In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) (11 page)

I started walking briskly, staring straight ahead as I concentrated on the shoreline in the distance. I begged the night to reveal the stone wall from inside the endless blanket of dark. Each step in the sand slowed me down as I sunk into the damp loose grains. The beach stretched out somehow bigger now that I trudged along it. I veered over to the packed wet sand where the tide had gone, eager to take my chances with the icy ocean soaking my shoes in exchange for more stable ground.

Within a few minutes, I saw the ring of surfboards at the boys’ campsite and the green tent shortly after; both were empty with the exception of two surfers sipping the last of their beers. Finally I saw the wall in the distance and turned to find Faith, Jonah and Cole a few paces behind me. The hippie card players were gone and two much larger men sat in their place. I froze for a moment, but my companions kept walking.

“Mike! How’s it going? Brent, nice to see you,” said Cole as he and Jonah shook hands with each of the wall’s guards.

“Have you been out here all spring?” Jonah asked.

“Do we smell? W-T-F boys!” said Faith.

I looked at Faith, at the guards, and back at Cole and Jonah. A pang of frustration swelled in my throat and I felt a frown deepen on my brow. Had Ilya been goofing off all this time? With my coworkers’ friends? My bullshit meter flicked into the red zone. I’d had enough. I walked around the group, towards the wall of bedrock. As a shout of protest erupted behind me, I plunged headfirst into the rock face.

Adrenaline surged through me as the rock turned to thick fog and I emerged face first on the other side. It was like walking through the dense air of a sauna, only cold like a walk-in fridge. I’d never felt anything like it. What lay in front of me on the other side took my breath away.

Calling this settlement a ‘camp’ sounded completely inappropriate. The scene looked like that of a music festival wedged between a wall of forest and the open ocean. The torch-lit community unfolding in front of me started with a series of open awning-style tents. The first was filled with bins of laundry and several racks of clothes hanging on lines, the second suggested a take-what-you-need clothing exchange, then another a station of dry goods shelving. The next tent looked even more bizarre; a sort of massage parlor and, from the items shelved there, possibly basic medical treatment.

I walked past each of these like an adolescent wandering through a bush party uninvited. Dozens upon dozens of people, I assumed all of them were variants, milled around and socialized. Voices chattered, mumbled, and laughed. At the far end of the beach where the light faded into dark I saw a jumble of small dome and A-frame tents stretching from the edge of the common area and into the blackness.

The largest tent in the centre housed a dozen or so picnic tables providing ample seating, although probably not for everyone on the beach. This tent had food service on the far side with a bar at the back, but only the latter was staffed. Dinner had been a buffet and it was almost depleted. Activity died down with only a few clusters of people still snacking, drinking, and talking.

A band serenaded it all from the far side of the tent, opposite the buffet. The band consisted of bongo and steel drums, a flute, and several acoustic guitars. The sound evoked a relaxed tropical ambiance making me forget for a moment that I was on British Columbia’s southern West Coast. But the scents of sandalwood and amber mingled with salmon and burnt cedar brought me back. I understood why there were so many people here–and why they wanted to hide this place.

I veered into the center tent, walking in the gap between the buffet and the picnic tables, until I reached the bar along the innermost edge. I looked back towards the start of the camp and I saw Cole, Jonah, and Faith making their way towards me, accompanied by two new strangers. Mike and Brent must have stayed at their post.

I ordered a screwdriver from the bar and I wasn’t surprised that they weren’t exchanging money. When I asked how much the drink cost, the middle-aged shirtless bartender simply smiled through his stubble and pushed the glass across the counter. What, if anything, were we going to do now?

I took the drink and walked back towards the entrance where I sat facing the ocean to wait for my friends. I sipped my screwdriver and savored the sweet-sour zing of the orange juice with the warmth of the vodka. As my friends approached with the two strangers, the torchlight of the tent highlighted their features and I recognized both new faces. The tall tanned blonde girl was the masseuse I’d seen in my vision. The guy was the elusive Ilya. I’d know him anywhere.

“Check it out, the search is over,” said Cole.

Jonah grinned below arched eyebrows. Faith’s brow furrowed and she looked like she wanted to be elsewhere in spite of the utopian surroundings.

“Well, we meet at last.” I extended my hand and resurrected the plastic smile I used for people like Innoviro’s Melissa or customers at my old car dealership job. “I began to think you were a figment of my imagination.”

“I did plant a few suggestions, so technically, I was.” Ilya smiled warmly and shook my hand. “Took you long enough to find me.”

Something in me softened. His presence made me comfortable, like coming home after a long vacation.

“So it looks like you guys have a lot to discuss. We’ll grab some drinks and go mingle on the beach.” Jonah led Cole, Faith, and the blonde girl back to the bar.

I looked at Ilya, taking in his features and body language now that I finally had the real thing in front of me. “I do have quite a few questions for you. Why
did
you plant visions in my mind? Was it to get me out here? And are there many other people like you that can mess with minds? Other than Rubin, for example?”

“I took a chance when I reached out. Before I left Innoviro, I heard my father talking about a new variant he wanted Rubin to recruit. He sometimes does that. If he finds someone he really wants to study, he’ll invest substantial resources in bringing that person into the Innoviro family.”

“So I guess I have you both to thank for my little introduction to the screwed up world of variants.”

“My father would have found you even if I hadn’t reached out. You were already a variant, so you would have had to deal with this sooner or later. I’m surprised you hadn’t discovered that on your own long before now. Most people notice it around puberty, unless their variation is the result of some tampering later in life. So what exactly did spark your psychic abilities? You must have had some trigger to wake it up after all this time.”

I froze. I pictured my deck of Tarot cards. At that moment, I started to question whether or not it was a coincidence that I felt ‘drawn’ to them at the farmer’s market. My rune security pendant and my herbal tea already suggested there was more than pure science involved–no science I understood, at any rate. Maybe my cards were more than Rubin made out as well. I sat there in silence, looking down at my hands.

“You have the look of someone whose life has been tampered with for someone else’s gain. I felt the same way after I started spending time with the variants living in the sewer. I came to believe that my father isn’t the benevolent leader he wants everyone to think he is. Once I realized his experiments weren’t solely intended to heal variants, I dug around in his mind a bit. I didn’t get very far. Of course the ever-vigilant Rubin noticed and reported me. My father was furious and started making Aunt Tatiana give me an injection that dulled my senses - all of them. When I couldn’t take it anymore I left.”

“That sounds pretty damn familiar. Ivan wanted me to take some kind of experimental drug, which I did, but I also stumbled onto some sketchy stuff in one of the research labs. And that’s only one lab.”

“True. There
is
a lot more going on at Innoviro than any of us knows. Before I had Aunt Tatiana’s shot forced on me, I’d probed more than my father’s mind, particularly when I couldn’t get anything from him. I peeked into a few other staff members’ heads, genuinely hoping to vindicate my father. No such luck. I never found anything damning either, but I thought I’d gotten close with one of our techs named Brad.”

“I know who you mean. I didn’t know him well. I didn’t get anywhere near as close to staff or the labs.” I plunged my face into both palms. This whole plan was vague and hopeless. I sat back up and gulped down the rest of my screwdriver. “I’m going to need another one of these.”

After I returned from the bar, Ilya continued educating me about his own powers and his suspicions about the real mission behind Innoviro’s research. “What you need to understand about me is how I’m different from you.”

“You’ve lost me already.”

“My gift is all about perception. Whether I listen to someone’s thoughts or plant an image in their mind, I’m either interpreting what they think or giving them a new version of reality. Neither of which is necessarily fact-based. Most people’s thoughts are never an accurate portrayal of reality.”

I nodded, agreeing and understanding what he said.

Keeping his gaze focused on me, he continued talking, “You, on the other hand, have a window into true events of the past or present, as well as the possible events of the future. At least as far as I understand psychic ability versus telepathy in general.”

I regretted drinking any alcohol, let alone having a second drink. I swirled the remaining orange liquid in my glass. It did make sense, on some level, that Ilya read minds, while I read reality as it had unfolded or would likely come to pass. The biochemical mechanics of both were an utter mystery and I fought the urge to try to understand how either was possible. I assured myself that the problem at hand was figuring out Ivan’s plans rather than deciphering the specific cellular activity in my grey matter.

“I get that what we both do is actually pretty different. Everyone else’s variation seems more obvious I suppose. What about that other girl? In my vision of you walking through the wall, you were with the same blonde girl, but her fingers glowed. What does she ‘do’ as her variation?”

“Camille is a healer. Some variations delve more into magic than science in my opinion, and I think hers qualifies. When Camille touches you, she can see if anything is biologically wrong. If you’re physically or mentally unwell, she can often heal the damage. Not always, but she’s usually very effective.”

“Wow. That’s just . . . wow. What about everyone else? You’ve all built quite the little commune out here. Are you planning to stay indefinitely?” I said, half joking.

“For now, I’m trying to gather as many benign or neutral-tempered variants as possible and offer them a sort of community. I guess I’m endeavoring to do what my father only pretends to accomplish. But it’s been difficult reaching people that Rubin may be monitoring. And I have to remain careful that I don’t misunderstand a person’s nature. We can’t have the wrong sort of people joining us out here–or someone will tip off Innoviro. We’ll either be threatened or taken by force.”

“Shouldn’t we put a stop to what Ivan’s doing? If we shut him down, he won’t be able to take advantage of anyone else and you won’t need to hide out here.”

“That’s easier said than done. I’m not a hero and I’m not willing to start a war with my own father. I’m hoping to understand why he’s doing the things he is so I can help him change his ways, to get back on the path to making life easier for variants. He
is
my father and I have to believe he doesn’t really want to ruin lives. And we’re all quite happy out here. Most variants have to live discreetly to some degree anyway.”

“I agree that something awful is happening at Innoviro, but I think you’ve only scratched the surface. What will you do if my gut is right and Ivan is doing something unforgivable?”  “I’ve considered that of course, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, no matter what you believe, it’s important that we don’t underestimate my father. Innoviro has offices in London, San Francisco, and Shanghai, with more research facilities. They have money and access to God-knows-what in terms of pharmaceuticals, weapons, and security personnel. I know you’ve met Hugo. There are others like him.”

“I can’t help but wonder about the end game for this company. What are Ivan and Tatiana trying to achieve? Jonah’s expertise is in genetics, so his being there already makes sense. But Cole is a geologist. And I know there are other biologists on staff that work with animals. I’ve seen them getting carried down in cages, but none ever return. If Ivan is willing to experiment on people directly, what does he need with live animals? And I made arrangements for him to attend a fossil fuel conference in Calgary. What’s that got to do with anything?” I said.

“I couldn’t say for sure, but it’s probably not good.”

“Let’s go back and finish what you started. Let’s find evidence. We’ll call the police. There must be some documentation to outline what’s really going on, in all departments.”

“My father is meticulous, so there probably is evidence. But he undoubtedly also thought to put all kinds of security in place, high tech, physical, and structural.”

“Why don’t we call a meeting for everyone here who’s worked at Innoviro? If we all put our heads together, something is bound to get clearer.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you frightening anyone. I’ve worked hard to keep these people calm so they feel safe here.”