In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) (12 page)

Chapter 11

I knew nobody at this camp was safe, not while Ivan had a grand scheme to accomplish something my intuition told me was horrible. The more I thought about Ivan and pondered the red-eyed monstrous reflection I’d seen in my mind’s eye, the more I became convinced that he had a malicious plan to use all of us.

Ilya led me down to the beach where we found our group huddled around a fire pit. Jonah, Cole, and Faith all knew most of this crowd. Both guys talked to an older man with a long tangled ponytail and a denim button up shirt. He looked like a seasoned laborer, but his variation wasn’t obvious until he spat casually onto the sand near his feet. The ground smoked from whatever corrosive liquid he expelled.

Faith playfully juggled a tiny flame, alternately flicking it into and drawing it back out of the fire pit. She talked with a set of striking platinum blonde twins, women with matching pairs of bare leathery wings folded behind their backs. Their pale skin had a bluish hue. I saw what Ilya meant when he said that some variants needed to be discreet day-to-day.

I also recognized the winged women–at least one of them–as one of the variants I saw in my vision of the catacombs while standing under the shoetree at Cymbals. Had I seen her for a reason? Or had my mind’s eye merely grasped at an echo imprinted onto a tangible object? I had to believe that my visions were more than mental debris. As I considered the former, I puzzled over whom or what dictated what I saw, if indeed each image gleaned through my gift was information I needed. It was far too large a concept to ponder for very long without getting lost in the possibilities.

My eyes wandered back to Faith, watching the natural ease with which she manipulated the flame and I became jealous that she’d had years to practice her gift. I’d only known about mine for a measly handful of weeks. For all I knew, everyone here had known about their variation their whole life.

Ilya put two fingers from each hand in his mouth and whistled a loud sharp tone that got almost everyone’s attention immediately. He announced to the group that he wanted a meeting after breakfast tomorrow morning. He didn’t give a time and probably nobody here checked, or owned watches. He then walked away with Camille and the denim-clad spitter. Their departure left me with Faith and the winged twins. I followed the trio back to where Jonah and Cole stood nursing their bottles of beer. They both nodded at my approach, but a vibe of irritation and discomfort radiated from both of them.

At this point, I actually hoped that Jonah had unloaded his guilty conscience to Cole about making a move, literally burning me in the process, while his friend nursed an unrequited crush. None of which was
my
fault and I was ready to say as much to both of them. Only the embarrassing prospect of being wrong about the tension between them kept me from calling out the elephant in the room.

I stood in silence as they finished discussing the reviews they’d read of a video game awaiting release. I had no input, but as I warmed my hands over the fire, I looked up at each of their faces. Jonah’s black hair shone with flickering yellowish orange highlights reflected from the fire. His vibrant blue eyes still stood out, glowing almost as brightly as they had the night we kissed. Then, I’d thought his eyes glowed because of his emotional state, but now I considered it was his proximity to the ocean that energized him.

My heart sank. There was very little chance we would get back on the path to a closer relationship, but his perfect complexion, sculpted features, and lean toned body hadn’t lost their charm. He was tall, but not tall enough to be awkward next to me. I remembered the dance floor at The Looking Glass; Jonah’s chin rested perfectly on the top of my head.

Cole had a distinctly different look, yet it matched his character. As I examined him by firelight, I had to concede that he was also quite good looking, however much he might frighten or frustrate me. He wore his sandy colored hair in a mess of floppy spikes. In keeping with his variation, Cole was more thickly muscular than most men. His physique didn’t really suit the skater attire he usually wore, including the Atari T-shirt and baggy board shorts he had on at the moment. Most days his face had a light layer of stubble and in the dim light, it looked darker than usual. I smiled at the memory of being afraid of him. Cole then crushed his empty glass beer bottle the way most guys crushed aluminum cans. He chuckled to himself and let the shards fall to the ground from his uncut hand. Jonah rolled his eyes.

“So I guess we shouldn’t walk around here barefoot, eh?” said Camille, returning from the darkness.

“Oh, sorry, I, uh, wasn’t thinking, Camille. I guess I forgot people actually lived out here.”

“You ass!” Faith stretched out her arm over the shards and the tiny flame she’d been playing with shot into a powerful stream, melting the shards into a glowing puddle. Jonah drew an orb of water from the ocean and doused the molten mass.

“Ilya found a couple of vacant tents for you,” Camille said. “If you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll show you where they are.”

“Sure, that would be really great,” Jonah said.

“I don’t know, man,” Cole said. “I don’t really want my car getting towed. I left it parked up in front of the locked gate.”

“You’ll have until eight tomorrow morning to go back and move it,” Camille said. “If you get there a few minutes early, you can circle back out to the highway and roll in after the attendant unlocks the gate.”

“Great, so I get dawn patrol. I assume I’ll miss out on hot food too?”

“You can eat before you go, Cole. We start breakfast around six, but we keep it hot for a couple of hours because we have to eat in shifts. The sun and the tide coming in will probably wake you up long before either breakfast is over or the park attendant gets here. You might even feel like you’re camping,” she said with a smirk.

Cole opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it.

Camille turned to show us to our tents and everyone followed. Walking behind her, I noticed how graceful she was. The white linen top and knee-length cotton skirt didn’t look warm enough, but she moved comfortably. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Woven hemp bracelets around her wrists complemented a wood pendant hanging from a leather cord around her neck. As a masseuse and a healer, she seemed like the sort of person who experienced an emotional connection to nature and the earth itself. Then again, I had just watched my friends exercise their command over the elements. I was probably one of the few people on the beach that didn’t have a physical tie to the natural world.

The night passed peacefully, at least for me. Mine and Faith’s tent wasn’t exactly hotel caliber, but the foam mattress was large enough for both of us to sleep comfortably and the sheets had been to the camp’s laundry, such as it was. We both still had our purses, so between the two of us, we had the basics to freshen-up. I hadn’t camped since my last year of high school, but I remembered how much the simplicity appealed to me.

Camille had predicted correctly; the sun and the ocean woke us. My phone read 6:35 AM when I finished tying my ponytail after slipping my jeans back on. We stopped at the camp’s outhouse, which was in exactly the state you’d expect it to be. We used generous amounts of Faith’s hand sanitizer before making our way to breakfast.

The basic scrambled egg, sausage, flat bread, and berry juice fare tasted amazing. I ate ravenously, frantically grateful for the food. As the last few camp residents finished their meals, they responded to an unspoken command to clean. Before I could offer to help, they were done and Ilya stood at the entrance end of the tent, waiting for everyone to gather. He didn’t quite wait for the entire group before starting.

“Most of you have probably noticed that four guests that joined us last night. Many of you are already acquainted, so I’ll get straight to the point. You know why we’re out here and that something sketchy is going on in the city at Innoviro Industries. Some of you worked there, but probably most were ‘volunteers’ for testing. The reason I’ve asked you to meet this morning is that it’s finally time to pool our resources and our collective knowledge. We have reason to believe that my father’s work is even more dangerous than I’d originally suspected. I left Innoviro thinking that he simply tried to cut corners and make a bit more money. Unfortunately there is new evidence that suggests his motives are larger, but we don’t know exactly what. To help us figure this out, I’m asking all of you to think long and hard, now and over the next few days, to revisit in your mind anything you worked on or anything you have knowledge of that could shed some light on what my father is really doing. If you don’t feel you can talk about it in front of the group, come find me later.” Ilya paused to let the speech sink in and, I assumed, hoping for someone to speak in response. Heads swiveled back and forth as each resident assessed the group.

“I have something to share,” said the older man with the tangled ponytail. His denim shirt had been replaced by another collared shirt, this one a murky brown plaid. “My job wasn’t really all that important. I was a maintenance person. But when Tatiana hired me, she and Ivan didn’t need full time cleaning and repairs. Their research was too sensitive to let a property management or janitorial company onto the property. They wanted one person to be responsible for all of it. One of
us
that they could trust.”

“Vincent, thank you for sharing that,” Ilya said. To the crowd, he continued, “So you all know, Tatiana is my aunt. She has a senior and extremely guarded position with the company. Maybe not all of you met her, but she travelled around to several of our offices regularly.”

A sudden lurch of unease gripped me. I’d forgotten that Innoviro had other offices. Ivan made his own travel arrangements for inter-office trips and I had never thought to question why. In spite of working directly with Ivan, I had no addresses or phone numbers for the other Innoviro offices. I hoped someone here knew.

Faith’s hand shot into the air. “I have an idea,” she said. “Let’s tap Irina. She worked as his personal assistant. She was right there with him all the time. She must have seen or heard stuff that’s useful.”

“Um, I’ve pretty much told Ilya everything I know.” I said, feeling suddenly defensive. “I’m not hiding anything. Of all people, why would I hold out?”

“I’m not saying you’re holding out. I’m talking about your subconscious,” said Faith.

“Why don’t you hypnotize her? She could have seen something crucial, but didn’t realize at the time,” said Camille.

I assumed she addressed Ilya, but to be sure, I looked across the crowd searching for Camille’s distinctive pile of honey-colored hair. As I took in the faces around me in the daylight, I saw that most of these people could go out in public. However, I found several eye-catching faces amongst the heads around me.

A young boy, maybe not past his mid-teens, blinked at me with solid golden yellow eyes. His pupil was a thin black ellipse, but more startling, his olive skin had a sheen to it which looked almost like scales. Past him I saw an older woman with soft grey chin length hair. She also had white serrated mandibles extending from the corners of her mouth. Another familiar face from my Cymbals vision. I tried not to stare as I wondered what else her closed mouth contained. I found Camille and saw an expression of concern that was indeed directed at Ilya.

“I could try hypnotizing Irina, but let’s not put anyone on the spot right now. We can talk about it later,” Ilya said.

More variants continued volunteering bits of minutia, but it became apparent that Ivan had been meticulous in segregating each project or experiment, restricting valuable data to a select few senior staff that were still with the company. I hadn’t realized how many variants he’d tested pills and injections on, but most of the people under that tent had been test subjects rather than trusted employees. If Ivan wasn’t sloppy enough to let his mid- to low-level staff know his secrets, he certainly wasn’t going to let a random test subject stumble onto the heart of his business. For the same reason I’d said yes to Ivan’s injections, I felt myself warming to the idea of Ilya hypnotizing me. So after the conversation dwindled and Ilya wrapped up the meeting, I made my way over to him.

“That didn’t sound as productive as I’d hoped for,” I said with a smile.

“No, I suppose not, but I didn’t have high expectations,” Ilya said. “I knew my father was careful.”

“Then I guess I need to let you poke around in my head. I’m assuming your hypnosis comes with a little ‘extra’ if you’re able to read minds.”

“I can put you into a state of deep relaxation and help you remember things in more detail. The only problem is that it’s not like watching surveillance footage. We’re looking at images captured by your mind after they’re already filtered by your perception.”

“Okay, I think I see what you mean. You know I’m not convinced my visions are a mainline into some universal event recorder either.”

“True, it’s hard to tell. I’m jaded from my own disappointments. Let’s go back to my tent and get started.”

I followed Ilya back to his tent, a tall structure that looked like an army issue thing made with flat sage green canvas and plastic windows topped by roll-up canvas curtains. Wherever he got it, Ilya’s tent had been built to last. He swept his arm towards his cot, prompting me to lie down and relax. He sat in a folding camping chair next to the milk crate nightstand. Ilya didn’t give me the standard hypnosis spiel I was expecting. He put his hand on my forehead and told me to loosen my muscles and think of my desk and daily routine at Innoviro. Like one of my visions, the tent melted away and I stood in front of the main door outside the office.

I heard Ilya’s voice. “You’re back at your office first thing in the morning. You’re hesitating outside because you know it’s going to be a busy day today. Ivan told you he needed your help planning a trip.”

I looked down at my outfit and the coffee in my hand. The scene did feel familiar. I thought of the day I arranged Ivan’s trip to California earlier that spring.

“Go inside the office. Tell me what you see,” Ilya said.

“The office is empty. Melissa must be running late. I’m glad and I hope she gets in trouble,” I said, replying to his voice as though he stood next to me. I felt a lack of control and I was compelled to answer him honestly whether I wanted to or not, like I’d had too much to drink or woken from a deep sleep.