Looking forward to seeing you again,
Tom
This second letter was a bit more disturbing to Gaia. In the first place it seemed a lot more, well, friendly.
It had clearly been written after the first. How long after, Gaia couldn’t tell. Natasha might have still been in Moscow when the letter was written, but it was clear she was already in a New York state of mind. Of course, no one had ever consulted Gaia on where she wanted to live and whom she wanted to live with. Why should they bother with that? And she was sure that her father never thought for a second about Gaia moving in with him. No way. Completely inconvenient. That was out of the question.
She grabbed the next letter out of the stack. Plain old business envelope this time, with no return address. Inside was another single-sheet letter. Tom was nothing if not brief.
Dear Natasha,
This is a very difficult letter for me to write. Not because I have bad news, but because I’ve become so unfamiliar with good news, I don’t know how to react to it. The time we spent in New York was wonderful. And I think the only possible reason for this is that you are wonderful. When I’m with you, all the things that have so weighed down the last few years seem to float away.
Gaia stopped reading at that point and closed her eyes. There was a tightness in her throat and a bitter, sour taste at the back of her mouth. When had this letter been written? Had Gaia still been at George and Ella’s? Maybe even when she’d been laid up in the hospital. Whenever it had been written, it was clear that her father—her father who never had time to talk to her—had plenty of time to talk to Natasha. While Gaia was going through one horror after another, her father had time to run around New York with his gun-toting girlfriend. Had they gone shopping together? They’d probably taken in a Broadway show and had a nice dinner at some place where the waiter handed over the wine cork.
Not only had her father ignored Gaia, it seemed like he had completely forgotten about her mother.
In my dreams, we are never separated. We can live together somewhere where it’s peaceful, where it’s safe, where neither of us has to face the difficulties we now live with every day.
The paper started to crunch in Gaia’s hand. Difficulties that they faced every day. Yeah, her father went traipsing around the world with his girlfriend and then whined because they couldn’t shack up together. Natasha had this great place in New York and probably a palace back in Russia. In the meantime Gaia had nothing. Oh, yeah, I feel so sorry for you two.
Most of all, I dream of a place where Gaia and Tatiana can worry about their grades and their boyfriends and what they’re going to wear to the prom. I want to deal with helping them through tough calculus exams and picking out universities and teach the girls to drive. I want to throw a party for my daughter’s eighteenth birthday, not worry about whether she’ll live to see nineteen. I want to see her walk down the aisle at her high school graduation, at her college graduation, at her wedding.
More than anything, I want to tell her about her mother, about me, and about why we made the choices we did. I want to tell her just how proud she has made me every day.
And because I want these things, I know that
I can’t be close to her. Or to you. Every time I talk to Gaia, every time I’m close to her, only increases the risk. Until this situation is finally and completely resolved, all the things I want—we want—will remain no more than dreams.
A drop of water hit the letter. Gaia wiped it away with her thumb and tried to read the next sentence, but another drop followed the first. It wasn’t until the ink was blurred by a third drop that Gaia realized the water was coming from her eyes. She put the letter down and rubbed at her face.
He cares. He remembers me.
Gaia’s throat went tight, and she squeezed her eyes shut. How long had it been since she’d dared to think that her father cared about her? How long had it been since she’d thought he might actually love her?
She opened her eyes, rubbed away the latest tears, and started to read the next part of the letter. Suddenly that didn’t seem like such a good idea. Reading letters that were about spying was one thing. Reading her father’s love letters to Natasha … That was just wrong in so many ways.
Working as quickly as she could, Gaia shoved the letters back in their envelopes and put them all back in the box. Then the box went back into the table, the crap from the floor went back in the drawer, and the drawer slid in over the box. With careful placement Gaia even managed to put the two novels back inside the drawer before she closed it. Finally she turned off the lights and stepped out of Natasha’s bedroom.
Gaia stood at the top of the hallway and tried to think of her next step. Her head was swimming. She felt a faint shadow of that weird feeling from the fear serum tingling down in her guts. Everything had changed, only not really. The goals were still the same: Stop Loki, get a life. Except now, more than any time since her mother’s death, the idea of a life that was, okay, maybe not normal, but close, seemed just out of reach.
Her planning was interrupted when the door opened and Tatiana came in, grinning from ear to ear. A grin that was no doubt Ed induced.
Tatiana started to take off her coat. When Gaia entered her field of vision, that smile turned instantly into a frown. “What are you doing?”
Blind Page 11
