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

by Christine Hart

  “ . . . I have a new recruit on her way, so I want your schedule flexible for testing on-demand. I’m not sure how quickly things will progress, so I want your undivided attention when the need arises,” said Ivan.

  “Absolutely, sir. I can assure you the new subject will be my first priority in the lab, and I’ll keep you apprised of all results as soon as I have them. When do you anticipate obtaining the first specimen?” said Brad in an exceedingly cooperative tone.

  “I believe we’ll see her within the week, but we’ll know more once Rubin makes contact ...” Tatiana’s entrance interrupted Ivan.

  “I have that correspondence transcription you requested. It confirms what we discussed,” she said.

  “That’s fine, leave the file with me,” said Ivan as he reached for the folder. “Oh, and please take this document back to our associate. It’s an ‘eyes only’ file regarding the Compendium.” He passed her a white envelope with Innoviro’s logo in the center.

  As the paper made contact with Tatiana’s hand, the office dissolved and I stood at an intersection on a stretch of highway I’d never seen. To my left, traffic flowed down to a small suburban mall. I looked to my right and saw a concrete cube building with a large ventilation tube. It had to be where the envelope went. I concentrated on the inside of the building and my viewpoint jumped forward. In a moment, my gaze left the ground and my mind’s eye focused on a desk inside one of the windows on the top floor. I concentrated harder, looking for some identifiable marker in the office. Out the door and across the hall the door read “402”.

  I let go of Brad’s arm as he wrestled harder and harder. Vertigo hit me hard and I fell off my crate and thudded to the floor clumsily. Ilya knelt down beside me and reached out with an empathetic look. I returned to rubbing my sore hand.

  “What did you see?” he said frantically.

  “Some envelope that was really important to Ivan and Tatiana went out to a Federal building on the highway somewhere. I’ve never been there, but I think it’s here in town. Near a mall.”

  “Good, good. Can you describe it in detail?”

  “Yes, but I feel really gross. I need to lie down first.”

  “Here, take this,” said Ilya as he handed me a little notebook and a pen. “Go take a nap. We brought a few sleeping bags and blankets from Hugo’s. Write down everything you remember before you pass out.”

  I took the notepad and did as he suggested. I grabbed a sleeping bag and took it into one of the offices facing the street. The floor had the same dirt and debris as the rest of the floor, but surprisingly this room was a bit warmer than the rest. I looked down at sun-bleached patches of carpet and took the hint. I unrolled the bag over by a window. A pocket of warm air welcomed me as I sat down in the padded nylon cocoon. I looked out the window at the people walking below, young and old, marching and meandering, as varied as the people I’d watched from the booth at the Capitol City Motel diner. Then I wrote. And wrote.

  My narrative covered Ivan’s office, the documents, the highway, intersection and mall, the building, and room 402 across from the envelope’s final destination. Then I closed the notebook and pulled it to my chest inside the sleeping bag. Shifting and twisting, I tried lying on my side, on my back, curled up, but comfort and sleep eluded me. My eyelids responded slowly over dry eyes. My forehead throbbed and my stomach grumbled. And then tears came, pooling in my eyes. I didn’t even know why I was crying, but it felt completely justified. Out of nowhere, Jonah’s hand touched my shoulder.

  “You got room for one more in there?” he said with a playful smirk.

  I stared up at him, at a loss for words. I rubbed my eyes to hide the tears.

  His smile disappeared as he read the expression on my face. “Have you changed your mind about me?” Jonah’s voice was quiet with concern.

  “No, but . . . last night, it happened again. That draining thing,” I said avoiding those bright blue eyes. He touched my cheek to comfort me. I flinched and he retracted his hand.

  “I know, but it will get better when I finally nail down the research I was doing with Ivan. It’s kind of selfish, but I’m hoping all this drama leads to some progress for me too. If Ivan’s been doing some shady stuff, maybe he’s made progress on my case that he hasn’t shared yet, you know, to make sure I keep working there longer. Funny thing is, I felt so indebted to him, and I may have stayed loyal even if I had seen some dodgy stuff.”

  “You didn’t know. Every test you had was one you gave informed consent to, and maybe the others consented properly too, not knowing that Ivan was working on something bigger than them. You shouldn’t have to give up on getting better. When this is sorted out, we’ll find a way to get your work back on track.”

  “I don’t think you realize how rare Ivan’s company and research is. Do you really think there are other people out there researching genetic variations that most people think are pure science fiction? To even try to stabilize my condition, I need a lab and supplies, which costs money. And over the long run, I’ll need a job to start paying rent and bills again. I haven’t been stashing money in anticipation of Ivan being a sociopath. I knew I wouldn’t have it that good forever, but I still thought life after Innoviro was years away.”

  I looked squarely at Jonah, suddenly sure I knew exactly how he felt. Maybe we had a lot in common after all. As I studied his features in the soft white overcast light from the window, I saw how ill he looked. The skin around his eyes had a mildly bruised sunken look and his complexion was too pale. Camille hadn’t said exactly how serious his problem was and neither had Cole.

  “Be honest with me. How sick are you? Are we talking about finding a way for us to be together? Or is this about keeping you . . . healthy?” I almost said ‘alive’ but I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

  “I’m not sure. Ivan had me on a weekly injection, but that’s over now. And my situation is complicated. Most variants are born different or modified with advanced expertise, either before birth or as a child. I was pretty much an adult and what I did to myself was all thumbs compared to Ivan’s staff. I was studying under a man working on a cure for cystic fibrosis. He had a theory that he could use a combination of viruses to both manage symptoms and change a subject’s genetic makeup. One of his projects was a genetically altered cold virus. One of its effects was to reduce sinus fluid production.”

  “Were you trying to prove him right and volunteer yourself for testing? Did you even have that condition?”

  “If it had been like that, I would have told you. But I’m so ashamed to admit this, it wasn’t anything heroic. I was really sick one semester –regular colds and allergies–and I only wanted my sinuses to stop going overboard. I got drunk one night and I broke into the lab thinking that I’d never get sick again if my sinuses stopped producing too much fluid. Obviously, the virus had a completely different effect on me. I blame the fact that I’d been drinking absinthe when I injected the virus,” said Jonah, looking at the ground. “It was by far the stupidest move of my entire life. I’ve got only myself to blame for the trouble I’m in now.”

  “So it’s getting worse, but is it going to get really bad, like you’re going to turn into a fish or something?” I said, laughing nervously.

  “If I turned into a fish, I could dive into the nearest lake or ocean, depending, and forget about everything else,” he said with a forced smile. “No, this is going to kill me. The moisture my body craves now is going to overload me sooner or later. We’re made of a lot of water, but there is such a thing as too much.”

  “We’ll find a way to reverse it. If Ivan can inject me with a psychic-enhancing serum, there’s someone somewhere that can undo your variation.”

  “No offense, Irina, but you don’t know the first thing about genetics. Even if we derailed the proverbial train I’m on right now, there’s no way to know we�
�d find a cure for what’s wrong with me. We still have to remember all the other people who’ve had their lives damaged. We still don’t know what Ivan really wanted to do with his secret.”

  “This all started because I wanted revenge, on Rubin and on Ivan. Revenge and my gut feelings,” I said, frustrated and frowning. “Such shitty reasons to tear everyone’s lives apart.”

  “Nothing will bring your parents back, but after talking with Ilya and seeing how many others wanted to hide from Ivan, I think it’s worth listening to your gut.”

  “Thank you, I needed to hear that. I meant what I said about getting your treatment back on track though.”

  Jonah smiled and cuddled up to me. He stayed on the outside of the sleeping bag and I let him. Would each kiss hurt him now as much as me? Or would he get worse at the same rate regardless?

  Chapter 15

  The sun had set when I slipped out of my sleeping bag. I looked over at Jonah, who lay on his side reading, his head propped up with one arm. I’d created a makeshift floor lamp by propping up one of the utility flashlights we swiped from Hugo’s. A sudden cry of rage drew both our attention to the door. Jonah sat up, we looked at each other, and Ilya yelled again.

  “Arrrrrgh! Useless . . . hopeless . . . sleazy . . .” screamed Ilya. “Asshole!” he shouted as his voice got closer. He stormed into the room. “He’s gone. That shifty bastard escaped!”

  “How? I mean, you had him strapped down six ways from Sunday. Where did he go?” I said.

  “How should I know where he went, Irina? Does it matter now?”

  “No, but what’s the point of freaking out if we’re not going after him?” said Jonah, rubbing his eyes.

  “We’ve got enough to go on without him. I think I can find the office and the envelope I saw in my last vision,” I said.

  “We needed more than that!” said Ilya.

  “No, we wanted more. But let’s worry about what we’ve got, not what we lost,” said Jonah. Ilya’s heavy breathing relaxed down as he considered Jonah’s perspective.

  “What the hell is going on in here? I go get one lousy cup of coffee and the sky freakin’ falls,” said Faith.

  “Brad escaped.” My eyes met hers.

  “Great. Now we can get on with the trip to Vancouver,” she said flatly.

  “No, Irina had a new vision. There’s something damning here in Victoria. A document of some sort,” said Ilya.

  “Well let’s go get it then.” The snark in Faith’s voice seeped through, although she clearly tried to repress it.

  “I’m not sure exactly where this place is. I think it’s here,” I held up the notebook and handed it to Ilya. He flipped it open to my dog-eared page and skimmed my writing.

  “Arbutus Mall. Yeah, that’s here. And I think I know the building you mean. It’s a federal environmental research building. We’ve got two options. I could get us in with an illusion tomorrow morning when it’s open, or we could sneak in tonight,” said Ilya.

  “I feel like crap,” said Jonah.

  “I think I’d only need one other person. I know exactly what to look for and where. Well, almost exactly. I’ll find the envelope once I’m in the office. I’m sure,” I said.

  Faith glared at me, but didn’t say anything.

  “Someone should stay behind. I’ll maintain the illusion that the side door is boarded up,” said Ilya.

  “I’ll stay too. If Ivan’s got people out looking for us, they’ll look here first. I should serve as the first line of defense,” said Cole.

  “So it’s just me and Irina?” said Faith.

  “I’ll try it alone. I’m not scared,” I said.

  “That’s not the issue. It’s a bad idea to do something like this alone,” said Ilya. “You guys go together and we’ll stay here with Jonah.”

  “Faith, you can probably short out the building’s alarm. It’s a government office, not high tech military. You’ll be in and out as soon as Irina finds this file,” said Cole.

  “Why don’t you take Princess Premonition and I’ll stay with Jonah,” said Faith.

  “I don’t need a babysitter, you guys. I’m not an invalid yet. I can stay here on my own and scare off anyone who comes in,”

  “No, man, Ilya’s right. An illusion is better than any of us risking a fight with a junkie or a cop. If anyone does the fighting, it should be me. I can rein it in and hit without destroying someone. Faith, a short circuit is better than a broken door. Stop being such a brat and go with Irina,” said Cole.

  Ilya and I looked at each other sharing the sensation of awkwardness. I knew that Ilya knew about me and Jonah. And about Cole and Faith’s own feelings.

  “Fine. Give me your keys,” she said to Cole, and to me, “Are you ready now?”

  “Yup, you bet. Let’s go,” I said nervously.

  Cole handed his car keys to Faith and I followed as she stormed out.

  I followed her down the stairwell and around the block to Cole’s car. I debated whether or not to bring up the situation with Jonah. As we walked up the hill towards Government Street, I mulled over possible conversation starters, some of which included “I didn’t realize you still had feelings for him” and “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” and “Does this mean we can’t stay friends?” when an RCMP officer rounded the corner at the intersection and locked eyes with Faith. She froze and so did I. A hand grabbed my wrist and yanked it behind my back as another hand twisted my free arm backward as well.

  “Irina Proffer, you are under arrest for breaking and entering, and theft over five thousand dollars. Do you understand?”

  The man didn’t wait for me to answer, he kept speaking and I stood in shock as I watched the officer behind Faith do the same thing to her.

  “You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. We will provide you with a toll-free telephone lawyer referral service, if you do not have your own lawyer. Anything you say can be used in court as evidence. Do you understand? Do you want to speak to a lawyer?” he said briskly.

  “No, I don’t understand! Where did I break and . . . oh,” I said.

  “Remember now, do you?” said the cop.

  “This is a mistake. I didn’t steal anything; I work there. Well, I used to work there. The place is shut down now,” I said as the cop forced me along the sidewalk. We back-tracked towards a police sedan Faith and I had passed half a block back. I heard Faith shouting behind us.

  “There’s no mistake. The owner wishes to press charges. And I suggest you stop talking for your own good. We’ll arrange for a lawyer in the morning,” said the cop.

  I took his advice and wracked my brain for what I took that could be worth five thousand dollars. My personal medical file? Could you place a dollar value on that? I couldn’t think of anything else I took. Considering the outrageously worse things Ivan was guilty of, I couldn’t believe I was the one being arrested. Faith was shoved into the other passenger seat in the back of the cop car. Her rage overflowed.

  “Hey, losers! You seriously think we have stolen property? Do you know what our boss is guilty of? You can’t arrest us on the word of a guy who’s been experimenting on people, illegally. And half of them were kidnapped! He’s probably breaking the law right now. Stealing and kidnapping! And fucking god knows what else!” shouted Faith.

  “Young lady, you need to watch your language, or better yet, follow your friend’s lead and keep quiet,” said the cop who had cuffed me.

  While Faith’s cop stood outside speaking to someone on the sidewalk, my cop sat in the front passenger seat making notes. He stared intently at his writing, surveyed the street, checked his pockets; he looked everywhere but at us. I wanted to see the look on his face to see if he would give something away. How had they known where to find us, on the street like that? Could Rubi
n still be alive, listening to us again? Were they fake cops, working for Ivan? I flexed and pulled against the cuffs on my wrists. They felt real. In another moment, the lead cop got in the car and we pulled away from the curb.

  A short drive carried us from Chinatown to the police station. Things kept getting real from there as the cops led us out of the car and through the central office space on the main floor of the building. Faith and I were quickly fingerprinted and moved along to a large room of wall-to-wall concrete. Our cell had a single long wood bench along the inside wall. The sickly pale lime green floor sloped inward on all sides, creating a large funnel towards a grate in the middle of the room. It smelled of urine, body odor, and more than anything, stale vomit. The combined smells nearly made me sick. I felt my gag reflex tug at the back of my throat several times before I became numb to the stink.

  “You’ll stay in custody overnight until you see a judge some time tomorrow. We’ll have lawyers come in to meet you first thing in the morning,” said my cop. Faith’s arresting officer had disappeared after commenting about paperwork. He locked the iron bar door behind him leaving Faith and I alone. She sat down on the bench and I followed her lead.

  “This place is foul! I had no idea jail was so awful,” I said. I felt momentary relief that we had something much more important to talk about than Jonah.

  “Regular jail isn’t that bad. We’re in the drunk tank,” Faith said with firm certainty.

  “How much time have you spent in jail cells?” I asked.

  “Enough. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a drunk tank, I can tell you that,” she said.

  “Have you been in real jail?” I said.

  “You mean a juvenile detention center? That’s what it is when you’re a kid. Well, a teenager. I don’t think they send little kids to jail,” said Faith.