While Justice Sleeps

by Stacey Abrams

  The scientists at Hygeia had used American dollars to engage in research that violated every national or international treaty she could imagine, let alone the basic tenets of morality.

  The glaring question was simple. Did the president of the United States know what had been done under his watch?

  Avery cleared the web browser cache and powered off the computer. She returned to the conference room and summoned Noah to join them. “I got the download from Mr. Money. This is what he sent me.”

  She dropped the papers on the conference table. Jared read first, then passed pages to Ling as he finished, and she passed them over to Noah. Unable to sit, Avery prowled the room, the quiet punctuated by the inevitable gasps and sharp inhalations that traditionally marked discoveries.

  “I know what we imagined, but this is proof,” Ling exclaimed. “This is Josef Mengele territory.”

  “The funding ended before the merger,” Jared pointed out, looking up from a balance sheet. “When Ani Ramji started leaking information about the program.”

  Avery had already come to the same conclusion. “According to the timeline I’ve charted,” she said as she opened a notebook onto the table, “Hygeia started to draw attention from the Indian government. When the CEO of Hygeia realized they were on his trail, he turned to Advar for rescue. Moved the research under their umbrella. Homeland Security had to abort the project and cut off funds.”

  “Then Advar attempts to merge with GenWorks. If the merger succeeds, the president’s archenemy, Nigel Cooper, will have access to data proving his administration sanctioned research into biogenetic genocide.”

  “More than research,” Ling corrected with alarm in her voice. “According to Papaleo’s memo, Hygeia did more than theorize. They perfected the technology—a biogenetic virus that can kill anyone with the wrong chromosomal mutation.”

  Noah asked the question first: “Do we think President Stokes was complicit, or did Major Vance act alone?”

  “The person who can tell us is Ani. He’s the one who blew the whistle and tipped off Justice Wynn,” Avery said. She thought of the video of Wynn’s commencement speech, which she had rewatched the night before in her apartment. “If the justice’s speech at the commencement is to be believed, he clearly thought President Stokes was a part of the conspiracy.”

  “Which Ani can confirm, if you can figure out where he is.”

  Avery had been replaying Ani’s riddle in her mind, but to no avail. Where the other scion of justice is known but not seen. Where the world meets. Over and over, Justice Wynn and Ani had met online in a virtual world of battle, signaling to each other using the phrase “in the square.” Like the constellations in Jared’s room at the cabin, the clue had to be more obvious than she realized. Justice Wynn believed she would figure it out.

  Ling asked, “Is there any place that is like a chess game? An amusement park or something.”

  Jared shook his head. “I thought about Bangkok, where they set that musical. We could try it, but I don’t know where we’d start. Besides, I can’t imagine the judge being a fan of theater.”

  “No, he would make sure I could connect the dots. A place where we could meet with Ani, and one that we could get to quickly. I doubt he’d send us to Thailand, or India, for that matter. It has to be more domestic. A square that we’d be able to find.” Then, like a final move, she understood. “A nation of favor and folly. Where justice is known but rarely seen,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “Something he said to me the day he had me sign something in his office.” Another mystery she hadn’t solved yet. Turning her thoughts back, she explained, “He said that America was a nation of favor and folly. Where justice is known but rarely seen. What if he was being literal?”

  Looking around for confirmation of their mutual confusion, Ling asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Folly. A nation of folly. Seward Square,” Avery explained, growing more excited. “Let me borrow your laptop, Jared.” Bemused, he slid the computer to her, and all three watched as she typed. Pages sprang up, and she quickly scanned the contents. She exhaled and leaned back in her chair. “I knew it.”

  Jared asked, “Care to let us in on the revelation?”

  Avery turned to him with a satisfied grin. “Your father loves history and his own name. As you pointed out with the game handle, he compares himself to William Howard Taft. And he sees himself as a child of justice—a scion of justice. Put that together with his comment about folly, and there’s only one place he could mean. The only square in Washington, DC, that is also named for a man named William. William Seward.” She swiveled the screen to show an online article. “Farragut, McPherson, Mount Vernon, Lafayette, and Seward. That’s where Ani is.”

  “That’s a stretch, Avery,” Noah said doubtfully. “You got all that from his cryptic clue?”

  “In the square. Known but not seen. Seward’s statue is not in Seward Square. They’ve never put one up. He’s also a ‘scion of justice’ because Seward and his wife were abolitionists who hid escaped slaves in their home. And he was an excellent lawyer who might have been president, but he lost to Abraham Lincoln.” Growing more certain, she added, “Ani Ramji is in hiding, but he had to get out of India. All his colleagues were being murdered. He and Justice Wynn found a way to bring him here and hide him. If he’s waiting for me to find him, he’s here in DC.”

  Jared glanced at the others before he gently asked, “Are you sure?”

  Avery gave a soft laugh, aware of the incredulity of her friends. “I have to be. We’re almost out of time.”

  * * *

  —

  Vance replayed the surveillance of Avery’s apartment. The ringing of a telephone shrilled through at 10:43 p.m., but no sound other than the shower running and muffled conversation.

  He stabbed the intercom. “Camille, where are the phone records I ordered?”

  His assistant walked into the office at her usually efficient clip. “Took a minute to pull from the cell phone provider.” She laid the report on the desk and indicated a section she’d highlighted. “I’ve been trying to narrow down the callers who had masked numbers.”

  “How many?”

  “Two calls came in from untraceable cells. I have them working on it.”

  “I want an answer in an hour,” he said without looking up. Camille took her cue and left him alone. Vance gritted his teeth and continued to study the logs.

  Whoever was trying to reach Avery, he had to find them.

  Now.

  FORTY-TWO

  In a coffee shop in Southeast DC, Dr. Ani Ramji sat in an Internet café off the main thoroughfare; college students and vagrants hunched over terminals, oblivious to those around them. He glanced over his shoulder as he typed, not sure of the face he sought. One last fail-safe. A file to be transmitted to his remaining ally, should any harm befall him.

  Ani’s eyes fluttered in exhaustion, and he drifted into waking sleep, knowing what was to come. The dreams came every time he let his mind wander from a task, the images a nightmare of his own making.

  Screams of piercing agony. Bodies writhing on a cold slate floor. Pale walls to reflect the light, to illuminate and sterilize. Weeping and bleeding and prayers for death, the embodiment of a modern Hieronymus Bosch painting. Destruction perfected.

  He snapped alert, and a couple of deep breaths brought him back. The Internet café was number seven on his rotation. He never returned to the same café in a fourteen-day span, the average time the various owners took to erase their surveillance. But as a faithful man, he believed in the permanence of knowledge, though he might have to help it along. In America, he’d found a friend and ally and a safe haven, one whose devotion to revealing the truth rivaled his own. It was for him that he dared this last meeting.

  At the appointed hour, he stood and headed across the roa
d to the park. The layout of the park had been etched into his memory. For weeks, he’d hidden in the forgotten areas of Southeast DC, unseen by those who pursued him. The place known as Seward Square sat at the intersection of Pennsylvania Avenue and North Carolina Avenue in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Justice Wynn had recommended the location, with its four miniature parks carved out by the intersecting streets.

  Taking a seat on the bench nearest the center fountain, he set his satchel on the ground beside him. Grass would stain the leather, but it was of no matter. Although he had not dared to contact Avery again, he was certain she would figure out the location. He had come here each day, and he would for one more, but he had decided he would have to abandon Howard Wynn after that. The fear that rode him daily had come close to overtaking his guilt. If she did not arrive by tomorrow, he would vanish.

  He’d found it impossible to relax in the city, even thousands of miles from his home. After they met, he would travel to Canada and then to Turkey and the Tigris region. Perhaps the land of his victims would offer no more protection from the men who hunted him, but he could imagine no true haven from his demons.

  Staring up at the cloudless sky, he thought of his role in the master plan. So convoluted, but what choice did either of them have? His partner now lay dying and unaware of whether his sacrifice would mete out justice or leave them all victims of hubris and greed.

  “Dr. Ramji?”

  Slowly, Ani turned his head to face their anointed champion. Recognizing the voice and the photos from the papers, he said, “Ms. Keene. Were you followed?”

  “No, sir.” Avery lowered herself to the bench beside him. “This is Jared Wynn. He specialized in reconnaissance and stealth maneuvers in another life. We were able to evade our shadows, but we do not have long.”

  “Ah, the Navy analyst.” Ani nodded to himself. “You lost your dream because of Boursin’s. And now you risk much for your father. He was not certain you would.”

  “Neither was I.”

  “Why do you?”

  “Now is not the time for our confessions, Dr. Ramji.” Jared spoke quickly, his voice low. “We’ve come to hear your story.”

  “My confession, yes.” Ani hunched his shoulders. “I have much to atone for.”

  Avery watched him as his eyes darted toward the park entrance, then toward her. “What do you want, Dr. Ramji?”

  “To give you the keys to Jared’s survival.” He reached into his pocket and removed a USB drive. “What we did—what I did at Hygeia—was monstrous. Ungodly. But with this, perhaps some good will come.”

  “Then it’s true?” Avery asked. “You conceptualized a genetic weapon to kill Muslims?”

  “Religion is an imprecise scientific tool, but yes. Those who shared the genetic markers of the targeted haplogroup would die from the virus we developed. India has made great strides, but our leaders continue to fear that a partition between Hindu and Muslim is insufficient. They wanted a—a fail-safe, I think you’d call it. A way to act should conflict arise and threaten our existence.”

  “How far did the research go?”

  “How far?” Ani repeated, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

  Ling had told her what to ask for. “Is this information on the genetic structure of the weapon? A genomic map of the proposed virus? Theoretical models?” Avery pushed: “What did you give us?”

  “I thought you knew.” Ani’s forehead cleared, and his eyes darkened. “We perfected the weapon. Tested it.”

  “Tested?”

  “What I have given you is a video of the experiments, as well as other information. The virus works almost perfectly. Three hundred subjects tested. A twenty-four percent survival rate.”

  Avery and Jared were silent as the shock set in.

  “You infected people…and a majority died?” Avery whispered.

  “Yes. That is why I am here,” Ani replied.

  “There are people you infected who are still alive?” Jared demanded.

  “No, there are not. Eventually, all test subjects were terminated for the sake of secrecy.” Ani lifted his chin. “The evidence you will need to prove what happened is here. We recorded our findings, for later review and examination. And for protection. We had a liaison in America, and he was kept apprised of our work. When we ran our tests, he was present.”

  “Who?”

  “I do not know his name. But my colleagues and I thought it best to have proof that we were operating under governmental direction, hired by the Americans to work in partnership.” Ani knew their actions were indefensible, but penance required confession. “If it means anything, we used prisoners. Offered them extraordinary sums for their families if they agreed to participate.”

  “Did they know what was going to happen?”

  “No. No one knew except us.”

  Jared shifted and scanned the perimeter. “Who else has this information?”

  “No one. After we were told to terminate the survivors, I could not continue. I joined the project out of patriotism and scientific curiosity. To understand the power of the genome. To play God. But we were not gods, and patriotism cannot justify our sins. When our team tried to tell the Indian government that we would not continue, they shut down the lab, and my colleagues began to die. I have managed to hide, but they will find me soon if I remain here much longer. I offered the recording to Howard, but he refused to take it. He said it would not be safe with him. Only with you two.”

  Looking at the drive in his hand, Jared asked, “What is Avery supposed to do with this?”

  “Show it to the world. Save your life and others. Do not let those men and women die in vain.” Abruptly, he turned to Avery and grabbed her hands. “I believed initially this research would have a patriotic purpose. Even ethical, if the jihadists are to be believed. I was wrong. And my weakness pulled me too deeply into the horrors. Justice Wynn was a good man who faced a terrible choice. He knew you would figure out how to stop them from winning. But if you reveal what has been done, they will try to kill you and everyone you love.”

  “What about your family?”

  His face turned ashen. “Slaughtered for my sins.”

  In the silence that followed, Ani clenched his fingers tighter around hers. “Good can come of this, Avery, but it cannot be either buried or revealed. Do you understand?”

  “No,” Avery admitted, turning her hands beneath his. “Come with us. You can tell the FBI what’s happened. You can help me finish this.”

  “I cannot go with you.”

  Refusing to accept his rejection, Avery argued, “I have a friend who will help you. He’ll put you in protective custody. I need your help.”

  “They will kill me.”

  “Like you killed Justice Wynn?”

  “What?” he sputtered.

  “I know you gave him the compound. You put him in the coma.”

  Ani squinted, then his face cleared. “Ah, the Sleeping Beauty drug. In the proper dosage, they could keep him alive for years. I developed the formulary for Hygeia in another line of genetic experiments, before Tigris. Advar took over the company before I discovered a way to reverse the coma, but I believe it is possible.”

  “Is that why he took it?” she asked. “To put himself in a coma indefinitely?”

  “If the research is reinitialized, his coma may be ended, and he could wake up. But he does not expect to survive. He simply wanted to determine when he would lose control of his body. This was a compromise between us.”

  Jared asked, “But it is possible to wake him up?”

  “I cannot, but my earlier experimental results are also on the drive.”

  Ani stood, and Avery also rose. He stared at her in silence, then added, “Howard was willing to die to stop them. I am not as brave. Once I leave, I will not return.” He bent down to pick up his bag. With
jerky motions, he tossed the leather strap over his shoulder.

  At the mention of Justice Wynn, Avery said, “One more question. Do you know what this means? If I had accepted absurdity and given smallpox to my child, I would not be mourning him today and the atrocities would not have been.”

  “I am sorry, no. We did not discuss smallpox.”

  “You can’t just walk away,” Jared ordered. “You deserve to be in prison for what you’ve done.”

  Ani took a step back. “I long ago abandoned my Hindu faith, but if our gods exist, Yama will mete out his own punishment. My actions have killed my family, my friends, and possibly your father. There is no prison greater than the hell I live in every day, but your nation will not be my judge. Not when they have been complicit in my crimes.” With a terse nod to Jared, he faced Avery. “Use the information I have given you. Save him.”

  He turned and jogged across the park. Jared reached for his phone, and Avery grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Agent Lee. That man is a mass murderer. I don’t care why he did it, he should answer for his crimes.”

  “Yes, he should. But think about it. He’s managed to evade DHS for months. By the time the FBI gets here, do you really think they’ll find him? More likely, we’ll be taken into custody, have to explain what he’s done, show them information we haven’t seen yet, and hope for the best.”

  Knowing she was right, Jared tightened his fingers around the phone. “That’s assuming Major Vance doesn’t have us detained and transported under an extraordinary rendition order.” He shook his head in disgust. “Avery, we have to expose them. All of them.”

  “I know. If what we have proves that President Stokes and Major Vance were part of this, we will. I promise.”

  Jared took her hand and began to lead her across the park to the Metro station. “I believe you. Let’s get back before they figure out we’re gone.”

  FORTY-THREE

  Avery and Jared returned to the law firm and, using a signal they’d prearranged with Noah and Ling, made their way to the conference room without alerting their security detail. An hour later, Agent Lee arrived at the firm. Through the glass, they watched him as he spoke to one of the agents on duty.