“Here’s something else to think about,” he continued. “There’s only a few shuttleports he could come in on, so I didn’t have to check the world.”
She shrugged again.
“You’re not gonna trust me, are you?”
“Not even a little bit,” she said crisply.
“Tell you what, then,” he said. “You go ahead and don’t trust me, and I’ll go ahead and do my job – which I’m doing because I owe someone a debt of honor. In my family, that means something. That work for you?”
Jaguar relaxed. She pressed the button that retracted her own knife. “It’ll do for now. You got a shuttle pass?”
“A few.”
“Ever been to the Planetoids?”
“Once or twice. Never as a prisoner. And I plan on keeping it that way.”
“Suits me,” she said, “just fine.”
Chapter 16
Home Planet, Barone Estate, Connecticut
Barone heard about the fire in the plant on the news, which called the building an abandoned government facility. It was completely destroyed. The charred remains of three people were found inside. They were believed to be homeless people who camped there. A badly burned woman was found outside. Her identity was still unknown.
When he was done listening to the story, he put in a call to Miriam, who appeared on her end of the telecom looking calm and collected.
“You heard?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Interesting, isn’t it, the way our enemies can work for us when they’re trying their best to do us in.”
“What does that mean?” Larry asked.
“I was just wondering what to do with the old place,” she said, “and how to make sure the workers weren’t indiscreet.”
He felt a twitch in his groin, reminding him of why he’d started working with her on this in the first place. Millions of dollars in loss, and she bypassed all that to move directly to the advantages the situation presented.
“Good save, Miriam,” he said, “Unless – is it possible you arranged the whole thing yourself.”
She laughed lightly. “You do know how to compliment a girl, Larry. Was that your only concern?”
He leaned back in his chair and thought a minute. “How are the plans moving along?”
“All in the pocket, sweetness.”
“What about Dzarny?”
“Him, too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very. And Addams. Poor thing got suspended, you know.”
“So I heard. I hope it sticks.”
“It will.”
He decided to believe her, and move on. He showed her a serious and concerned aspect. “Miriam, I’m worried – not for our plans. For your safety. Listen,” he said, leaning in more closely, “I did something today. For you.”
Her face softened and she lifted a fluttery hand to her collar, adjusting it. “You did? What, dearest?”
“I hired a bodyguard.”
The softness turned to consternation, and looked like moving over into petulance, but Larry kept going. “He’s the best, and I don’t care how much he costs, you’re worth it. He’ll be up there in the next few days.”
“Larry, I don’t really want anyone hanging around – “
“Oh, he’s very discrete. You won’t even know he’s there. He only wants one meeting with you, just to make sure you know what he looks like and so he can find out more about you. Honestly, darling. I think it’s the only way for me to feel secure about you.”
“If you insist,” Miriam said, trying not to sound cold. She had obviously expected diamonds, or a house or maybe a yacht. Or, knowing Miriam, a small country. But she wasn’t fighting it either, and that was good. Larry smiled.
“I do,” he said. “I really really do.”
She leaned away from the screen, and he felt as if he could breathe again, realized he hadn’t been breathing throughout. This was tricky business. “I’ll be on the Planetoid tomorrow, and I know we can’t meet, but if you can sneak away, I’ll be at the Governor ’s Inn on Yonge and Vine.”
“You’re coming to the Planetoid? Is that a good idea?”
“Shafritz requested a meeting. It would seem strange if I refused.”
Miriam shook her head. “Just be careful,” she said. “We’re almost there. And Dzarny is secure, so don’t mess with the program.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Larry said. “Not at all.”
Planetoid Three, Zone 12, Rainforest Eco-site
On the inside of his mind, and within all his vital emotional space, Brendan was one year old and alone. He stared out of the low window near the kitchen table, and waited for something to happen.
Nothing did. Almost wordless, almost without thought, he turned away from the window and went to the refrigerator and tried to open it, but he wasn’t strong enough, so he sat down hard on the kitchen floor.
Alone was what he felt, and to him, and to Alex who felt it with him inside the cocoon of empathic space, alone felt like death. It was blank and void and without meaning. It was big and empty and too much to cry about. But he cried anyway. Usually when he cried his mommy came and helped him. He knew that without words, without reason, without thought. So he cried very loudly.
Nothing happened. The feeling of that was too big for him to handle, and too big for Alex to endure with him. Alone. Alone. Alone.
She’s dead, Alex whispered into him. She’s dead and she won’t come back. It’s not your fault. You’ll have to find someone else to be your mommy.
Whispers moved through him, and Alex moved with them, prepared to go anywhere except here. He didn’t think he could take much more of here. But they went nowhere except into the living room, where nobody lived anymore, where curtains moved in and out of open windows as if someone had lived here once. Brendan toddled over to a small table and picked up a grey crayon. He clutched it in his hand and went to the wall, began making swirls of grey on the wall.
Grey swirls, circles, curves, spirals. Grey filling in the white of the walls. Grey growing on the wall like blood on a rug. It pulsed and spread of its own accord, wrapping Brendan in it, wrapping Alex in it. Wrapping them both in it.
No, Alex said into him. Don’t stop here. Move on. Move on.
This was what he’d wrapped himself in from the start. This piece of his life, static and unchanged at his core. The beginning of Thanatos. The beginning of despair, hidden deep inside him, waiting for a space and time to flower.
Brendan, it’s over. Move on. Move on.
But he couldn’t because the grey was a tombstone he’d laid over life too long ago to even have words to talk about it. A tombstone lodged inside his psyche so deep it would take the whole world dying to satisfy its prerogatives. The whole world.
But not Alex. He wasn’t prepared to go there with him.
Brendan, he suggested. Go to the Mother. Let me hear her.
With the same abrupt stillness of a child who stops running, the grey stopped whirling around them and was still.
Alex saw scenes shift and melt, saw time occur in events following one another swiftly and smoothly. An orphanage. A school. A college. Some girls.
Then an office. Quickly like smoke in mirrors, another office. Then, a white room.
Very white. Windows open. Curtains blowing in and out softly, silently. A woman in the room. He couldn’t see her, but he caught the scent of her and it was familiar. Brendan stood at a white desk in the white room and opened a drawer, took out stones. Grey, smooth stones. He pocketed three, continued to hold one, and when the woman stepped close to him, he accused her with it. Held it up to her and shook it at her. She grabbed his arm and held it tight. Pulled him close and held him. Just held him.
There, there, she said. There, there. It’s all right. Mother is here now. Mother is here.
Deep peace filled him. She guided him to a white couch, where he sat with her and let her hold him, rock him, hold him more. With Brendan’s breath Alex breathed he
r in. With Brendan’s eyes he saw her face.
Miriam Whitehall.
Alex was so shocked he let go of Brendan, snapping the empathic contact with painful sharpness.
Brendan reeled back from his hands and clutched at his head, stumbled left and right and left again.
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Alex said. He put his arms out to keep him from walking into a tree and instead Brendan walked into him, leaned on his shoulder and sobbed.
Alex closed his arms around Brendan’s thin back and held him. “There, there,” he said. “There there. It’s all right now.”
* * * *
They took public transportation to the Zoo and animal sanctuary, on Paquale’s advice. He said it was the last place anyone would think to look for her. She figured he was right. She walked him through the sanctuary, down the long path to the breeding complex, where Marie was waiting to let them in.
Marie took a look at her – a little scraped up on the face and arm, dog-tired and depressed. “When’s the last time you ate food?” she asked, leading them inside.
Jaguar shrugged. “It’s been awhile. Anything new here?”
“All quiet.”
“Anything from Rachel?”
“Nothing new. She’ll be here later.”
“Everyone come out clean?”
“Rachel’s okay. Pinkie’s in hiding. The Animal control people spotted her hair.”
“I told her,” Jaguar said. “What about Gerry?”
“They’re watching him, but they haven’t pulled him yet.”
Jaguar sighed. Not too much damage then. And if they survived this, if they brought it to conclusion, nothing they couldn’t repair.
When they entered the house, walking through the hall and into the kitchen, Pasquale looked around appreciatively.
“Nice place,” he said. “Good kitchen.”
“Marie likes good food,” Jaguar said. “You’ll enjoy it when you get back.”
“Where am I going?” he asked.
“You’ve got a job,” she said. “Find Alex. Now.”
Pasquale smoothed his hair back. “For a woman who’s not paying me, you sure ask for a lot. Besides, I can’t go anywhere until you get me something to track him with.”
Jaguar turned from him, tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lip. “Marie,” she said, “can Rachel get into my place, or Alex’s?”
“Gerry says they’re both being watched.”
“Then Alex’s office. Could she get into that?”
“Sure,” Marie said. “But I don’t know if Galentas’ cleared out Alex’s stuff.”
“They put Galentas in his place? I’m glad I’m suspended then. But even if he cleared his stuff out, he’d have it all stored nice. Anal retentive types have their uses. Call Rachel. Tell her to bring something from his office.”
“What?” Marie asked.
“Something - personal?” she turned her question to Pasquale.
“Personal,” he agreed. “But not like underwear. Something he thinks about whether he wants to or not.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Tell her to look for a little clay figurine of a panther. It’s painted black, and - ” she paused. Naming the objects in his office did something to the inside of her chest. The thought of Galentas occupying it didn’t help, either. “Tell her if she can’t find the panther, look for a clay bowl with a red feather in it. She’ll know. And in case anyone’s listening in, come up with a reason for it, okay?”
Marie made her way to the telecom in the living room, and Pasquale seated himself contentedly at the kitchen table, where two loaves of fresh bread and a jar of homemade jam kept him busy. Marie brought out wine and slices of meat and cheese to go with them, and talked with Pasquale about how to cook game meats like venison, recipes for fresh fish, the secrets of good sauce for pasta. Jaguar sat at the table and ate nothing. While they talked, she waited.
“You should eat something,” Marie said to her.
“Yeah,” Pasquale agreed. “This is very good food.”
“Not hungry,” she replied.
He leaned over and tapped her arm. She gave him her attention. “You wait too hard,” he told her. “Time’s gonna pass whether you’re watching it or not.”
He tore off a chunk of bread and handed it to her. She took it and chewed on the end, then tossed it away.
When Rachel arrived, while Pasquale was making himself a cup of coffee, showing Marie the proportions of water to caffeine that he preferred, she was still waiting hard.
“Hey,” Rachel said, going over to Jaguar. “You okay?”
She waved a hand noncommittally. Rachel shook her head, then looked over toward Marie and Pasquale, at the stove. “Who’s he?” she asked, jerking her head toward him.
“Gerry’s sniffer. Did you find what I asked for?”
Rachel handed over the small panther, and Jaguar took it from her, stroked it lightly. She’d given it to Alex, and it sat on his desk. She smiled at it, like seeing an old friend, and then felt sorrow stab somewhere in the middle of her chest. She was aware of Pasquale’s eye on her, and thought, I will not let him see me upset.
“Don’t touch it too much,” he said quietly. “Here. Let me take it.”
She handed it to him. “Will it work?”
“We’ll see.” He put it down on the table, and turned back to the coffee.
Jaguar felt sorrow turn to rage. “Hey,” she snapped at him.
He turned and stared at her.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’ll go after I have my coffee,” he said.
“How about now?” she asked, being particular to fully articulate each syllable.
“After I have my coffee,” he repeated, with the same articulation. Then he shrugged. “Look, I just got off a shuttle after a somewhat difficult time, and I’ve eaten a good deal of food. If I jump up and go now, my belly’ll be working harder than any other part of me.”
Jaguar receded grudgingly into her chair. Rachel took a seat across from her, reached over the table, grabbed her hand, squeezed it and released it. Rachel was one of the few people who could get away with such a gesture, especially when Jaguar ’s mood was up to feral on the scale between wild and tame.
“We’ll find him,” Rachel said. “It’ll be okay.”
While Pasquale and Marie chatted and drank coffee, Jaguar brooded as plainly as she could, until Pasquale thumped her on the back. “Okay,” he said. “You got your wish. I’m heading out.”
She pushed her chair from the table and stood. “Ready when you are.”
He grinned. “Not a chance, little sister. I’m like you. I work alone.”
She put a hand on her hip and stared at him hard. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” he said.
“What if you find him in a situation you can’t deal with? You know very little of what’s going on here.”
He raised his massive hand and patted her three times on the cheek. “I know everything about what’s going on here.”
She counted to ten silently, closed her eyes and opened them again. “If you ever pat me like that again,” she said softly, “I’ll bite your nuts off.”
His face worked on this for awhile, the massive jaw muscles twisting, the droopy eyes going narrow. Finally his mouth opened in a wide grin. “It’s a deal,” he said.
Jaguar let her back settle. “When will you be back?”
“Depends. I’ll know pretty quick if I can’t pick up a trail. If I can, I’ll keep going until I bring him back.”
She receded into her thoughts. Pasquale gave a neat bow to Marie and Rachel, and exited by the back door.
And they waited.
* * * *
He’s going to kill me, Alex thought, looking at Brendan.
It was a new thought. One that hadn’t occurred to him before. He wondered if Brendan had just decided to do it. Maybe the empathic contact brought up too much for him. Or it was possible Brendan meant to kill him all along,
and Alex just couldn’t see it.
Either way, it was true now. He’d sobbed on Alex’s shoulder for a long time, let himself be held and rocked as if he was a baby, and then, he’d pushed himself away from Alex, walked a few feet beyond him, shuddered once or twice, and fell silent.
When he turned around to look at Alex again, he was smiling, and Alex knew what his intent was. Brendan meant to kill him.
As they prepared for sleep, Alex could read it clearly. He was going to kill him, and - something else. Kill him and use the poison. No. Have Alex confirm the water supply source, then kill him, then use the poison. Miriam’s bottle of death and madness. Apparently, it was time.
“Tired?” Brendan asked him, smiling sweetly.
“Yes,” Alex said. “You?”
He nodded. “We have some busy days ahead.”
“Yes,” Alex agreed. “The Mother told you when, didn’t she?”
He was almost beatific, with the moon pouring light onto his face. “She’ll make it easy for you, at the end,” he promised. “You won’t feel a thing. Won’t even see it coming.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, as he lay down, hands behind his back, and considered the stars.
“But – you’re not going to sleep, are you?””
“No. I’m just – thinking.”
“Yes. Of course. You know what to do? You remember?”
Did he remember? Something he was supposed to do?
Brendan sat up and leaned on one elbow, looking down at Alex. In his hand, he rubbed a stone. Remember? You have to kill her.
Kill her?
Yes. He had to kill her. That was his job, before the Mother killed him. The world was very green here, and the color was all that mattered to him because he could smell it, and it would tell him where to go, what to do, how to do it.
Brendan pressed a stone in his hand.
Kill her. Kill Jaguar with her green eyes, her silky hair, her body like that of any animal, unaware of its own grace, immersed in unselfconscious beauty.
“I’m going to sleep now,” he said, and rolled over.
Alex stared at the stone in his hand, focused his will, tried to throw it away.
It stayed in his hand as the world began to turn many colors that were not attached to any living thing. And it was time for him to leave.
A Lunatic Fear Page 17