In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) (16 page)

Of the building’s five floors we chose the second for the best compromise between safety and ease of access. We were too far up from eye level for anyone on the sidewalk to see us, but we could get out quickly if we needed. The space had a main reception room with four smaller offices, a boardroom, and a basic kitchen. Two bathrooms still bearing male and female figures greeted us at the end of the hall and I made a note to check the taps to confirm if the floor still had running water.

The office must have been an old law or marketing firm. Lettering on one of the walls had been scraped off long ago leaving only partial outlines. Under a layer of dust I could still make out a pattern on the dark carpet. Small tan fleur-de-lis and flourish swirls formed borders around open squares of negative space, like woven golden grout. In the dark gaps I saw crumpled bits of paper, un-punched staples, paper clips, and flakes of old leaves all mingled with the dust.

The domed light fixtures overhead were embellished with scrollwork around the edges. A brass handrail ran the length of the dividing wall between the reception area and the hallway down to the offices. The wallpaper was a creamy color, textured with ridges. Varnished crown molding ran along the edges at the ceiling and the floor. The total lack of furnishings made me think about Nechako Motors and how it had been emptied with haste. I wondered if it too sat empty. What had happened to this law firm or whatever it had been?

While Faith and Cole rounded up crates to sit on and brought blankets in from the car, Ilya wasted no time trying to get back into our captive’s head. Although Brad had worn down somewhat, his willpower and rage were still powerful enough to derail any attempt at getting to his underlying thoughts. The asshole didn’t deserve the only padded chair, but we didn’t dare try to move him.

While Ilya struggled with Brad, I took the opportunity to pull my cards out of my backpack and try for an update on Bridget. I snuck into an empty office and closed the door behind me. I sat down cross-legged on the dirty carpet and shuffled my cards while picturing Bridget’s face. I closed my eyes and remembered her giddy smile the last time I’d visited her. While I sat on her bed and watched, Bridget packed her brand new hiking backpack with her European wardrobe.

In a flash, a new image of Bridget snapped to mind shoving out the memory. Bridget sat on a wide bank of stone steps leading up to a Roman-style building, a courthouse or a gallery. She and another girl I didn’t recognize ate sandwiches, alternating between bites and excited outbursts. A familiar greasy-haired figure approached them. NO! Not Bridget too! When had this happened?

I watched helpless as Rubin introduced himself to Bridget and the other girl, shaking their hands. Bridget’s smile dropped away leaving confusion behind. The other girl abruptly stood and left with a blank expression below empty glassy eyes. Rubin sat next to Bridget and put his arm around her. Bridget’s confused expression melted into a completely blank look. I knew her memories of me were gone.

I pulled myself off the stone steps, away from my one-time best friend and my recently deceased adversary. I was back in the dark condemned office, already on my feet. I bent down to pick up my cards and threw them at the wall. Why Bridget too? Couldn’t that sonofabitch have left me a single shred of my old life? I couldn’t even ask him. I felt a rush of satisfaction that Rubin had just died a violent and painful death.

My cards sat in a scattered pile on the floor where they’d bounced off the wall in an explosion of paper rectangles. I didn’t feel like sharing my news about Bridget. I’d cried enough in the last 24 hours. I gathered my cards back together, slipped them into their box and tucked them in my back pocket.

I needed a distraction. I returned to Ilya and offered to take over Brad’s interrogation. Ilya was happy to pass the task. Instead of palming Brad’s forehead again, I decided to grab his hand. For all I knew about my gift, touching a different body part could access different information. Or maybe the passage of time would suffice. To be safe, I shuffled my plastic milk crate around towards the back of Brad’s chair where his legs wouldn’t reach.

When I took his hand, he crunched my fingers together with a devastating grip. I yelped and Ilya kicked one of Brad’s shins. He cried out but the fabric in his mouth muffled the sound. I shook my hand, waiting for the circulation to come back and for the throbbing to subside. Then I grabbed his forearm, well above his wrist. My strategy finally paid off as the room melted away to my former boss’ office. Ivan sat at his desk with Brad in the guest chair.

“ . . . I have a new recruit on her way, so I want your schedule flexible for testing on-demand. I’m not sure how quickly things will progress, so I want your undivided attention when the need arises,” said Ivan.

“Absolutely, sir. I can assure you the new subject will be my first priority in the lab, and I’ll keep you apprised of all results as soon as I have them. When do you anticipate obtaining the first specimen?” said Brad in an exceedingly cooperative tone.

“I believe we’ll see her within the week, but we’ll know more once Rubin makes contact ...” Tatiana’s entrance interrupted Ivan.

“I have that correspondence transcription you requested. It confirms what we discussed,” she said.

“That’s fine, leave the file with me,” said Ivan as he reached for the folder. “Oh, and please take this document back to our associate. It’s an ‘eyes only’ file regarding the Compendium.” He passed her a white envelope with Innoviro’s logo in the center.

As the paper made contact with Tatiana’s hand, the office dissolved and I stood at an intersection on a stretch of highway I’d never seen. To my left, traffic flowed down to a small suburban mall. I looked to my right and saw a concrete cube building with a large ventilation tube. It had to be where the envelope went. I concentrated on the inside of the building and my viewpoint jumped forward. In a moment, my gaze left the ground and my mind’s eye focused on a desk inside one of the windows on the top floor. I concentrated harder, looking for some identifiable marker in the office. Out the door and across the hall the door read “402”.

I let go of Brad’s arm as he wrestled harder and harder. Vertigo hit me hard and I fell off my crate and thudded to the floor clumsily. Ilya knelt down beside me and reached out with an empathetic look. I returned to rubbing my sore hand.

“What did you see?” he said frantically.

“Some envelope that was really important to Ivan and Tatiana went out to a Federal building on the highway somewhere. I’ve never been there, but I think it’s here in town. Near a mall.”

“Good, good. Can you describe it in detail?”

“Yes, but I feel really gross. I need to lie down first.”

“Here, take this,” said Ilya as he handed me a little notebook and a pen. “Go take a nap. We brought a few sleeping bags and blankets from Hugo’s. Write down everything you remember before you pass out.”

I took the notepad and did as he suggested. I grabbed a sleeping bag and took it into one of the offices facing the street. The floor had the same dirt and debris as the rest of the floor, but surprisingly this room was a bit warmer than the rest. I looked down at sun-bleached patches of carpet and took the hint. I unrolled the bag over by a window. A pocket of warm air welcomed me as I sat down in the padded nylon cocoon. I looked out the window at the people walking below, young and old, marching and meandering, as varied as the people I’d watched from the booth at the Capitol City Motel diner. Then I wrote. And wrote.

My narrative covered Ivan’s office, the documents, the highway, intersection and mall, the building, and room 402 across from the envelope’s final destination. Then I closed the notebook and pulled it to my chest inside the sleeping bag. Shifting and twisting, I tried lying on my side, on my back, curled up, but comfort and sleep eluded me. My eyelids responded slowly over dry eyes. My forehead throbbed and my stomach grumbled. And then tears came, pooling in my eyes. I didn’t even know why I was crying, but it felt completely justified. Out of nowhere, Jonah’s hand touched my shoulder.

“You got room for one more in there?” he said with a playful smirk.

I stared up at him, at a loss for words. I rubbed my eyes to hide the tears.

His smile disappeared as he read the expression on my face. “Have you changed your mind about me?” Jonah’s voice was quiet with concern.

“No, but . . . last night, it happened again. That draining thing,” I said avoiding those bright blue eyes. He touched my cheek to comfort me. I flinched and he retracted his hand.

“I know, but it will get better when I finally nail down the research I was doing with Ivan. It’s kind of selfish, but I’m hoping all this drama leads to some progress for me too. If Ivan’s been doing some shady stuff, maybe he’s made progress on my case that he hasn’t shared yet, you know, to make sure I keep working there longer. Funny thing is, I felt so indebted to him, and I may have stayed loyal even if I had seen some dodgy stuff.”

“You didn’t know. Every test you had was one you gave informed consent to, and maybe the others consented properly too, not knowing that Ivan was working on something bigger than them. You shouldn’t have to give up on getting better. When this is sorted out, we’ll find a way to get your work back on track.”

“I don’t think you realize how rare Ivan’s company and research is. Do you really think there are other people out there researching genetic variations that most people think are pure science fiction? To even try to stabilize my condition, I need a lab and supplies, which costs money. And over the long run, I’ll need a job to start paying rent and bills again. I haven’t been stashing money in anticipation of Ivan being a sociopath. I knew I wouldn’t have it that good forever, but I still thought life after Innoviro was years away.”

I looked squarely at Jonah, suddenly sure I knew exactly how he felt. Maybe we had a lot in common after all. As I studied his features in the soft white overcast light from the window, I saw how ill he looked. The skin around his eyes had a mildly bruised sunken look and his complexion was too pale. Camille hadn’t said exactly how serious his problem was and neither had Cole.

“Be honest with me. How sick are you? Are we talking about finding a way for us to be together? Or is this about keeping you . . . healthy?” I almost said ‘alive’ but I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“I’m not sure. Ivan had me on a weekly injection, but that’s over now. And my situation is complicated. Most variants are born different or modified with advanced expertise, either before birth or as a child. I was pretty much an adult and what I did to myself was all thumbs compared to Ivan’s staff. I was studying under a man working on a cure for cystic fibrosis. He had a theory that he could use a combination of viruses to both manage symptoms and change a subject’s genetic makeup. One of his projects was a genetically altered cold virus. One of its effects was to reduce sinus fluid production.”

“Were you trying to prove him right and volunteer yourself for testing? Did you even have that condition?”

“If it had been like that, I would have told you. But I’m so ashamed to admit this, it wasn’t anything heroic. I was really sick one semester –regular colds and allergies–and I only wanted my sinuses to stop going overboard. I got drunk one night and I broke into the lab thinking that I’d never get sick again if my sinuses stopped producing too much fluid. Obviously, the virus had a completely different effect on me. I blame the fact that I’d been drinking absinthe when I injected the virus,” said Jonah, looking at the ground. “It was by far the stupidest move of my entire life. I’ve got only myself to blame for the trouble I’m in now.”

“So it’s getting worse, but is it going to get really bad, like you’re going to turn into a fish or something?” I said, laughing nervously.

“If I turned into a fish, I could dive into the nearest lake or ocean, depending, and forget about everything else,” he said with a forced smile. “No, this is going to kill me. The moisture my body craves now is going to overload me sooner or later. We’re made of a lot of water, but there is such a thing as too much.”

“We’ll find a way to reverse it. If Ivan can inject me with a psychic-enhancing serum, there’s someone somewhere that can undo your variation.”

“No offense, Irina, but you don’t know the first thing about genetics. Even if we derailed the proverbial train I’m on right now, there’s no way to know we’d find a cure for what’s wrong with me. We still have to remember all the other people who’ve had their lives damaged. We still don’t know what Ivan really wanted to do with his secret.”

“This all started because I wanted revenge, on Rubin and on Ivan. Revenge and my gut feelings,” I said, frustrated and frowning. “Such shitty reasons to tear everyone’s lives apart.”

“Nothing will bring your parents back, but after talking with Ilya and seeing how many others wanted to hide from Ivan, I think it’s worth listening to your gut.”

“Thank you, I needed to hear that. I meant what I said about getting your treatment back on track though.”

Jonah smiled and cuddled up to me. He stayed on the outside of the sleeping bag and I let him. Would each kiss hurt him now as much as me? Or would he get worse at the same rate regardless?

Chapter 15

The sun had set when I slipped out of my sleeping bag. I looked over at Jonah, who lay on his side reading, his head propped up with one arm. I’d created a makeshift floor lamp by propping up one of the utility flashlights we swiped from Hugo’s. A sudden cry of rage drew both our attention to the door. Jonah sat up, we looked at each other, and Ilya yelled again.

“Arrrrrgh! Useless . . . hopeless . . . sleazy . . .” screamed Ilya. “Asshole!” he shouted as his voice got closer. He stormed into the room. “He’s gone. That shifty bastard escaped!”

“How? I mean, you had him strapped down six ways from Sunday. Where did he go?” I said.

“How should I know where he went, Irina? Does it matter now?”

“No, but what’s the point of freaking out if we’re not going after him?” said Jonah, rubbing his eyes.

“We’ve got enough to go on without him. I think I can find the office and the envelope I saw in my last vision,” I said.

“We needed more than that!” said Ilya.

“No, we
wanted
more. But let’s worry about what we’ve got, not what we lost,” said Jonah. Ilya’s heavy breathing relaxed down as he considered Jonah’s perspective.

“What the hell is going on in here? I go get one lousy cup of coffee and the sky freakin’ falls,” said Faith.

“Brad escaped.” My eyes met hers.

“Great. Now we can get on with the trip to Vancouver,” she said flatly.

“No, Irina had a new vision. There’s something damning here in Victoria. A document of some sort,” said Ilya.

“Well let’s go get it then.” The snark in Faith’s voice seeped through, although she clearly tried to repress it.

“I’m not sure exactly where this place is. I
think
it’s here,” I held up the notebook and handed it to Ilya. He flipped it open to my dog-eared page and skimmed my writing.

“Arbutus Mall. Yeah, that’s here. And I think I know the building you mean. It’s a federal environmental research building. We’ve got two options. I could get us in with an illusion tomorrow morning when it’s open, or we could sneak in tonight,” said Ilya.

“I feel like crap,” said Jonah.

“I think I’d only need one other person. I know exactly what to look for and where. Well, almost exactly. I’ll find the envelope once I’m in the office. I’m sure,” I said.

Faith glared at me, but didn’t say anything.

“Someone should stay behind. I’ll maintain the illusion that the side door is boarded up,” said Ilya.

“I’ll stay too. If Ivan’s got people out looking for us, they’ll look here first. I should serve as the first line of defense,” said Cole.

“So it’s just me and Irina?” said Faith.

“I’ll try it alone. I’m not scared,” I said.

“That’s not the issue. It’s a bad idea to do something like this alone,” said Ilya. “You guys go together and we’ll stay here with Jonah.”

“Faith, you can probably short out the building’s alarm. It’s a government office, not high tech military. You’ll be in and out as soon as Irina finds this file,” said Cole.

“Why don’t
you
take Princess Premonition and
I’ll
stay with Jonah,” said Faith.

“I don’t need a babysitter, you guys. I’m not an invalid yet. I can stay here on my own and scare off anyone who comes in,”

“No, man, Ilya’s right. An illusion is better than any of us risking a fight with a junkie or a cop. If anyone does the fighting, it should be me. I can rein it in and hit without destroying someone. Faith, a short circuit is better than a broken door. Stop being such a brat and go with Irina,” said Cole.

Ilya and I looked at each other sharing the sensation of awkwardness. I knew that Ilya knew about me and Jonah. And about Cole and Faith’s own feelings.

“Fine. Give me your keys,” she said to Cole, and to me, “Are you ready now?”

“Yup, you bet. Let’s go,” I said nervously.

Cole handed his car keys to Faith and I followed as she stormed out.

I followed her down the stairwell and around the block to Cole’s car. I debated whether or not to bring up the situation with Jonah. As we walked up the hill towards Government Street, I mulled over possible conversation starters, some of which included “I didn’t realize you still had feelings for him” and “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” and “Does this mean we can’t stay friends?” when an RCMP officer rounded the corner at the intersection and locked eyes with Faith. She froze and so did I. A hand grabbed my wrist and yanked it behind my back as another hand twisted my free arm backward as well.

“Irina Proffer, you are under arrest for breaking and entering, and theft over five thousand dollars. Do you understand?”

The man didn’t wait for me to answer, he kept speaking and I stood in shock as I watched the officer behind Faith do the same thing to her.

“You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. We will provide you with a toll-free telephone lawyer referral service, if you do not have your own lawyer. Anything you say can be used in court as evidence. Do you understand? Do you want to speak to a lawyer?” he said briskly.

“No, I don’t understand! Where did I break and . . . oh,” I said.

“Remember now, do you?” said the cop.

“This is a mistake. I didn’t steal anything; I work there. Well, I used to work there. The place is shut down now,” I said as the cop forced me along the sidewalk. We back-tracked towards a police sedan Faith and I had passed half a block back. I heard Faith shouting behind us.

“There’s no mistake. The owner wishes to press charges. And I suggest you stop talking for your own good. We’ll arrange for a lawyer in the morning,” said the cop.

I took his advice and wracked my brain for what I took that could be worth five thousand dollars. My personal medical file? Could you place a dollar value on that? I couldn’t think of anything else I took. Considering the outrageously worse things Ivan was guilty of, I couldn’t believe I was the one being arrested. Faith was shoved into the other passenger seat in the back of the cop car. Her rage overflowed.

“Hey, losers! You seriously think we have stolen property? Do you know what our boss is guilty of? You can’t arrest us on the word of a guy who’s been experimenting on people, illegally. And half of them were kidnapped! He’s probably breaking the law right now. Stealing
and
kidnapping! And fucking god knows what else!” shouted Faith.

“Young lady, you need to watch your language, or better yet, follow your friend’s lead and keep quiet,” said the cop who had cuffed me.

While Faith’s cop stood outside speaking to someone on the sidewalk, my cop sat in the front passenger seat making notes. He stared intently at his writing, surveyed the street, checked his pockets; he looked everywhere but at us. I wanted to see the look on his face to see if he would give something away. How had they known where to find us, on the street like that? Could Rubin still be alive, listening to us again? Were they fake cops, working for Ivan? I flexed and pulled against the cuffs on my wrists. They felt real. In another moment, the lead cop got in the car and we pulled away from the curb.

A short drive carried us from Chinatown to the police station. Things kept getting real from there as the cops led us out of the car and through the central office space on the main floor of the building. Faith and I were quickly fingerprinted and moved along to a large room of wall-to-wall concrete. Our cell had a single long wood bench along the inside wall. The sickly pale lime green floor sloped inward on all sides, creating a large funnel towards a grate in the middle of the room. It smelled of urine, body odor, and more than anything, stale vomit. The combined smells nearly made me sick. I felt my gag reflex tug at the back of my throat several times before I became numb to the stink.

“You’ll stay in custody overnight until you see a judge some time tomorrow. We’ll have lawyers come in to meet you first thing in the morning,” said my cop. Faith’s arresting officer had disappeared after commenting about paperwork. He locked the iron bar door behind him leaving Faith and I alone. She sat down on the bench and I followed her lead.

“This place is foul! I had no idea jail was so awful,” I said. I felt momentary relief that we had something much more important to talk about than Jonah.

“Regular jail isn’t that bad. We’re in the drunk tank,” Faith said with firm certainty.

“How much time have you spent in jail cells?” I asked.

“Enough. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a drunk tank, I can tell you that,” she said.

“Have you been in real jail?” I said.

“You mean a juvenile detention center? That’s what it is when you’re a kid. Well, a teenager. I don’t think they send little kids to jail,” said Faith.

“So that’s a yes.” I felt a stab of shock, but I believed her immediately.

“I used to get in fights. Often. Now I’ve got roller derby. Sorry, I
had
roller derby,” she said. I could still feel some hostility in her voice. “We should get some sleep.” Faith promptly turned her back on me and curled up on her end of the bench.

I wanted to ask more questions. What was going to happen to us? Jail until a trial? Would there be a trial? What would happen if we were found guilty? I looked over and saw that she had already closed her eyes. I surveyed the rest of the room, still trying to blot out the stench of countless other intoxicated visitors to that cell. I wracked my brain for some way to spark a vision, hoping I’d see a future in which all of this worked out all right. But the prospect of placing even a knuckle or a fingernail on the walls or floors produced a fresh wave of nausea. So I copied Faith, again, and curled up on my side of the bench, closed my eyes, and waited for sleep.

It was no good. I got up and paced. Our bags and phones had been taken, leaving us literally nothing to do. I stood and thought–about Ivan and what he wanted from his testing on variants, about Jonah and my feelings for him, and then about his health. I thought about going to Vancouver and what we would do when we found another Innoviro office or lab.

I stared across the hall at the frosted glass window and the mottled orange light of the streetlight behind the glass. I heard a click-creak from down the hall.

A long moment passed between the sound of the door closing and the clicking footsteps that followed. It wasn’t the click of high heels, but rather the deeper sound of men’s dress shoes. Since I was sure no lawyer would come to see us in the middle of the night, I braced myself for something unpleasant.

The clacking footsteps came closer. A slight and freckle-faced officer approached us leading a large barrel-shaped woman. The officer stood slightly shorter, yet much narrower than the woman. The new prisoner seemed familiar. Her hair was shaved into combination of a pixie and a crew cut. Her dingy hooded sweatshirt stretched tight across her solid chest. As I stared at her arms, I noticed the lines where muscles bulged off each bicep. I wanted Faith to wake up immediately to bring her roller derby personality into the situation.

“Faith, wake your lazy ass up,” said the stocky woman.

The officer unlocked the cell door and slid it sideways along the wall of bars.

“Irina, it’s us. Go wake Faith so we can get the hell out of here,” said the police officer.

“What now? Us who?” I said with a confused frown. Television drama scenes of prison violence played out in my mind. I sized up the officer’s build. He was no match for the woman whose arm he held, let alone the combination of three healthy girls.

“Dude, she can’t see through it. That’s probably a good thing, right?” said the stocky woman. Her voice sounded distinctly male the second time.

“Cole? Is that you? Ilya?” I asked.

“There you go!” said officer Ilya. As I concentrated and focused on his face, the image flickered, shimmering like waves of heat over pavement on a hot summer day. Ilya was underneath, but as soon as I looked away and back again, the officer was restored. Cole had woken Faith and had her standing up, taking in the scene.

“I have to say, you make a really ugly chick.” Faith grinned at her brother’s expense.

“Do you want out of here, or what?” said Cole.

Faith smiled again and walked past us out into the corridor.

“We don’t have much more time. I can’t maintain this disguise longer than a few more minutes. I’m not sure I got this officer’s features right. People are a lot harder to change than scenery. And the real guy could stroll back in here anytime,” said Ilya as he marched ahead. “Visuals aside, being someone else is really tricky. You can’t duplicate their memories, knowledge, personality . . . it doesn’t last long or end well,” Ilya whispered as we got to the end of the hall and went up a short flight of stairs. We emerged into the office space we’d passed through hours earlier. “Now everybody, shut up!” he hissed back down the stairs.

Ilya walked purposefully, but slowly through the office. We all kept pace close behind him. I ventured a quick glance around the partially lit floor. Where bodies and voices had formed a hub of activity, rows of empty chairs and piles of perfectly still papers remained. A few people sat at their desks. Doors on either side of the room were all closed. None of the people at their desks even looked up, let alone challenged our exit.

Fortunately, Ilya’s mental strength held out and we glided past the desks and out the front door. We were halfway down the block before anyone spoke.

“Remind me to keep you in the loop anytime I’m doing something I might get arrested for,” said Faith.

Ilya and Cole stayed ahead and rounded the first corner. I saw Cole’s car parked another half block away.

“You’re lucky I can hear Irina from that far away,” said Ilya.

“I was wondering how you knew where to find us,” I said. “Wait, so you were listening to every thought I had?”

“Just while you were here. When you and Faith didn’t come back, I reached out for you. I couldn’t hear Faith, but you were thinking about how boring and horrifically awful-smelling the drunk tank was. I didn’t have to listen for much longer to figure out what happened,” said Ilya. We arrived at Cole’s car where he promptly crawled over the driver’s seat to unlock every other door from there.

“Good thing I had my second set of car keys handy,” said Cole.