Storm cycle, p.4
Storm Cycle, page 4
But Allie had been won over within two weeks. Letty was in her midfifties, with short red hair and hazel eyes that gleamed with humor. She had boundless energy only matched by her intelligence. That intelligence translated in letting Allie go her own way, but she was always there when she wanted to talk or had a problem. Now they were close friends.
Allie reached out and gave Letty’s arm a quick squeeze. “Thanks for coming tonight. I knew Rachel would worry if someone wasn’t with me.”
“No problem,” Letty said. “Finish your coffee. Your body temperature always goes down when you get tired.”
“Stop sounding like a nurse.” She took another sip of the coffee and started for the elevator. “My body temperature is plummeting because I’m scared to death. I almost lost her, Letty.”
“But you didn’t, and the police will find out who did it.”
“They’d better. I’m not taking any bullshit. They’ve got to find that bastard.” Her lips tightened. “If they don’t, I’m going to be camped out in their squad room.”
“That idea would be funny except I know you’re fully capable of doing it.” Letty punched the elevator button. “And making Rachel bail you out of jail.”
“At least she’d be too busy to run around getting herself shot at.” She held up her hand as Letty opened her lips. “Okay, okay. I won’t do anything right away. Not until I see if the police are doing their job, and Rachel is on her way to recovery.” She threw the empty cup into the trash. “I’ll meekly play the part of Rachel’s albatross. I’ll finish that painting I’m working on. I’ll give your SUV a tune-up.” She added grimly, “Four days. Then I’ll go after their asses.”
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate your forbearance.” She hesitated. “There’s something you should know. I ran into Dr. Lowen while I was waiting for you. He was called to take care of Norah Beldwick.”
“Norah? She was admitted again?”
Letty nodded. “Seizures. She’s grown resistant to the anti-convulsive medicines.”
“Dear God.” It was one of her worst nightmares. Years ago she’d been admitted three times for seizures herself, and they went on for hours if not controlled. The effects and ramifications of GLD were all over the board. Blindness, deafness, paralysis; it could attack any part of the nervous system, and the violent seizures were one of the worst symptoms. “Can’t Lowen do anything? Find anything that will work for her? He did for me.”
“He’s trying,” Letty said. “He knew that you’d gotten to know each other when you were at his clinic.” She paused. “He said to tell you that he didn’t want you visiting her.”
“Why? Of course, I will.”
Letty shook her head. “She’s bad, Allie. You don’t want to see it.”
She braced herself. “What else?”
“Brain damage. She wouldn’t recognize you.”
“Oh, damn.”
“I didn’t want to tell you. Lowen was afraid that one of the nurses might mention it and let you see her. They know you’re here.”
“I’m going to see her.” She turned away from the elevator. “What room?”
“Are you a glutton for punishment? She won’t even know you.”
“I don’t care. She has GLD. That could be me. I won’t ignore her. What room?”
“Three twelve.”
“It’s okay, Letty.” She moved down the hall. “I won’t be long. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I’m not that brave. But I just have to let her know she’s not alone.”
_______
“It’s almost eleven. Why are you so late?” Rachel said as soon as Simon appeared in her room. “Did you bring me anything to wear?”
“I was dealing with those police detectives at the lab. They were going through the client list and asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About the people involved, the kinds of projects we’re working on, that kind of stuff. They said to tell you that they needed to talk to you today.” He dropped a tote on the bed. “Allie packed it for you last night. She wanted to come herself, but I stalled her.”
“It didn’t do any good. She paid me a visit in the middle of the night.”
He shrugged. “Sorry. But you know how determined she can be.”
“Yes.” That determination had probably kept Allie alive. She tapped the tote. “Is my laptop in it?”
“Of course. I knew you’d want to start working while we were driving down to Galveston.”
“I wish I’d had it this morning while I was waiting for you.” She grabbed the tote and headed for the bathroom. “Check me out of here before Norton shows up. I don’t want to deal with him right now.”
“But he wants to deal with you.” Wayne Norton stood in the doorway, his expression grim. “You seem to have recovered quickly, Dr. Kirby. I’m sure you won’t mind sitting down and having a short discussion.”
“I do mind.” But she could tell by glancing at his face that he wasn’t going to listen to anything he didn’t want to hear. “Five minutes.” She sat down in the visitor’s chair. “It’s okay, Simon, go and pay my bill. I’ll meet you at the front entrance.”
“I could stick around.”
“Go.” She gazed at Norton. “Talk.”
“Who’s taking potshots at you?”
“How do I know? It could be you. You were sputtering like Vesuvius the last time I talked to you. Maybe you decided that if I weren’t around, you could get my replacement to give you what you want.”
“What a pleasant thought,” he murmured. “I’m sure almost anyone else would be more cooperative. However, I don’t have time to negotiate, and you’re the only one who knows how to provide me with what I need as quickly as I need it. You know your process is unique. I don’t want someone to kill you and leave me in the lurch.”
“Then find out who did it. I have no idea.”
“I’m trying to do that. I’ve started to investigate every charity and research facility that you accepted or refused. Ordinarily, I’d go for personal ties first but you seem to have practically no personal life.” He paused. “Except for your relationship with your sister.”
She could tell that pause was the deliberate crouch before the pounce. “I’m busy. Tell me, do you have a personal life, Norton?”
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about your sister, Allie Kirby.” His lips tightened. “And the reason why you cut my computer time.”
“That has nothing to do with Allie.”
“I think you’re lying. Do you believe I wouldn’t have had you investigated before I chose you? By the time you were twenty-three, you’d managed to locate an obscure research facility in Ohio that was dedicated to finding a cure for Globoid Leukodystrophy—your sister’s illness. GLD is an extremely rare disease of the central nervous system. So rare, in fact, that research funds were almost nonexistent. The big pharmaceutical companies aren’t interested in putting money into developing a medicine that wouldn’t pay decent dividends. Did that make you angry?”
She didn’t answer.
“It probably did, but you found a way to work your way around it. You talked three business tycoons into funding the facility and suddenly it became the GLD Hope Foundation. But they probably wanted a payback, so you had to offer them something. You went after the control of the supercomputer recently donated to the university by Alvin Jones. You talked Jones into getting behind you and influencing the university board to let you manage the projects. Pretty amazing.” He paused. “And those three businessmen who are funding the research lab for your sister’s illness are still listed on your client list.”
“There’s nothing illegal about that. I’ve been completely aboveboard in my records. Their businesses require only a small percentage of the computer time Jonesy distributes.”
“But you pour a hell of a lot more into your research foundation, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.” She stared him in the eye. “But I also give a tremendous amount of time to other research projects. I’ve never cheated any of them of computer time they might need. What’s your point?”
“My point is that you cut my time. I want it back.”
“I’m having a few technical problems. You’ll get it back when I solve them.”
“I think your technical problems are bullshit,” he said bluntly. “I believe you’re getting desperate. Most GLD victims don’t even reach the age of two. Even with late-onset cases like your sister’s, it’s rare for victims to reach adulthood. You know your sister is running out of time. Are you giving my computing cycles to that damn medical foundation?”
“Heaven forbid I try to save lives instead of letting you have it,” she said bitterly.
“How do you know I’m not doing something a thousand times more important than your foundation? The chances of your sister surviving are practically nil, but you won’t admit it. You’re a fanatic. Well, I deal with fanatics all the time. I’m not letting you get in my way. I need that processing power.”
“Then steal it from the FBI’s computers.” She stood up. “But I don’t think you want to do that. You found Jonesy and me because whatever you’re doing is shady as hell. I don’t know if it’s agency business or personal, but you don’t want anyone to be able to tap into it. Perhaps I should make inquiries in your Washington office exactly why you want this computer time to be off the radar.”
“You’d find it labeled TOP SECRET and CONFIDENTIAL. Don’t threaten me,” Norton said. “I’ll give you three days. After that, I’m coming after you. You don’t want that. It could get nasty.”
“I’ll give you your time back when I iron out my problems. You guessed wrong, Norton. The problem is purely technical.”
“I mean what I say.”
“I’m sure you do.” She headed for the bathroom. Lord, she didn’t need this now. Norton was obviously dead serious and out for blood. “But I’m not cutting any medical research time for you.”
“Three days,” he said, as she closed the door behind her.
So much for his concern for her brush with death, she thought wryly. Norton had only hurried here to get her to reinstate his time with threats and possible blackmail. She felt a surge of anger but quickly suppressed it. She couldn’t afford being pissed off at Norton. It would take effort, and she had to keep all her strength and effort focused on the goal. She would give Norton what he wanted just to keep him off her back as soon as she fixed the leak. She couldn’t let a battle with him get in the way now. He was right, Allie was too close to the end.
Fear tightened the muscles of her stomach. Don’t think of Allie right now. She had to concentrate on the leak Simon had found in the relay in Galveston.
For God’s sake, Egypt.
THREE
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Ben whispered.
“Hell, no. We still have air, and that means that we can survive. I managed to clear some of those rocks away, and it looks like the rest of the tomb may be fairly clear.” Tavak stared down at Ben’s bruised and bloody torso. Damn. “I just don’t want to move you just yet.”
“I don’t think there’s—” Ben’s words drifted off as he lost consciousness.
Shit.
Tavak checked his vital signs. Ben’s heartbeat was fainter than it had been just a few minutes before. He had to get him out of here before long, or he could die. How? He’d have to go it alone and come back for Ben. But even if he made it through the rubble, he’d still be a sitting duck when he reached the entrance to the tomb.
He leaned back against the wall, his gaze resting on the woman in the mural on the far wall.
Peseshet.
She looked powerful, serene, and uncaring that she’d drawn him into this hellhole of a tomb. “You’re right, it’s not your fault,” he murmured. “I got my ass into this, and it’s up to me to get my ass out of it.”
If he was careful, and lucky, he’d be able to make it to the surface. But once on the outside of the tomb, he’d need someone to run interference. Who could he trust that could get here fast enough?
No one.
All right, then who was clever and determined enough to jump over the obstacles and make it happen anyway? Think, dammit.
A name jumped into his mind. He rejected it instantly, then he stopped and began to think.
Possibly.
If he could furnish motivation, and he thought he could.
Yes.
He reached in his backpack for his computer and flipped it open. “Okay, Peseshet, let’s go for it . . .”
Rachel and Simon were halfway to the lab in Galveston, and she had just begun to check the network links binding Jonesy to the relay in Galveston when she heard the tonal signal that she had e-mail.
Dammit. She didn’t want to get out of the program now.
“Are you going to answer it?” Simon asked.
“Of course, I’ll at least see who it is. Allie sometimes e-mails me.” She saved the program and went into e-mail. Three old messages from Norton, one from Val, and the latest one from a John Tavak.
“Who the hell is—” She stiffened. “Holy smoke, this message didn’t come directly to this laptop. It was transferred from Jonesy.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It was transferred from Jonesy’s closed network.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. It should be impossible. But I’m going to find out, dammit.” She clicked open the document.
Hello, Rachel Kirby, I do hope you don’t blow this message away. I don’t think you will since I took the precaution of sending it through your beloved computer. Curiosity alone should make you read it. I’m writing this from a Fourth Dynasty tomb in Saqqara, and I’m not in the best situation that—
“Saqqara . . .” Her shocked gaze flew to Simon’s face. “Egypt. Simon, it’s from Egypt.”
“I’ll be damned,” Simon murmured.
“You’re not the one who should be damned,” Rachel said through set teeth. “This has to be the bastard who has been tapping Jonesy.”
“Why would he decide to contact us now and let us know who he was?”
That was what Rachel was wondering. Her gaze shifted back to the monitor.
By now you’re trying to guess why I’m blowing my cover. The reason is pure self-preservation. I’m in something of a fix and I had a talk with Peseshet and she suggested that you were the answer to saving my neck. Not that you’d probably want to do it. And since Peseshet has been dead for over four thousand years, she may be considerably out of touch. But since I’ve been thinking of the two of you as mirror images of each other, I thought I’d give it a shot.
There’s not much time. I have a wounded friend and partner who may die if I don’t get him out of this tomb. Unfortunately, once we reach the surface, there will probably be a few scumbags waiting who will want to kill us both. Not a good choice.
Good riddance, you’re thinking. I can’t blame you. So I thought I’d better throw something out that would pique your interest.
Peseshet.
Look her up. You won’t find much but she’ll intrigue you. She was the overseer of a staff of female physicians in the time of the pyramids. Her son’s tomb is in the Louvre in Paris. She was totally brilliant, but not much was known about her.
But I know a good deal about her, and I’m going to know everything before I’m done. The tidbit that might interest you is that she claims to have found a way to regenerate damaged cells of the central nervous system. It wasn’t high on her list. She seems to have been more interested in other cures. Cancer and heart disease were her main focus, but she had more opportunity to experiment on the injured laborers who were building the pyramids. After six years she stated that she’d had almost total success. Her cures were always inscribed on tablets, and presumably could still be in existence. In fact, I’ve enclosed a portion of the cure that Peseshet created at the end of this message. Only a portion because that was all she teased us with. But it may be enough to excite you. Check it out. But at supersonic speed, please, because I don’t have much time.
Interested? Of course, you are. And your next reaction is going to be anger and disgust that I’d use such an obvious ploy to get what I want from you. Justified since I’ve already stolen a hell of a lot from your Jonesy. When I was researching the potential for total cellular regeneration of the nervous system, I came across your name and the foundation you’ d set up. Since I needed massive amounts of cycles to do the research to help me locate those tablets, it appeared that fate had taken a hand. I could find your cure and snatch a billion or so for myself by selling her cures to the world. We’d both be happy.
But to do that, I have to stay alive. I know you’re desperate, and I’m counting on it. You’re looking for a miracle, and if you find a way to save my bacon, I promise I’ll perform one for you. I’ve enclosed directions to the tomb where I’m waiting rather impatiently to be rescued by you. Peseshet thinks you can do it.
I agree with her.
John Tavak
“Who the hell is John Tavak?” Simon said. “Besides being an opportunist beyond the scope of imagination.”
“I never heard of him.” Rachel couldn’t take her gaze from the message in front of her. “I should ignore this e-mail, shouldn’t I?”
“He’s trying to manipulate you.”
“Yes. The chances are that it’s all a bunch of crap.”
Total cellular regeneration.
“He’s a criminal. He’s dangling that cure like a carrot before a donkey.”
“But he’s absolutely brilliant. We both agreed that he had to be a genius to be able to do what he did with Jonesy.”
“He’s a criminal,” Simon repeated.
Total cellular regeneration.
“What if he’s telling the truth?”
“Rachel, get a grip. He’s trying to use you.”
I know how desperate you are.
Oh, yes, she was desperate, and he was ruthlessly playing on that feeling of mounting panic.
“Rachel.”
