Shadow of Eden (13 page)

Hinojosa aimed his camera at a plaque on Morloch’s desk and shot a quick series of exposures. Fontaine glanced over and saw that it was a quote:
All great things must first wear horrifying and monstrous masks, in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity
–
F. Nietzsche. She mentally shrugged, not sure of its meaning, but made a note to ask back at the office.

“With the millions of women who can’t live without your drug,” Fontaine continued, “I’d say it is a gift from heaven.”

Morloch nodded graciously. “That’s why we call it Eden.”

Chapter 25

T
he intercom buzzed in Secretary Resnick’s office. “The Vice-President’s here to see you.”

“Show him in, please.” Linda took off her reading glasses and slipped her Rolaids back into her lap drawer.

“Linda,” John Sullivan greeted her as he walked in. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. I know how busy you must be.”

She smiled, coming around her desk to shake his hand, “Not at all, Mr. Vice-President. Have a seat.” She motioned to the small conference table. “Something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” he said, sitting down. Linda brought her glass of water to the table and joined him.

The Vice-President cleared his throat. “I won’t keep you long, but you didn’t have a chance to comment on yesterday’s DEFCON decision. I wanted to hear your thoughts about it.”

She looked at Sullivan’s strong features, just starting to lose their edge with his sixty-odd years. His graying temples gave him the appearance of a statesman and he had the credentials to back that up, having served as ambassador to Sweden and Japan, following his eighteen years in the House.

“These things never occur in isolation, as you know,” she began. “Especially strategic moves like this. The NATO members are angry with us; more so, it seems, than with Beijing.” Fatigue crept into her voice. “I’ve been telling everyone that it’s purely a defensive move—with a mixed response.”

“Best crystal ball opinion?”

“We play word games for awhile and then it thaws. That’s the rational outcome. For the irrational, you’d better call Vegas.”

“But you have to plan for the irrational. Especially since the massacre was irrational.”

“Was it?” Linda rejoined. “From our perspective, it was murder at its government- sponsored worst; but to the Chinese, it might be a logical reaction to a threatening populist movement. Plus, my analysts think that it’s an internal show of strength for the hard liners.”

Sullivan spoke carefully. “What I know about the evolving Chinese government mentality is more rather than less sensitivity to Chinese popular opinion.”

“Yes. That’s why this massacre was such a surprise, but there’s probably a thread of reasoning underneath the surface that makes sense to China’s rulers that isn’t apparent to us.”

“What George said about a divided government bothers me. It’s dangerous. What do we know about this new Premier Chow. He’s a little . . . umm . . . green. Your call?”

“That’s our take. A populist who appeals to the public.”

“A compromise candidate?” Sullivan asked.

“At least. I was very surprised when they picked him. He might be a straw man.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh? In theory, there are always puppet masters behind the scenes, but since Deng, there has been no faction strong enough to put up someone simply as their order-taker.”

“Chow’s weak, John. He doesn’t look, from what we know, like he can stand up to the entrenched powers. My China desk thinks his base is too narrow and doesn’t include the military. His populism may actually be a liability.”

Sullivan nodded. “I’ve heard that, too.”

“We’ve analyzed every identified faction in the Government, but the situation is fluid enough that we don’t know who is really in charge and with whom we should negotiate. Now, China’s charting new political territory, which must make them nervous. That said, my estimates agree with George’s, that General Yao is behind much of the recent mischief.”

“And your conclusion about the DEFCON move?”

Linda sighed. “I still have reservations and the jump to level three was more than we needed. It serves the hardliner’s agenda and polarizes the government and people against us.

“Official China response?” Sullivan asked. “Since it was directed at them.”

“Nothing yet. It usually takes them a day to respond. There was a surprising lack of initial posturing from Ambassador Gung, almost to the point of his expecting it. Perhaps that was part of the hard liners’ plans.”

Sullivan looked at the Secretary of State for a long moment before standing up. “Thank you, Linda, for helping me understand these issues. I’ll get out of your hair and let you get on with your day.”

“John?”

“Yes?”

“Taiwan. What’s your take on the President’s intentions?”

Sullivan thought for a moment. “It is the stated policy of the U.S. Government to support Taiwan, without recognizing it as an independent nation, but of course, you know that. I don’t think that has changed. Why?”

“I wonder if the President is considering recognizing it.”

“Hmm.” Sullivan pursed his lips. “I expect not.”

Chapter 26

“S
teve, can you make me some coffee?” Anne called from her desk in their home office.

“Sure, honey.” Steve and Johnnie were huddled over a paper airplane they were constructing together. Johnnie drew ‘USAF’ on each wing with a dark blue marker pen. “You’ve got it just about perfect, Sport,” Steve said, getting up from the kitchen floor where they had spread out their project.

“Can I have some too?” Johnnie asked. “Please, please, please?”

“Sure, Son.” Within a few minutes, the fragrant smell of hot decaf coffee filled the kitchen. Lining up three cups, Steve poured the dark brown liquid into each, only spilling a little. He had never mastered the knack of dripless pouring. Anne, of course, was a pro.

“Sugar.” Johnnie called out without looking up, intent on his airplane decorations. The plane actually flew pretty well and after Steve had shown him some paperclip weighting techniques, it flew even farther.

Steve spooned a generous helping of sugar into Johnnie and Anne’s cups. Picking up the gallon jug of milk, he poured enough in his and Anne’s cup to color the coffee a light brown and started to add milk to Johnnie’s, remembering too late that his son didn’t like creamer. Oh, well, Steve thought looking at the color; it was only slightly lightened. He slid it in front of his son. Taking a testing sip from his wife’s mug, he carefully walked back to the study.

“Hi, Stevie,” Anne flipped her black hair behind her shoulders and smiled at him. “Thanks for cleaning up and letting me work.”

“You’re welcome, Baby.” Steve bent over and kissed the top of her head.

“You didn’t eat anything at supper.” Her eyes looked concerned.

“I nibbled while I put the dinner together,” Steve lied. “You didn’t see everything.”

“Yeah, sure,” Anne snorted. “Ever since you got back, you haven’t eaten or slept properly. Let’s get you to bed early tonight.”

“Hanky-panky?” Steve’s hand slipped down her tee shirt, cupping her right breast. She didn’t have a bra on and her nipple stiffened under his touch.

She held his hand tightly to her chest. “Sure, Studly Do-Right, but afterwards, you have to get some sleep.”

“Remember, I’m on call tonight.”

Anne made a face. “I’ll shut off that lousy beeper.”

Kerry, their mostly golden retriever, rescued years ago from the pound, pushed his head between them and whined for attention. Steve’s hand reluctantly left Anne’s breast. He knelt to rub Kerry on his favorite spot behind his ears and Kerry, attention hound that he was, looked at him with a most satisfied expression. Steve leaned over for a lick, which Kerry readily supplied. It was therapeutic. Maybe he would sleep tonight.

“Daddee!” Johnnie’s shouted complaint filtered in from the kitchen.

Steve stood up. “Right back.”

Johnnie yelled again just as Steve was entering the kitchen, slightly irritated by Johnnie’s demanding tone. “Yes, what is it?”

“Daddy,” Johnnie complained. “You got milk in my coffee.”

“Just a little bit. It tastes the same.”

“No, it doesn’t; it’s spoiled.”

“Just taste it,” Steve requested, with a little more irritation than he intended.

Johnnie made an exasperated face. “Daddy, no.”

“Why?” Steve knew it was a lost cause and turned towards the cabinet to get a fresh cup. Once Johnnie made up his mind, the argument was not only useless; it was over before it started.

Johnnie’s explanation was actually logical for a change. “Even a tiny bit spoils the whole thing.” Johnnie held the cup up to his dad. “Please?”

Steve poured a fresh cup and slid it in front of Johnnie with the sugar and a spoon. “I’m way ahead of you.”

“Not a chance, Daddy,” Johnnie replied, in one of his new stock phrases brought home from school. “You’re way behind the eight ball.”

That brought a rueful smile as a mental image of Shirley came to mind. Indeed he was.

Chapter 27

T
he phone rang somewhere on Dr. Paul Tobias’ desk. Covered as it was with papers and photocopied articles, it took four rings for him to locate it and another two to retrieve it without wrecking his improvised filing system. “Tobias.”

“Paul, it’s Ari. How’s the weather there in Philly?”

“Hey, Ari.” Paul’s face broke into a smile. “Overcast and cold. How are you?” Tobias was Trident Pharmaceutical’s Chief Medical Officer and he had been collating material for an article he was writing.

“Puzzled, that’s what. I have a strange case and I wondered if you had some insight for me.”

Paul propped the phone against his shoulder while trying to remember upon which pile the papers still in his hand were supposed to go. “I’ll try, he replied.”

“It’s about a really nice lady that I’ve known for several years, a mom with two kids in school. She has been exceptionally healthy, but recently, she came down with an aggressive encephalitis that I can’t figure out. I’ve done the full court work-up, but—nothing.”

“How serious?”

“Very. I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

“That’s too bad, Ari.”

“That’s why I called. She was on Eden for weight loss. She’s been on it for almost two years, and I was wondering if you guys have had any reports similar to hers. I know it’s a long shot.”

“What’s it like?” Paul asked, dropping the articles askew on the desk.

As his old medical school friend described the patient’s medical history and clinical features, Paul’s face lost its color.

“So, Paul what do you think?”

“Well, we don’t have any cases of anything like this linked to Eden. It would be a completely isolated case.”

Ari sighed. “I didn’t think so, but I thought since you were working there at Trident, I figured I’d ask anyway.”

Minutes later Tobias had run up two flights of stairs and into Oscar Perera’s office.

“Hi, Paul,” Oscar said, from behind his dark wood desk. Perera was Trident Pharmaceutical’s Chief Safety Officer and like Paul, was an endocrinologist. The two of them had worked closely together on Eden’s development since Trident’s early days.