Forever (73 page)

The Ghost got off on having the power of
life and death, and thought of killing as the ultimate game. Loved
playing God.

The Ghost thought, Yeah. About time to go
out and filch a rose. A real nice velvety one, red as blood.

It was the least she deserved, a looker like
her . . .

Sitto da Veiga, Brazil

After taking Stephanie to the geodesic dome,
Dr Medrado dropped her off at her fifth-floor quarters, where her
decontaminated luggage awaited her.

The accommodation was compact but excellent
- a pie slice of a room which reminded her of a large cabin aboard
a first-class ship.

There was a wedge of closet to the left and
a compact wedge of bathroom, with modular shower, to the right.
Beyond this, the room widened, with a pair of two-seater couches
facing each other across a low coffee table, the illusion of space
the result of a wall of mirror behind each couch.

The sleeping area was directly beyond, and
had a double bed, a built-in desk with a sleek adjustable chair,
and a television with a video cassette recorder. A sweating ice
bucket contained a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon wih a lavish
white silk ribbon tied around its neck. She looked at the attached
card. It read:
Wish I was here. Love, E
.

She smiled, touched by Eduardo's
thoughtfulness. I wish you were here, too, she thought.

Now then, she thought, clapping her hands
together. First things first. Unpacking.

That done, she took her travel kit of
toiletries to the bathroom, slid the suitcase under the bed, and
took the infrared goggles she had lifted from the security section
out of her pocket. She deliberated over where to hide them and
decided upon the back of the nightstand drawer. Pulling it open,
she found a telephone directory, and a foldout map of the entire
Si'tto da Veiga complex. She left it out to study later; it would
come in handy until she familiarised herself with the place.

The bedside telephone bleeped and she picked
it up on the first ring. 'Hello?'

A familiar voice said, 'Well, how do you
like Disney World?'

'Eduardo!' Her eyes were vivid and shiny.
She was delighted to hear his voice. Despite all the distractions,
she had found she missed his company sorely, and wished he had been
the one showing her around.

'You know,' he said, 'you are hardly gone,
and already I find I miss you.'

She laughed happily. 'And I miss you, too,
dammit!' she said softly. 'I've already begun counting the days
until I'm back.'

'I do not think that will be necessary. I am
rearranging my schedule to try and fit in a quick visit there. That
is,' he laughed, 'if you will have me.'

'If I'll have you? Did you say "if" I'll
have you? Eduardo de Veiga, you've only just made me the happiest
woman in the Amazon! You know that, don't you?'

'Well, I hope so.'

'Tell you what. I'll save the champagne for
when you get here. We can pop the cork together.'

'It will be a day or two,' he warned
softly.

A knock on the door broke the magic spell.
She turned and glanced quickly towards it.

'Eduardo, I think somebody's at the door.
I'd better go see who it is. Do you want to hold, or are you in a
hurry?'

'Actually, I'm already late for a meeting. I
will call you tonight.'

'I'd like that.'

She smiled as she hung up, instinctively
stopping by the mirror on her way to the door and self-consciously
fluffing her hair with her fingers.

The knocks came again.

'I'm coming,' she called out and went over
and grasped the door handle. She was about to push down on it when
caution intervened: the habits of New York City were hard to break.
'Who is it?' she enquired.

'I have a delivery for Stephanie
Merlin.'

What --

She let go of the door handle and jerked
back, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle an inarticulate
cry.

Stephanie Merlin -? She stared at the door.
Who . . .?

But I've told no one my real namel she
quailed inwardly. I've covered my tracks completely . . .

. . .haven't I?.

The door wobbled under a barrage of more
insistent knocks.

'I . . . I'm sorry,' she called out
tremulously. 'You must have the wrong room.'

'Goddamn it,' the voice growled. 'Will you
stop fooling around and open this damn door!'

The handle rattled.

For a moment, she was frozen with
indecision. Go away! she projected. Leave me alone!

Then swiftly, decisively, she stepped
forward, wiped her hands on her green shirt, and took a deep
breath. Before she could change her mind, she unlocked the door and
yanked it open.

'
You!
' she gasped.

He shoved the door wider, pushed past her,
and slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind him.

'Surprised to see me?' he taunted, flashing
her a grin so insolently cocky, and a wink so provokingly cheeky,
that she was tempted to slap him across the face.

But shock had rendered her immobile. She
watched in a condition of disbelieving affront as he inspected the
room as if he owned the place. She gave a start as he whirled
around, snapping his fingers in mock disappointment.

'Aw, shucks! I thought I was surprising you,
and look at that! You were expecting me all along!'

He plucked the champagne bottle from the ice
bucket.

'You even remembered my favourite brand!'
Armoured against the daggers she threw him, he winked again. 'Well,
as I always say, never let a good vintage go to waste.'

A choking sense of outrage fast replaced her
paralysed shock. Furious now, she stalked after him, grabbed him by
the arm, and twisted him around. 'And what the hell do you think
you're doing here?' she demanded in a hiss.

'Would you believe,' said Johnny Stone,
already picking the foil off the champagne cork with his thumbnail,
'you asked the very question I was going to ask you?'

Sitto da Veiga, Brazil • New York City

Stephanie had almost forgotten how
maddeningly irritating Johnny could be.

She shot him a killer glare. They were
sitting across the coffee table from each other. She intractable.
Rigidly erect with her arms folded in front of her chest. And yet
there he was - utterly, irksomely, impassively at ease, without a
tense muscle or care in the world.

'Shame to let good champagne go to waste,'
Johnny drawled.

The glass he had poured her remained
untouched on the table in front of her. I'd rather die of thirst,
she thought.

Having elicited no response, he merely
shrugged, took a dip into his glass, and sighed contentedly.

'Ah!' he purred, settling back and putting
his feet up on the table. 'Now this is the life. First-rate wine,
three meals and a flop. And a bona fide Amazon to boot. A guy could
get spoiled in this giant, endless, steamy green jungle, yes siree,
he could.'

'Oh, cut the crap, Johnny!' she snapped, if
you've got something to say, then why don't you just say it and
then get your ass out of here! I'm not in the mood for your
sadistic little games!'

As though he hadn't antagonised her enough,
he gave a little yawn and held his glass directly under his nose,
letting the bubbles fizz, pop, and tickle.

'You don't suppose there's any more of this
exceptional champagne,' he murmured lazily. 'I mean, you know how
these hollow-bottomed bottles are. You always run out just when you
think there's still half a bottle left.'

She was flushed, almost crimson with rage.
Despite the weeks which had passed since their last run-in on
Capri, it might as well have been yesterday. Johnny's inimitable
talent for raising her hackles hadn't diminished a bit since then.
On the contrary, she fumed in silence. He's done the impossible -
become more insufferable than everl

She fought to keep her voice under control.
'I wouldn't worry about running out of champagne, since that one
glass is all you're going to have. Now, if you'll drink up and
-'

'Champagne is made to be savoured, not
quaffed.'

'Johnny, if you don't go now. . . this very
instant!. . . you leave me no alternative but to call
security.'

'By all means.' He flourished an unconcerned
gesture towards the phone. 'The number's triple nine, triple one.
Shouldn't imagine Colonel Klink's freelance foreign legion will
take more than, oh . . . three minutes or so to get here?'

She eyed him in silence. 'Well?' she
demanded.

He took a tiny sip of his champagne.
'Yum-yum,' he said.

'I'm going to count to ten,' she warned. 'If
you're not gone by -'

'Call the Gestapo if you must,' he said
placidly. 'No one's stopping you.' He lifted one foot off the
coffee table and crossed that leg casually over the other, settling
back even more comfortably. 'If you're hesitating because you're
afraid I'll blow your cover, Ms . . . er . . . Williams, is it,
this time around? ... I want to assure you that I'd never dream of
doing such a thing.' He winked slyly at her and smiled with subtle
cunning.

The flush faded from her face. 'You wouldn't
dare!' she whispered.

His eyebrows rose with mock concern. 'You
suddenly look rather pale. Are you sure you're all right?'

'No, I'm not!' For one long, terrible moment
she felt herself teetering on the edge of an epic volcanic
eruption, and then the fight suddenly seeped out of her. She
slumped back on the couch. 'What is it you want from me, Johnny?'
she asked wearily.

'Why, open lines of communication. I don't
think that's too much to ask for, is it?'

'Open lines of communication?' she repeated
blankly.

'Sharing,' he said, 'as in you telling me
what you've learned, and me telling you what I've learned.'

'What you've learned!' She chortled
derisively. 'Don't make me laugh!'

He shrugged. 'Have it your way then,' he
sighed. 'Just don't come to me later and say, "Why didn't you tell
me?" '

She clenched her jaw in stubborn pride. If
he thought she was going to say, 'Tell me what?' he could wait till
hell froze over. Bad enough that he'd got here before her;
admitting that she needed all the help she could get, particularly
his help, was beneath her dignity.

'All I want to know,' she demanded stiffly,
'is how you knew to come here, to Si'tto da Veiga.'

'Whither goeth the de Veigas,' he quoted,
'there goeth I.' He reached for the champagne and replenished his
glass.

'Why don't you just take the bottle with you
on your way out?' she suggested with saccharine sweetness. 'In case
you don't realise it, Johnny, I have work to do.'

'Believe it or not, so do I. Be a shame to
lose a job after only a month's work.'

She gaped at him. 'A month!' she whispered,
so thrown that she actually gasped in disbelief. 'You've been here
an . . . entire . . . month?'

'Give or take a day or two, yes,' he replied
serenely, 'I have.'

Stephanie looked at him with peeved disgust.
Just her luck to be outmanoeuvred by the most unbearable, cocksure
nuisance of them all.

'I gather this means you know your way
around this place?' she gloomed.

'Every accessible nook and cranny.' He
smiled lazily and wiggled his toes as if he didn't have a care in
the world. 'Not to mention,' he added, 'some rather inaccessible
ones.' He looked immensely pleased with himself.

Without realising what she was doing, she
sat forward, grabbed her glass, and chug-a-lugged it in one long
swallow.

He lifted the bottle, looked at her
questioningly, and she nodded and held out her glass. He leaned
forward and topped it up.

'How do I know you're not just full of hot
air?' she demanded, sitting back, it could be you haven't learned
anything of real value.'

'Stephanie,' he said, giving a deep sigh,
'have I ever lied to you?'

'Well, not outrightly. But there've been
times you've been guilty of the sin of omission.'

'And you haven't?'

'My honesty,' she said smugly, 'is not at
issue.'

'I guess you don't need my help. Maybe I
should leave.'

'I didn't say that,' she said quickly.

'Does this mean you're calling a truce?'

'Well, perhaps an uneasy one,' she said
carefully, with obvious reluctance. She cleared her throat. 'Since
you're the expert on this place,' she said, veering the
conversation back on track, 'how about you telling me what's going
on around here?'

'Other than making a better tomato and
producing a few pharmaceuticals?' he asked.

'You mean there's more? I just had the grand
tour, and that's all I was shown.'

'And face it, what you were shown's
impressive. Giant tomatoes and giant fruit.' He paused. 'But if you
really want to be impressed, you should see their giant mice.
That's where things get veeeeerrrry interesting.'

'Their mice?'

He nodded. 'And their long-lived guppies.
And their positively radiant and youthful rats.'

She frowned. 'I didn't see any of those,'
she said slowly. 'Come to think of it, I didn't see a single
animal.'

'That's not surprising. Animal research is
kept real nice and quiet. But boy oh boy.' He took a swift sip. it
sure is impressive.'

'But why should you be privy to it? You
can't tell me you just waltzed in here and bullshitted your way
into an instant job?'

'In a nutshell, that's exactly what I did.
You'd be amazed by the staff turnover they've got. Except for the
scientific research staff, a lot of the other jobs are going
begging. After a short time, most people find this place unbearably
claustrophobic.'