The Leap, page 36
“But even you think that’s not unlikely,” Jonathan Lee said. He put his arm around Sean’s shoulders and gave her a hug.
“Just because that’s what I think doesn’t mean I agree with the outcome. You’d better give the best testimony ever given at any trial in history,” she said to Jonathan Lee. “I’m depending on you.”
“You can always depend on me,” he said.
“You should eat something, Sean. We have to be back at court in a half hour.” Ethan lay down on the grass and put his head on Ziva’s lap.
“Have some cashews. They’ll sustain you.” Zee tossed a packet to Sean.
Sean opened it and took out a cashew, examined it, then put it back. “They’re going to get away with it. And then—Desire Me will be the next big thing. The trial’s turning into an unpaid advertising campaign for it.”
“I’ve been rehearsing for weeks. Stop worrying,” Jonathan Lee said.
But Sean was worried, and even though Jonathan Lee’s testimony was brilliant, concise, understandable, unwavering, accurate, and convincing, when the defense called Prentiss, the know-nothing Osada City medical examiner, to the stand, Sean sensed it was all over for them. For the truth. For justice.
Chapter 60
Six months after the trial
“They’re untouchable, aren’t they?” Maizy was lying on her side by the pool, watching Lukas finish his morning laps. She’d done the first twenty with him—far better than the two or three she’d been able to manage at first—but she was no match for the champion swimmer.
Lukas finished his workout, pulled himself out of the pool and up beside Maizy, then shook his head, sending hundreds of water droplets onto her nearly dry body.
“Oh yeah. There’s never been any doubt.”
“Ziva doubted. She’d hoped. You know that. She’s very disappointed. About that, I mean. Not about everything.”
“I tried telling her, but she’s a hard sell.”
“Do you miss Althea?”
“You can stop asking me that in another week.” Lukas figured he had to give Maizy a definite timeframe. He knew she still couldn’t quite believe someone she thought of as a celebrity would be interested in her. But he didn’t think of himself that way and he was interested in her.
“Only one more week? But you could answer in the meanwhile.”
“I miss her fabulas. She was the best writer around and I haven’t been offered a part since that I have any interest in doing.”
“You’re not going to quit, are you?” Maizy squinted into the sun.
“I’m all but quit right now.”
“What will you do?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“I like it out here, away from everyone, from everything.”
“That’s the idea.”
“I keep thinking about the Convergence. Something happened to me there. Something still humming inside me, waiting to take form.”
“You’re still recovering, Maizy. Give it some time.”
“Thanks for having me out here, Lukas. It’s been wonderful.”
Lukas turned around to face Maizy. He brushed sparkling water droplets off her shoulder then took her hands in his.
“It is wonderful. It’s going to continue to be wonderful.”
“How can you know?”
“I just know.”
“I can’t figure out if the leap was the worst thing that ever happened or the best.”
“Both,” he said. Lukas had wondered the same thing and had come to that conclusion. “Both.”
“During the interlude I had with Oliver—”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“But I want to. I want to tell you how I felt then and how I feel now—it’s completely different. Then I was whirling, carried along on a path someone else had built. But now, Lukas—now I feel like I’m home.”
“You are home, Maizy.”
Chapter 61
“In some ways, it’s like it never happened. Except for . . . but sometimes I don’t get the connection,” Ziva said. “As though something else happened to Oliver and Kaj. And it’s not like I knew Althea.”
“Beryl,” Ethan said. “What the hell was she doing with Charley Pierce? Did she really think he was going to fund her research? Pierce has never funded anything that wasn’t to his direct benefit.”
“Maybe she didn’t realize that, Ethan. From what I gather, she lived a life removed from that kind of common knowledge. Jonathan Lee told me she was so involved in her specialty that even when they were married, she barely knew what he was doing, much less what was going on in the rest of the world.”
“Or cared, I’m sorry to say. Jay had a lot of problems with their relationship, but I’d always thought it would work out, especially after Patterson was born.”
“We’ll find out how much of a difference it makes three months from now.” Zee looked down at herself. “Right, kid?”
“Kid will be born and we still won’t have a name.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll have a name. It’s on my list.”
“It’s not so bad here at Keff, is it, Zee? I know it’s not what you might’ve had in mind. But after Prentiss pushed me out of Genesia, I didn’t want to turn this down.”
“I like it here, and Ed’s been introducing me to an interesting group. I’ve got the Banerjee exhibition next month, the renovations for the nursery, and so many ideas I don’t know what to do with them all.”
“You didn’t have to buy this house. We could’ve lived in the housing they provide.”
“Ethan, you still don’t get it, do you? I could buy this entire campus and it wouldn’t make a noticeable dent in my assets. This house is simply a comfortable place to live for now.”
“For now?”
“Think of where you were a year ago. Not talking to Sean. Bored with your job. No leap to occupy your time. We can’t know what could happen next.”
“Think of where you were, Zee.”
“I know. I was so upset that Morris had disappeared. Sean’s still looking for him even though I told her to stop a long time ago.”
“Jay left the Acres like he hadn’t been rooted to the place for most of his life. Gave his classes to Ledyard and Violet and had them appoint Dorian to his post. I hope he’s happy.”
“Does Jonathan Lee know how to be happy?”
“He can apply his memories from the ancient times.”
Zee laughed, and said, “The kid agrees with you. Check it out.”
Ethan put his hand on Ziva’s belly and felt for the kicks. Zee put her hand over Ethan’s.
“Ethan, it still bothers me. No one except a few of us know what really happened—not just Juno and Charley’s guilt, but the leap itself and all its insidious possibilities. Most people think it was some rare, mysterious ailment affecting only a few people. And that it’s over.”
“The defense did a good job of making the facts seem like a wild fantasy conjured up by a collection of fools. If I didn’t know what I know, they might’ve convinced me.”
Ziva shook her head. “Your presentation and Jonathan Lee’s were perfect. No one could have done a better job, but—”
Ethan interrupted her. They’d been over this so many times. “The jury didn’t want to believe it and the science was over their heads.”
“Ethan, do you think it’s really over?”
“I try not to think along those lines too often. Pierce Sangstrom’s doing better than ever. Desire Me is a monumental success. And who knows what those two might be up to now that they’ve literally gotten away with murder.”
“Sean told me she heard they bought the building next to PS and are turning the top two floors into their residence. But not even a year ago they were trying to kill each other and would have succeeded if Lukas hadn’t shown up. It’s craziness.”
“Somehow, they need each other, despite everything.”
“Maybe. I used to think I needed Morris. Anyone can make a mistake.”
“Zee, thanks for taking a chance on me. After what you’ve been through—”
“This was never taking a chance. I knew right from the beginning.”
Chapter 62
Sean had been out at the Flats for a while now but today was the first time she’d encountered this man—tall, lean, his skin glowing with sweat. He got up from the place where he was working and turned around, smiling, as she approached.
“Hah,” he said. “You’re the investigator Zee hired, aren’t you?”
“None other,” Sean said. “And—”
“I have a new name. Part of the culture here. Alexander. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m still Sean. Maybe I’ll come up with another name eventually. Nice T-shirt you’ve got there.” Sean pointed at the well-worn blue shirt with the familiar font and the PS Delenda Est slogan on it. Not exactly what she expected to see Morris Walls wearing when she finally tracked him down—although she hadn’t exactly tracked him down even though at one time she’d suspected he’d be out at the Flats—but it made sense.
“When I designed it I was hoping more would come of it. A movement. A revolution. I still hope, but I’m no longer so involved.”
Sean stepped back. “You designed this? But didn’t you work—”
“I’m Alexander now. I have nothing to do with any of that. And, yes, I designed it. I started it. I used to enjoy history but, being out here, I’ve come to realize its meaninglessness.”
“Why did you leave Zee?”
“It wasn’t that I left Zee, although I gather she’s doing quite well these days, it’s that I had to get away from Charley Pierce before he killed me along with everyone else he had it in for.”
“Everyone else?” Sean sat down on the tree stump next to her, and Morris-now-Alexander squatted like he’d never been a corporate bigshot but had always been out at the Flats.
“Sure. Of course I don’t know what went on in the sick creep’s mind, but after Althea showed me what she’d done with what must have become Desire Me, I wanted to see if Charley or Juno would get the joke. Althea was very funny, very entertaining.
“If you rearranged the elements of her addition, it could be interpreted as ‘I’ll have the last laugh.’ Except she didn’t. And anyway, Charley made vast changes afterward. I might not’ve been able to read the code but I could see it changing, expanding.”
Alexander stopped talking and Sean stayed silent. When he started again, he looked away from her, out across the fields, and gazed up at the daytime moon.
“The way Charley would look at me in the hallways at PS. Not-so-subtle threats he launched my way when he thought no one else would hear. About how my time was limited and an implication he meant Althea’s time as well.
“I tried to warn her, but she said I was being paranoid, it was all harmless. Finally I came to realize that as long as I stayed at Pierce, I was in danger. That was right around the time Althea lost interest in me, so I had my opening and I took it.”
“Do you think he meant to kill her?”
“Thinking and knowing are very different.”
“Which is it?”
“He meant to kill her. She was in his way and, worse, she’d escalated her infidelities and was carrying on right under his nose.”
“He’s back with Juno.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Leif asked me if I’d like to stay on and be the archivist, take over Nasir’s job, but I haven’t decided yet.” Would Morris/Alexander tell her to get out? She now knew more about him than he might want anyone at the Flats—or anyone at all—to know.
“The place grows on you. Give it a while and see what you think. I’d never intended to stay here, but now I don’t intend to leave. You know Pliny, don’t you? Came out here to escape a dead mother and an uncaring father. Now Pliny’s devoted to an in-depth examination of the caldera.”
“Pliny’s father cares. He just doesn’t have any idea how to go about it. But he’s trying.”
“So that’s who that fellow is. The one with the orange cat who’s always following him around.”
“Sebastian. Or Egon. He answers to both. The cat, I mean.”
“Good to meet you, Sean.” Alexander pointed to his chest, then patted the inscription. “There’s still hope. The movement’s not dead. And best of luck with Jonathan Lee Summers.”
He turned away, effectively dismissing Sean.
So Morris Walls knew who Jonathan Lee Summers was and that he was Pliny’s father. And knew Sean. And knew Charley was responsible for the murders. Not Juno. Although Sean wasn’t convinced Juno wasn’t also responsible. She’d started it. She was the one who designed a program that could insinuate itself into the user. Not a program, a virus. She’d admitted it the day Toby’d interviewed her.
Sean went back to the tent she shared with Jonathan Lee, the place where they made love every night, the place where they’d spent hours dissecting and analyzing what had happened, trying to get a sense of rightness about it but never succeeding. And talking about their pasts and their future. Making plans, turning over possibilities. Pliny was letting Jonathan Lee in little by little, a sometimes excruciating process, but Jonathan Lee was determined to see it through.
Chapter 63
The talented, brilliant, beautiful Juno Sangstrom. That day, many years ago, when Charley’d understood that his future, his fortune—his very life—were forever entangled with hers . . .
He loved her but he’d never tell her, not in any way that would let her know he meant it. He rarely told even himself although he understood it throughout his being. No one else could ever take her place on the altar of his soul’s imagination.
When they were developing Meet Me he saw his way out. Because as long as he stayed with Juno, lived with her, wrapped his life around her, he’d never have the singular power that was rightfully his. If the insightful Juno ever knew she was writing the code that would separate them, she never acted like she did.
Althea Livesy was perfection itself. He could love her freely, unencumbered by the weight of inescapable need. Her very existence protected him from Juno’s insistent presence. He convinced himself he couldn’t live without her, as though she were some sort of replacement for the irreplaceable Juno Sangstrom. As if anyone could fill that role.
Then Althea started flaunting her affairs. Charley was so enmeshed in his self-protective, self-invented role of needing her that he became incapable of containing his jealousy. Maybe it was more like fury. That Oliver Hirata had had interludes with both Juno and Althea had Charley hitting a breaking point, yet even that hadn’t driven him over the edge.
No, Morris Walls had that distinction. Charley had hired him, trusted him, depended on him. Then he carried on with Althea a few meters away from Charley’s own office, his private sanctuary. On Wednesdays, the days he was devoting to Althea.
If Juno hadn’t written Desire Me, what might’ve happened? Charley wondered about this sometimes. Would he be here now? Would he have been subjected to the trial? To the scrutiny?
But Desire Me was itself irresistible, presenting the ideal avenue for Charley to get rid of everyone he wanted gone from his life, from life itself. Oliver Hirata. Kaj Banerjee, who Charley suspected Juno had also dallied with although he had no proof. Althea herself, who acted like she’d never needed Charley. And to think that the silly joke she’d written into the code had been the impetus for the work he’d done, ensuring her end.
Too bad about Beryl Carson—killed, no doubt, by Juno herself. Beryl could’ve replaced Althea for a while, distracting him from Juno, taking up that deep inner zone, the one Juno ruled over.
The day he’d asked for Jonathan Lee Summers, the only person Charley could think of who might offer credible support that Juno was to blame for everything. Should he have waited for his arrival? Would Summers have come? At the trial, he’d seemed a forceful adversary to the very foundations of Pierce Sangstrom, yet even his convincing testimony had withered under the glare of an embedded cultural certainty that what he was suggesting was not only absurd but an utter impossibility.
The new lodgings next door to Pierce Sangstrom were nearly finished. Charley and Juno were living on the upper floor now while the work on the lower level was being completed. Charley’s life and work had merged. Desire Me was a thousand times more successful than Meet Me had ever been, helped along by the publicity from the trial.
Juno was working on something new, something even more compelling than Desire Me. She hadn’t let him see it yet, but he knew it would be a success and that Pierce Sangstrom would soon be the all-powerful entity he’d always envisioned.
Charley rolled over toward Juno, put his arm around her slim waist, pulled her toward him, listened to her sigh in her sleep. Thought about the day of Althea’s funeral, about the opportunity he’d had and how it’d been destroyed by Lukas Adler, one of Charley’s intended victims. Yet it hadn’t worked out, and after Althea died, he’d lost interest.
He could strangle Juno right now, in her sleep. She was much smaller than he was and she wouldn’t be able to break his grip.
It was a burden to need someone else so much, to need someone else who was a hundred times more talented and more inventive and innovative than you could ever be.
But it was also a fathomless draw, insistent, necessary. Without Juno there would be no Pierce Sangstrom, he’d be someone else, someone less than the powerful person he’d become, a person who could arrange for the deaths of everyone he wanted to eliminate.
Juno turned over and faced Charley, snuggled closer, put her mouth on his, and whispered his name.
Chapter 64
“Charley.”
He hadn’t changed. Not really. He was, if anything, more himself than he’d ever been. The very person Juno Sangstrom had been inexorably attracted to, the one she couldn’t let go of. Her need. Her desire.
