Spy, Spy Away

by Diane Henders

  “But… it would be so much better.”

  “Since when is unconsciousness better?” she demanded.

  I ground my knuckles into my aching temples. “Trust me, it’s better.”

  When I looked up again, her face betrayed her struggle. “Oh, Aydan, I hate to see you suffer. But what if you never regain consciousness? Or what if it damages your brain?”

  I sighed. “Have you determined conclusively that using the original key doesn’t damage my brain? The emergency room doctor said repeated concussions cause cumulative damage. And a concussion can’t hurt worse than this. So how do you know I won’t end up a vegetable anyway?”

  Her lips trembled. “I wish you didn’t have to do any of it,” she whispered.

  Then she straightened, tossing her hair back and lifting her chin. “All right.” Her usual crisp tone was back. “Try it if you want, but there’s no need to be irresponsible about it. Let me get my monitor so I can at least gain some useful data.” She turned and marched out, ignoring Dermott completely.

  He gave me a nod and a quirk of his lips before withdrawing, leaving Germain and me to avoid each other’s eyes until Jack returned.

  When she strode in again, case in hand, she shot a look at Germain. “Did you manage to talk her out of it yet?”

  Germain blinked. “No. I, uh…” He shot me a glance of barely concealed alarm. “No. Sorry.”

  Jack sighed and turned without comment to hook me up to the monitors, and Germain eased back in his chair, looking wary.

  A few moments later, Jack relinquished the wristwatch to me, her lips tightening. As I leaned back on the sofa, she laid a cool hand over mine. “Just go in for a few seconds. In and then out again. That’s all.”

  “Okay.”

  I followed her instructions, stepping into the void of virtual reality for only a moment before turning back to the portal, flinching with the habitual expectation of pain.

  None came, and I blinked up at Jack’s worried face before casting a quick glance around my office. “I’m still sitting up. I didn’t pass out.” A smile grew on my lips. “And it didn’t hurt.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure. You went limp for an instant, but it might have just been the transition into the network.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “I’ll try it again.”

  “Wait.” She sank her chin into her hand, still frowning, her eyes focused on some invisible theory. After a moment she straightened. “All right. Just pop outside the Sirius network for a few seconds. Maybe it was the external access that did it before.” Her brow furrowed again. “No, that can’t be it. You lost consciousness after doing an internal sim before, too…”

  “So I’ll try a sim,” I volunteered. “Here we go…”

  I stepped into the network again before she could object.

  Hurrying down the virtual corridor into a vacant sim room, I stepped into my mountain simulation. My concentration was poor and the simulation was a lifeless postcard devoid of depth or scent, but I was too distracted to bother with details. I paced for a few moments before dissolving the sim to head for the portal again.

  This time I woke horizontal, with two strained faces hovering above me.

  “Aydan!” As soon as my eyes opened, Jack pounced. “Are you okay? Say something.”

  “Shit.”

  Germain laughed, a too-loud burst of relieved sound. “She’s fine.”

  “Shit,” I repeated, and hauled myself upright despite Jack’s nervous fluttering. “How long was I out?”

  “Twenty seconds.” Her trembling fingers clamped over the pulse point on my wrist.

  “Hmmph.” I scowled at the watch on my wrist. “Maybe it was just the sim. I should try something else.”

  “No! It’s obviously getting worse!”

  I tugged a lock of hair, thinking. “But it’s not worse than last time. Theoretically if I go in one more time, I’ll only be out for five minutes, right? That’s what happened last time. And I was fine as soon as I woke up.”

  “Theoretically!” Jack threw up her hands. “This is the most… I…” She glowered at me. “This is the most pathetic parody of scientific method I have ever had the misfortune to participate in. It’s against every ethical-”

  “I’m just going to give the external network a try,” I interrupted gently. “Back in a bit.”

  Whisking into the external network, I hovered outside the Sirius firewall, hoping I hadn’t just done something stupid. Well, stupider than usual.

  A couple of minutes later, I retraced my route to step through the portal.

  Horizontal again.

  I sighed and sat up. “How long this time?”

  Jack was frowning, but she didn’t look as panicked as last time. “Twenty seconds again.”

  “Really?” Hope bubbled up. “So maybe I just need to get used to it. Maybe once I’m used to it, it’ll get shorter, or I’ll stop passing out altogether.”

  “Or maybe this was random chance and you won’t wake up at all next time,” Jack retorted.

  “Yeah, well, there’s that…” I eyed the watch, wondering if the next chamber in this Russian roulette game contained a lethal bullet. “Guess I’ll just try it again, then.”

  “Aydan, no. You can’t just…” She stopped and raised her arms to let them drop helplessly against her sides. “Well, fine. I don’t have a better idea.”

  Several tries later, I sat up again, hiding my delight at the absence of pain. “So…?” I eyed Jack hopefully.

  She sighed. “So the intervals seem to have stabilized between twenty and thirty seconds of unconsciousness. So far.” She planted her hands on her hips. “A handful of tests is not a statistically significant sample.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it’s a good sign, right?”

  She scowled. “It’s not a sign. It’s a tiny smattering of data that is utterly meaningless in a larger context.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, hoping to pacify her. “But that’s as good as it’s going to get for now, and I need to do some more research on Fuzzy Bunny before I leave in…” I consulted the watch, which Dermott had considerately set to the correct time. “Less than two hours.” The words came out on a sigh, and I leaned back on the sofa again, closing my eyes.

  “Wait!”

  Jack’s cry jerked me upright, my already rapid pulse bounding into overdrive. “Jesus, what?” I clutched my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to go back into the network using the new key.”

  “Why not?” I frowned at her. “It’s been fine. Twenty or thirty seconds, that’s it. And no pain.”

  “Aydan…” She eyed me with unconcealed exasperation.

  I groaned and hunched over to massage my throbbing temples. “Jack, please.” I dragged my head up to give her an imploring look. “I’ve had a headache for the last three days and nights straight. I feel like there are evil trolls playing kickball with my brain. I only want to get through the next couple of hours and then with any luck Parr will blow my head off and put me out of my misery.”

  “Sorry,” I added at her gasp of horror. “Just kidding. Graveyard humour. But honestly, the thought of having to go through another round of pain just…” I bit off the words ‘makes me want to curl up and cry’. “…sucks,” I finished instead. “Please just let me do this.”

  She sighed. “All right. It’s against my better judgement, but…” She trailed off into another sigh, and I closed my eyes on her troubled face.

  Chapter 37

  “Aaaaydaaan…”

  “Aaydaan…”

  Shit. That probably wasn’t good.

  “Aydan!”

  “’M okay,” I mumbled, still trying to pry my eyes open.

  “Aydan!” My shoulders shook vigorously and a hand patted my cheek.

  I groaned and flailed a hand in self-defence. “I said, I’m okay.” I finally managed to get my eyes open, to be confronted by Dr. Roth’s face at close range
. Behind her, Jack clutched Germain’s hand in both of hers where they stood against a backdrop of emergency room cubicle curtains.

  “Shit!” I jerked upright, squeezing my eyes shut when the room spun momentarily.

  “Lie down.”

  Firm hands seized my shoulders, but I shook my head and opened my eyes again to concentrate on stabilizing the room.

  “How long was I out?” I extricated my arm from Dr. Roth’s grasp to check my watch. “Shit! I’m going to be late!”

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but Dr. Roth planted both hands on my shoulders. “Not so fast. You were unconscious for twenty minutes. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “I’m fine. It was just the…” I hesitated, not sure who might be within earshot outside the curtained cubicle. “…same tests we were doing before.” I shot a look at Jack. “It was just a random reaction. I’ll be okay, just like last time.”

  The colour was returning to her ashen cheeks. “It wasn’t random. I ran some basic data analysis while you were unconscious.” She sighed. “Despite the small sample size, I found a ninety-eight percent correlation in the data. It’s a simple linear relationship. For every minute you spend in the network, you spend roughly fifteen seconds unconscious afterward.”

  She consulted her watch, steadying her wrist with shaking fingers. “And you’re right on schedule. Eighty minutes in the network; twenty minutes unconscious.” She leaned against Germain as though her legs wouldn’t bear her weight. “Thank God.”

  His arm slipped around her as if it belonged there, and I turned my smile toward Dr. Roth. “So there you go. Simple four to one ratio, and then I’m fine.” My optimism dissolved in a flood of renewed anxiety. “And I have to leave. Fifteen minutes ago.”

  I was half-way to Calgary before I remembered Linda’s engagement ring, still tucked in my bra. I pounded the steering wheel and swore violently. Far too late to turn back to my farm now. It had taken me an additional fifteen minutes to talk my way out of Dr. Roth’s clutches, and while I didn’t think Parr would leave without me, irritating him seemed like a bad idea.

  A glance at the dashboard clock reminded me I was still behind schedule, and I pushed to ten clicks over the speed limit, hoping my all-wheel drive would carry me safely over any remaining icy patches concealed by the winter darkness.

  When the orange glow of Calgary’s streetlights bloomed ahead at last, I welcomed them even though they brought me closer to my fate with Parr. Shivers racked my body despite the stifling heat blasting from the vents. My stomach twisted itself into empty knots of hunger, and I yawned over and over, my burning eyes streaming with involuntary tears.

  At last I gained the airport parking lot and spent several seconds peeling my aching hands loose from the steering wheel. Trembling in the seat, I berated myself all over again for forgetting to drop off Linda’s ring. And I still had my gun, too.

  I reluctantly unstrapped it and stowed it under the seat. Stupid place to leave it, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. The ring was another matter. Leaving it at home in my gun safe would have been all right, but I couldn’t bring myself to abandon it in my car. I couldn’t imagine trying to explain to Spider that I’d walked off and left his precious purchase to be stolen from a public parkade.

  I sighed. No choice. The ring was coming with me.

  Once inside the terminal, I tottered directly to the washroom in defiance of my tardiness. I might be about to lose my life, but I refused to jettison the remains of my dignity by peeing my pants.

  A glance at the hollow-eyed hag in the mirror made me glad Parr’s wife would be on the plane. If I had been planning to ingratiate myself by seducing him, I’d have been doomed.

  Well, more doomed than I already was, anyway.

  My tired mind seized on the semantics of whether doom was already a superlative and ‘more doomed’ was redundant, and I navigated the airport procedure with half my attention while I wrestled with that conundrum. At least it distracted me from the terror that the airport security guards were somehow going to figure out that the innocent-looking USB device in my laptop case was classified technology.

  Safely through security, I headed for the ramp, my mind buzzing with lies and nebulous plans to somehow trick Parr into telling me about his new secret weapon.

  The interior of Parr’s jet was enough to overcome my haze of fear and fatigue. I didn’t try too hard to conceal my reaction as I goggled around the luxuriously appointed front cabin. After all, Arlene Widdenback the petty fraud artist wasn’t necessarily sophisticated. And I sure as hell wasn’t.

  By the time the smartly uniformed and startlingly handsome blond flight attendant ushered me into a sitting room containing leather furniture, rosewood tables, and Parr, I had almost managed to close my dangling jaw.

  He rose with a smile to shake my hand, carefully avoiding my discoloured knuckles. “Nice to see you again, Arlene.”

  Suppressing the idiot urge to hide the laptop case behind my back, I shoved down fear and a creeping sense of inadequacy to summon an apologetic smile. “Hi, Nick, it’s nice to see you, too. I’m so sorry I’m late. I had an emergency right before I left.”

  “It’s all right…” He broke off as a tall, elegant woman appeared from the rear of the plane. “This is my wife, Eleanor. Eleanor, this is Arlene Widdenback.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extended a slim and impeccably manicured hand. I shook it, feeling like a coarse peasant meeting a queen. Her artfully shaded blonde hair was sleekly coiffed, her willowy figure accented by a creamy pant suit in some lustrous and expensive-looking fabric. And she wore pearls, for God’s sake.

  “Uh.” I cleared my throat.

  Thank heaven I hadn’t planned to seduce Parr. Hibbert’s insult rang in my mind. ‘Just a cheap whore.’ That was exactly how I felt next to Eleanor Parr.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I managed at last. “I’m sorry to delay your flight. I had an emergency, and I left late.”

  She made a graceful dismissing gesture. “Oh, nonsense, it’s only a few minutes. Please, won’t you sit down? And buckle in, please, we’ll be taking off shortly.” She eyed me with warm concern as I sank into one of the soft leather seats. “I hope your emergency was safely resolved. Are you all right? You look terribly pale.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” I clicked the seat belt over my embarrassingly growling stomach. “Excuse me. I missed supper.”

  “Oh, dear!” She and Parr strapped in, and she reached over to pat my hand. “As soon as we’re airborne, I’ll have Thomas prepare a meal for you.”

  “That’s okay, I don’t want to trouble you,” I began half-heartedly.

  “It’s no trouble at all. We’d be delighted.”

  At least if I was going to die, my last meal had been delicious. I sighed and pushed away the plate that bore only a few remaining drops of juice from a deliciously rare steak.

  Eleanor Parr smiled from her seat across from me. “You look revived. Thomas…”

  The handsome flight attendant bowed slightly as he appropriated the empty plate. “Yes, Mrs. Parr?”

  “Please bring some fruit and cheese. And…” She hesitated, raising one elegantly arched eyebrow in my direction. “…coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t usually drink caffeine.”

  “Herbal tea, perhaps?”

  “Thank you, that would be nice.”

  I fought the sense of unreality that had enveloped me the whole time I had been chatting and dining aboard the luxury aircraft of the crime boss who had been my biggest fear for nearly a year.

  Any minute now. Any minute he’d whip out a gun. Tie me up, beat and torture me…

  I barely managed to control my twitch when Parr leaned forward. “Coffee for me, please, Thomas.” He turned a twinkling smile toward his wife. “I have to stay alert while you spin my life’s savings away on the roulette wheel tonight.”

  She chuckled and reached to squeeze his hand. “You suffer so greatl
y on my behalf.”

  He raised her hand to his lips. “And a privilege it is, too.”

  Watching them, I had to remind myself what Parr really was. No wonder suspicion never reached him. He was a frigging pillar of the community.

  Sudden realization struck me. I was perfectly safe, at least for the moment. Parr couldn’t afford to attack me on his own private jet. If Calgary airport security showed I’d left with him and Vegas airport security showed I hadn’t arrived with him, it would be pretty plain where the responsibility lay.

  The faithful Thomas offered me his deferent half-bow and a cup of chamomile tea, and I exhaled days of tension in the guise of blowing across the cup’s surface.

  Parr wouldn’t do his own dirty work anyway. If anything was going to happen to me, it would happen after we’d parted company in Vegas. That made perfect sense. Just another unfortunate mugging in a crime-ridden city. No connection to Parr at all.

  The realization that my potential demise was at least two or three hours away relieved me more than I had thought possible. My muscles turned to limp rags and an almost-palpable blanket of fatigue pressed me into the sumptuous leather upholstery.

  My relief was short-lived. As Thomas placed a beautifully-arranged fruit and cheese platter on the shining table, Eleanor rose. “I know you two have business to discuss, so I’ll leave you to it, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Of course.” Parr rose, the epitome of good breeding, and remained standing until she had left the cabin. Then he reseated himself and leaned back in his chair, cradling his coffee cup and examining me with those incisive blue eyes. “So, Arlene, tell me about yourself.”

  “Um.” Tension slammed back into my muscles. “What do you want to know?”

  He smiled. “Why don’t we start with work. What do you do for a living?”

  “Um, I’m a bookkeeper.”

  I didn’t sound very convincing. Was I supposed to sound convincing? Would a petty fraud artist just blurt out a confession? Hardly…

  “Yes, and I understand Sirius Dynamics is one of your clients.” He nodded encouragingly. “Do they keep you quite busy?”