Page 155 of Gates of Tartarus

Spinning Stories

Saturday, 8 December – Maela

Ihave got to get my proverbialmerdetogether. “Come on, Maela,” I mutter to myself, “be feckful.” The usually cheery reminder falls flat, and I grimace. I remember snorting with laughter when I found out in my linguistics class that “feckful” – the opposite of “feckless” – was a real word. Since then, I like to use it as a rallying cry before a big event, but today the humor’s not working. I can literally see the worry carving wrinkles in my foreheadas I speak. “You are a strong, competent woman, Maela,” I try again. “For heaven’s sake, pull your socks up. All you have to do is have a chat with Elizabeth and act natural. Just be yourself.” But I fear I can’t. We haven’t spoken since Thursday, when I found out that she’s, well… “a high-functioning psychopath,” I whisper to my reflection. “The head of an international crime syndicate that traffics in people and drugs and has eluded the combined efforts of the CIA and MI6 for years. My new boss. My friend. The big sister I always wanted.”

I’m supposed to meet up with Elizabeth this afternoon, to go over some preliminary questions and discuss my transition to Gaia. She doesn’t have a lot of time, what with the gala coming up, but we’ve arranged to meet for a brief chat at her office, so I’ve dragged my sorry arse off the couch and into work clothes: elegant, black boots, black slacks, emerald-green sweater, hair done in a French braid. I’d far rather stay slumming in my yoga pants in front of the Babylon dossiers and a bowl of ice cream, but needs must. This will be a good opportunity, as Emlyn says, to start gathering intel.

My mobile rings, interrupting my craven train of thought. Running to the bedside table, I glance at the number, and my stomach clenches: it’s Elizabeth.

“Hi, Elizabeth!” I say in what I hope is an upbeat tone, twirling one finger around the end of my braid.

“Maela! I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to postpone our meeting. Problem with the caterers.” Elizabeth sounds vexed, but I feel a huge wave of relief sweep through me. My legs actually give out, and I slump gratefully on the bed.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that. And, uh, it’s not something Fallon could sort out?”

Elizabeth sighs: “She probably could, but I like to take care of the details. This is our biggest fundraiser of the year, and it has to be perfect. Our guests pay a lot of money for what is essentially a tray of canapés and drinks in a nice venue, and they like to nit-pick. If they’ve been told that the champagne will be Piper-Heidsieck, then God forbid if I serve Louis Roederer. Or vice versa.”

“Ah.” I’m not really sure what to say so take refuge in inanity. “The glitterati.”

“Precisely.” She pauses as if making a note, then, “So, to business. Did you get my email?

Did I. Emlyn had whistled when he saw my starting salary. “She must really like you, copperhead.”

“I did. I have to say, Elizabeth, it’s incredibly generous.”

“I value my employees,” she says lightly. “I think we’re going to do great things together, Maela. And I know, with your skill-set, that you could rise high in British intelligence. Or in the CDS. You know about the CDS?”

“Uh, yes. Emlyn’s mentioned it. The Center for Developing Sciences, right?”

“Indeed. They’ve been doing some very cutting-edge work, and I’m sure they’d be interested in you.”

“I thought it was considered something of a joke? The other agencies look down on it, don’t they? Isn’t that where they send misfits? Guess I’d be viewed as a crackpot too.” I’m trying to ask leading questions, to find out how much she knows.

A silvery laugh comes down the line. “You are anything but, dear girl. And, with all due respect to Agents Smith and Donovan, the CIA and FBI can be pretty clueless. You don’t need to worry about being mocked at Gaia. We know how special you are. The team can’t wait to meet you.”

That sounds ominous, and I bite my lip. “So, they know about me?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t help myself. Dr. Phos was looking a little discouraged at the weekly briefing yesterday, and I found myself wanting to cheer him up. Which isn’t like me at all,” she muses. “I can be pretty results-oriented and tend to want things solved yesterday. Which I shouldn’t tell you in case you change your mind. Usually, before a big event, I’m even worse, I’m afraid. But you and Kailani have really made my year. So the team is already predisposed to like you. But they’ll have to be patient.”

“Oh?” I cock my head, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Yes. I know you want to get back to the States as soon as possible” – at this, I blush and can only be deeply thankful that we’re not video-calling – “but, as you and Kailani will both be here, I’d like to take the opportunity to introduce you to the London team. After all, you’ll be working with our scientists on both sides of the Atlantic. So, I thought you could spend the first month here. And that way, you’d have more time to organize your move. But would that work for your parents? They must be anxious to see you. When is your father going in for tests? Or is it an operation? You said it wasn’t serious?”

Oh feck. In all the confusion, I haven’t taken time to work out the details of my cover story.

“Yes, that’s right, not too serious,” I stammer. “Well, at the moment, you know. Just some tests, and his doctor isn’t worried, but… well… and they haven’t said in so many words, but I get the sense they’d be happier if I were closer to home. Just in case. But I’m sure a month won’t make a difference.”

“No? Well, that would be better from our end, as I’ve said, but only if it works for you. I know they’ll be disappointed not to see you sooner.”

I’m starting to sweat now. I can’t really remember what I’ve told Elizabeth and am desperate to keep things vague. “Well, they don’t actually know about the move yet. They think I’m just coming for a visit after Christmas. I wanted to tell Seef and Emlyn first. I felt I, er, owed it to them.”

“So you’ve spoken to them?” Elizabeth’s voice sharpens with interest. “How did they take it? I suspect I’m not the flavor of the month.”

“Oh, pretty well. They said they were disappointed but they understood that a job with Gaia was a great opportunity. And, of course, with my wanting to move back to the States…” I trail off.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. And you’re sure about your parents?”

Oh, God, why did I make up that story? How do I make an operation sound like a big enough deal to move but not big enough to move right away? For an English major, I’m pretty rubbish at this. “I’m probably reading too much into what my mother said. To be honest, my dad didn’t sound concerned at all. But, well, they’re not getting any younger, you know? And something like this makes you think. I’d feel better if I were around in case they needed me, but a few weeks won’t hurt.” My braid’s now wound so tightly about my finger that I’m going to cut off the circulation.