by RJ Corgan
“Seriously?” Julie rounded on Amirah. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Amirah ignored her, her intense gaze focused instead on Kea. “You found it up there, didn’t you?”
“Found what?” Julie implored.
Kea nodded.
“Well then,” Amirah sighed. “There we are.”
“Are what?” This time it was Marcus who bellowed at the woman.
“I’m afraid that I’m bound by a nondisclosure agreement,” Amirah said simply.
Despite the profanity that followed as Marcus and Julie vented their frustration, Kea kept quiet, thinking. Finally, she lied. Slightly. “Fernando told me everything.”
“Did he now?” Amirah shrugged. “Well, since the police are on their way… still, I can neither confirm nor deny.”
Kea raised an eyebrow.
“I’m this close to braining you right now,” Julie, always more proactive than Kea, had unclipped the mini fire extinguisher from beneath her seat and brandished it above Amirah’s head. “After two bodies, what’s one more?”
“Three,” Kea corrected sadly. “Three bodies.”
Amirah sighed. “When the first prototype crashed, T3, and by that, I mean Max, tried to pin the blame on our team, citing a hardware defect.”
“Slimy,” Julie commented.
“Indeed,” Amirah agreed. “We did our own investigation and discovered that there was a bug in the navigation software, or so we thought at the time. It was also revealed that T3 had been behind on their deliverables but had fudged the numbers to hide it. Once we found out, Max blamed Bruce, slashed his salary, and threatened to cut him out of any bonuses unless the next launch was successful.”
Catching Kea’s questioning look, Amirah added. “Bruce and I did exchange some… information, occasionally. In Max, we had a common enemy.”
Kea nodded, but Julie still looked lost.
“The two companies were working on a new kind of drone,” Kea explained, suddenly more tired than she could remember. “Bruce and Andrea, a co-worker, had planned to sell it, and another one, I think. They’d already set up another company and were planning on a getting a new start with the money, except Fernando caught on…” Sitting out there in the mud, she had a long time to think, to put together the puzzle. “I guess since he was the IT security guru, he could see every communication they sent.”
“So, they crashed it on the ice,” Julie reasoned slowly, “to sell it on the black market.”
“But Fernando altered the coordinates of the crash,” Kea said, remembering his words before the flood. “Knowing that Bruce was feeding Max a story that it was gone all together but knowing it had landed somewhere else.”
“When we got wind of T3 ‘volunteering’ here,” Amirah added, “we realized the crash data had been altered, much like everything else. Max told us that one drone had crashed in the North Sea, the other in the Alps, both irretrievably.”
“Do you think Max knew what Fernando was up to?” Julie tried again.
“I thought so,” Kea said, “until Lexie showed up. Maybe Fernando was trying to go into business for himself, now that T3 is essentially wrecked. Or maybe they’re both working for him. Or someone else?” She eyed Amirah, wondering what the quiet, scarf-obsessed woman knew. “I guess we may never really know.”
“Tony…” Julie trailed off, seemingly having trouble processing what had happened.
Kea tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders, luxuriating in its warmth. Either the terrible coffee or her brief nap in the rain had given her a tiny burst of energy. Her thoughts were a little clearer. “Does anyone else at camp know anything about what happened to me?”
“Not really,” Julie considered. “Only that you guys hadn’t come back yet. Why?”
“Nothing,” Kea said slowly, “I was just using my little gray cells…”
***
Kea sat in the main tent, considering Max across a mug of hot cocoa. She had asked Marcus and Julie to keep the others outside to give her some time alone with him. In the end, she knew whatever it was, he would get away with it. Most likely, she would never speak to him again. Would never know.
Not unless she looked him in the eyes.
Max sat opposite, his arms folded across his chest, his breathing low and measured. Air whistled out of his nostrils, but he remained otherwise silent. With her good hand, she idly drew a figure on a blank sheet of paper. The pencil scratched on the paper, the loudest sound in the tent. Outside, the rain had stopped. Somewhere over the sandur, the rescue helicopters were whirling, hopefully rescuing Jon near the coordinates she provided.
Kea turned the paper around so Max could see it. She had drawn an image of an ant sitting atop a blade of grass, the same as his tattoo, with the words Dicrocoelium dendriticum written beneath.
Max’s eyes narrowed, but he gave no other sign of recognition.
“Let’s say for a moment,” Kea said slowly. “Just for the sake of argument, that I had the chip.”
“Sorry?” Wide-eyed and smiling, Max gave nothing away.
Either Max was genuinely clueless, she observed, or an excellent liar.
“Let’s say I had the chip,” Kea repeated, recalling Lexie’s words. “For a moment, let’s pretend that I have it in my pocket. How much, hypothetically, would that be worth to you?”
Max tilted his head, looking askance.
“None of this falls under my area of expertise,” Kea admitted. “But I’m fairly certain that flying a drone into Icelandic airspace probably violates all sorts of rules, not to mention that it’s a drone that jams communications. Or that it’s one that can capture and alter any communication that passes through it.”
Still, Max said nothing. He seemed impatient. His eyes darted to the tent’s entrance, as if suspecting someone to walk in at any moment.
“But I think it’s more than that.” Kea traced the outline of the ant with the pencil. “I think your team designed the system to act like a parasite that can infect and control other communication drones, just like the lancet. It infiltrates the other fleets up there in the sky, the Face-Googles. It pretends to be them, feeds you all the information you need. And whenever you like, you can control them. Or take them out altogether. Maybe even alter the data being transmitted back…”
She studied Max, looking for any sign of admission or denial. Ice-blue eyes stared back. His lashes were jet black, but his eyebrows were already flecked with gray.
“But does it actually work, I wonder?” Kea attempted to scrutinize a man who specialized in being inscrutable. “Or did you botch this last launch of drones like you did the prototype? Did you know Bruce was going to crash it and try to sell the components?” He said nothing, and Kea found herself firing off more questions, more theories. “Were you planning to sell it yourself? Or was Fernando working with someone else altogether? Who is pulling the strings, I wonder? Did you really succeed?”
No response.
It was like talking to a refrigerator. One that didn’t even have the decency to hum.
“Of course,” she continued, “I imagine your company could claim that Fernando crashed the drone here as an act of industrial espionage. That he was working for another party, so that none of it was your fault. Insured, I suppose. Still,” she added, using her best scolding professorial voice. “the reputation of crashing multiple drones could ruin your company. Plus, you haven’t been able to get your hands on the hardware to make a considerable profit. It makes me wonder again, how much is this chip worth to you?”
“Hypothetically?” Max answered at last.
“Hypothetically,” Kea nodded.
“One chip alone, for a device that you speak of, for the materials and programming,” Max said, choosing his words carefully. “For a technology like that and for the information that could be on it, would be worth around ten million.”
Kea blinked. Twice.
“Hypothetically, of course,” Max replied quietly. “If it even
works.”
“Hypothetically,” Kea echoed. She lifted her hands and extended her arms. “Because, as you can see, I have nothing in my pockets.”
Max smiled beatifically, showing off his perfectly bleached-white teeth.
It gave her the chills.
“That’s a shame.” Max rose from the bench to leave.
“It is possible,” Kea continued, causing him to pause, “that Fernando was acting alone, had another buyer. Someone unknown. However, it’s also possible that he was acting under your orders. It’s also possible that you threatened Tiko to make a false statement to the police against her will about Bruce committing suicide.”
Max wisely said nothing.
It was as if, Kea thought, that he knows I have Julie’s cell phone taped under the table recording every word.
Chapter 20
After being questioned by the police, Kea filled Julie and Marcus in on her conversation with Max, or rather the lack thereof. As she talked, Marcus poured out measures of whiskey for each of them into plastic mugs.
“Any sign of Lexie?” Kea asked before downing the shot.
Marcus shook his head. “The inspector said they haven’t had any word. I can’t imagine she’ll make it off the island.”
“What about Jon?” Kea asked, fearing the worst.
“Nothing yet.” Julie had just returned from the hive of police activity that infested the visitor center. “They’re still out looking. No sign of Fernando either.”
“I doubt he made it out of the jökulhlaup,” Kea rubbed her neck with her good hand. “But I’ve come to the conclusion that I have no idea what to think anymore because somehow it always seems to be worse. Did they recover the drone thing?” She held out her glass for another pour. “Or Romulus for that matter?”
Julie shrugged. “They’re not really telling me much. They’ve asked everyone to stay put. They want to talk to Tiko and Reynard as well. I gave them their phone numbers. I doubt they’ve gone far.”
“You don’t think they were involved too, do you?” Marcus idly rolled his empty cup on the table.
“I doubt it,” Kea said.
“I did have a word with Bonnie,” Marcus offered. “She didn’t reveal much, but she did say that nearly everyone worked on different projects, so they might not have anything to do with this. The only ones who worked on the drone project were Andrea, Derek, Tiko, Max, and…”
“Bruce.” Kea finished.
“So, Bruce finds the drone,” Julie began, “and then Fernando finds him.”
“Fernando can’t let him tell the others he’s seen it,” Kea added.
“But why not just go and get it?” Julie asked. “Why did they need us to get out there?”
“For all we know, they may have tried to get to it earlier,” Marcus conjectured. “Without the rafts, they wouldn’t be able to get across the lake. I imagine Fernando was just hoping to wander off at the appropriate time while we were on the glacier and retrieve the chip. Bruce must have interrupted him.”
“And because of that, and mapping the strat section, we didn’t even go back on the ice for days,” Kea reasoned. “And the weather didn’t help, of course.”
“So, what?” Julie asked. “He just wanted to grab the tech and sell to the highest bidder?”
“Maybe that’s where Lexie came in,” Kea expounded on a theory she had been working on. “Not only the getaway car, but she could sell the stuff, with no connection to Fernando at all.”
“Picked a hell of a place to crash,” Julie remarked.
“I’m sure they would have preferred somewhere more convenient,” Marcus almost sounded offended. “Although sometimes when you try too hard to make something look like an accident, the results aren’t what you anticipate.”
“I don’t think Lexie told Fernando about her stunt dropping me in the river,” Kea said. “Or the grease in the shower.”
“She was probably just trying to get you out of the way,” Julie ventured, “to ensure we stayed off the ice for a couple of days so they could pop across and get it.”
“Bit messy.” Kea considered the haphazard way fieldwork often went, improvising around weather, resources, staffing, floods, and eruptions. “Although that’s usually the way things are around here. But I don’t think she had it in her to be a killer.” She remembered the thud of the tire jack slamming into the mud beside her head. “Thankfully.”
“They were probably planning to just wait it out,” Marcus said. “Maybe go to Reykjavik and grab a raft there to bring back, but with the news of the eruption they had to move up their agenda?”
“Maybe,” Kea answered softly. “For a while, I thought Andrea and Bruce were in it together, wanted to start their own company, or maybe thought Max was up to something and just wanted out. We may never know.”
“And Max,” Julie pressed. “You really think he was the one giving the orders?”
“I think...” Kea broke off, remembering the look in Max’s eyes. “I think he knows what’s happened. Does that mean he was the one who came up with the plan? I’m not sure. As for who the buyer is, I’m still in the dark. Some competitor somewhere? The police may find out.”
“Even if they do, they may never tell us.” Marcus poured out a few more measures of whiskey and raised his cup in a toast. “To Tony.”
Kea downed the alcohol, wincing as it burnt the walls of her throat. She hadn’t mentioned Tony’s other activities with Ísadóra and had decided that she never would. The truth wouldn’t make anyone any happier.
“Okay.” Kea held out her mug for another. “What happens next?”
Marcus poured her a generous portion. “Well, Julie here will take you to the medical center and get that shoulder checked out. Then it has been recommended by Eco-Observers that this session should be shut down immediately.”
“Yes,” Kea said. “Well, the volunteers are already heading out, and we should go home. That would be the reasonable thing to do.”
Silence hung in the air for a long moment.
“Well, I mean,” Julie scrunched up her forehead. “We came here to study floods and well, we just got exactly what we hoped for.”
Marcus poured himself another drink. “I did tell them that it would take a couple of days to take down all the equipment. We can probably get some great measurements, but,” he paused, looking at Kea, “not all of us should go back out there.”
“What me, with my little broken wing?” she asked with a smile. She had made some decisions of her own on the drive back, ones she intended to follow through on. “Watch me fly.”
***
“Knock, knock,” Zoë called.
Kea spun around on her knees to face the pair of skinny jeans that blocked the entrance of her tent. She peeked out of the flap and saw Zoë standing there, awkwardly clutching a large cardboard box.
“ICE-SAR brought back your MRS equipment,” Zoë said, crouching down. “Marcus had it loaded in the trailer. He also asked me to deliver this.” She put the box down on the grass and peered inside the tent. “Did you finish packing?”
“Nearly.” Kea shifted slightly to hide a massive pile of unwashed clothes. Since her encounter with Max last night, things like laundry seemed so unimportant. She nodded at her injured shoulder. “Just taking things slow. How’s Cole?”
“Spoke to him an hour ago on the phone.” Zoë shook her head. “Couldn’t be happier to not be camping. Aside from the broken leg of course.”
“Glad he’s okay,” Kea replied, her mind still on Tony. Another funeral to attend.
Zoë shook her head. “Marcus was just telling me stories of you going all hard-core interrogator on Max. I can’t quite picture that somehow.”
“No?” Kea shoved the pile of laundry into a garbage bag as best she could with one hand. “Well, I guess I’m not entirely sure who I am anymore.”
“Deep.” Zoë sat on her heels as Kea crawled out of the tent on her knees. “Any chance I get to meet the new Kea?”
Kea stared into the tent at the lumpy plastic bag of clothes, wondering if she should transport it home or just burn it. “I’m not sure you’ll like her. I’m not sure I do.”
Zoë paused. “This new Kea... Does she like chocolate cake?”
Kea scratched her nose, considering. “I’m fairly certain all iterations of me like chocolate cake.”
“Then we’ll get along fine.” Zoë stretched out a hand and helped Kea stand.
Above them, the undulating peaks of Öræfajökull blazed in the sunlight, the sky clear of clouds. While the rain had left the night before, the grass around them glistened with dew. Most of the volunteers had packed up, leaving yellowed squares of grass as the only fleeting memory of their existence. Amirah, Gary, Andrei, and his daughter were waiting for the afternoon bus, having been given permission by the police to leave. Max was in custody for further questioning, as was Derek. Jon, located by the rescue team, had been taken back to Reykjavik at top speed to get his injuries treated.
The end of another field season, maybe the last.
“I meant to ask...” Kea found that after all she had been through, she was still afraid to pose the question. “If you could stay just a little longer…”
“What for?” Zoë asked with a smile.
“Any chance you’d like to go on a little plane ride in about…” Kea checked her watch, “five minutes?”
Zoë laughed. “As long as we’re back in a couple of hours, I need to get back to Cole.” She turned and walked to her tent. “Oh, Kea…”
Kea paused, worried Zoë had changed her mind. “Yeah?”
“Aren’t you going to open your present?” Zoë asked before disappearing into her own tent.
“What?” Confused, she turned to examine the crumpled cardboard box. Kneeling, she unfolded the top flap stenciled with the ICE-SAR logo printed on it. Within she found a life jacket, her daypack, and her jacket neatly folded up in the bottom. She unzipped the pocket and pulled out the baggie that held the remote control and the peculiar globule.