Sidney Sheldon (11 page)

“And I’m in love with you.”

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
,
Tanner Kingsley was at the Pentagon, meeting with the army chief of staff, General Alan Barton.

“I thought your proposal was very interesting,” General Barton said. “We were discussing whom we were going to use for the test.”

“Your test involves micro-nanotechnology, and my brother just got a Nobel Prize for his work in it.”

“We are well aware of that.”

“He is so excited about this that he would like to do it pro bono.”

“We’re flattered, Mr. Kingsley. We don’t have many Nobel laureates offering their services.” He looked up to make sure the door was closed. “This is top secret. If it works, it’s going to be one of the most important components of our armament. Molecular nanotechnology can give us control of the physical world at the level of individual atoms. Until now, efforts to make chips even smaller than they are have been blocked by the electron interference called ‘cross talk,’ when electrons are uncontrolled. If this experiment is successful, it will give us significant new defense weapons and attack weapons.”

Tanner said, “There’s no danger to this experiment, is there? I don’t want anything to happen to my brother.”

“You need not worry. We will send over all the equipment you need, including the safe suits and two of our scientists to work with your brother.”

“Then we have a go-ahead?”

“You have a go-ahead.”

On his way back to New York, Tanner thought,
Now all I have to do is convince Andrew.

A
NDREW WAS IN
his office, looking at a colorful booklet that the Nobel Committee had sent him, along with a note: “We’re looking forward to your arrival.” There were pictures of the huge Stockholm concert hall, with the audience applauding a Nobel laureate as he walked across the stage to receive his award from King Carl XVI Gustav of Sweden.
And soon I’ll be up there,
Andrew thought.

The door opened and Tanner walked in. “We have to talk.”

Andrew set the booklet aside. “Yes, Tanner?”

Tanner took a deep breath. “I’ve just committed Kingsley Group to assist the army in an experiment they’re conducting.”

“You
what
?”

“The test involves cryogenics. They need your help.”

Andrew shook his head. “No. I can’t get involved in that, Tanner. This isn’t the sort of thing we’re doing here.”

“This isn’t about money, Andrew. This is about the defense of the
United States of America. It’s very important to the army. You’d be doing this for your country. Pro bono. They need you.”

Tanner spent another hour persuading him. Finally, Andrew gave in. “All right. But this is the last time we get off the track, Tanner. Agreed?”

Tanner smiled. “Agreed. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

H
E CALLED PRINCESS
and left a message on her voice mail. “I’m back, darling. We have a very important experiment coming up. I’ll call you when it’s over. I love you.”

T
WO ARMY TECHNICIANS
arrived to brief Andrew on the progress they had made so far. Andrew had been reluctant at first, but as they discussed the project, Andrew became more and more excited. If the problems could be solved, it would be a major breakthrough.

An hour later, Andrew watched as an army truck drove through the gates of Kingsley Group, escorted by two army staff cars, carrying armed soldiers. He went out to meet the colonel in charge of the cadre.

“Here it is, Mr. Kingsley. What do we do with it?”

“I’ll handle it from here,” Andrew said. “Just unload it and we’ll take over.”

“Yes, sir.” The colonel turned to two soldiers standing at the rear of the truck. “Let’s unload it. And be careful. I mean
very
careful.”

The men reached inside the truck and gingerly brought out a small, heavy-duty metallic carrying case.

Within minutes, two staff assistants were carrying the case into a laboratory, under Andrew’s supervision.

“On that table,” he said, “very gently.” He watched as they set it down. “Fine.”

“One of us could have carried it. It’s very light.”

“You wouldn’t believe how heavy it is,” Andrew told them.

The two assistants looked at him, puzzled. “What?”

Andrew shook his head. “Never mind.”

Two expert chemists, Perry Stanford and Harvey Walker, had been selected to work on the project with Andrew.

The two men had already donned the heavy protective suits that were required for the experiment.

“I’ll get suited up,” Andrew said. “Be right back.”

He walked down the corridor to a closed door and opened it. Inside were racks holding full chemical gear resembling space suits, along with gas masks, goggles, special shoes, and heavy gloves.

Andrew walked into the room to put on his suit, and Tanner was there to wish him luck.

W
HEN ANDREW RETURNED
to the laboratory, Stanford and Walker were waiting. The three men meticulously sealed the room so that it was airtight, then carefully secured the door. They could all feel the excitement in the air.

“All set?”

Stanford nodded. “Ready.”

Walker said, “Ready.”

“Masks.”

They donned their protective gas masks.

“Let’s begin,” Andrew said. He cautiously lifted the lid from the metallic box. Inside were six small vials fitted snugly into protective cushions. “Be careful,” he warned. “These genies are two hundred twenty-two degrees below zero.” His voice was muffled by the gas mask.

Stanford and Walker watched as Andrew gently lifted the first vial and opened it. It began hissing, and steam rising from the vial turned into a freezing cloud that seemed to saturate the room.

“All right,” Andrew said. “Now, the first thing we have to do—the first thing—” His eyes widened. He was choking, his face turning chalky white. He tried to speak, but no words came out.

Stanford and Walker watched in horror as Andrew’s body tumbled to the floor. Walker hastily capped the vial and closed the case. Stanford hurried to the wall and pressed a button that activated a giant fan that swept the frigid gas vapor out of the lab.

When the air was clear, the two scientists opened the door and hurriedly carried Andrew outside. Tanner, walking down the hallway, saw what was happening and a panicky look came over his face.

He ran over to the two men and looked down at his brother. “What the hell is going on?”

Stanford said, “There’s been an accident and—”

“What kind of accident?” Tanner was screaming like a madman. “What have you done to my brother?” People were starting to gather around. “Call 911. Never mind. We haven’t time for that. We’ll get him to the hospital in one of our cars.”

T
WENTY MINUTES LATER
,
Andrew was lying on a gurney in a room of the emergency ward at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Manhattan. There was a pulsating oxygen mask on his face and an IV in his arm. Two doctors were hovering over him.

Tanner was frantically pacing up and down. “You’ve got to take care of whatever is wrong,” he yelled. “Now!”

One of the doctors said, “Mr. Kingsley, I must ask you to leave the room.”

“No,” Tanner shouted. “I’m staying right here with my brother.” He walked over to the gurney where Andrew was lying, unconscious, and took his hand and squeezed it. “Come on, bro. Wake up. We need you.”

There was no response.

Tears filled Tanner’s eyes. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. We’re going to fly in the best doctors in the world. You’re going to get well.” He turned to the doctors. “I want a private suite and twenty-four-hour private nurses, and I want a cot put in his room. I’m staying with him.”

“Mr. Kingsley, we’d like to finish our examination.”

Tanner said defiantly, “I’ll be waiting in the hall.”

A
NDREW WAS RUSHED
downstairs for a number of MRI and CAT scans as well as extensive blood work. A more sophisticated scan, a PET scan, was scheduled. Afterward, he was moved to a suite where three doctors were tending him.

Tanner was in the hallway, sitting in a chair, waiting. When one of the doctors finally came out of Andrew’s room, Tanner leaped to his feet. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

The doctor hesitated. “We’re transferring him immediately to the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, in Washington, for further diagnosis, but frankly, Mr. Kingsley, we don’t have much hope.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tanner was yelling. “Of course he’s going to get well. He was in that lab only a few minutes.”

The doctor was about to reprimand him, but he looked up, and Tanner’s eyes were filled with tears.

Tanner rode to Washington in the ambulance plane with his unconscious brother. He kept reassuring him during the entire flight. “The doctors say you’re going to be fine…. They’re going to give you something to make you well…. All you need is a little rest.” Tanner put his arms around his brother. “You’ve got to get well in time for us to go to Sweden to pick up your Nobel Prize.”

F
OR THE NEXT
three days, Tanner slept on a cot in Andrew’s room and stayed by his brother’s side as much as the doctors would allow it. Tanner was in the waiting room at Walter Reed when one of the attending doctors approached him.

“How is he doing?” Tanner asked. “Is he—?” He saw the expression on the doctor’s face. “What is it?”

“I’m afraid it’s very bad. Your brother is lucky to be alive. Whatever that experimental gas was, it was extremely toxic.”

“We can bring in doctors from—”

“It’s no use. I’m afraid the toxins have already affected your brother’s brain cells.”

Tanner winced. “But isn’t there a cure for—for what he has?”

The doctor said caustically, “Mr. Kingsley, the army doesn’t even have a name for it yet, and you want to know if there’s a cure? No. I’m sorry. I’m afraid he’s—he’s never going to be himself again.”

Tanner stood there, his fists clenched, his face white.

“Your brother’s awake now. You can go in and see him, but only for a few minutes.”

When Tanner walked into Andrew’s hospital room, Andrew’s eyes were open. He stared at his visitor, a blank expression on his face.

The phone rang and Tanner moved to answer it. It was General Barton. “I’m terribly sorry about what happened to—”

“You bastard! You told me that my brother wouldn’t be in any danger.”

“I don’t know what went wrong, but I assure you—”

Tanner slammed down the receiver. He heard his brother’s voice and turned.

“Where—where am I?” Andrew mumbled.

“You’re at Walter Reed hospital, in Washington.”

“Why? Who’s sick?”

“You are, Andrew.”

“What happened?”

“Something went wrong with the experiment.”

“I don’t remember—”

“It’s all right. Don’t worry. You’ll be taken care of. I’ll see to it.”

Tanner watched Andrew’s eyes close. He took one last look at his brother lying in bed and left the room.

P
RINCESS SENT FLOWERS
to the hospital. Tanner planned to call her, but his secretary said, “Oh, she phoned. She had to go out of town. She’ll call you as soon as she returns. She said to tell you that she loves you.”

A week later, Andrew and Tanner were back in New York. Word about what had happened to Andrew had raced through Kingsley Group. Without him in charge, would the think tank continue to exist? When the news of the accident became public, it was sure to damage Kingsley Group’s reputation.

That doesn’t matter,
Tanner thought.
I’m going to make this the biggest think tank in the world. Now I can give Princess more than she ever dreamed of. In a few years—

Tanner’s secretary buzzed. “There’s a limousine driver here to see you, Mr. Kingsley.”

Tanner was puzzled. “Send him in.”

A uniformed chauffeur walked in, holding an envelope. “Tanner Kingsley?”

“Yes.”

“I was asked to deliver this to you personally.”

He handed Tanner the envelope and left.

Tanner looked at it and grinned. He recognized Princess’s handwriting. She had planned some kind of surprise for him. Eagerly, he opened the envelope. The note read:

Tanner’s face had gone pale. He stared at the note for a long time and then dropped it nervelessly into the wastebasket.

His triumph had come one day too late.

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
Tanner was sitting quietly at his desk when his secretary buzzed. “There’s a committee here to see you, Mr. Kingsley.”

“A committee?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send them in.”

Supervisors from several Kingsley Group departments walked into Tanner’s office. “We’d like to talk to you, Mr. Kingsley.”

“Sit down.”

They took seats.

“What’s the problem?”

One of the foremen said, “Well, we’re kind of worried. After what’s happened to your brother…Is Kingsley Group going to stay in business?”

Tanner shook his head. “I don’t know. At this point I’m still in shock. I can’t believe what’s happened to Andrew.” He was thoughtful
for a moment. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I can’t predict our chances, but I’m going to make every effort to see if we can stay afloat. That’s a promise. I’ll keep you informed.”

There were murmurs of “Thank you,” and Tanner watched the men depart.

T
HE DAY THAT
Andrew got out of the hospital, Tanner set him up in a little staff house on the property, where he could be taken care of, and gave him an office next to his. The employees were stunned to see what had happened to Andrew. He had changed from a brilliant, alert scientist to a zombie. Most of the day Andrew sat in his chair, looking out the window, half asleep, but he seemed happy to be back at Kingsley Group, even though he had little idea of what was going on. All the employees were touched by how well Tanner treated his brother and how solicitous and caring he was of him.

T
HE ATMOSPHERE AT
Kingsley Group changed almost overnight. When Andrew was running it, it had been casual. Now suddenly it had become more formal and was being run as a business instead of a philanthropy. Tanner sent out agents to sign up clients for the company. Business began to flourish at an extraordinary pace, and Tanner changed the company name to Kingsley International Group, just as he had planned.

W
ORD ABOUT PRINCESSS’S
good-bye note had spread quickly through KIG. The employees had been prepared for the marriage, and they wondered how Tanner would take this blow. There was a great deal of speculation among the staff about what he would do after being jilted.

Two days after Tanner had received the letter, an item had appeared in the newspapers announcing that Tanner’s bride-to-be had married Edmond Barclay, a billionaire media tycoon. The only changes in Tanner Kingsley seemed to be an increased moodiness and a work ethic that was even stronger than it was before. Every morning he spent two hours alone, working on a project that was shrouded in secrecy.

O
NE EVENING, TANNER
was invited to speak at MENSA, the high-IQ society. Since many of the employees at KIG were members, he agreed to accept.

When Tanner came into headquarters the following morning, he was accompanied by one of the most beautiful women his staff had ever seen. She was Latin looking, with dark eyes, an olive complexion, and a sensational figure.

Tanner introduced her to the staff. “This is Sebastiana Cortez. She spoke at MENSA last night. She was brilliant.”

Tanner’s whole attitude suddenly seemed lighter. Tanner took Sebastiana into his office, and they did not reappear for more than an hour. After they came out, they had lunch in Tanner’s private dining room.

One of the employees looked up Sebastiana Cortez on the Internet. She was a former Miss Argentina, and her home was in Cincinnati, where she was married to a prominent businessman.

When Sebastiana and Tanner went back into his office after lunch, Tanner buzzed his secretary and told her to hold all calls. Moments later, Tanner’s voice could be heard in the reception room through the intercom, which had been left open.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

The secretaries started gathering around the intercom, eagerly listening to the conversation.

“We have to be very careful. My husband is a jealous man.”

“There’s no problem. I’ll make arrangements for us to keep in touch.”

It did not take a genius to figure out what was happening. The staff was amazed at how quickly he had gotten over Princess. It was all that the secretaries could do to keep from giggling.

“I’m sorry you have to go home just now.”

“I am, too. I wish I could stay, but—it can’t be helped.”

W
HEN TANNER AND
Sebastiana left the office, they were the picture of decorum. The staff took delight in the idea that Tanner had no clue they were aware of what was going on.

The day after Sebastiana departed, Tanner arranged for a phone, gilded in gold, to be installed in his office with a digital scrambler. His secretary and assistants had orders never to answer it.

From that time on, Tanner spoke on the gold phone almost every day, and at the end of each month, he went away for a long weekend and came back looking refreshed. He never told his staff where he had been, but they knew.

Two of Tanner’s aides were talking, and one of them said to the other, “Does the word
rendezvous
ring a bell?”

Tanner’s love life had started again, and the change in him was remarkable. Everybody was happy.