The Leaves in Winter (42 page)

Chapter 40

Le Monnaie

The Royal Opera House,
Brussels

The house lights came up, the curtain closed, and lingering applause died away. Seated in a prime box near the stage, Leah Mass lifted her gaze and took in the view across the great hall. Crimson balconies lined in gold sprung full of movement. Patrons everywhere stood and murmured while edging their way to intermission.

Eugene Mass lowered opera glasses. “You want to go down?”

Leah watched the private boxes on the far side empty of people. “I should make an appearance.”

“One of the small prices of stewardship…”
Eugene
frowned.

Leah stood. “It’s a benefit, not a concert. At a thousand Euros a seat, they expect to see us.”

“Nonsense.”
Eugene
struck a sarcastic tone. “They’re here for the Wildlife Fund. Knowing they did their part to help save Sumatran tiger cubs or boost rhino populations should be more than enough satisfaction for them.”

“It won’t take long. I’m a bit hungry anyway.”

Eugene
followed her out of the box. “Ah, yes…canapés and champagne; typical fare to fuel the Green Movement.”

Outside their box, Leah nodded hello to the bodyguard but couldn’t repress annoyance at
Eugene
. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I wish I knew. Maybe the music is making me melancholy.”

“That’s strange. Music usually has the opposite effect on you.”

“Yes, but it’s intermission; we’re closer to the end than the beginning.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Leah headed down the small flight of stairs to the lobby. Everywhere one looked, people dressed in their finest were standing, talking, drinking, and eating. Waitstaff worked the crowd armed with trays of specialty bites. Bartenders were fast and efficient keeping all the crystal flutes full.

Leah smiled and said hello here and there.
Eugene
shook an occasional hand and remained pleasantly casual but quiet at her side. He passed on the food but accepted something to drink. As Leah talked away at his side, he looked around and enjoyed people watching.

One man in particular caught his attention. Although dressed well, the man appeared out of place. Something about his temperament didn’t fit the occasion. Locking eyes with Eugene, the man abruptly parted company with a couple he was speaking to and worked his way through the throng to approach
Eugene
.

“Mr. Mass…” The man extended a hand in greeting. “It’s a privilege meeting you. Graham Fry from the
London
Times.”

Eugene
endured the handshake. “I didn’t know they let your sort in here.”

“If you pay the price, I imagine they let anybody in.”

“Apparently. I presume your paper picked up the tab.”

“Why yes, they love wildlife just like me.”

Eugene
sipped and smiled. “Don’t we all.”

“I was curious to get your opinion…”

“Ever inquisitive. What a surprise.”

“NovoSenectus has never officially released
GenLET
for use, isn’t that right?”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“That’s what I thought. What do you think of the peculiar rumors going around that say
GenLET
has become an underground business servicing the world’s elites?”

“Is that a quote from André Bolard?”
Eugene
chuckled.

“Hardly. It’s one thing to whisper behind closed doors but when people shout in celebration, someone’s bound to hear.”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at.” Mass gazed beyond Fry at no one in particular. Mass’ bodyguard started to move in but Mass raised a hand to keep any disruption at bay.

The reporter hurried his point. “No one will go on record but plenty are talking – they’re excited about having extended life. News like that is hard to contain.”

Mass took a step closer to Fry. “The fact that they won’t go on record should be your first clue. Beyond that, you don’t need many others.”

“No one’s accusing you of running such a business, of course.”

“How generous of you…”

Graham Fry was tenacious. “If the rumors were true, perhaps it’s more likely that someone else is profiting off your creation. If someone had stolen
GenLET
secrets from you, the resulting black market trade in life extension could soon be out of control. Spending billions in investment without retaining proprietary management would be a disaster for NovoSenectus. I can see how your managers might want to keep news of such a theft under wraps.”

Mass’ eyes widened in mock surprise. “You have some imagination but as I’m sure you know, plenty of hucksters and scam artists around the world claim to have
GenLET
for sale. What they offer is not even good snake oil. Every day police arrest another fraud injecting people with sterile saline solution and calling it
GenLET
.”

“But if the secret had been stolen, it would help NovoSenectus to have everyone believe that all the other
GenLETs
are frauds, wouldn’t it? It might be the only way to try to put the genie back in the bottle.”

Eugene
tired of the exchange. “What exactly is your question?”

Graham saw Leah approaching and the window of opportunity for his interview was closing. “Do you have a secret program to sell
GenLET
to the wealthy or has someone stolen the secret and is doing it without your permission?”

Eugene
smiled. “You violated the first rule of interviewing…” He put his arm around Leah’s shoulder. “Never ask a question you already know the answer to.”

Just then a chime sounded marking the ten-minute warning to end of intermission.
Eugene
led Leah through the crowd back towards the stairs.

“Whatever was that about?” asked Leah.

In passing,
Eugene
set his half-empty flute on a waitstaff’s tray.

“Nothing, just a desperate man on a fishing expedition.”

They headed up the stairs side by side. Securing the way in front of them, their suited bodyguard cleared a path with polite motions for others to step aside.

Eugene
changed the subject. “Sorry, I missed your conversation, but at least I heard your laughter.”

Leah flipped her hand to one side. “Don’t even ask. It never fails to surprise me what some people think is important.”

She stepped into their private box to find a champagne bucket in front of and between their seats. Taped to the chilled bottle was a small card.

“Oh, my, look at this.” Leah opened the card and scanned it. “A thank-you from the Wildlife Fund for organizing the benefit.”

Eugene
pulled the bottle from the ice and checked the vintage.

“Indeed! Only a non-profit could afford this label.” He popped the cork.

Leah sat down, exasperated. “Why do you insist on denigrating any attempt to make things better?”

“Why?” He found a glass nearby and poured. “Because all the good intentions are a drop in the bucket and you know it.” He motioned out at the audience. “None of this is going to save wildlife. Since yesterday, another 200,000 people have been added to the planet. Every day, 200,000 more.”

“You don’t have to remind me.”

He handed her the glass of champagne but she refused it. Satisfied that his chivalrous duty was complete, he sat down and drank half the glass in one draft.

“We all have to be reminded. It’s far too easy to turn away from what we don’t want to face.”

Leah sank back in her chair. “I’m not turning away.”

“But you want me to stop everything.”

“I want us to step back from the edge of doing something horrible.”

“And after that, how are you going to stop everything else? You know as well as I do, if the population doesn’t collapse, civilization surely will. Not one indicator says it won’t. Forty years from now, global energy demand will double. Billions of more people will need water, food, housing, sanitation, education. The climate will de-stabilize and all bets are off.”

Leah reached over and grabbed his hand. “Let’s not argue about it. At least tonight, can we do that?” She looked into his eyes and the two of them held silent and still for a moment.

Eugene
nodded. “I can do that.” He reached down and refilled his glass.

“We should get away.” Leah’s suggestion was out of the blue but the need to say it was strong. “We haven’t had a real vacation in years. Maybe we should take some time to decompress, clear our minds, rest our hearts. The stress of all of this has been rough on both of us.”

“But we’ve gained so much.”

Leah leaned close. “Yes, we have so much life ahead of us; more than we ever dreamt possible. But adding years to life is not the same as adding life to years. I want to feel the way we used to. I want to feel good when a new day begins, not worried sick about a world with no future.”

The orchestra began to play an overture. In minutes, the curtain would open.

Eugene
listened and stared down at the stage.

“When we were first dating we came to the opera. Remember?”

Leah nodded.

Filled with champagne and reflection, he sat back. “I want to feel that way too. Only not much of what we hoped for back then has come true – only
GenLET
. But what good is
GenLET
in a world on fire?”

“We now have extra time to work on things, to see things through.”

“To see
what
through?”
Eugene
shook his head. “Every movement for change went off track. It’s all gone crazy. Celebrities travel in private jets to fancy benefits to raise awareness about rising CO2 levels. People who predict rising sea levels turn around and buy oceanfront mansions. Sustainability has been turned into a codeword used by politicians to regulate, control, and tax. The very people who champion the cause have been co-opted or seduced by short-term interests wanting nothing more than power and wealth. None of it’s going to end well.”

Leah couldn’t hide her vulnerability. The part of her that reasoned agreed with him but the part of her that knew love wouldn’t accept that all hope was gone.

“All I want is to be happy with you. Maybe it’s selfish to say, but I don’t care about anything else.”

Eugene
’s smile was weak. “I want that too. I wish the world was different and would let us have it that way.”

The lights dimmed and the curtain pulled open. With a flourish, dramatic music filled the hall. Eugene and Leah squeezed hands together in solidarity. Finishing his champagne,
Eugene
eased to one side and turned his attention to the stage.

Leah felt the weight of the drama and the music upon her. The soaring libretto was in a language not her native tongue. And yet, the ache and pathos of the performance spoke to her of all the loss and hope for what might still be possible.

The spirit of it was triumphant even as the misunderstandings between characters on stage played out as bitterly tragic. It was all there for her to feel. It was all too real. In so many ways it resembled the heartbreak of the greater world outside.

As she watched and listened, she became aware of
Eugene
slumping to one side. She turned and touched him, only to have his body droop off balance and collapse out of his seat and onto the floor. He landed awkwardly contorted with face buried in the carpet and arms twisted under him.

Leah bolted out of her seat and let out a scream.

The performance on stage sputtered then stopped.