We got out of the car and walked towards the open-air workstation. A portable canvas canopy had been erected overtop to shield occupants from the sun for the few hours it loomed overhead each day. We reached the workstation and found the stack of pizza boxes intact. No notes, files, vials, or specimens were visible. Kingston’s truck was gone.
Letting my curiosity take over, I asked, “Should we collect some samples for ourselves?”
“What would be the point? We’re not looking to do our own testing. We don’t have access to a lab anyway.”
“It seems like a waste. To come here and have nothing to show for it.”
“Hang on!” Ilya walked towards the rows of teal ferns. “That’s not nothing!”
He pointed at a pair of shoes attached to horizontal ankles jutting out from the edge of the ferns.
Chapter 4
“He’s alive!” Ilya said as we closed the gap between us and the body.
“Doctor Kingston?” I cried out. “George Kingston?”
He said nothing as we brushed the ferns back to see his whole body. Kingston looked up at us with a pained expression. Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth.
“What happened? Who did this to you?” I said.
“You don’t have to talk. I’m a telepath. Think what you want to tell us,” said Ilya.
I waited through the excruciating silence, wringing my hands, hoping Kingston communicated something. “I’m so sorry . . . for everything. We will stop Tatiana, I promise. And Casey and whoever else they’re working with, it’s why we’re here.”
I knelt down and took Kingston’s hand, hoping for a vision of his attack. My focus paid off and the field around me shifted. I saw Kingston look up from pruning a plant. Casey walked towards him with a menacing glare. He flexed his arms snapping them open into four new limbs without breaking stride. Terror seized my heart as Casey closed in, arms ready. I dropped Kingston’s hand to slip back to the present. I took a calming breath as I looked from Kingston’s face to Ilya.
“Do you have a copy of
The Compendium Transmuto
? Or do you know who does?” I said.
Kingston gingerly reached into his pocket and pulled out a thumb drive.
“He says it’s not
The Compendium
, but it’s a snapshot. And he says they took the bees. We have to find the bees.” Ilya still held Kingston’s hand.
“Is there anything we can do for you?” I met Ilya’s gaze and he shook his head. “We could take him to a hospital in Hope.”
We sat in silence again for a painfully long moment.
“He’s gone,” said Ilya.
I looked down at Kingston’s large limp body before I glanced over at the workstation and past it to the glass and screen bee habitat I’d seen in my vision. The oil slick bees were gone. The image of a chameleon beetle from the Capitol City Motel flashed through my mind. I’d seen at least two species of insects now. Who knew how many more were created? There could be more plant species too. We needed
The Compendium
to be sure.
I walked over to the workstation table and punched the stack of pizza boxes. I shouted as the cardboard went flying. I kicked one of the table legs again and again until it snapped up and the table collapsed.
Ilya touched my shoulder. “We should get out of here.”
“Let’s go check on Jonah,” I said.
At the Bella Maria we found Jonah awake, but weak. Ilya insisted on resuming his patrol of the downtown eastside and took Cole for protection. To my surprise, Faith volunteered to join them. Jonah and I were alone at last.
“So you found another Innoviro research site.” Jonah sat up in bed.
“And we found Doctor Kingston,” I said.
“Did he help you?” asked Jonah.
“He did. He gave us a thumb drive with Compendium documents on it before he died of what looked like internal bleeding.” I showed Jonah the small plastic rectangle on my palm.
“I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head. “I’ve seen two people die in the last week. Technically, I also witnessed my parents’ death last month. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”
“Nobody expects you to watch people die and just bounce back. If you did, there’d be something wrong with you.” Jonah reached a hand towards me, but I shook my head.
“I’ll tell you what I’m never going to see. You are not going to die on my watch.”
“I’m not dying. I overdid it a bit. And then I went for a walk in the sun. I wasn’t being smart.” Jonah smoothed the blanket down on either side of his hips.
“Please, please take it easy. We don’t know when or if we’re going to find a treatment to help you. I know you don’t want to lie in bed while the rest of us investigate, but there’s no choice.”
“I’ll stay in bed if you’ll join me.” Jonah tried to smirk at me, but it wasn’t very convincing.
“I want to stay, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I looked at the wall to avoid Jonah’s eyes.
“You never know, I might drain you again and we’d be trading places. Kiss me, Irina and it could be you in this bed.” Jonah cocked his head with another weak smile.
“That’s not funny. We both know that won’t happen. The last time we were together, you didn’t drain me. I think
I
hurt
you
. The injections Tatiana and Brad gave me made me stronger in general.” I looked down at the ground.
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“You’re still too weak for us to get close again, Jonah. I won’t risk it.”
“How about we lie together for a while? Nothing heated. We can watch TV. I’ll pull the sheet up between us and if I start to feel weaker, I’ll let you know.” I let my gaze connect with his again. Jonah looked at me intently with those glacial eyes. “I promise.”
I stared back helplessly, grateful Jonah didn’t have a mind-reading gift. We had established that he was attracted to me too, but I couldn’t imagine he felt as strongly about me as I did about him.
I got into bed with him, careful to stay on top of the inner bed sheet. I let him wrap his arms around me. I clicked through television channels until I found an episode of
Doctor Who
. I burrowed against Jonah’s side. “Here. Let’s have something stranger than us for once.”
Ilya, Cole, and Faith walked in moments after
Doctor Who
ended. Cole carried grocery bags full of food while Ilya had a whiteboard and Faith had a full cardboard tray of to-go coffee cups.
“Okay.” Ilya propped the empty whiteboard up on top of the dresser. “We need get organized and come up with a plan of attack.”
Cole began shelving groceries. “We’re fumbling around playing catch-up, but you can be damn sure Ivan knew exactly what his next steps were.”
“We’ll never catch up to him, let alone get ahead if we’re roaming and groping in the dark,” said Ilya.
“The first thing I’m going to do is copy everything on this thumb drive to Irina’s laptop.” Faith distributed coffee cups. “From there I’m going to run a script cross-referencing what I pulled off the Innoviro server and plant doc’s files. Any common terms might be important.”
I had to remind myself again of Faith’s high intelligence and why she had been a part of the Innoviro team.
“For now, we’ll have three columns.” Ilya drew lines on the whiteboard with a black dry erase marker. “Facts we know, questions we have, and actions we need to take.”
“This feels like corporate life all over again,” I said, half-joking.
“Until recently that life was all we knew. We have skills and education we should put to use here. Ivan hired us for the same reason,” said Cole.
“My father–our father, sorry, Irina–used variants to further some pretty awful goals. It’s time we made amends and used
all
our talents to stop him.” Ilya wrote on the whiteboard.
Faith clicked on my laptop. Cole started making a meal.
I suddenly felt proud of my friends. I was a mess, but here they were, fresh from losing their jobs and homes, plunging into a dangerous mission with only their wits and morals to guide them. “I wish I had more skills and knowledge to contribute.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Jonah. “You can still have visions. I’m totally useless as long as I’m bedridden.”
“You guys aren’t useless. We’re all here for a reason,” said Cole.
Did he mean we all had motivation? Or did he think a higher power had brought us together? I didn’t have the energy to probe for an explanation. Ilya and Faith hadn’t looked up, still concentrating on their work.
“I need some air.” I got up out of bed. Being cuddled up to Jonah with Cole in the room had gotten uncomfortable. “I won’t be gone long.” I slipped out of the room.
I ducked into mine and Faith’s room. I put my phone in the front pocket of my backpack and slung one of the straps over my shoulder. I heard the jingle of my 8-ball keychain.
The keychain had been a gift from Gemma. How ironic it seemed now. My little sister, who no longer knew who I was, had given me a trinket to help me play at seeing the future. I decided to ask it a question for fun.
I set the backpack down on the end of my bed and picked up the ball between my thumb and forefinger. I closed my eyes to concentrate on a question, but I was instantly transported to a lawn in front of a stairway leading to a long rectangular building made of a castle-like grey stone center and elegant modern glass wings on either side.
Time moved very quickly on the clock face at the top of a tall concrete tower next to me. People streamed in and out of the building and all around me. Wisps of cloud tumbled across the sky as the light blue behind it turned to a deep sapphire and then dark indigo.
Lights inside the building and on the surrounding lampposts had flickered to life. Pedestrian traffic was gone, except for a single girl walking out of the building. I walked towards her. I closed the distance between us until I could see her face. My sister Gemma!
I longed to talk to her, to hug her and tell her I regretted everything. The intensity of my need to reach her jerked my vision self forward as Gemma turned in front of a grid of glass windows.
I followed behind as she marched along the dark concrete path until we reached a major well-lit road. Gemma had books clutched to her chest and more in the backpack sagging low on her back. She sped along the sidewalk quickly in the time-advanced pace of my vision.
Gemma turned and turned again until we reached a brick building next to a large parking lot and open grassy lawn. She pushed the front door open and the scene melted away. I was back in my hotel room.
I looked out the window at the barred shops across the street. Would I ever see Gemma again? She wouldn’t know me if I did see her. I felt so tired and I ached with the weight of everything I had lost in the past few months.
I dropped onto my bed and curled up. Sadness washed over me. I let the tears come. Sobs wracked my body until all my energy left.
“Are you okay?” said Faith. She’d come several steps into our room, but I hadn’t heard the door open.
“How long have you been standing there?” I dabbed at my eyes with the heels of my wrists.
“We heard you in the other room. Jonah wanted to come, but he’s still too weak to get up.”
“I saw my sister. She’s the one who gave me the 8-ball keychain on my bag.” I pointed at the bauble.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose your family. Don’t forget, you’ve still got us. And Ilya. He’s your family now.” Faith’s voice sounded uncharacteristically soft. Her eyes brimmed with sympathy.
“I didn’t know you cared.”
“Of course I care. I know I’ve been bitchy lately. I don’t have an excuse.”
“You’re still in love with Jonah. I get that. I can’t help how I feel either.” I swept more moisture from my eyelids with my fingertips.
“I’m getting over Jonah, Irina. I don’t want to be the bitter bag who glares at you from the sidelines. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. It’s embarrassing.” Faith whipped her hair back with a nod and an eye roll.
“Ilya told me you were embarrassed while you were with him too. Don’t let it eat you up.” I sat up to face her.
“You and I both have to get our heads together.”
“I’m glad you don’t hate me.” I took a calming breath.
“Likewise,” said Faith with a smile.
Chapter 5
“I’m going to the University of British Columbia. I know where Gemma lives now,” I announced as I walked into the guys’ room the next morning. “It’s probably a bad idea and a waste of time. I’m doing it anyway.”
“Actually, we should all try to keep busy while Jonah rests,” Ilya said.
“Go, but don’t talk to your sister. If Rubin did his work well, and he always did, she won’t know you.” Cole stood at the kitchenette counter breaking up a pineapple with his bare hands. “You’ll scare the hell out of her. She may even call the cops.” He portioned pineapple onto four paper plates.
“Maybe she’ll remember me if she sees me in person.” I heard the desperation in my voice and saw pity on the faces of my friends. I waved away the pineapple Cole passed to me.
“We can’t stop you from trying, but for what it’s worth, I agree with Cole,” said Ilya.
“Go see her. Say goodbye somehow if you can. We’ll be here for you when you get back,” said Jonah from his bed.
Faith nodded agreement.
“Thanks. I won’t make a scene, whatever happens,” I said.
I returned to a bus stop I’d passed on East Hastings that had a UBC route listed on its signpost. A bus arrived a few minutes later. I dropped coins in the fare box, took my receipt, and made my way to the back of the bus. I found an empty seat in the back row next to a window.
Vancouver’s downtown eastside rolled along beside me. The crowds on the street gave way to boutiques and the lobbies of modern glass towers as we plowed back into the heart of the city. The bus turned onto the iconic Granville Street and the boutiques and eateries took on an edgy flavor. People with body piercings wearing ripped up band shirts or skull-decorated tees and raggedy jeans flaunted studded bracelets, mohawks, and dyed hair. They walked the street mingling with tourists and business professionals. Windows populated with army boots and indie band posters alongside trendy clothing, pizza-by-the-slice and tattoo parlors.
As the blocks of hard rock culture gave way to plain glass and metal towers again, the road took us out onto a bridge, like exiting through a gate and floating out onto open water.
We stopped on Granville Island. Nostalgia flowed over me as I remembered coming to the Island with Mom and Gemma. I looked over at a yellow building topped with a rainbow behind the words Kid’s Market. We’d visited Vancouver because Gemma had a science project in a provincial competition exhibited at Science World.
Mom took us shopping at the Market because Gemma’s project had won a medal. She bought gifts for both of us to keep things fair. Gemma complained because she didn’t want me to get a present for doing nothing. Mom still bought stuffed bears for both of us, but she also bought Gemma an expensive dollhouse, in spite of not really being able to afford it after the cost of the trip itself.
I’d hated Gemma that day. I was jealous of her and ashamed I hadn’t done anything special. I resented Mom for putting Gemma first, yet again. I remembered walking away from the Kid’s Market and looking into the shop windows farther down the lane. Art supplies and finished works made me ache for the chance to make something myself. I badly wanted to believe I had the potential to create beauty.
For Christmas a few months later, Gemma’s gift to me was a watercolor paint set. She’d remembered how I’d gushed over the arts community on Granville Island. She apologized for being a brat that day and told me she thought I would make a wonderful artist.
Over a decade later, Granville Island made me feel much the same way, without the taint of resentment. I wanted to get off the bus and wander the artists’ studios and gift shops, but I remembered where Gemma would be today and I stayed in my seat. Gemma was my only remaining connection to Mom.
The bus carried on through the hipster strip along West Broadway Avenue, passing upscale brands, designer consignment boutiques, and skateboard shops between bistros and brewpubs. Our route turned into a green space of carefully manicured lawns and lush forest. I saw a street sign for University Boulevard. We passed a golf clubhouse and entered a carefully crafted city inside the forest.
As the bus made a U-turn, I saw the library from my vision shining in the sun northward along a crossroad. I hopped off the bus as soon as it stopped and walked briskly along Gemma’s route home. I snapped up a copy of the student paper from a small self-serve newsstand along the way.
I reached Gemma’s building and kept walking past it, across the lawn and into the parking lot. I found a bench and got comfortable. I carefully positioned my newspaper so I could see over the top while concealing my face, allowing me to watch the door somewhat inconspicuously.
I waited. And waited. My stomach settled and my pulse slowed. I read a few articles in the paper while keeping one eyeball on the door. I lowered the paper, looked around, flipped the page, read more, and repeated the cycle. It occurred to me I might become conspicuous simply by sitting on the bench too long. Had anyone exiting Gemma’s building entered after I had first sat down? My phone told me that over an hour had passed. Should I venture into the building and hope for a new vision?
I stared at the door, considering making a move when a man wearing a familiar pale blue shirt and metallic slate slacks exited the building. His face was covered in dark scabbing scrapes from his forehead down to his chin in a ruinous swipe. The arm below his wounds had the sleeve rolled up to accommodate a plaster cast.
The injured man looked at his other wrist checking his watch as a woman in a black pantsuit joined him on the curb. I recognized her long dark ironed hair immediately. Tatiana! I knew the injured man before he turned to speak. The clean unhurt side of Ivan’s face shifted into view, his expression cold and hard as ever. Ilya was right! Our father lived!
The pair paused on the corner in front of the building. Ivan surveyed the lawn and the parking lot while Tatiana examined her phone. Ivan pointed towards the parking lot and stepped out onto the road.
Shit! Why had I come alone? Could Ivan hear me? Sense me? See me? Ivan kept walking into the parking lot and disappeared behind the frame of a SUV. Tatiana followed him, still looking at the screen in her hand.
My whole body flexed. I shifted in my seat, frantic for some sign of where Ivan and Tatiana had gone. Ivan’s silver Audi rumbled into view behind the parked cars ahead of me. He turned at the end of the lot and drove around directly in front of me with Tatiana in the passenger seat.
Neither of them looked over at the girl behind the paper on the bench next to them as they passed. I held my breath. I waited until the Audi drove out of sight. I waited some more.
Get up! Go!
I shouted at myself. I stood and immediately flipped up the hood of my shirt. I tugged on the hood trying to pull it right over my face. I marched back to the bus loop as quickly as I could without running.
What could the Krylovs want with Gemma? Leverage on me? Did she have a variation too? The parts of me not compelled forward with fear desperately wanted to turn back around and find my sister. I couldn’t risk it though. What if the Krylovs came back? I’d have to get Ilya and return in disguise until steps away from Gemma’s personal door.
I paced inside a glass shelter until a number 14 bus reappeared and admitted the waiting passengers. I kept my hood up on the bus for the entire trip back to the downtown eastside.
I sped along Hastings to the Bella Maria, hood first, head down, until I reached the safety of the hotel stairwell. I paused for a moment to catch my breath. I took deep, calming breaths. I had not been followed, I was sure of it. Nothing had actually happened, apart from sighting Ivan and Tatiana. If I could lie down for a moment, I would be able to tell the others without freaking out at the same time.
I slid my key card through the slot in my hotel room’s door handle and pushed into the room. Ilya and Faith were entwined on her bed, their partially clothed bodies moving above the covers. They kept kissing for a beat until the sound of the door registered and they broke apart.
I felt the look of shock frozen on my face. They both looked at me with similar expressions. I turned around and closed the door behind me. I crossed the hall and knocked on the guys’ door.
“Use your card!” shouted Cole.
“It’s me. Irina. Let me in!”