The complicating factor was that he couldn’t explain much of his true rationale to his colleagues. If he started talking about psychics predicting the end of the world, some or even most would doubt his sanity. A few would talk publically in spite of his requests. This wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted providing material for the opening comedy routines on late-night television.
Toby tried to focus on the arguments he could use. How about he couch it as another group was doing a more far-reaching analysis and they had approached him and asked—no, begged—that y1 back off for just six months or so. This group would take responsibility for cutting into d4’s profits sufficiently to ensure that Baldur did not become too big to stop. This group was equally devoted to helping humanity in its own way, and it was putting in place a sort of sting operation that would be far more damning than any academic study ever could be. It was in everyone’s interest to give this group the time that they had asked for.
Toby practiced it over and over in his head. He would personally go visit the other key members of y1 and deliver his message face-to-face. He would be fine, until each asked him the one question he would be unable to answer. “What is this other group?”
Secret, he would say. Very secret. The fine folks of y1 could then just conclude what they would.
******
Cillian had another matter he needed to tend to before events spiraled out of control, and once he explained it to Brendan, Brendan understood. Siarnaq and Cillian had to meet.
They would have to persuade Mikkel to help, and it still wasn’t going to be easy. Siarnaq barely trusted Mikkel after their brief meeting of reconciliation. It was true that Siarnaq had studied at a trade school in Copenhagen when he was younger, and thanks to his schooling there, his English was passable. However, the prospect of a trip to Ireland at the behest of a man he had only recently stopped viewing as his sworn enemy was not going to garner instant enthusiasm.
“Make sure that Mikkel has told him what I can do,” Cillian said. “And Brendan, I’m not sure if Mikkel understands that Ariel once shared an intimate relationship with Siarnaq. Tread carefully there—it’s Ariel’s story to share with him, not ours. All you need to do is make sure that Mikkel tells Siarnaq that it is important that he and I meet and exchange our visions.”
“I don’t think Siarnaq will necessarily be open to the same kind of exchange with you,” Brendan said with seriousness in his voice. “Unless he has been very secretive about it, you’re not his type.”
Cillian laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting sex. For two other men it might be possible, might even be the greatest joining together ever. But I don’t think either Siarnaq or I are wired that way. That doesn’t mean that we can’t touch, strip to our skivvies if we have to and embrace as brothers. Wait, I know. Have Mikkel tell Siarnaq that I said we are brothers, in a very real sense of the word, and that I wish to hug my brother, so that I might see what he sees. That should convey the message the best.”
“What do think you will find out by doing this that you haven’t already?”
Cillian took a deep breath. “Do you realize how many life-altering sacrifices I have asked and continue to ask of you and everyone else around me? So many that it is getting absurd. Were it not for Siarnaq, I would have been doubting myself long ago. Even knowing of him, I still doubt. I need to know what happened, I mean what does happen. I need to know what I’m fighting.”
“You’re hoping that touching Siarnaq, holding him and pressing your skin against his will let you see the missing pieces?” Brendan said.
“Of course I do. Face it, a year ago I didn’t know that there was an Ariel, much less what she could do if she combined her touch with others whose vision was similar to hers. I have only one such muse I can tap into that I know of, and that is Siarnaq, my closest psychic kin. If our touch doesn’t give answers to me, then maybe it will give them to him.”
Brendan understood. “We’d all like to know more,” he agreed.
“Sure you would. I’d be a fool not to try this and so would Siarnaq. Let Mikkel know how important it is that he convince his cousin to come here, and then let me know how he responds.”
Siarnaq was on a plane two days later. When he first agreed to come to Ireland, he had hoped that he could use this trip as a way to see Ariel also, and maybe smooth over their differences in person. But as soon as he saw his ticket he realized that he had been invited for a brief encounter only. Perhaps it was for the best that there was no time for a meeting with Ariel, he thought sadly. He had a purpose with Cillian that would need his full attention. Time with Ariel would have been complicated to arrange and might go even worse than their recent phone conversations. He sadly let go of the idea.
The thought of physical closeness with a stranger, and with a man, had given him pause at first, but in the end Cillian’s reasoning was every bit as clear to Siarnaq as it had been to Cillian. This needed to happen. Brendan picked Siarnaq up at the airport and drove him to Cillian’s estate.
Views from the world over were available to Siarnaq every day on the internet, yet seeing something on a screen isn’t the same as being driven up a wide, rock-lined drive to an old Irish estate on a blustery autumn afternoon. The clouds were dark and heavy. The wind came in fast, strong bursts that warned of the storm to come.
In spite of the weather, Cillian had chosen to meet Siarnaq out at the gazebo, the best spot on the grounds for avoiding prying eyes. Cillian studied the mostly Inuit young man as he strode up the steps, determination in his every step.
He was taller, thinner and younger than Cillian had expected, with a head full of shiny straight black hair, worn longish, and a seriousness on his face. He took a look at Cillian and he nodded. Then he pulled off his jacket, lifted a sweater over his head and a t-shirt after it. His clothes hid strong muscles that were now apparent as he stood bare-chested in the cold wind and waited.
Cillian understood. Off came everything above the waist, while Brendan watched silently. As the breeze picked up and little pellets of rain began to fall, Siarnaq marched up to Cillian and wrapped his arms around the Irishman’s sturdy, freckled torso and held on tight. Cillian hesitated for a few seconds, and then responded in kind and his long arms held Siarnaq’s golden brown body against his.
The little roof of the gazebo provided scant protection from rain that was blown in harder and faster as the wind picked up in intensity, but the two men seemed oblivious to the storm. However Brendan was getting increasingly uncomfortable and was wondering just how long this exchange of information was going to take. Should he head indoors, dry off and wait for them, or should he keep watch?
He turned at a sound and saw one of the housekeepers huddled under an umbrella walking rapidly towards the gazebo. She held three more unopened umbrellas in her hand. “I brought you these,” she said, handing them to Brendan, averting her eyes from the other two men. She turned around and scurried back to the house with her head down.
Siarnaq and Cillian broke apart, both recognizing the intrusion.
“Did you have enough time?” Brendan asked, concern in his voice.
“I think so,” Cillian said.
“I don’t want to see any more,” Siarnaq added.
“Good,” was all Brendan said as the three men hurried towards the main house in the rain. Doyle was standing at the window, still holding up his cell phone against the glass pane, apparently trying to get pictures through the water drops. He stared at the two shirtless men as they came in the door. One of the older maids, who had always been particularly kind to Cillian, met them with towels.
“Now this? Haven’t you broken your father’s heart enough?” Doyle muttered to them as he walked on by.
“You might want to do a wee bit of damage control with him,” the maid whispered to Cillian. “He’s such a prickly sort, as you well know, and he’s probably headed upstairs now to talk to your dad, who seems to be having one of his good days.”
******
Nell looked hard for an excuse for Murna to go to Reykjavik, but she finally had to go without one, telling Hulda truthfully that she needed the comfort of her lover’s arms. Although no harsh words had passed between the two women, Nell had recently picked up on less warmth in Hulda’s voice, less eye contact during their frequent video chats. She’d mentioned it to Cillian, and he thought it important that Nell’s creation, Murna, had best make the trip and reaffirm Hulda’s loyalty.
Hulda cleared her calendar for the weekend and made Murna welcome in her home, but Nell could tell from the moment she arrived that something had changed. As the two women sat in Hulda’s small, sparsely furnished, yet very clean and cheery front room, they exchanged pleasantries, but they largely kept their distance from each other. Nell realized that she had been letting the West Ireland accent slip since her arrival, and her gestures and manners were becoming ever more those of Nell, and less those of Murna. Finally Hulda looked at her thoughtfully and asked, “Is this when you tell me who you really are?”
“I can’t yet,” Nell said. “I guess that this is when I tell you instead that I, the real me, loves you as well as Murna. No, loves you better than Murna ever could, and I beg you to believe that until I can prove it to you.”
There was a trace of sadness in Hulda’s smile. “Really? Because I’ve grown particularly fond of Murna over the past two years, and I’m not sure I’m inclined to be quite as taken with this other woman who sometimes occupies her body.”
“Her reasons for misleading you are excellent,” Nell said. ”How long have you known?”
“Suspected? From the beginning. Murna was a little too exotic, a little too perfect to be more than fantasy. Yet why resist? At first I merely enjoyed myself, then after a while I played along to find out why this fantasy had targeted me, a mere secretary. As my boss became more powerful, more distasteful, and his whole company more suspicious, what a fine surprise it was to discover that this fantasy wanted me to join in her story. She wanted me to play spy, to plant cameras and sneak information to bring down this loathsome boss. Why resist? It was that or quit in my disgust for Baldur, and this way I had a lover, I had an honorable purpose, and I had a job.” Hulda gave a satisfied shrug.
“Perhaps Murna underestimated how perceptive you are,” Nell said.
“Perhaps the imposter in Murna’s body overestimated her own acting skills,” Hulda replied, and Nell had to laugh.
“So is this where you tell me that you are tired of the charade and are breaking up with me?” Nell asked.
“No, this is when I insist on getting some answers.”
Nell thought for a few seconds. It was possible she was going to have to share more information with Hulda then she or Cillian had planned. “When did you go from suspicious to certain?” she asked.
“The day I called to tell Murna about the American girl and how Baldur had some strange desire to get this girl alone on his boat. When I shared my fears with Murna, I heard another woman answer. This woman knew Ariel, and she was too angry at Baldur and too fearful for her friend to remember to pretend. Since then, I’ve been sure that there are two of you, and the woman I do not know has a life in Dublin. So this is also the day that I ask you if you have feelings for this girl Ariel.”
Nell let out a sigh of relief. “Is that what you’ve been worried about? My God, no.”
“She’s pretty, she’s smart, I could see how it could happen,” Hulda persisted.
“Well it hasn’t, because we’re both in love with somebody else,” Nell said. “Rather, there is a man that Ariel is falling in love with right now, and he is a good match for her and she for him. As for me, as I might have mentioned already, my heart is taken.”
Hulda didn’t look convinced. She and Nell eyed each other for a long minute until Nell sighed for a second time and make an executive decision.
“Come here,” Nell said, and she held her arms to Hulda. Hulda hesitated, then came and sat on the couch next to Nell, and let Nell wrap an arm around her shoulder and gently stroke her hair. Her body softened a little, and she scooted closer.
As the two women curled together, Nell began to talk. “This is so much bigger, and about so much more than an oddly gifted greedy man who threatens the wealth distribution in Iceland and the rest of Europe. Hulda, I’m part of something far more important, and I need you to understand that.”
“So tell me. What could possibly be so important?”
Nell started to talk. Finally speaking the truth felt so good that Nell went way beyond what she had originally intended. By the time that the night was halfway through, Hulda and Nell had no more secrets. Then Nell did her best to convince Hulda without words that Hulda was not only Murna’s one true love, but she was Nell’s as well.
21. Autumn in Oslo
By Ariel was still looking forward to the weekend with Mikkel, but the truth was that the meeting in Dublin and all that had been discussed put something of a damper on her enthusiasm. The group had concluded that she would need to appear to play along with Baldur’s plans to push her and Mikkel together, and it was left to her to draw the line where she wished. Now she had to strike a balance between truth and discretion, and another line between her own desires and a hopeful outcome for everyone.
Mikkel greeted her with a warm hug, and Ariel savored a quick premory of chocolate pudding enjoyed at some upcoming celebration. His mother’s chocolate pudding, made from scratch.
“What do you see?” he asked, this time recognizing the look of concentration on her face.
“Nothing,” she shrugged. “Dessert. You do like your desserts.”
They flirted and talked as they made their way out of the airport and to the hotel. Finally, they were checked in, the bellhop was sent on his way, and suddenly it was awkward.
“We don’t know each other very well,” he said, thinking he understood her unexpected shyness.
“No, we don’t, and things have gotten so much more complicated since I played fortune-teller with you last time.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Ariel was not prone to deception, and so out came the story of the meeting between Cillian and Toby and the group’s consensus that the best plan was to play along with Baldur as he tried to push her and Mikkel together. If she appeared to be falling for Mikkel and then appeared to reluctantly agree to help Baldur on his behalf, everyone thought that Baldur would be less suspicious and that would make him easier to ultimately bring down.
“So you’re not here to be with me? You’re here just to bait this creep?” Mikkel sounded disappointed.
“No, I’m here to do both. I mean being with you was my choice, my first choice. But now it’s like, I don’t know, I’ve agreed to do this because it made sense, and now I’ve got Baldur watching me, probably gloating that he can manipulate me into your arms. There are eight other people cheering us on, more than half of whom I work with, by the way, and something that was just kind of private and really nice between us suddenly makes me feel like I’m up there pole dancing for everyone or something. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“You explained it quite well,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t blame you. To be honest, Ariel, I kind of agree. This has turned bizarre. Let’s back up. Are you good with the group’s plan to allow yourself to be persuaded to help Baldur?”
Ariel nodded. “I helped create the plan. No one forced me into this.”
“Okay. I’m not as wild about it as the rest of you are—you should know that. I don’t mind you faking an interest in me…” Ariel started to object. Mikkel put up his hand. “Let me finish please. I don’t mind you faking an interest in me in order to further the demise of a man who needs to be stopped, but we both know that this puts you, and me too, in a certain amount of danger. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“I don’t think we have to get all dramatic about this,” Ariel countered.
“I think we do. Baldur is a potentially dangerous man playing for incredibly hig
h stakes. You and I aren’t fools. We shouldn’t act like we are by letting ourselves develop feelings for each other right now. You need to keep a clear head. So do I.”
“Well this sucks,” Ariel muttered.
“Hey, once your gang of eight decided that you and I were going to deceive Baldur, they dictated this.” He looked at her, puzzled. “What, you thought that we could have a little fun on the side, no harm no foul, and part way through the weekend you’d give me the good news that we were also fulfilling a greater agenda?”
She nodded numbly.
“Come on, we are both too smart for that. Hearts follow where bodies go. In some ways it’s more difficult if only one of us gets attached, because we still both have to keep up the charade. It’s more dangerous if we both develop feelings. You know I’m right.”
Ariel hadn’t given the situation such a cold and objective analysis, but she listened to Mikkel and got what he was trying to say. He was trying to look out for both of their safety. She sat on the corner of the bed feeling sad and defeated.
“It’s not all bad, Ariel. We still get to go sightseeing in Oslo and have a weekend get away. We need to be seen out doing things—we’ll have some fun.”
Of course they would, Ariel thought. Just not the kind of fun she had been hoping for.
They treated themselves to a dinner at a wonderful restaurant in an old town hall built in 1641. Ariel wondered if the shortsighted focus on the present, disproportionately common in the Americans, was an artifact of seldom encountering history more that a couple of hundred years old. She mentioned the idea to Mikkel and he agreed right away, laughing that she had stumbled on an observation shared by most of the rest of the world.
They kept the conversation light and general, and by the time they got back to the hotel some of the awkwardness had subsided. Mikkel began looking around the room for an alternative to sharing the cozy double bed or sleeping on the floor. There wasn’t one.
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