Lethal Circuit (16 page)

“Look, we don’t have a lot of time here. I was lucky to get you away from Rand’s guys at all so I’m going to get straight to the point. You’re on a level of the lab that as far as the rest of world is concerned, isn’t here. Why it’s here I’ll save for another time, but for now, just know that Rand had you arrested because we traced your hack. He figures you’re more bother than you’re worth. I know better. That’s why I’m bringing you into the fold.”

“So am I under arrest or not?”

“If Rand gets his way, probably. There’s no gray area with him. As far as he’s concerned, you became a security breach the minute you broke protocol and hacked into the system. His job is to plug the hole.”

“Did he remember bringing me into the loop? Did he not expect me to be curious?”

“I get it, Mobi. We’ll deal with Rand later. What you need to know now is that we’ve been engaged in a space race of sorts with the Chinese for a number of years now. That prototype below? That's our interpretation of the Horten — not the plane itself, but the cold fusion reactor it contained. It looks a little different because we had to make modifications to the original plans, but it’s largely irrelevant now. What is relevant is what you already know — that the Chinese version of the Horten reactor complete with a secondary plutonium coil is on a crash course with LA County.”

“What can we do?”

“Listen carefully.” Alvarez eyed the hallway outside her office to ensure they were alone. “Rand is here because he thinks he knows how to deal with the problem. He wants to use one of the DOD’s orbital anti-satellite weapons platforms to blow the Chinese bird out of the sky.”

“Which would be a good plan if it worked,” Mobi said. “Except word is the last time they deployed one of their ASAT platforms, it couldn’t hit the broad side of the moon. And I mean that literally.”

Alvarez lowered her voice. “That’s why you’re here. Look, from what we know, the Chinese haven’t so much built a new reactor as reverse engineered what was left of the Horten found in that rice paddy. As far as we know, they don’t entirely understand what they’ve done. Our sources tell us that they haven’t changed much about the project. They weren’t able to isolate the original communications system from the reactor control, for instance. Instead they just built a new shell, added a few processors, and stuck the whole damn thing on the end of a rocket. Call me crazy, but I’m betting that if we can establish communication with its onboard mainframe, we can keep it in the sky.”

Mobi considered Alvarez’s words. He tended to smile when he was nervous and what Alvarez had said put a grin on his face.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I wouldn’t call it a laugh.”

“Spill it, Mobi.”

“You’re telling me you want me to establish communication with their satellite.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re also telling me that this thing’s communications systems date back to World War II.”

“Like I said, yes.”

Mobi shook his head. “You know the Chinese are cautious. Who knows what kind of encryption protocols are in place? If it’s an analog system, and given its age I don’t see how it isn’t, we’re talking about infinite variations. To break that kind of encryption I need a strand, a thread, something to start parsing their code. What possible resource can you offer me to do that?”

“This is where you listen very carefully.”

“I’m hearing you.”

“Quiann,” Alvarez said.

“What?” Mobi asked incredulous.

“I can offer you Doctor Jie Quiann.”

D
OCTOR
J
IE
Q
UIANN
was a legend. He was infamous in the halls of JPL and Mobi knew the man’s career path by rote. A brilliant young mathematician who had been born in China, but claimed refugee status in the USA just after the Second World War, Quiann had soon found his way to California and Caltech where he began his career as a Doctoral Candidate in Applied Physics. From there, Quiann’s career trajectory had been straight up and he soon became one of the world’s preeminent rocket scientists. That, however, was a long time ago. Because before Mobi was even born, Dr. Quiann had defected back to China where he had single handedly founded his mother country’s space program. Nobody knew what spawned his defection; if he had been a plant from his first arrival on US soil, or if he had simply longed for the county which he had left behind, but whatever the case, Quiann went on to become a bona fide hero to the Chinese people.

As such, even if little known amongst average Americans, he was an embarrassment to the US government and the alma mater which trained him. What made the sting of Quiann’s defection particularly acerbic, however, was not the general technical know-how that he had brought back with him years ago. Any number of rocket scientists could have taken those secrets to China. It was the project Quiann was chosen to lead — the Horten Cold Fusion Project — and all that entailed. Many considered cold fusion technology to be key to the long term exploration of space and when Quiann defected in the late-nineteen fifties, a whole lot of research was said to have left with him; potentially dangerous research that many people feared he had yet to share with his colleagues.

From that point, Mobi’s knowledge of Quiann was sketchy at best, which is what made Alvarez’s mention of him seem odder still. It wasn’t like Mobi had a relationship with him, or knew him beyond the lore. In Mobi’s mind Quiann was an infamous footnote, a piece of JPL history that had been all but forgotten to this moment. What could Alvarez possibly expect to achieve by means of illicit communication with a known traitor? But Mobi didn’t have long to think about it, because before he could even fire the question back at Alvarez, Rand and his men had marched into the room.

26

T
HERE
WERE
SOME
things Michael’s dad didn’t bother telling him much about at all. Like sex. Michael’s dad never talked to Michael about sex. He never told him about the birds and the bees, or what he should expect his first time, or what he should do not to get a girl pregnant. Michael knew that the other kids’ fathers had had this talk with them and he wondered why his dad hadn’t. Finally, Michael didn’t want to wait any longer. So he asked his dad. Not about sex. But about why his father hadn’t told him about sex. When Michael’s dad asked him what he wanted to know, Michael said nothing in particular, he just wanted to know why they hadn’t had the talk.

 
Michael’s dad was very clear. He said that sex was one of those things that if you had to ask about, you probably weren’t ready to hear. It was a cruel irony. But a lot of life was like that. And understanding the irony was far more important than any father-son chat about the birds and the bees. Because Michael could learn everything he needed to know about sex on his own in about five minutes flat. But life’s ironies took a lifetime to comprehend. And it was only through conversations like this one that his dad would be able to point the way.

M
ICHAEL
WAS
EXHAUSTED
. They’d made it back to their room at the Whispering Bamboo, but he doubted he’d be able to sleep. He was beyond that. Beyond anything really.

“What are you doing?”

Kate, who had entered the room a step ahead of him, had stripped the mattress off her bed and now held it folded like an accordion between her arms.

“What does it look like?” she said, plopping the mattress down on top of Michael’s. “I’m doubling up the mattress.”

“For who?”

“For who do you think, Michael? Don’t be such a prude. We’ve each got a sleeping bag. Maybe this way we can actually get some sleep.” Kate unrolled her sleeping bag and lay down atop the double mattress staring at the ceiling. “Much better.” She rolled onto her side so she could face Michael. “What do you think about Ted?”

“What about him?”

“Showing up on the bridge the way he did. Saving our asses. His timing was a little too perfect.”

“I don’t know if I’d be throwing stones, Kate. You’re telling me you had no idea Ted used to be Agency?”

“Agency. Listen to you now. You’re talking the talk.” Michael shot her a look and Kate relented. “I met him for the first time the other night at Chungking. Crust invited him. I swear.”

“Well he seemed to know all about you. He didn’t blink when I told him what you did for a living.”

“Your father must have said something.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Stop deflecting the issue. Your dad revealed a confidence. Case closed. It doesn’t change my concerns about Ted.”

Michael looked to Kate. The bare bulb in the sconce was flickering now as if the connection was loose. “Whatever you’re suggesting, one thing I know is, I’ve known Ted for a long time. He might not have been straight with me until tonight about him and my dad, but I know I can trust him. I always have. Okay?”

Michael got up and turned the flickering bulb off. The only light in the room now bled in through the wooden shutters leaving striations across the bed.

“Okay.”

“Really? That’s it? You’re satisfied? No skulking around to find out what he’s really up to? No spy stuff? Because I like to keep in practice you know. Espionage is a 24-7 game. You got to keep your groove on.”

“You do that. I’m flossing my teeth. After that I’m brushing. Then I’m going to bed.”

M
ICHAEL
DID
ONE
better than brush his teeth and took a shower, luxuriating under the mercifully hot water as it washed away the past days’ sweat and grime. He hadn’t had an opportunity to bathe since Seattle and he was pretty sure it showed. Michael’s mind was on more than hygiene though. It was on Kate. She was an attractive woman. There was no denying it. Still, he didn’t know her. He didn’t know who she was or what she was capable of; he didn’t really know anything about her at all. And he knew that what he didn’t know was dangerous. It could get him killed. But the thing was, it also excited him. It excited him to the point that he was willing to take the risk.

The hot water cleansed what was left of the soapy lather on his skin. He’d have a long day tomorrow. It was time to turn in. Michael reached for the rough copper valve when he noticed something unusual. His towel. Through the gap in the shower curtain he could see it hanging there but something was off. It was on the wrong hook. It had been moved, he was sure of it. Now the bathroom wasn’t secure, Michael knew that. There was no more than a push button on the door. You could pop it with a credit card. But if someone was in there with him, they had also been quiet. Silent like a thief in the night. Like a professional. Then the wooden floor creaked. He heard that. A shadow was cast across the room.

Michael looked around. He was wet and naked with little more than a travel sized shampoo bottle in way of weapon. A shampoo bottle and a shower rod. The miniature bottle was useless. The shower rod might offer some utility, but it was bolted to the wall. He couldn’t risk not being able to get it out. No, this situation called for the direct approach. There was a lack of information and as such Michael knew that his only play was to own the element of surprise. Michael moved his hands toward the copper valve as if he was about to shut off the stream of water. But he didn’t shut it off. Instead he turned his body tight against the valve and reached powerfully through the crack in the shower curtain, taking hold of his assailant with his left hand. Michael immediately found purchase on a firm upper arm and blindly wrenched his attacker into the shower stall.

His next move would be a choke hold and Michael twisted back with his grappling arm and raised his right arm in preparation to subdue the intruder. But then he stopped. Because there was no intruder. There was only Kate looking shocked and more than a little frightened in a terry cloth robe. Michael released her.

“Don’t you knock?” Michael shouted.

“Don’t you listen?” The hot water was raining down on both of them now, Michael’s pulse slowing. “I knocked ten times. When I got nothing I carded the lock. The other bathroom is full.”

“Why’d you move my towel?”

“Because it was getting soaked.”

Kate too, was wet now, her robe dripping wet under the shower’s steady stream. Hot water ran down her long auburn hair, her eyes moist in the steam. Michael felt his pulse quicken again. But it wasn’t danger doing it this time. It was desire. He was close. Close enough to feel Kate’s firm breasts pressing against him from under her robe. She turned away from him and Michael’s heart sank. He knew that leaving it alone was the right thing to do, the prudent thing. He didn’t know this woman. He did know that getting involved with her would complicate what was already a messy situation. And that was on the good end of things. If things worked out differently it could be worse. Much worse. Besides, they had to work together. It was better to keep it simple. Michael reached for the faucet, shutting off the stream of hot water. Then he reached for his towel. It would end here, now. Any awkwardness they could discuss in the morning.

Or they could have, if Kate hadn’t dropped her robe.

She stood there, her back to him, water running down the nape of her neck and Michael knew in the pit of his gut that this was not way the night was supposed to go. But when she turned to him, tight to his body in the confined space of the shower stall, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now but the moment. Michael pulled her close and in that instant her lips found his. Kate opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to meet him. He kissed her. Slowly at first, then deeper and harder. She tasted salty, like the Pacific, and Michael liked it. He liked it a lot. He could feel her heart beating close to his own as he ran his hand down her perfectly contoured back. Kate purred softly, her response gentle but immediate. She took his hand in hers and continued to guide it up her soft skin until Michael’s palm found her firm round breast. His hands slid down lower and he pulled her tighter, his hungry mouth finding her breasts, followed by her neck, then back to her lips.