The Meridian Gamble
Read The Meridian Gamble Online
Authors: Daniel Garcia
The Meridian Gamble
By Daniel David
Garcia
Text copyright © 2012
Daniel David Garcia
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by
Stirnkorb Design
Special thanks to my good friend, Amy Stirnkorb, Founder/Publisher
of Chefs Press, for lending her valuable knowledge to the creation of this book.
And for all the cupcakes. Also thanks to Dawnea Adams, for her insight
and great advice.
Chapter Thirteen: The
Paris Vampires
“Omnicom is a global corporation
with vast resources, and facilities that are on the cutting edge of technology,”
the pretty Asian woman said. “You can’t find a more ideal setting for your
work.”
“But the facilities here at the
university are perfectly suited for my research.”
“Yes, but we have the kind of
funding available that can allow you to expand your research to whatever degree
you may please. And, of course, the financial incentives will be quite
appealing for you, too,” she added, with a smug smile.
“In case it escaped your attention
while you were undoubtedly checking up on me, I’m thought to be something of a
genius,” the Professor said. “And I’ve invested my money quite well, so your
‘financial incentives’ hardly impress me. I suggest that if you’re going to try
to dazzle me with your presentation, you get to something that will, in fact,
dazzle me. Otherwise, we’re all just wasting our time.”
Professor Lawton was a wretched man
who talked down to everyone around him, but in this case, it was more than
amusing. And Abigail was grateful for the lifetimes of training that allowed
her to maintain a pleasant smile, because it was difficult not to laugh at the
way the Omnicom executive’s face screwed up as she tried in vain to bury her
disdain for his abuse.
The Professor was right about one
thing; this wasn’t going anywhere. He would never make a deal with them. Abigail
would make sure he didn’t. But in the meantime, if she had to sit through this
meeting in the small university conference room, it wouldn’t hurt her to size
up her opponents, in case they proved to be troublesome.
They weren’t vampires, none of the
telltale signs were there, so at least there was that. And had they been, she
might have been tempted to leap across the table to kill them all.
The Asian woman was clearly the
leader of the vile little group. She was doing most of the talking so far, and
had a vague air of superiority her two co-workers seemed to cower under. Her
features were pleasant enough, with hair cut above her shoulders and a cute
button nose, and she wore a blue suit that was suitably nondescript. She tried
to seem pleasant or at least professional, but Abigail had far too much
experience studying others to fall for that facade. She could tell the woman
was nothing more than a greedy little climber, even worse, one who bullied
those around her to push her way to the top. It was something in the way she
clenched her jaw just a bit too tightly, and tried to hide her contempt for
others, her rage at being forced to meet on Professor Lawton’s terms. The woman
had barely looked Abigail in the eyes when she shook her hand, no doubt
dismissing Professor Lawton’s assistant as someone insignificant. But, wouldn’t
she be surprised to learn that Abigail could snap her neck with one smooth move
before she could even blink.
Not bad for a 55 year-old woman.
The man next to her was your
typical alpha male, with blonde hair and a face that was handsome, and a smile
he offered just a bit too readily, no doubt thinking it was the only thing he
needed to charm others. But Abigail didn’t think the vampires were truly
interested in him. He wasn’t quite beautiful enough to join their ranks, and
she doubted very much he had the kind of intelligence or special gifts that
would be of use to them.
The last one was a balding lump who
weighed at least 40 pounds too much for his frame. It was actual weight, flab
and not muscle or a cleverly padded disguise. Of course, it could all be an act
to fool her. He could be the real brains of their operation. But she
suspected he truly was their subordinate from the way he deferred to the
others, and handed his business card out last, as his associates passed theirs
so proudly.
Omnicom. Abigail remembered the
name and the logo from back in the 50’s, when she was a spy in the war, even
though she was fighting a more important war on the side. In fact, she had
investigated the company herself. She remembered the chill it gave her to see
that logo, a triangle in the center of a circle, and wondered what sick
significance it held for the vampires. It must have been something important,
because they hadn’t bothered to change it in subsequent years.
Out of boredom, as the Omnicom
woman droned on fruitlessly, Abigail went over the kill order in her mind; the
blonde man first, because he seemed the most fit, then the woman, who might try
to put up a fight, and could even have some martial arts skills she had learned
at the gym, Krav Maga or basic self-defense. The bald one would be last,
finished with the palm of her hand slamming upward to his nose, splintering it
into his brain as he stared back at her with a confused expression. Of course,
it wouldn’t come to that, the executives were harmless enough on their own. But
Abigail had to admit that one thing about them frightened her; their being here
was the first time the vampires had made their presence known to her in this
lifetime. And she found it unnerving, that it was on the eve of her greatest
triumph.
Abigail broke from her reverie as
the woman came to the end of showing some slides, and seemed desperate to make
one last effort to sway the man who was her boss.
“Professor Lawton, we’re so
disappointed that you wouldn’t let us fly you up to New York in our corporate
helicopter for lunch. Perhaps if you would reconsider visiting, you could truly
see what Omnicom has to offer.”
Of course she would want to get him
to New York, so one or more of the vampires could manipulate his mind, Abigail
thought. In fact, it was surprising that they hadn’t sent a bloodsucker along,
which seemed to indicate they had no idea how far his research had progressed.
Professor Lawton shook his head in
disdain, barely looking at her.
“I’m far too busy with my work to
fly off for meetings I don’t want to attend. If anyone is disappointed it’s me,
that I have to waste these precious moments which could have been far better
spent.”
“But don’t you think that with a greater
staff and a larger budget you could accelerate your research far more quickly? Find
more diverse applications for it to benefit mankind?”
“My research is accelerating quite
nicely,” he said. “And what I feel is that your company is far more interested
lining its pockets than they are in how my research might benefit mankind.”
“But you could …”
Professor Lawton sighed in disgust,
and cut the woman off.
“The university may have
strong-armed me into taking this meeting, but they know they can’t auction off
my work to the highest bidder without my approval. Rest assured, I have no
interest in selling out to your company or any others.”
And Abigail smiled inside. The
woman looked shocked. No doubt few people ever rebuked her offers. She slowly
leaned over, and she and the blonde man traded words in Japanese, in a tone
that was low, but not so low that Abigail couldn’t hear.
She stared forward blankly,
pretending she didn’t understand, even though she had learned the language long
before any of them were born.
“We can’t go back to the board
without securing his work,” the blonde man said.
“Don’t worry, this is just the
opening of our negotiations. The university has more influence over this than
he thinks,” the woman said. “We’ll get what we want, eventually. Everyone has a
price.”
For a moment, Abigail thought they
were testing her, but they had no reason to suspect she was anything more than
just a plain, older woman with a P.H.D. in Microbiology. They couldn’t possibly
know who she really was; a member of the Luminos, their employer’s greatest
enemy, someone who had the ability to remember all the experiences and
abilities of her past lives. And it was a talent all of her people possessed,
one they had used to wage war against the vampires since the beginning of time.
But even worse for the executives
at Omnicom, they didn’t realize that Professor Lawton’s research was more than
just a promising notion, that it had reached a breakthrough. Otherwise, their
eyes would have held a look of panic for fear of what the board might do to
them when they came back empty-handed.
Because
Professor Lawton had reached his goal; he had finally managed to clone a human
blood cell.
After the meeting, Abigail found
herself driving home, hurling obscenities at the snow that fell in her path. It
constantly snowed here, what felt like all year around. She had always hated
cold places, and had refused when they asked her to move to Sweden or Iceland
or Switzerland, anywhere that sounded chilly. But living back East was a
necessary part of the plan she had created for this lifetime, a plan that was
working. And now that her schemes were drawing to a close, she could think
about moving away.
Luckily, the streets had been
cleared that day, and she’d had the foresight to pay one of the neighborhood
boys to shovel the snow from her driveway. When she got home, she was able to
click the garage door opener and quickly pull inside. Once the car was parked,
she hobbled up the front steps of her tiny house, and clicked the remote
another time, to close the door behind her. Abigail always entered through the
front door, no matter how bad the weather or how much the neighbors mocked her.
They thought she was crazy, but how could she explain that the front door
offered a better defense, because it gave a clear view into the living room and
a good chunk of the rest of the home?
How could she explain that an older
woman might have an assassin waiting for her inside? That it had happened
before, in other lifetimes.
The house seemed undisturbed when
she went in, and Abigail set her things down on the couch, and kneeled at the
fireplace. It was difficult to crouch; she felt a stiffness in her knees that
annoyed her. This body was growing old too quickly, but at least she’d been
born without disease or underlying illnesses. She’d lived more than one life
where too much time had been spent fighting such afflictions, and it was never
fun.
She threw a log onto the fireplace
grate, the kind that you bought at the supermarket, whose wrapper you could
light to get the fire going, and added a few sticks she had collected on her
own. When the flames started to crackle and burn, she went to the kitchen and
dropped a frozen lasagna in the oven. It wasn’t much, and she really should
have had some fruit and vegetables with it, but who cared at this point? She
was old. Let the Luminos dietitians worry about her health when she finally
rejoined them.
With a smile, she took a bottle of
wine from the cupboard, a very nice one she had been saving, and grabbed a
chipped mug. And she sat in front of the fireplace in her favorite easy chair,
wrapping an old blanket she left hanging on its back over her shoulders. Before
she poured herself some wine, Abigail opened the drawer of a nearby end table
and pulled out a strange little device that looked like the grip from a
bicycle’s handlebars. It had a latch at the end that revealed a red button,
like one from a video game controller. But she wasn’t playing games; this would
be her quick escape, in case of emergency.
She finally relaxed and opened the
bottle to enjoy a sip of the precious crimson fluid. And it was absolutely
delicious.
This was Abigail’s victory
celebration, of sorts. But she didn’t rejoice over the fact that Professor
Lawton had created his blood cell, or that he had refused Omnicom’s offer. Abigail
had always known he wouldn’t sell out. But weeks ago, she had convinced Dr.
Lawton to publish an article on his research in a major scientific journal,
despite the fact that it would enrage the university. And today was the day the
issue had gone to press. If she couldn’t find the Luminos again, if she
couldn’t get the discs to them, at least they would have the information they
needed.
