The Leaves in Winter (23 page)

“Did you hear his speech at
Oxford
last night?”

“
Oxford
of all places – no.”

“You need to hear it. You’re right, Mass wants to live longer – but he wants to do it in a world where humanity is back in balance with nature.”

“Don’t we all…”

“But Mass intends to get there in a single generation.”

“Even sooner,” added Hasuru ominously. “He sees fewer people as the only answer to a slew of converging crises.”

Curtis was quick to add, “For Mass, population collapse serves another purpose besides rescuing the planet. It’s the surest way to bring about global social reordering. After something of such magnitude, those who have advance warning will be prepared to pick up the pieces and enforce a newly designed social order.”

Hasuru added, “And Mass has
GenLET
. He’ll live a long time to see his global plan implemented the way he wants.”

Heinrich was bemused but interested by the other men’s fervor. “Really. Even if this were true, he’s not the only one with
GenLET
. We still have skin in the game.”

Curtis returned to his central point. “Years ago when Mass walked out he said we had no sense of urgency. We watched him agree with André Bolard – that desperate acts were needed to save the planet.”

Heinrich shook his head. “You will not convince The Group to move against Mass, if that’s what you’re up to.” Heinrich stared at Curtis. “Too many members have followed the squabbles between you two over the years. Anything you suggest will be seen as a personal vendetta. Nothing more. At this point, you’re not only personal rivals; more importantly, you’re business competitors.”

“You’re right. I came to the same conclusion months ago.” Curtis stood and strolled to the window. “But that was before my trip to
Africa
.”

Heinrich glanced at Hasuru in puzzlement then back to Curtis. “The connection escapes me. Is this about COPE, your Communities of Population Expertise?”

Curtis glanced away from the window. He looked to Hasuru for a sign. Should they broach the mystery topic before everyone was assembled? The conversation’s momentum made it a foregone conclusion. Still, Curtis needed to see buy-in.

Hasuru’s nod was infinitely shallow – but evident.

Curtis turned from the window and walked back to the table. Leaning forward on closed fists, he unloaded in Heinrich’s direction.

“A couple days ago, a woman in
Burkina Faso
died after receiving a combination MIOVAC vaccine delivered by microneedle. This new batch of vaccine is being stockpiled on three continents but healthcare workers have instructions not to use it. Not yet.”

“So how did she get it?”

“A worried husband was desperate enough to break in and steal it.”

Heinrich remained puzzled. “Are you saying the vaccine killed her?”

“No. It’s more complicated than that.”

“You’re sure it’s MIOVAC – from
Mass.
”

“Yes.” Curtis sat down across from Heinrich. “I got samples, including blood.”

“Such timing,” quipped Heinrich. “Such luck…”

“More like fate.”

“The analysis is complete?”

Curtis nodded. “The vaccine didn’t kill her. The vaccine is MIOVAC’s standard combination package – but we found something new in the preservative used with the microneedles.”

Heinrich’s interest was piqued. “The preservative?”

“Only someone familiar with the 1st Protocol base would recognize it.”

“What is it?”

“A catalyst designed to work with a
new
Protocol. A key for a missing lock. The design copies work done at MIT. The catalyst is a nanoparticle, wrapped in a time release agent, then covered in a water molecule to disguise it from the body’s immune system.”

“What’s the point?”

“In the presence of the new Protocol, and only then, the key matches the lock. Nanoparticles are released.”

“Then what?”

“The immune system shuts down – giving the new Protocol a clear shot at the body.”

Heinrich took a moment to let it sink in.

Hasuru reiterated. “The preservative is a trigger for an immunosuppressant. The vaccine was designed to be normal unless it interacts with this new Protocol. In this case, it didn’t work out that way.”

Curtis was adamant. “The lab is certain of it. We spotted it because we know what the 1st Protocol base looks like. Anyone else would miss it. They’d only see a new preservative for a microneedle delivery system.”

Heinrich wavered. “So this has nothing to do with the woman’s death.”

Curtis shouted. “No! That’s not the point. Don’t you get it? There’s no reason for Mass to design a key without also designing the lock. This is being staged in preparation for something, something big.”

“What exactly? If Mass is staging a new Protocol, what does it do? Did you find out?”

“No, but from the vaccine it’s designed to work with, we know it’s clever and elegant. If a pandemic hits and people rush in panic to be immunized, it’ll be the vaccines that suppress the immune system. That’ll make the new Protocol’s job that much easier.”

Hasuru drove home the insidiousness of it all. “Those who aren’t killed right away by the Protocol will be at the mercy of tuberculosis or diphtheria or meningitis or any one of a dozen diseases that kill millions around the world. What better way to collapse the population?”

Curtis added, “What better way to confuse the world as to what’s going on.”

Heinrich was somber. “Can I see your results?”

“Of course.”

Curtis emphasized, “We don’t have immunity to a 3rd Protocol. But you know Mass has to have engineered one for a select few.”

Hasuru grimaced. “Have you considered the fact that he might know that
GenLET
secrets have gotten out but he’s not concerned; he knows 3rd Protocol will likely eliminate anyone else who acquired it without his approval.”

“Malcolm might have been right after all,” mused Curtis. “We can’t let Mass get away with this. If there’s no other way, we have to take him out.”

Heinrich took in a deep breath then released it. “The mystery is revealed.”

“I see no other way.”

“I see your concern, but you’ll never get The Group to step over the line. They won’t go that far.”

Curtis locked gazes with the German. “He’s going to do it. You know he is. What choice do we have?”

After a deathly silence, Hasuru asked Heinrich, “What exactly did Malcolm tell you Mass was working on?”

Heinrich said nothing for a long while. When he finally spoke, he dropped his gaze to his empty plate.

“3rd Protocol.”

Chapter 22

General de Gaulle Place

Marseille
,
France

The spinning carousel cast a warm glow into winter’s twilight. Sounds of children’s laughter blurred against the pulse of city streets. Paces away from the frivolity, Janis Insworth stood beneath a street lamp hugging her coat close. Turning away from the sting of cold ocean air, she watched as pedestrians flowed up and down La Canebière.

Behind her, a male voice drew near. “Waiting for someone?”

Startled, Janis turned to find a man standing inches away. His demeanor was relaxed but serious. English was his second language, Marseille his home. Taken by surprise, she said nothing. All at once, nerves took over. Her mind went blank.

His hands dug deeper into the pockets of his charcoal pea coat. He shrugged.

“Pardon me. I’m supposed to meet a woman here. She’s in the market for a luxury craft. A boat.”

As he turned to go, Janis found her voice. “Yes, that’s right!”

The man changed direction. “Janis?”

She nodded.

The man took a couple steps away. “Let’s walk.” He glanced up into the glare of the streetlamp. “Standing here might be…bad for business.”

Janis held her ground. “Where to?” Her suspicion was obvious.

“Rue Saint-Ferréol. Lots of shoppers. Very public.”

The Rue Saint-Ferréol shopping promenade was only a block away. Janis was familiar with it from an excursion earlier in the day. She felt it would be safe. The two of them walked side-by-side. Unsure of the situation, she said nothing.

The man was suddenly cordial. “Is this your first visit to Marseille?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve come a long way. What made you think of coming here?”

“I think both of us have something the other one wants.”

“Whatever we’ve got to say to each other should be done quickly.”

“Agreed. I don’t want this to take longer than it needs to.”

They turned down Rue Saint-Ferréol, a narrow straightaway lit by shop windows on either side. The man slowed the pace. His attitude hardened.

“You’ve got me curious. That’s the only reason why I’m here. What could you have that I would want?”

Janis turned and stopped at a shop window away from other shoppers. The man drew to her side and pretended to window shop. Janis spoke in whispers.

“You’ve had a hard time convincing people that life extension is a bad thing.”

“Sooner or later, people have to wake up. The fact remains, only the rich and powerful will get it. When they do, there’ll be two kinds of humans – gods and mortals.”

“Why do so many people believe they are going to be one of the gods?”

“People are deluded. Hope is a strong force.”

“And you think your tactics so far are going to convince them otherwise?”

“I bring attention to the fact: seven billion people aren’t going to get
GenLET
.”

“I take it you don’t believe in the
New World Harmony
.”

The man was gruff. “That’s code for a new social order, the final solution, the complete management of man. Thanks to people like you.”

“Me?”

“Scientists are naïve. They’ll create anything just because they can.”

“Then we give it to people like Eugene Mass. Is that it?”

With mention of the name, the man’s anger flared. “Why are we here?”

Janis turned from the shop window to face him. “Mass is preparing to collapse the world’s population. I have proof. I’ll give it to you in exchange for my daughter.”

“Whatever would he want to do that for? His thing is life extension.”

“I guess he wants to live a long life – in a new kind of world. In some ways, he agrees with you. People are killing the planet. His solution – fewer people.”

The news took the man off-guard. He turned and walked away lost in thought.

Janis paced along at his side. “Riya Basu discovered the plot and was killed to keep it from getting out. Same thing with Malcolm Stowe.”

“That’s not what the tabloids are saying.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I did an internet search on your name today. I found several sources that claim the three of you were in a love triangle. They say jealousy killed Riya.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“All the same, it’s out there. By the way, Indian authorities are still eager to talk with you. They don’t like the fact you ran out on them.”

Janis’ mind raced. “That’s convenient for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“What about the police in
Stockholm
? They’ve gone on record saying they believe members of New Class Order killed Riya.”

“Yeah, well, that’s no longer their only possibility.”

“Did New Class Order plant these rumors about me?”

“Why should we take the fall? We didn’t kill Riya.”

“I should believe that?”

“Why would we do such a thing? It’s bad PR, driving people away from our message.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Admit it – there are radical elements within New Class Order you can’t control.”

“All I care about is what the police and the public believe.”

“So shift the blame.”

“Shift it back where it belongs, on Mass and the people who work for him.”

“But why me?”

“It’s perfectly plausible, all about sex and violence – the public will eat it up.”

Exasperated, Janis shook her head. “All you’ve done is make it harder to expose what Mass is planning. Now, people won’t know what to believe.”

“Doesn’t matter. People think they believe what they want to believe. In reality, they believe what they’re told. Fortunately for me, they like sordid tales.”

“What’s more sordid than murdering six billion people?”

“You have proof of that…”

“Riya had proof. Before she died, she gave it to Malcolm.”

“But Malcolm is dead.”

“Before he died, he gave it to me.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t like that progression. No wonder you want to get rid of this thing you call proof.”

“I want my daughter.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you want to bring down Mass. I have the way to do it. Pretend all you want but your campaign against
GenLET
isn’t working. You need something else.”

“I take it you won’t trade your proof until you get your daughter.”

“That’s right.”

“I’d need to verify this proof. How do I know what you have is genuine unless I have a way to confirm it?”

Janis produced paperwork from her pocket. “I’ve brought sample redacted pages, enough to demonstrate its value.”

The man stopped walking, turned, and drew closer. He took the offered pages and stepped closer to a shop window to read them.

Janis studied the changes in expression on his face. Curiosity became genuine interest, then surprise. Wiping his face clean of emotion. he handed the pages back and walked on. Unexpectedly, there was an aura of menace and mischief about him.

“I have to confess. I didn’t search the Internet for you. There are no stories out there about your love triangle. I made that up.”

“I don’t understand…”

He smiled. “I wanted to see how you’d react. I needed to impress on you the importance of this. You’ll leverage anything to get your daughter back. Likewise, I’ll leverage anything to move my agenda forward.”

“Are you threatening me? Cooperate or you’ll spread rumors of a love triangle to implicate me in murder?”

“You came prepared to negotiate. So did I.”

“Riya’s proof is all I’ve got to give. What else do you want to negotiate for?”

The man restarted their walk. “You’re a scientist. Eventually, you’ll go back to the lab. There’s still work to do. You need to perfect
GenLET
.”

Janis was wide-eyed. “You want
GenLET
?”

“No. But I want to know what’s going on with it. I want regular reports on its status. What’s possible, how it works, its limitations, its weaknesses.”

“How does that help you?”

“I’m a realist. I hold no allusions about my chances at stopping the powerful few from getting what they want. When they do, the game will change. With it, so will the rules. I need to know what I’m up against and how to fight it.”

“I’m not signing up to be your source of information forever.”

“Then we have no deal.”

“Do you want the proof or not?”

“Sure I do. But that’s not all. If you want your daughter, I need assurances you’ll give me ongoing reports about
GenLET
. I need someone on the inside. I need to know what’s possible with life extension, and what isn’t – the same way Eugene Mass knows it. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

“You’re admitting you have Alyssa…?”

“I’m telling you I can get her for you.”

“How soon?”

“When can you have all the pages – without redaction?”

“Tonight.”

“Very well. Meet me back by the carousel at 9 o’clock.”

“You’ll need to bring something that proves you have access to Alyssa.”

“No problem. But let’s be straight about this. I want the proof but I also want ongoing reports from you. If you’re not willing to do both, don’t bother coming.”

Janis nodded and the man leaned in closer. “And don’t think you’re going to get your daughter and forget about the ongoing reports. Do that and you’ll see love triangle stories popping up all over the Internet.”

“A kidnapper and blackmailer…”

The man’s sudden grin became a grimace.

Just then, four men in suits converged on them from front and back.

In French and English, they shouted orders. “Arrêt! Restez où vous êtes. Police! Turn around. Show your hands…”

“What is this!” The man stiffened as two detectives grabbed him by the arms.

“You’re under arrest…both of you.” One of the men flashed a badge.

The other two plainclothes officers took hold of Janis. Before she could speak, both of them were hustled back down Rue Saint-Ferréol under the watchful gazes of startled shoppers and passerby. With a relentless urgency, the detectives rushed Janis into the backseat of an unmarked car. The other two officers frisked the man with her and put him in a separate car. Janis craned her neck around in time to see the other car driving off in another direction.

“Where are you taking me? What’s this about!” Her cries were ignored.

Silent, the detectives sat out the ride with steely-eyed determination. Down side streets and into an underground parking structure they flew. After a ride in an elevator and escorted walk down a hallway, Janis found herself in an interrogation room facing a metal table. It was bare except for one object – Malcolm’s laptop. Seeing it laid out by itself stunned her with waves of panic.

The door opened and a middle-aged man in suit and tie strolled in. In his hand was an open file folder. Closing it, he looked up. “Janis Insworth…”

Incensed at being ignored in the car, Janis breathed heavily and said nothing.

“A tourist in our fine city, I suppose…” Janis kept silent. The man sat down opposite her. “For a tourist, you keep company with the oddest people.”

“Who are you?” demanded Janis. “What agency is this?”

The man dropped the folder onto the laptop and eased back. “Direction Centrale du Renseignement Intérieur. You would call it the Central Directorate of Internal Intelligence. My name is François Dufray.”