Invisible Things (20 page)

“This person clearly intended,” continued Nobel, sounding stronger again now, though Arne was looking worried, “to capture an even larger share of the market for munitions than I had—and this person did not share my way of thinking about weapons as deterrents to violence, but instead gloried in their use.”

“Why do you think this person must be Elsa Blix, though?” Sophie persisted.

“Here is Elsa Blix with the plans seemingly in her possession—she certainly showed my representatives enough pages to convince me the claim was true—and an offer on the table. She would give me the missing bits, she said, in return for my concession of a massive tranche of shares in various companies I control. My companies are structured in a relatively unusual fashion, beyond most people’s understanding or knowledge, but this offer showed an exceptional grasp of the corporate governance structures—in other words, of exactly which holdings would give their possessor the most control throughout my empire.”

“Do you think she took the plans with her long ago when she left the factory?” Sophie asked.

“I think something much worse than that. I have come to believe it may have been Blix herself who instigated the explosion. I suspect that she was behind the sabotage at the factory. I believe that after she had gone, she continued to maneuver behind the scenes to pressure your father into changing his mind about selling the weapon to another purchaser, one who had actual intentions of using it. And I believe that when it finally dawned on her that your father was not going to budge, she took more drastic measures. If the weapon could not be possessed by those she thought deserved it, neither would it come into my ownership—and she resolved to blow the factory to kingdom come.”

“But what basis do you have for saying this?” Sophie cried out. In some ways, she wanted it very badly to be true—it was awful, but it would at least make sense of her parents’ deaths. “Have you any evidence? It could perfectly well be pure speculation!”

“The matter cannot be resolved on the basis of the information currently in my possession,” Nobel admitted. “To return to the developments of recent days, it became clear that negotiations would not reach a successful conclusion. Blix was frustrated that I was not there myself—she made my presence a new condition of continuing to treat with me. I was unwilling to invite a hostile stranger to contemplate my present condition of physical weakness, so that was not an option, but though I insisted that the group of executives in Stockholm was empowered to negotiate on my behalf, the conversation broke down on the third day. At the time she encountered you and Mikael, Sophie, she had already announced the cancellation of any intention to hand over the plans.”

“But why has she taken Mikael?” Sophie exclaimed. This elaborate account did not offer any enlightenment. “What can she want with him?”

“This, we will ask the lady herself,” Arne said, tapping his watch and going over to make a few adjustments on a machine Sophie hadn’t especially singled out, full as the room was with all sorts of medical equipment. She now saw the typewriter-like apparatus of an old-fashioned teletype, and a moment later the humming began that signaled transmission of a message over the lines.

The words appeared letter by letter on a screen that was large enough for Sophie to read, and that seemed to feed directly into Nobel’s sensory equipment, because he spoke in response to the sentences that appeared, and the machine itself transcribed his words.

NOBEL, ARE YOU READY TO MEET ME FACE-TO-FACE?

IMPOSSIBLE.

THEN THERE IS NO TREATING WITH YOU.

ON THE CONTRARY. I HAVE FOUND AN EMISSARY TO SEND ON MY BEHALF, ONE ON WHOM I BESTOW ALL OF MY OWN AUTHORITY TO NEGOTIATE.

I ALREADY MET WITH YOUR MINIONS IN STOCKHOLM. I HAVE NO INTEREST IN PROXIES.

THIS IS DIFFERENT.

HOW?

I AM SENDING YOU MY GRANDDAUGHTER.

The pause that followed was long enough that Sophie started to wonder whether the machine was still working. After almost a minute, the letters began appearing again.

YOU DO NOT HAVE A GRANDDAUGHTER.

I HAVE A GRANDDAUGHTER. HER NAME IS SOPHIE HUNTER. SHE WAS THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE RUSSIAN ACCIDENT THAT KILLED ALAN AND ROSE HUNTER; SHE IS THEIR ONLY CHILD.

SOPHIE HUNTER—BUT ALAN HUNTER . . . DOES THAT MEAN HE WAS YOUR SON?

I AM NO LIAR.

Another pause ensued, and then the words began again.

SEND HER TO ME.

WILL YOU PROMISE TO KEEP HER SAFE?

I WILL NOT HARM HER.

SHE WILL DISCUSS THE MATTER OF HER FATHER’S WORK WITH YOU, BUT THERE IS ANOTHER THING THAT CONCERNS US: THE BOY YOU TOOK FROM STOCKHOLM.

THE BOY?

THE BOY IS SOPHIE’S FRIEND, AND THE BROTHER OF MY CLOSE ASSOCIATE ARNE PETERSEN.

HOW AMUSING! WAS THAT SOPHIE, THEN, THAT SLIM LITTLE DARK-HAIRED THING IN THE MUSEUM LOBBY? I WILL NOT PREVENT HER FROM SEEING THE BOY, BUT IT WILL BE UP TO HIM WHETHER HE WANTS TO GO AWAY WITH HER AGAIN.

ARNE WILL ACCOMPANY SOPHIE ON HER TRAVELS.

NO! I WILL RECEIVE SOPHIE, AND SOPHIE ALONE. ASSUMING SHE CAN GET AS FAR AS LONGYEARBYEN, I WILL SEND SOMEONE TO GUIDE HER THE REST OF THE WAY.

IT IS TOO DANGEROUS! YOU CANNOT EXPECT SUCH A YOUNG GIRL TO TRAVEL ALONE.

SHE WILL DO PERFECTLY WELL; YOU MAY RETAIN SOME LOCAL AGENT TO ACCOMPANY HER FOR SOME PART OF THE WAY, BUT DO NOT DARE SEND ONE OF YOUR CLOSE ASSOCIATES WITH HER, NOBEL! WE DO NOT LIKE OUTSIDERS IN THIS PART OF THE WORLD. I WILL AWAIT HER ARRIVAL WITH INTEREST.

And that was that—Nobel essayed several more remarks, but they met with no response, and at last Arne turned off the machine and said that they would get no more from Elsa Blix today.

“Of course you won’t let Sophie go,” he added.

“Of course I must go,” Sophie said, “even if it is dangerous!”

“Sophie must go,” said Nobel. “Arne, you will find someone local who can travel with her for part of the way; I leave the arrangements solely in your hands.”

“Mr. Nobel,” Sophie said tentatively, “are you really willing to have me negotiate on your behalf? How will I know what to say?”

“I believe I have no choice,” said Nobel. “Arne, I must rest. Will you escort Sophie back to her room, and ensure she is provided with all the creature comforts? Sophie, you will forgive me if I do not see you again before you leave. I must marshal my resources very carefully, and I have tapped into them more deeply already than is advisable. Your train leaves late tonight.”

“My train?”

“The first leg of your journey involves a train from here to Kiruna,” Arne said, standing up and offering Sophie his arm, which he would never usually have done but which seemed a function of the strangely courtly atmosphere created by Nobel’s manner of speaking.

“One thing more,” the voice said.

Arne and Sophie halted.

“This is no time for me to make you a serious offer. The question of Mikael’s safety will weigh heavily on your mind. But, Sophie, you must know that I consider you my heir. I have long since been prepared for death; only the snares of worldly ambition tied me to life in this body. Most of all, the atom bomb has seemed to me a piece of unfinished business. If I can close the books on that, I will be ready at long last to depart from this earth. I cannot do it without you. And in exchange for this assistance, and in recognition of the relationship between us, I have written you into my will as sole—”

“Stop!” Sophie said, covering her ears and shrinking away from the voice. “It’s too much! I don’t want it!”

“I knew it was the wrong time,” Nobel said, the voice little more than a whisper now. “Safe travels, Sophie. It is impossible to say whether we will meet again, but please believe me when I say you will be very much in my thoughts.”

As they traveled back the way they’d come, Arne stayed far enough ahead of Sophie that she had to struggle to keep up with him.

“Go slower!” she said, panting. They were practically running down the hall. He slowed down and turned to look at her.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked.

Arne did not deny it.

“It’s stupid, I know,” he said, sounding almost hopeless. “You will do everything you can to find Mikael and bring him back. But I thought I would be the one to go—how will I stand waiting to know the outcome?”

They had come to a small sitting room, and Arne rang a bell and asked the maid to bring them tea and biscuits. Once these had been set out on the table and the maid dismissed, Arne began laying out the practical arrangements concerning the train to Kiruna and how Sophie would proceed from there.

“Must I really travel alone?” she said. “Couldn’t you come with me?”

“I wish I could, Sophie,” Arne said earnestly. “It doesn’t sit at all right with me to send you off like this! But Elsa Blix is a woman of her word—if she wants you to come on your own, we must see that it happens that way. In a strange sense, she is almost a trustworthy character—violent, malevolent perhaps, but not, in my estimation, actively deceitful. And we will not be sending you without guidance—Nobel has a man in the north who will meet you at the station in Kiruna and help you to the next stage of your journey.”