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

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In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) Page 24

by Christine Hart


  “Let me introduce you to Mr. Thorn. He is one of my most special friends, and he’s agreed to join us at Innoviro. When the four of you return to work, he’ll take over Rubin’s post as head of security. Ilya, you’ll need to resume your studies as well.”

  “We aren’t going to forget all of this and go back to the way things were, Dad. Mind games like pretending that Irina is related to us won’t distract me.”

  “It’s not just the mind games,” I said. “Ivan, I can’t go back to work like nothing ever happened. Faith and Jonah won’t either.”

  Ivan nodded at Mr. Thorn, who in turn shoved Cole to the ground and walked off in the direction Faith and Jonah had gone. The crack-snap of twigs and brush under his feet faded as Thorn went further into the trees. I refocused my attention on Ivan.

  “This is not a request. Your choices are to cooperate willingly or to be my captive. Any of you cause trouble of this scale again, and I’ll have Mr. Thorn use his claws instead of his webbing.”

  Ilya took a step forward, and then paused. He was at a loss for words and ideas. I stood up and walked towards Ivan myself.

  “If Ilya’s my brother, then that makes you my father.” I looked him squarely in the eye. “Take my hand and prove it.”

  Ivan eyed me up from head to toe, assessing me, deciding. After a moment, he extended his hand and I grabbed it. The road faded away and I stood in a bright fluorescent medical room. I turned around and I saw my mom lying on her side on a hospital bed. A woman in green scrubs held her hand, helping Mom brace against a contraction. A young Ivan stood on the other side of the bed. His expression wasn’t the empathetic concern of a husband. Instead, he had an intent expression as though he willed my mom to give birth.

  Mom screamed again and a second woman in blue scrubs appeared. The two medical women helped my mom change positions and within moments, she pushed hard. The woman in blue obscured my view, but a primal infant wail rang out over Mom’s deep grunting. The woman in the green scrubs took the child off to a table a few feet away while the blue woman continued to coach Mom through another big push.

  The woman in green scrubs returned with a swaddled infant and handed it to my father. He let go of Mom’s other hand and accepted the child. Both women kept talking at my mom, all their attention on her movements and her body. Ivan slipped away with the child while Mom gave birth again. Another man entered the room after Ivan left–Rubin! He wore the same seafoam green scrubs as the rest of the nurses. His hair was brushed into a relatively tidy ponytail, but I’d recognize that asshole anywhere.

  I let go of Ivan’s hand and I slid immediately back onto the wet island road under the moonlight. “It’s true. He kidnapped you a few minutes after you were born. And Rubin was there to wipe everyone’s memories of you,” I said to Ilya, turning my back on our father.

  “So now that we’ve dispensed with the formalities, let’s get off this road before I have to send Mr. Thorn after some unfortunate civilian witness,” said Ivan.

  Ilya shot me a meaningful look and I turned back towards Ivan. I saw Vincent’s denim shirt creeping along the bottom of the ditch beside us, below the overgrown brambles. He was almost parallel with Ivan’s feet. I looked back at Ilya and saw Thorn approaching with Faith bound in more silky thread.

  “Do you want me to go back for the water-boy?” Thorn asked in a horrible raspy voice.

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. Thorn. He’s not going to be of much use, but I can’t have him running around telling stories and causing trouble.”

  Thorn pushed the back of Faith’s calf with one of his feet and she fell to the ground in a clumsy collapse. Vincent stayed hidden a few paces away in the ditch

  “Okay, we’ll come back to you. But, if you want our full commitment again, we need the big picture. Remember what I said in the alley, Ivan, after you showed me the catacombs? I still believe this work has to be done, for us, variants, but there’s obviously more going on here. Trust us. Tell us what you’re really working on.”

  “Dad, I know you wouldn’t do this if you didn’t have a good reason. Irina’s right, you can trust us,” said Ilya.

  “Speak for yourselves, you soulless sheep! Fuck you, Ivan!”

  “Don’t listen to her, Ivan. We want to help,” I said.

  “Bitch!” Faith yelled at me.

  I looked over at her face and saw eyes brimming with venomous hate. “Shut your mouth.”

  “All right, you deserve a small taste of what’s coming,” said Ivan.

  I took a few steps forward, obscuring Ivan’s view of Cole and Faith.

  “I’m gathering variants, here and around the world. Big changes are coming for this planet. Can’t you feel it? Humanity treats this world like a giant waste-bin. We deserve to take it, make it in our own image, tailor the very ground we walk on and the air we breathe solely for our mutations, and start over without them. Any one of you is worth sacrificing for that,” Ivan said, looking from me over to Ilya and back.

  “Even if you can control our genes, you can’t control the earth. You can’t change geography or the weather,” I said.

  “Can’t I? The process has already begun! There’s enough greed and stupidity on this planet to reform the entire thing. Global warming isn’t happening fast enough. You’d be surprised what a few ocean currents and earthquakes can accomplish, once enough ecosystems have been ruined, Irina.”

  “You can’t possibly be serious, Dad. The science doesn’t exist, not even for Innoviro,” said Ilya, disbelief in his voice and an expression of disgust on his face.

  “How soon?” I quickly added, “How soon can you make it happen?” I tried to sound eager. Ivan’s eyes narrowed and he assessed me for a moment. His gaze shifted quickly to my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cole sprinting forward.

  One swoop of Ivan’s arm and the pavement underneath Cole cracked and curled up off the ground like a rind. Ivan twirled his wrist and the peel of pavement wrapped around Cole like a blanket. The roll of asphalt flew higher, up over the roadside brambles and shrubs in an arc that reached the marina in the distance. Still encased in pavement, Cole crashed through the roof of a floating wood boat garage.

  I turned around as Vincent spit on the back of Faith’s bonds. The sticky silk ropes dissolved with a hiss. Ivan’s outstretched arm came to rest facing Faith and Vincent.

  “I can’t move! What is this? What are you DOING to us?” screamed Faith.

  “I’m done with lectures for the evening.” Ivan called out, “Mr. Thorn! Leave the boy. It’s time to go!”

  He turned to say something to Ilya and me. The air went cold and a surge of sea water knocked Ivan to the ground. Like the stream of a fire hose, the water sent him tumbling. The stream came all the way from the shore and underneath it stood Jonah. His face bore the pained look of a man fiercely concentrating, using every ounce of his strength.

  “Look out!” shouted Ilya.

  Thorn raced down the road back towards us, shooting silken darts in our direction from the back of his mouth. With each breath, his mouth opened unnaturally wide and a muscular ripple in his throat released each repulsive bolt. They missed us, flying high and wide as Thorn ran.

  A glint in Faith’s eye was all it took. She held a fireball in her hands. She pitched it at Thorn, pushing a continuous stream of rage-fueled fire behind it. The molten orb hit him with an explosive flash. He screamed, instantly meeting the same fate as Hugo. I shuddered as his blackened form fell sideways onto the concrete.

  The water dousing Ivan receded. Jonah collapsed out of exhaustion. Faith ran to his side. I looked over at Vincent. He wasn’t moving. I heard Cole’s thunderous footfalls crashing through the brush getting louder with every bound.

  Ilya walked slowly towards Ivan as I ran to Vincent. I immediately saw one of Thorn’s threaded darts lodged in Vincent
’s neck as he struggled to breathe.

  “AAAARRRGH!” Cole yelled as something crashed into him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cole deflect a large boulder and charge Ivan. I kept my attention on Vincent.

  “Are you okay? No, stupid question, of course you’re not!” Camille was long gone as far as I knew and I struggled to think of some other solution. I stood uselessly wringing my hands, and then reached out to touch him. If nothing else, I could stay with him.

  “Do you want me to pull it out?” I asked.

  Vincent tried to answer. He convulsed and I saw that the bolt went straight through, out the back of his neck. I could do nothing but comfort him.

  “I’m right here,” I said shakily. I grabbed his hand, holding firmly. As I looked in his eyes to reassure him, his life faded away. I held on for a moment, filled with remorse and panic. Then I sensed Ilya at my back.

  “They wouldn’t return his daughter until he reported back on our plans. Without Rubin, Ivan became frantic and kidnapped the girl. It wasn’t Ivan and Thorn waiting for Vincent in his apartment; it was his ex-wife with Ivan’s ultimatum. Vincent never wanted to give us up to my father. He thought that right at me before he charged to our rescue,” Ilya said.

  “He had a family. What are we going to say to them?” I said.

  “We’ll have to figure that out later. As it is, they’ll have some idea.” Cole had Ivan’s limp body crushed firmly in his arms. Ivan looked so pitiful like that, crumpled and unconscious.

  Ilya knelt on the ground next to Ivan. Disgust and agony twisted Ilya’s face. He reached out and took his father’s hand. Ivan remained motionless. I’m so sorry Ilya. I wish this had ended differently.

  “Are you going to kill him?” I said.

  Cole looked at me, then Ilya, then down at Ivan again. “He's as good as dead already. I’m going to leave him on the side of the road like garbage. That’s how he treated variants. He doesn’t deserve any better himself.”

  Ilya released Ivan’s hand and stood, giving Cole a nod and turning his back on all of us. Cole flung Ivan’s body into the ditch like an apple core.

  Jonah and Faith walked towards us, the former leaning heavily on the latter.

  “So, are we still going to Vancouver?” Jonah had regained some energy.

  “I say we finish what we started. We know he had partners. And from the sounds of his insane little rant there, he has a lot worse than human testing on his social calendar,” said Faith.

  “We’re still definitely unemployed.” Ilya laughed awkwardly and looked back towards the ditch where Ivan lay.

  I glanced around at the scene. Miraculously, Cole’s car remained parked on the side of the road, untouched but from the spray of ocean water that left droplets as though it had just rained.

  “Should we bury Vincent? He deserves whatever dignity we can give him, but his family needs to know he’s not coming home,” I said.

  “I’ll find somewhere to lay him to rest where he’ll still be found quickly,” said Cole. “Go back along the highway and get some supplies. Seven Eleven will open soon. I’ll be waiting on the side of the road when you get back.”

  Cole tossed his car keys to Ilya. Faith helped Jonah into the back seat and I opened the front passenger door. I looked over as Cole scooped Vincent into his arms and walked back into the trees.

  “Do you think Ivan is dead?” I said to Ilya, over the roof of the car.

  “I do. His mind went dark,” said Ilya.

  “I’m so sorry. I know you hoped he had his reasons. I don't think anyone wanted to see it end this way,” I said.

  “He’s not my father anymore. I still don’t understand what steered him down that path, but he’s dead to me now either way.” Ilya sat down behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.

  “Look at it this way - you lost a father, but you gained a sister,” I said. The information hadn’t really sunk in until that moment when Ilya looked back at me. I saw myself in his eyes and felt the truth of our bond.

  We stocked up on the limited sort of groceries found at a convenience store and headed back to the ferry, after picking up Cole. The glow of sunrise warmed the horizon when we pulled into one of the ferry ticket gates. We paid the fare and Ilya drove into one of a dozen lanes of parked traffic.

  “Ready to get the hell out of Dodge?” Ilya said to the rest of us.

  “You bet your ass,” said Faith.

  Jonah nodded and I smiled.

  “Right then!” said Ilya as he pulled into an empty spot. “The only thing we have to do now is ‘hurry up and wait’ for the boat.”

  Epilogue

  Sometimes, I look at the world and it seems perfect–like a toy play-set or a vibrant watercolor painting. Other times, I find myself examining the streets I wander, dwelling on all the ragged edges, scraps of trash, dingy surfaces, cracks, holes, and dents. When the world looks like it’s falling apart, every house and office and storefront appears more like the crappy cardboard and homemade plastic props I used to make for my Barbie dolls.

  As a kid, I’d sometimes preferred that worn and faded view of the world because it helped me to relax and stop trying to acquire and conquer. On the days where I felt neglected and forgotten, the raw side of things only made me despondent that my life would never get better and no amount of patience or hard work was worthwhile.

  Here in the Bella Maria Hotel–a dingy single room occupancy dive in Vancouver–it’s not a contest between shiny and dull, treasure and trash. I look out the window of my room and I see a street full of suffering with glitz and privilege along the skyline. Ivan had been right. This fragile imbalance is nearing its tipping point.

  I’d spent my first few days in Vancouver frequenting an Internet cafe with my laptop. I searched for my name. I searched for Gemma and had no trouble finding her achievements–the most recent being a win with the UBC girls’ volleyball team. And then I found an obituary for Tabitha and Darryl Proffer. It confirmed the worst. They were survived by their only daughter, Gemma Proffer.

  As if reading an obituary for my parents wasn’t bad enough, I decided I needed the print version of the paper. I wanted a hard copy of that photograph of my parents standing in front of our PG house. I’d thought it would make me feel better. What happened when I touched the photo destroyed me all over again.

  After convincing the Prince George Observer to send a copy of that issue to a random girl at the Bella Maria, I wasted no time in clipping the only square of paper that mattered to me. I held it in my hands and my room disappeared. I stood in Ivan’s office. Rubin leaned against the doorjamb while Ivan sat at his desk.

  “Start with the parents. Wipe them both and incapacitate the mother. She’s got latent variant DNA that might result in memory recovery. Kill her if needed. The stepdad doesn’t matter,” said Ivan.

  “I’ll let you know when it’s time for Brad to step in on the tech side. Make sure he’s got all his research done before tomorrow. It won’t be my fault if he leaves any loose ends,” said Rubin.

  I dropped the newsprint and snapped back to my dingy room in the Bella Maria. Back on my bed, shaking, I felt a surge of rage in my guts. I balled up my fists. I punched the wall ahead and yelled. I took a few deep breaths and picked up the photograph using a take-out sushi menu so as not to touch the image directly. I couldn’t risk seeing more of my parents. I needed my anger to stay fresh and not slip back into depression.

  So my bleak world is made of grease-streaked glass, balancing on a house of cards, and I’m trying desperately to think of a way to unravel Ivan’s plan to turn his proverbial leaf-blower onto the whole world. And avenging my parents has to happen at some point. Yet we have no way of knowing how complex his work had become or how far Innoviro had gotten. We must assume that many of his destructive projects are still operational, like multipl
e motors inside a sophisticated machine. Uncover his plans. End his life. Simple, right?

  It feels like Ivan’s plot is a force of nature and my friends and I are waving our hands uselessly against a hurricane. But we have to do it. With Jonah, Cole, Ilya, and Faith, I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, to find a cure for Jonah if possible while we track down every geological event, every fountain of pollution, and every new mutated genetic strain Ivan planned to unleash on the world.

  All we can do now is start by finding this book. The Compendium Transmuto.

 

 

 


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