In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1)

by Christine Hart

  “I’m here to apply for a job in your administration department. A friend of mine, Rubin, gave me your card.” I handed over the small piece of paper embossed with my sweaty thumbprint.

  Her beautiful face took on a look of pity and concern. “Oh. Um, I’m really very sorry, but I don’t think we have any openings at the moment,” she said slowly, sizing me up much the way last night’s bouncer had.

  I stood my ground. I’d changed into my most presentable clothes–a set of brown corduroys and a long-sleeve grey-collared top. I wore my own hair pulled into a plain, but tidy ponytail. With my free hand, I fidgeted with the wisps hanging loose around my face, wracking my brain for something to say when a door clicked down the hall.

  A tall, slim man wearing a crisp light blue dress shirt and charcoal pants walked into the room and smiled. In the fluorescent light, his pale skin blended with his shirt.

  “Melissa, I hate to interrupt,” he said slowly, as smooth as silk, “but I could have sworn I heard this young lady asking about employment.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s correct. I offered to keep her resume on file, since we don’t have anything available just now.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about hiring a new assistant,” he said cheerfully. She looked as though he’d slapped her in the face. He continued, “We keep you quite busy and I need someone to handle more of my personal matters.” He turned to me and asked, “Does a role like that hold any interest for you, young lady?”

  He didn’t even know my name yet and I didn’t know his, but the man seemed prepared to offer me a job. I thought of Rubin and I felt torn between my desire to trust them and my instinctive suspicions. I felt conflicted about the idea of being anyone’s personal assistant, whether I was qualified for the job or not. Being a go-fer had been part of my job before–the more humiliating part. I hated having to fetch coffee and lunch orders, make other people’s phone calls, send other people’s emails, call for couriers and cabs, maintain office supply inventory, and generally do tiny menial tasks the person who assigned it to me should have been doing for him or herself.

  “My name is Ivan. I have the privilege of signing a few checks around here. Why don’t you step into my office? We’ll go over the details and make sure we’re a fit for each other,” he said.

  I took his attempt at modesty to mean that the company was small and the job not too illustrious. I took it as a good sign that he acted humble rather than domineering, so I nodded and set my bag down on one of the front room’s angular black chairs. I let Melissa take my jacket and followed Ivan back to his office. The letters on his door read, “Ivan Krylov” in thin black letters. There was no job title.

  “Please have a seat.” He gestured toward a plush leather chair positioned in front of his desk.

  I sat down and folded my hands in my lap. Ivan took his time finishing whatever task he had underway on his computer. I fidgeted, wringing my hands as he calmly clicked and typed. I busied myself taking in my surroundings. Ivan’s office was hardly pretentious. On the wall to my left, he had a large, colorful, modern acrylic painting depicting an aerial view of the city’s Inner Harbour. Behind his chair, a bay window looked out over the street. From where I sat, I could only see the top of the building across the way. On my right, a partition separated his desk from a small kitchenette.

  “So,” he said, swiveling to face me. “What brings you to Innoviro Industries today? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

  “I’m from Prince George. My name is Irina Proffer. Sorry, I should have started with that,” I blushed, but continued. “I’m new to Victoria. I came here to . . . have a vacation and I actually wasn’t really looking for work. I planned mostly to wander. But I met a man named Rubin and he suggested I apply here if I decided to stay in Victoria for a while and needed a job. Not that I’d expect anyone to give me a job only because I need one. I don’t have a degree, but I’m qualified. I have office administration experience from a car dealership back home. I can give you contact information, but I don’t have a resume on me. Normally I’d bring a resume of course.” I forced myself to stop talking before I did more damage.

  “Rubin is a good friend of mine, so if he’s referred you, I’m quite pleased.” Ivan examined a piece of paper on his desk and I regretted even more deeply the fact that I didn’t have a resume. “I’ll give you an overview of our work here at Innoviro. This is a research firm, retained by private companies, ranging from pharmaceutical designers to electronic technology developers, and even a few federal meteorological installations. We conduct tests to ensure that our partners are creating safe, well-designed products. Sort of like a tutor for science-based manufacturers.” Ivan paused and smiled.

  I still had a shot at the job, which made me even more nervous. I couldn’t think of a single question to ask. None of his explanation of what Innoviro did made any sense to me. Used cars–no problem. Advanced scientific testing–that’s biting off a handful more than I could chew. He had to be humoring me based on his personal level of professional tact. I took a deep breath. A graceful exit was the most dignity I could retain at this point.

  “What I’m looking for in an assistant is, I’m ashamed to say, mostly personal. Since I started Innoviro six years ago, we’ve experienced a phase of hyper-growth, adding offices in several other cities, and I can’t keep up with the demands on my time. Melissa’s role is to take care of Innoviro’s administrative needs and to run our Victoria office. To put it bluntly, I’m looking for someone to run my personal errands, help me manage my schedule, and book appointments. Basically you’d take care of the minor stuff that slows down my day.” He chuckled briefly and then looked down as he continued, “It’s not stimulating or exciting work. But it’s my hope that whomever we bring on board for this position can grow within the company once my schedule slows down enough that I can look after myself again.”

  I wanted to launch into a speech, making my case for the job. A sensible question finally came to mind. “Wow. The job is pretty much what I expected. But, the stuff you work on here is way out of my league. I don’t want to pretend I’m something I’m not. I have no academic background in science or business. Are you sure I will be able to grow within the company? Won’t I need additional training?”

  “We do look for some kind of post-secondary education, within one of the academic sciences or from a technical institute’s lab tech program. But as this particular job relates to my personal needs, I think someone with less training is actually an asset. I want an assistant to do the job the way I ask, rather than someone who tries to perform the role from a textbook. When it’s time for a promotion, you’ll have learned everything you need to know.”

  I still had no idea what I was getting into, but Ivan made his sale. I wanted to work for him. “Think of me as a blank slate.” I smiled nervously. “I’m a hard worker, I’m smart, and I learn fast. I know that sounds kind of generic, but it’s true. Point me at whatever you need done and I’ll get on it right away. If I don’t know how to do something, I always figure it out.”

  “You do seem like a bright girl. But I should also let you know that we demand the full attention of our employees and ask for passion, dedication, and loyalty. I want employees who are willing to ‘drink the Kool-Aid’ so to speak.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I still wasn’t sure what he meant, but hoped to wrap up the meeting before I rambled my way back out of the job. “Do you need me to fill out an application or something? Should I leave the number for my motel with Melissa?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m happy to get the paperwork started on hiring you today. Congratulations; the job belongs to you if you want it.”

  “Great! That’s so awesome! I mean, thank you for the opportunity.”

  Chapter 4

  Ivan grinned again and shook my hand. His icy iron grip caught me off guard, but I pump
ed back as firmly as I could. He instructed Melissa to print and pass me forms for both Innoviro human resources and government taxes. I filled them out hunched over the coffee table near the reception desk. Ivan asked me to come back first thing the next day. Melissa’s dejected expression had no effect on him.

  I returned the papers and collected my jacket as other employees emerged from that vault door, probably to go for lunch. I scanned their faces, looking for Jonah or Cole, but neither of them appeared. Seeing Jonah again was bound to happen, so I smiled to myself anyway.

  The walk home felt effortless, like I’d lived in Victoria all my life and belonged. I left the market and crossed over to the alley that would connect me to Chinatown. I had no intention of dropping in on the tea lady, but I wanted to enjoy the quaint brick close that bore no resemblance to the stark industrial landscape of my hometown.

  As I slipped into the alley, I thought I heard a faint jingling. I stopped and it was gone. I started walking again and I heard it again. I smirked to myself, thinking that the noise came from the magic 8-ball keychain clipped to one of the top zippers of my backpack. Tension slid off me and I let the chain tinkle with each step. I imagined the rubber triangle inside the ball divining at random for the bricks on the ground.

  I had to tell Mom the good news, but it was too soon to start splurging on frills like a cell phone. The first thing I’d done after I lost my old job was to cancel my cell account and turn in my phone. It made me feel incredibly downtrodden, but I’d intended to score huge points with my parents. Darryl had said good riddance with his usual awkward gruffness. Mom clicked her tongue and said I needed to get back in the game if I wanted luxuries like a smart phone. She and I had different definitions of the word ‘luxury’.

  Reliving my mom’s lecture again made gave me a stomachache. Did she think I was incapable of getting it together? The unpleasant sensation of my lungs constricting from tension followed quickly and I dreaded hearing her voice. But then I remembered the earful I’d already gotten for not calling fast enough after arriving in Victoria. The phone in my motel room would likely be expensive. One of the few pay phones I’d noted in the downtown core sat in front of the auto repair garage on the corner of my motel’s side street. So I headed home by way of that garage parking lot. When I picked up the receiver, the plastic felt sticky and cold against my ear as I listened to the dial tone and plugged coins into the abused metal box.

  “Hello?” Mom answered, with her usual lack of enthusiasm.

  “Mom, it’s me. I got a job!”

  “Sweetie, that’s so wonderful. Well done!”

  She sounded happy for me, but distracted and not surprisingly, still irritated that I hadn’t been keeping in touch well enough. I promised I’d buy a cell phone or at least get on a plan when I got my first paycheck. I said I expected to be able to email once I had a desk and a computer. A recorded operator cut me off, announcing that I had to insert another dollar to continue the call. I didn’t have any more change so I cursed into the receiver and slammed the phone back on its hook.

  I wanted to tell Mom so much more. I wanted to share my discoveries and my worries, but there was no way to make any of it believable for her if I still didn’t understand it all myself. I stood next to the phone booth, frustrated, torn between going on to my room and marching to the nearest ATM. I could grab some cash, buy some gum, and have change for another call in less than 20 minutes.

  I looked down the street and then back at the garage wall in time to glimpse a shadow gliding across the painted pale green brick. The dark shape slipped around the corner into the alleyway behind the building before I could get a good look. I felt the frown lines on my forehead deepen.

  I put one foot in front of the other, walking slowly towards the alley, rationalizing that I needed to simply confirm I hadn’t seen a shadow cast by nothing. Something would be there in the alley and it would be benign, like a balloon on a string. I could feel the air getting colder and my chest constricting. Still, I couldn’t resist sating my curiosity, a weakness that got more dangerous by the day.

  The narrow alley allowed one person to walk between an overgrown chain link fence and a mildew-stained brick wall. The tight dead end space contained nothing more than a few rotting wood pallets strewn around grease-coated concrete. The roof of the garage shaded the alley as the sun sank behind the other side. Nothing stirred as I entered.

  My breath puffed clouds that dissolved behind me after each step. An overwhelming sense of dread gripped me in the eerily still air. I marched towards the end of the alley and something grabbed my collar.

  I felt a scream inside, but no sound came out. Something thick and strong clamped my mouth shut. I wrestled, fighting to free myself or to twist and at least see my attacker. The grip on my jacket collar lifted me up off the ground. I fought harder, flailing kicks in every direction.

  “We’re watching you,” a deep raspy voice said into my ear. I tried to twist around again. “We know who you are. We know what you are. And we expect you to keep quiet about our world.” His hot breath reeked of garlic and tobacco.

  I tried to say something as I struggled. I tried to make a noise to draw help. Pain demanded my attention. The zipper of my coat dug into my neck, choking me as tiny plastic teeth bit the skin of my throat. I was going to die in an alley! And then I fell to the ground with a gasp, landing on the balls of my feet before crumpling to the side. Fresh pain seared my ankles. The urge to run overpowered my instinct to recover and I limped as quickly as I could out onto the sidewalk. I jogged in spite of the pain until I reached the motel parking lot, slowing to a brisk walk to avoid drawing attention to myself as I sped up the stairs to my room.

  The key card shook in my hand as I rattled the handle. I flung the door shut behind me. I collapsed into a chair and stared down at the table. My backpack sat across from me as if to greet me with a deadpan reminder that it would be easier–and safer–to leave. I pushed back my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. Who or what had just attacked me? How could I find out? Rubin? Or would he send me back to Innoviro? Should I stick to my plan and go to work there?

  My instincts shifted from flight to fight. Anger surged through me. The kind of righteous anger you feel when someone shoves you to the ground for no reason. The bitter humiliation that comes from not defending yourself.

  I didn’t have any way to contact Rubin, but I still had my cards. I fished the cracked paper packet out of my backpack and emptied the deck onto the table. They looked so unassuming now. The cracked coated paper looked dull in the sunlight cast onto the table. I shuffled them, calmly concentrating, willing the cards to relinquish something useful from their two-dimensional scenes.

  As I laid down a row of three cards, I only glanced at the paper images before the pictures in my head flooded my field of vision. I saw my mystery man-boy again, this time standing in the same Chinatown teashop where Rubin had sent me. He spoke with the same eccentric lady I’d met, but the conversation was muted and I didn’t hear a word.

  They moved too slowly and the image blurred in my mind. I concentrated and it came back with intensity. I saw through the boy’s eyes. He looked over his shoulder to a figure outside the window. Handbills and posters obscured the figure’s face. He collected his own brown paper bag and turned to leave. I felt myself walk through the doorway with him, looking around the alley as he did. We turned to face the man waiting for him. It was unmistakably my new boss, Ivan.

  The reflex to back away gripped me. I felt myself stepping backwards in the alley and standing up from my chair at the same time. I had snapped back to my hotel room. I still had no idea of what I’d bumped into on the way home, but now I knew Innoviro was definitely worth a visit.

  I slipped out of my work clothes, smudged with dirt from my roll on the pavement, and pulled on my sweat pants and a T-shirt. I had one more outfit I could wear to work. Tomorro
w, I could get some new or at least better clothes. I’d try to track down Jonah and Cole, the latter for protection as I recalled the moment when he slugged that huge bouncer in the gut.

  Morning came with the unpleasant ringing of Darryl’s wind-up pocket alarm clock. Yet one more reason to get a cell phone, I thought, as I reached for the obnoxiously loud bell.

  As soon as I remembered my plans to find Jonah and Cole at work, I couldn’t wait to get out the door. I skipped the diner and got a croissant for breakfast on the way back to Innoviro. I finished the pastry and dusted my hands as I walked up the last flight of stairs to the familiar steel door.

  Melissa already sat at her desk. She glanced up at me briefly and returned to writing something on a notepad. I wondered what her to-do list looked like and if it contained an item for ‘get Irina fired’ possibly coded with language like ‘remove the new bag’.

  “Ivan’s not in yet, but he asked me to give you a tour of the office.” Melissa stood. She refused to break eye contact with her notepad.

  “Follow me. It’s a short tour. You won’t have access to the labs below until you’ve passed your three month probation,” she said. “You’ll probably never see any of our international offices, so I won’t even bother talking about those.”

  I followed, nodding and saying, ‘OK’ as optimistically as I could each time she pointed something out in a flat, joyless tone of voice. I looked around for signs of other staff, hoping for Jonah or Cole to pass. Utter silence, with the exception of our footsteps and the ticking of fluorescent lights overhead, left me disappointed.