The Aurora Conspiracies- Volume One

by Sam Nash

  Mary peered up at Luca, waiting for an explanation for his actions. He beamed back at her, content to remain silent.

  Karan broke the deadlock. “It’s wonderful news, is it not?”

  “The walking again and not being incontinent, yes, fantastic. How do you suppose that happened, Luca?” She maintained eye contact. He did not flinch. Not a hint of duplicity lurked in his features. He just went on smiling at her.

  Karan moved closer and lowered his voice. “You mean the bullet working its way out of your wound?”

  Mary nodded.

  “You used your electromagnetic abilities, didn’t you?” Karan frowned. “You did, didn’t you?”

  “No, I didn’t. Luca? Are you going to tell him, or shall I?”

  “Tell him what?” Luca looked puzzled.

  “That you removed the bullet.”

  “I did what now? That’s hilarious.” His snort turned into an infectious laugh. He leaned on the bed frame, as if this humour made him too weak to support his own weight. Even Karan managed a titter. “Aww.” Luca drooped his bottom lip. “We shouldn’t make fun of her. They are some mighty powerful drugs served up here. I could do with a dose or two myself.”

  Karan summoned his personal secretary into the room. “Ah, Gupta. I want you to arrange for a permanent medical presence for Mary’s suite at The Plaza, from the moment she is discharged from here.”

  “Certainly, Shrimant Shinde.” Gupta dipped his head to his employer, and then turned to Mary. “I am very glad that you are through the worst, madam.” Again, he bowed his head in respect.

  “Thank you. You are very kind.” She said.

  Gupta swung his tablet PC up onto his forearm and immediately began one finger typing at speed as he left the room.

  Despite her desire to steer the conversation back around to Luca’s involvement in her recovery, a more pressing matter came to the fore. Behind her visitors, Mary could see one uniformed and two plain clothes officers talking to the nurse at her desk.

  The men noticed Mary’s dismay. A quick peek through the window and they each comprehended her fear.

  Karan turned to the senator. “A chance for you to make a name for yourself.” His raised brow and hint of smugness was a challenge.

  “I already have a name, Shrimant Shinde, and one which packs a punch in this great country. Leave this to me.” Luca straightened up, slipped the cotton glove from his scarred hand and held it to his chest in full view, as he strolled through the door.

  Karan skipped around the bedside to the visitors chair and sat close to Mary. “Mary, you should not trust Senator Bonovich. He is not what he says he is. I have Intel on him and his dealings which is highly suspicious.”

  “Intel from corporate pirate, Bernie Feinstein? I can’t imagine what damning information she would concoct about an environmentally conscious politician who strives for an increase in alternative energies. He has got to be rarer than hens’ teeth. What, did his true philanthropy disrupt her bogus one?”

  “Hens’ teeth? No, none of that. The intelligence came from a contact of mine at the UN.”

  “I’m more interested in what your contacts found out about The Summerfield Retreat in New Jersey. Did you alert the authorities about the nuclear material?”

  “Mary, I am serious. Bonovich may seem all sweetness, but I assure you that it is only skin deep.”

  “And you don’t think that your assertions could be biased at all?”

  Karan’s features flashed with a pained contortion, before settling back into his diplomatic veneer. A forced smile flourished. “Who am I to judge. You must do as you see fit, Mary, but know this, I warned you.” He stood up and walked around the foot of her bed. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an important call to make.”

  As he reached the door, Mary called to him. “I am grateful, Karan, truly. You have been so kind to me, I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

  “I do not expect repayment. Please remember that.”

  He left. Mary could just make out the back of his dinner jacket through the glass as he exited the department. Gupta followed on behind, engrossed in his tablet computer. A little part of her weakened. How could she have treated him with such disdain? I am a horrible person. Just because he reminds me of Parth, it does not give me licence to abuse his kindness. What if I never see him again? I will never be able to apologise. Acid rose and burned her oesophagus. Must tell Dan that I’m okay, he’ll be out of his wits with worry, bless him. In a rapid linkage with her brother, Mary conveyed the news of her survival, and promised to fully update him of events as soon as she knew more. She felt his relief wash over her as though it was her own, such was the closeness of their bond. As she allowed the telepathic transmission to decouple, she felt his absence acutely. She was an injured fledgling in a wide and uncompromising world. He was all the family she had left, and he was too far away to provide her with a sense of security.

  Mary looked about the hospital room. The orchids were everywhere; large pots of mosses and bark, balanced on every surface in her room. The waxy fronds were multicoloured and gaudy. It was as though they were trying too hard to be beautiful. For all their exotic charm, it cheapened them. A single vase of daisies stood on the nightstand. There was a handwritten card leaning against the base. It said: Like the meadows at Ditchley. K. Mary rubbed her forehead, inwardly chastising herself.

  Luca returned, pushing a wheelchair which supported a large paper carrier bag. He beamed his empty smile. “Well, I managed to delay the cops, but not for long. They will want to speak with you about the shooting, and then there will be awkward questions regarding your identity. That is supposing that they are not already aware of your infamy.”

  Mary took a sharp breath. “You know about me?”

  “This is the United States of America, Mary. Land of opportunity and saturated surveillance. LEO’s might not know you yet, but you can guarantee that you are on the FEDs radar.” He pulled out a fluffy cotton robe from the bag and held it up by the lapels.

  Mary was dumbfounded. Why would a lauded senator assist a felon? Had he known who she was right from the beginning? Had he engineered their meeting? She couldn’t see how, unless Karan only pretended to dislike Luca, which she doubted. How could Luca have known that she would attend the charity auction? Unless Gupta had registered her name when the invitation was extended, but that would have been as Sedgewell, not Arora. She inched closer to the edge of the bed, cradling her lower abdomen against the impact of movement. He disconnected the bag of fluids from the morphine pump, and then from the stand. Raising a metal armature from the rear of the wheelchair, he slid the bag through one side of the robe and hooked it to the bracket.

  Groggy, she threaded one arm at a time through the sleeves. “Where are we going?”

  “Home to California. You’ll love it.”

  “But what about Karan, and my things at The Plaza?” His voice was a delayed echo inside her head, the anaesthetic lingering and clouding her reason.

  He gently urged her to sit in the wheelchair with his hands pressing down on her shoulders. “I’ll getcha new stuff.” He spun the chair around, pushed her out of the room and down the corridor to the elevators.

  She tried to stand up, balking from the pain. “I have to get my satchel, and the brooch…oh god, where’s my brooch? I had it on me last night…”

  “Stop worrying, it’s safe and sound. I have it.” The elevator pinged its arrival and opened the doors. “And I’ll buy you a new satchel.”

  “Not like that one. My grandfather bought it for me.”

  A car waited for them at the kerbside to the main entrance. Another large man in a black suit, with the curly wire of an ear piece trailing to his collar, opened the passenger door for her. She turned to Luca. “I am sorry about your security man. I heard the detectives saying that he was killed last night.”

  “Thanks. He was a good man. I will pay my respects to his family as soon as we get back.”

  Mary sl
owly climbed into the spacious town car, and shuffled over to allow Luca in beside her. The bodyguard slammed the door, which wobbled the vehicle on its shock absorbers, and then made his way to the front passenger seat.

  “Please can I have my brooch?” She hung the fluid bag on the suit hook above the door post.

  “Yeah, sure, when we get there. It’s packed in my luggage.”

  Mary was not sure why this response irked her so. He knew of the jewel’s peculiar properties. If he had wanted to steal it, he need only leave her at the mercy of Law Enforcement Officers at the hospital and make off with her inheritance. Why was he being so squirrelly?

  As they pulled away down the street, Mary felt a pang of sadness. A sorrow borne of unfinished business and trampled feelings. What would Karan think of her now? She tried to convince herself that there were no other options open to her, but it wouldn’t stick. Why did she go with Luca so easily, without a murmur of protest? It boiled down to instinct. He was like her. He knew it, she knew it. Only time spent together would uncover the extent of his abilities. And, if Karan was reluctant to help her to discover what was happening at The Summerfield Retreat, perhaps the Senator of California would instead.

  Mary turned to look at him. His features were so symmetrical, his countenance calm and self-assured. He removed the cotton glove and flexed his hand. The tracery of scars was still angry. “Are you in much pain?” She asked.

  He held up his strong, masculine hand and examined the welts. “A bit. Less than before. Aren’t we a couple of old invalids?” He laughed. The wrinkles bunched up around those impish eyes, drawing her gaze into his soul. The temptation was too great. She had to know what he was thinking. Did his future plans include her? Within that protracted glance, Mary tried to lock on to his consciousness. To forge a tether into his stream of thoughts and extract all she could. Projecting her will towards him, she concentrated hard. Her thoughts attempted to synchronise to his fluctuating wavelength, but it slipped by her like a swarm of eels, slithering around her connection. Perplexed, Mary halted her foray into his mind. She frowned. Luca’s grin widened.

  Was that just a coincidence? Did she fail because she was weakened by the post-operative stress on her body, or was he fully aware of her abilities and knew how to block them? One side of his mouth turned up in a cavalier curl. He had her measure. Her secrets were laid bare. The internet had taken care of her more visible assets, now he knew her strength with mind reading. She was no match for his blockade. The realisation unsettled her.

  Over the last few horrifying weeks, her abilities had given her a confidence unlike ever before. An odd comfort in knowing that she would be able to blast her way out of most unpleasant situations. She had finally learnt how to protect herself. This new development silenced her on the journey back to the airport. Luca seemed to bask in his triumph, allowing her an undisturbed hour or so of contemplation. He made telephone calls to assistants, tracked data on his laptop and wrote notes for an upcoming speech to the senate. Mary wrapped her robe around her bare legs and tucked them up along the back seat, watching him. He did not seem to mind the audience. He gazed at her every now and again, accompanying it with a dazzling smile; the one he reserved for publicity photos and reporters.

  The town car by-passed the airport terminal and drove along a slip road, turning directly towards the hangars for privately owned jets. Luca packed away his gadgets and helped Mary out of the car onto the asphalt. The wind stung her legs and tousled her hair. He led her to the small metal treads at the jet entrance, and steadied her ascent.

  “As soon as we take off, I’ll wrap you in a warm blanket. There’s a tonne of clothes at the house. They’ll keep you going for now.”

  The swanky jet taxied, took off at an alarming incline and eventually levelled off in the clouds. The seat-belt light extinguished and Luca called the flight attendant and asked for a blanket. Cocooned in wool, Mary lay back in the reclining leather seat, and watched Luca conduct his business affairs, thirty-six thousand feet above the ground. Scattered papers rested in little stacks on the folding table, on seats and on the side of his leather briefcase. Tiny fluorescent labels directed his attention to sections requiring his signature, others pointed out potential conflicts in his various campaigns, and some were attached to glossy brochures of luxury items for sale.

  One prominent lever arch folder, stood tall with around four inches of A4 paper, enclosed within its bindings. Colour coded tabs poked out at the edges, delineating raw data from summaries. Luca flicked through its contents. His concentration manifested in squinted looks into the distance, followed by a habitual rubbing of his chin. Mary studied his features, from her half-closed eyes, for more than an hour. The volume of paperwork he could consume was impressive to say the least. He was no slouch in the due diligence department. Mary ached to broach the topic of his latent gifts, but she surmised that interrupting his work flow would not yield the information she desired. What was it about his features that so appealed to her? Was it his perpetual bad boy persona? His passion for his environmental crusades? The desire to replicate the Californian successes in alternative energy supplies to the rest of the country? Or was it simply animal attraction? Her gaze drew him from his reading. He peered up at her and smiled.

  “Here.” He grabbed one of the colour brochures, and chucked it over onto her lap. “Make yourself useful. Pick out a menu for a soiree I’m having next week at the vineyard.”

  “Why, because that’s all women do; arrange parties and make dinner?” She caught the caterers file and chuckled.

  He gave her a pronounced eye roll.

  Half indignant, she whined. “I know nothing about posh food.” She peered at the lavish pictures and gasped at the prices.

  “Sure you do. Pick anything. I don’t care.”

  “For how many guests?”

  “Not many, two-hundred or so.”

  Her mouth gaped open. He flicked a pen in her direction and returned his focus to the hefty folder. As he read the concluding summary to the vast report, his expression darkened. Mary was just circling a variety of canapes and finger food choices, when he drew a sharp breath across his teeth, pounded his fist into the table and stood up. Reaching for the massive folder, he slammed shut the cover, lifted it high and hurled with some force onto the chair opposite his. Its sheer weight and momentum embedded the corner in the soft leather folds, tearing a hole in the calfskin. He turned on her, his stance threatening, his eyes crazed. Mary froze.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her shocked reaction immediately reined in his temper. He took a cathartic breath and apologised.

  “It’s something I’ve been working on for a really long time. I had hoped that the conclusions in the report would support my campaign. They don’t.” Luca analysed her features. Mary remained tense and guarded. Her jaw was rigid, her hands poised in defence. “It’s no excuse for my outburst. Can I get you anything to drink? That fluid bag ran dry an hour ago. We ought to see if we can disconnect it somehow.” He took a step forward and leaned in towards the cannula.

  Mary pushed back on her reclining seat, moving her arm further away. “I can manage. Thank you.” She gave the plastic valve a jerked tug, freeing the delivery tube from her vein. It had adhered to her skin. The ripped tissue was reddened, sore and leaking. She licked her thumb and pressed it against the puncture site.

  “I’m sorry. This must all be really confusing for you. You hardly know me, and yet here we are, high in the sky together having met only yesterday.”

  Still, she said nothing.

  His desire to get back in her good books, seemed to be loosening his tongue and mellowing his temper. “It’s just, this report was going to be my lynch pin. The evidence to sway the other senators to back my bill. It allows residents the right to veto the proliferation of new cell phone Wi-Fi systems which use untested ranges of high frequencies from the electromagnetic spectrum.” He paused, looking for signs of forgiveness. Mary remained resolutely still, and
silent.

  As she predicted, he filled the uncomfortable void. “I wanted to take it further, follow the good examples set in Hawaii. They have threatened to hold anyone who installs smart meters or Five-G personally liable for any health issues suffered as a result. It’s a brilliant plan for Hawaii, wouldn’t work in other states though. My goal was to make telecom companies accountable. Their response was to commission this study into the effects of Five-G bandwidth. And as is usual for these types of situations, those who fund the research are able to skew the results in favour of their proposals. I don’t got a leg to stand on.”

  Mary listened to his articulate outpouring. Even if his temper had flared, his motives were sound. After such a long campaign, anyone would be frustrated with this result. He sat heavily in his chair, raking his close cropped hair with both sets of digits. She slid the catering pamphlet on the table and rested a hand on his arm. He looked up at her, those roguish eyes searched hers for clues to her emotional state.

  “Are there any other studies from which you could draw? Isn’t fifth generation cellular technology on the cards in European countries too? They will have independent sources of research.”

  Luca rubbed his chin absently, staring at her and nodding his head. “Yes, I looked into that. They were what alerted me to the issues in the first place. Jeez, The World Health Organisation lists radio frequency radiation as a class Two-B carcinogen. It is not rocket science. Using frequencies that are borderline microwaves will cause untold damage. DNA strand degradation, unchecked levels of stress proteins and cell metabolism destabilisation…the list goes on and on.” Luca jumped back up and paced along the narrow walkway within the confines of the jet. Mary empathised. Supersaturation of the airwaves was a global issue. Anything the United States could sanction, would soon propagate elsewhere, regardless of the hazards. She let him bluster.

  “They are blurring the lines between ionising and non-ionising radiation. Opening up this bandwidth is just one step closer to irradiating everything and everyone of us, twenty-four-seven.” He huffed a sigh and scooped up the cognac decanter from a hospitality tray. Holding it up towards Mary, he invited her to join him.