Shadows in the House With Twelve Rooms

by J. Price Higgins

  She replaced the file then strode to the window and leaned her head against the pane. Bianca didn't lie, Ellery thought, recalling her protégé's confident presentation. She'd stake her reputation on that. She stared into the quiet beauty of Concentration Point. Whirling in a maelstrom of thoughts, one question kept racing to the front. Where were the experiments being performed? Maybe she could find something there. She focused on the old willow tree. Her gaze followed each drooping bough to the ground; traveled round and round the evenly-clipped branches.

  "Where, dammit? Where?"

  Ellery stared at the tree. Her eyes narrowed. Maintenance! She reached for the telephone on her desk. If there was a hidden laboratory anywhere on this island, Charles Lakeland could tell her where. As the dial tone bleeped, she remembered Leann's message with its tag of urgent. She looked at her watch. I better call Matthew first. Charles will always be there to answer my question. She dialed her home number.

  Ellery listened to the nonstop barrage that began the moment her son heard her voice; the BH gene had relinquished its secret. Her face grew pale. "Are you certain about this, Matthew? Are you absolutely positive about what you're telling me?"

  She looked up at the security monitor while she listened. Leann and Bianca were coming down the hall. "Matthew, I have a serious situation to handle right now, but it won't take long. The tour has been postponed until tomorrow morning so as soon as I'm finished, I'll come right home. You can go into details then. Love you."

  She punched down the button then dialed again, her gaze resting on the chair across from her desk. Bianca liked to sit close and always leaned over the desk when she thought her listener was on the verge of being convinced. There might be a way to take advantage of that fact. In thoughtful silence, Ellery listened to the line ringing in her ear.

  Peremptory termination was out of the question.

  But Bianca wouldn't know that.

  This scientist wouldn't risk termination. Expulsion from Tartarus would be tantamount to loss of career; no legitimate lab would ever accept her and Bianca's obsessive need to be recognized as an authority on genetics could never tolerate that. Perhaps she could force that need into tendering a career-saving resignation.

  "Pelican. Captain Harmon speaking."

  "Jack, Doctor Jensen here. Please put the launch on ready. I'll be leaving within thirty minutes."

  "Yes, Ma'am. We will be ready."

  She hung up. Walking around her desk, she pulled the large chair back a few inches and carefully smoothed away the pressure marks.

  A soft chime sounded. Bianca and Leann had reached the outer door. Returning to her seat, Ellery cast an appraising look at the chair.

  Perfect.

  She turned off the corridor screen then pressed the button on the underside of her desk. "One way or another, your days at Tartarus are finished, my friend," she whispered to herself. A tinge of sadness shadowed her face. My friend. You could have been that, she thought. I would have coaxed your genius to heights you'd never dream existed. But not now. "There is no room for dishonor at Tartarus," she said to the quiet room. "Too much can be lost. Too much can be destroyed."

  Ellery stood as the inner door opened. A tingle of fear raced through her body when she looked into familiar black eyes. This time, the manic ferocity hiding in their depths was clear and unmistakable.

  "Sit down, Bianca," Ellery said as her assistant placed typed pages on her desk. "Are there two copies here, Leann?"

  "Yes, Ma'am." The young woman paused at the open door. "I'll hold your calls until you advise me otherwise, Doctor Jensen." She pulled the door closed as she left.

  Ellery leaned back in her chair, holding Bianca’s defiant gaze without a word. At last, the geneticist lowered her chin and stared at her lap.

  "I can explain, Doctor Jensen," she said. "It's not what you think." Her voice shook.

  Ellery watched Bianca's hands and the way her shoulders sloped. Narcissistic aplomb, their language said. She waited.

  Still looking down, Bianca continued. "I was on my way to Leann when you stopped me. I wanted you to be the first one to know that I'd succeeded, that all those hours you spent answering my silly questions weren't wasted. But then that Raphael Munoz—His Holiness—started prodding." She looked up. "He seemed to know, Doctor Jensen. I thought . . . I thought someone had found my journals, made copies, and sent them to him. I thought that was why he was here." She looked back down. "I wanted everyone in that room to know the project was not a horror show, that transformations could be a good thing," she whispered.

  "Who did you think that might have been, Bianca? Who, in this organization, did you think would steal your notes and give them to a man like the Pope? A man who would have no use for them?" Ellery said.

  Bianca sniffed. "I don't know. Doctor Xephram, maybe. He was always popping into my lab on one pretext or another. Mostly he'd just look around, but then he started quizzing me about my work. I finally told him to stay away from me and stay away from my lab." She looked up, eyes brimming. "Then, the day before you fired him, he stopped me outside of my cottage, ranting and raving like a madman. He even accused me of stealing two of his primates! He swore he'd get even and stormed away, muttering about his Pope and God's wrath and stuff."

  "That was six months ago. Why didn't you come to me when all of this was going on?"

  "I was going to, but Doctor Xephram left the island and it no longer mattered. Until this morning when . . . when . . ." Bianca looked up and a tear straggled down her cheek. "I wanted you to be proud of me."

  Ellery stared at the woman's face. Could she be telling the truth? Had this entire fiasco come out of natural excitement, poor judgment, and lack of experience in release protocol? Xephram had delved into forbidden areas and Lord knows he was more than just bitter when she sent him packing. He may have pulled a stunt like that in retaliation, hoping to bring about the shutdown of the Foundation. What about her own culpability?

  Her stomach knotted. From the beginning, there had been questions—many questions: gene switching, micro-insertion, vector deliveries, and on and on. At the time, she heard only the eagerness of genius untried, had answered in great detail, going far beyond what the question required. If only she had known what lay behind those interrogations.

  You did know—she told you the day you hired her.

  Ellery reeled at the thought. Her mind flashed back to that day, to the question she had asked and the answer she had received.

  Dear God. It was true. What if her answers had made the cardinal rule null and void in Bianca's mind? Surely not. During each question and answer session, she had always made sure that Bianca understood the difference between what was and was not acceptable Tartarus practice. Even so, such admonitions would mean nothing if the woman thought she was exempt. Ellery sighed. Suppositions had their place, but they didn’t provide answers. She knew what would.

  She opened the side drawer of her desk, pulled out a handful of tissues, walked around to Bianca's chair and patted her on the shoulder. Her sensitive fingers detected no tension. Her jaw tightened. The woman was too relaxed for innocence judged guilty. She would proceed as planned.

  "Now, now," she said, stuffing the tissues into Bianca's hands. "Perhaps I acted a little hastily. I apologize for that." Her hand, still patting the hunched shoulders, felt a tremor of victory course beneath her fingers.

  She stepped to her desk and picked up the typed pages. "Let's see what we have here." She handed a set of pages to Bianca and returned to her chair. As she read through the notes, she could feel the geneticist watching her.

  Despite her inward seething, Ellery was impressed. She looked up now and then to ask a question. Bianca grew more excited, more expansive as she answered. The director knew the signals.

  One more question and Bianca would tilt forward, would realize the chair had been moved back and that her boss had not been fooled by her performance. Maybe, just maybe, that understanding would take her and her research to a
lab more tolerant of her methods. Ellery reached the next to last page; she opened her mouth, a question forming on her lips. Bianca’s head moved forward ever so slightly.

  Even as the question formed, Ellery realized her mistake. Detailed recaps would not wind up this report. If Bianca thought dismissal was imminent, she was far too intelligent to summarily hand over detailed analyses of research that violated Tartarus ethics. Ellery nearly choked. Without those summaries, there was no proof and her protégé would know that. No wonder she was so calm.

  There would be no resignation. Unless . . .

  Getting up from her chair, Ellery casually walked around her desk and perched on its edge. She stretched her legs in front of her, her feet almost touching those of the woman waiting so expectantly.

  "It has potential, Bianca, and if—" She frowned, looked back at the prior page. "I seem to be missing the definitives on the individual research trials. Did Leann staple my pages to your copy?"

  Bianca flipped to her last page. Her eyes rounded. She pulled the pages backward as if she expected to find the missing information hidden between the lines. Her brows puckered. "Mine aren't here either. I was sure I gave everything to Leann. I just can’t believe . . . they must still be in my lab, Ellery. Or maybe I left them in the conference room. I’ll have to look. Don’t worry,though—I’ll find them." She stood and looking down at the Foundation's director, said, "Why don't you come with me? I should think it would go faster with two of us searching."

  Dumbfounded by the statement, Ellery struggled to keep her surprise from showing. Her one real hope was to convince this clever geneticist that turning over the documents would carry no penalty; that would never happen if she accepted the seemingly offhand offer. A dual search would turn up nothing. Bianca didn't want help, she wanted to know if her charade had passed for truth. The woman had outfoxed her. Again.

  "I wish I could help. Unfortunately, I have a situation at home to attend to." Ellery tapped the pages with her finger. "I'm excited about this, Bianca, but I'll need to see those results before we can decide if it's worth pursuing any further. Once you've located them, just give them to Leann for scanning. We'll go over them tomorrow." She was taking a chance letting Bianca go alone, but it was the only chance she had of getting those summaries.

  "Yes, Doctor Jensen."

  As soon as the woman left the room, Ellery switched on the corridor screen, her gaze fixed on the display. Bianca stood for several seconds in front of the closed outer door, bobbing her typed pages against the palm of her hand. With one final slap, she strode down the hall.

  "Had to think about it for a minute didn't you, Doctor Raborman?" Ellery spoke softly. "Had to decide if you should risk bringing those pages or if you should tell me to go to hell, didn't you?" She smiled. "Vanity and pride. A sorry combination, Bianca. Those two will suck intelligence dry."

  The scientist had nearly reached Leann's desk. Ellery tapped a sensor pad; her assistant answered the intercom immediately. As she'd expected, Bianca stopped to listen.

  "Leann, it appears Doctor Raborman has made a substantial breakthrough in her research. She's on her way to her lab now to get additional notes for scanning. Please make two copies."

  "Yes, Doctor Jensen. Do you want them tonight?"

  "No, I've made another commitment and I'm running late. Tomorrow will be fine."

  A wide grin creased Bianca's face. Lips pursed into a whistle, she continued down the corridor that led to Lab One. Ellery heaved a lung-full of air. The scales had tipped, Bianca was convinced.

  The director leaned back in her chair, her fingers tented beneath her chin. At last, she leaned forward, and picked up the phone again. On the second ring, a deep male voice answered.

  "Maintenance."

  "Charles. Just the person I want to speak with. I need some construction records."

  "Sure, Ellery. In your office?"

  Charles Lakeland had worked under her directorship of Tartarus for twenty years and he could name any construction modification that had ever taken place during those twenty years. Having been on a trusted first name basis for the past fifteen years, he would know by her answer if she required discreet action.

  "No. At the launch. Five minutes."

  "Whose?" She heard the alertness.

  "Bianca Raborman's." She held her breath.

  "Five minutes, Ellery. At the launch."

  Ellery slowly let her breath escape. Construction records were on file. Hope flared. She had her answer to where. No one would see Charles bring the records. There would be no gossip to alert Bianca. Ellery gathered her purse and coat then quietly closed her office door behind her. Matthew would have to wait a little longer. She had a secret lab to check out. She paused at the outer door. Where was her thinking—Charles could tell her where and she'd meet him there. She unlocked the office door, hurried to her desk, and dialed his office. No answer. Damn, he'd already left for the dock. Well, no matter. They'd just have to go back. She wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away from her.

  Ellery tapped her foot as she waited. She looked at her watch. He said five minutes and she'd been waiting nearly fifteen already—what was taking him so long? She turned her attention back to the stairs, relieved to see him running down the steps toward her. As soon as he reached her side, he handed over a reduced copy of Bianca's lab layout.

  "Thanks, Charles. I appreciate this."

  "Your welcome. Sorry I'm late. Doctor Raborman caught me just as I was leaving my office. The panel lock had jammed on the secondary and she needed help getting it open. Said she had to find something you wanted—a journal or missing notes or something. She had the darn thing open by the time I got there, but insisted I check the lock anyway."

  Ellery’s heart pounded at his words. There was a second lab and it was on Tartarus. Trying to stay calm, she studied the drawing. Elation turned sour. Something was wrong. She pointed to shaded areas. "I’m confused. According to this, Bianca has reclaimed the use of that dead space at the rear of her laboratory. When I was in her lab this morning, that area was still walled off. You completed all of this today?"

  He chuckled. "We’re good, Ellery, but we don’t do miracles. No, that little modification ate up four days. We probably could have got away with two except she insisted on having an illusion panel installed rather than a standard door. We did a good job, don’t you think?"

  "Better than good, Charles. It fooled me! Question, though. Where was I when all of this was going on?"

  "Washington. Testifying on behalf of the NIH as I recall."

  "Good heavens. That was a year ago."

  "Closer to eighteen months, Ellery. Time scoots right along when your busy. Is there a problem? Anything I can help with?"

  She stuffed the document into her pocket. "I hope not and maybe, in that order. Since you’ve just come from there, what does she have in that secondary—besides her primates?"

  "Not even that. The monkeys are out front. All I saw in that back room was a couple of empty cages, two oversized oxygen tanks, and a cabinet full of bottles. In fact, it doesn't look as if she uses it much."

  "Is Bianca still there?"

  "Yeah. She was busy going through file cabinets when I left." He grinned. "Whatever she's looking for must be important. She's got folders strewn everywhere. I bet it'll take her half the night to get it all back in order."

  "Probably." She patted her pocket. "Thanks again."

  Charles nodded, "Anytime. See you tomorrow." He sprinted toward the stairs.

  Dejected, Ellery watched until he disappeared from view. By ensuring that a credible witness—and who better than Charles Lakeland—saw nothing but a pristine work place, Bianca had covered all the bases. Never had she felt so defeated.

  She stepped on board the Pelican and made her way to the bridge. "Take me home, Jack," she said. "I'm tired." She felt cold inside, a soul-deep, blistering kind of cold. Tomorrow, she would get Bianca's result summaries, but they wouldn't be what she wanted to
see. Of that, she had no doubts.

  She had a long fight ahead of her and of all the men in that conference room, only one might be willing to listen.

  Pope Raphael Munoz.

  Chapter 13

  Munoz

  Munoz leaned back in his chair. Cool and detached, he studied the nine men around the conference table. He had come to this island prepared to offer the Transnationals a modicum of relief in the matter of the power grid and then be on his way, but Bianca Raborman's startling announcement changed all that. Tartarus was no longer, in his eyes, a reputable though dull research facility—it was a profit center and more. If he would bring to fruition his plan for world domination, he had issues to resolve, cell icing being primary. Overcoming that problem required someone with skill, ambition, and a touch of larceny. Doctor Raborman fit the bill nicely. He turned his attention to the man on his left.

  "The Church appreciates the dilemma, Ambassador Yago. However, $350 million is a lot of money with nothing but the word of a nearly bankrupt country for collateral."

  "The loans have been called, Your Holiness." Thomas Yago waved his hand around the table. "These gentlemen have given me their assurance that once the power grids are installed the notes held by The United Americas will be paid off within twelve months. It is in everyone's best interest to help them achieve their goal, help them improve their countries and make them self-sufficient." The others nodded agreement. "Your loan to our government would be repaid, with interest, as soon as their debts to us are satisfied."

  "Those lands not represented here—they would come into the loop?"

  "Eventually. On a discretionary basis, of course."

  Leaning forward, Munoz tapped a manicured nail against the table top. "That presents a problem. Do you actually believe the Eastern Bloc or The Triune will allow the United Americas to install—and control—the grids without a fight? Once you have the grid, you have an unlimited power source. Power even the poorest of your people can use. Such a resource means rapid progress in many areas—agriculture, technology, science, and education to name a few."