Double Helix Ch. 10

"Hello." The voice was gravelly and had a bit of a twang.

"Hello. I'm calling about firewood," I said. That was the phrase that Dan had told me to use.

There was a pause. "Buying or selling?"

"I'm buying. I'd like to meet you tomorrow night, if that's possible."

"Write this down." I motioned for a pen and pad of paper on the desk and Stan handed them to me. The man on the phone gave me an address in Portland. "Be there at 11 PM. Park around back, get out and walk up to the back door. Wait there for me."

"I'll be there," I promised, and hung up.

"All set, then?" Nock asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I thought I'd head up in the morning to stake out the location a bit beforehand. I want to be sure I'm not heading into another trap."

"I thought Dan's worked with him before?" Wendy asked.

"He has, but that was last fall. He could have turned informant since then. I'd better go check the truck, make sure it's still running." I started for the door.

"Wait up, I'll help," Nissi said.

We had left the truck on the side of the barn to hide it from people passing by on the road, starting it up every week or so. I put the keys in the ignition and twisted. The truck's engine turned over a few times and groaned to life. It rose in pitch for a few seconds before settling into a smooth idle. "I'm going to let the battery charge," I said and hopped out.

I went around to the back and lifted the door. The cargo area was empty, cleared out weeks before, but I wanted to double check. I closed it and set the latch. It was only then that I realized that Nissi was humming.

"What song is that?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, new song. It's been bugging me for like two weeks. I left all my notebooks behind at Sasha's and there's not a whole lot of stationery here, so it's just been in limbo."

I realized then that I hadn't seen Nissi compose a song in weeks. "I can get some notebooks when I go out tomorrow," I said.

"Well," she said, sighing, "it would be nice to get this thing out of my head. But don't take any risks you don't have to, please?"

I gave her a kiss. "I won't, I promise."

I turned off the truck and popped the hood, and Nissi helped me check all the fluids. "Oil's a bit low," she said. "If you stop at the store, you might want to pick up a quart." She replaced the dipstick and stared at the engine while I checked the brake fluid.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

She started to shake her head, but then stopped, her brow creasing. "I was just thinking. If we can't get out of the country, or even if we can, what do we do? What's our purpose?"

"Our purpose? Staying alive isn't enough?"

"Well, is it enough? Before the Ban, I made a living on my songs. I wasn't a household name or anything, but three of them made it into the top 40. I wasn't saving the world, but at least I was doing something people liked. I mean, think about it. We're defrauding a bank so we'll have money to live on. We broke into this house and pointed a gun at Dan when he showed up. All of these terrible things we've had to do, what's it all for?"

I was glad that she hadn't mentioned the cop I had killed, but I knew it was on her mind. "There's Stan's network."

"Yes, there's that," she admitted. "If we can convince the Agency to adopt it. I'm not all that certain they'll go for it. Didn't Sasha tell you that they were getting downright paranoid?"

"They need this network," I said. "Being isolated makes them vulnerable. And if Dan's right. . ." I trailed off, thinking through the implications. "If Dan's right about what they're doing to genemods, they need to know about it. They need to know that staying hidden is their only chance for survival. There's what? Two more months of supposed amnesty? More and more are going to turn themselves over as we get closer to the deadline." I replaced the last dipstick and let the hood drop.

"Well, if we can make that kind of difference, I guess I'll be happy," she said. She pressed up against me and put her arms around me. "And you make me happy." We held each other close. I hardly ever noticed the height difference anymore, except when she rested her cheek on top of my head, as she did now. She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush of words, "Norm, I want to tell you something."

I pulled back and searched her eyes. "What is it?"

"I want you to know my real name."

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"We know Stan and Stansy's first names. I want you to know mine." She took another deep breath and let it out again. "It's harder than I thought. Okay, here goes. My name is Amanda."

I tried to suppress a chuckle, but it burst out of me anyway. Nissi frowned. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry. It's just, I've always thought your real name would be Tinúviel or something." I barely managed to finish before I hit another fit of giggles. She was still frowning, so I got myself under control. "I'm sorry," I said again. "I like it, really. Amanda. It's nice."

"You don't think it's strange or wrong? I wasn't expecting you to laugh."

I shook my head. "No, it suits you. Like I said, I expected an Elvish name. I was a little surprised."

"Well, that was my mother's influence," she said, smiling. "My dad wanted to call me Mithrellas, so that's my middle name." She looked at me expectantly. "So."

It was my turn to feel trepidation. It had been months since I had heard my real name. I swallowed down the lump of anxiety. "My name is Martin."

Nissi nodded slowly. "Martin. Marty. I like it. Still a little old-fashioned, but not as stuffy as Norman. I won't tell anyone else unless you tell me to, okay?"

"I won't tell anyone yours either," I promised, "Amanda." She gave me another kiss, and we went back inside.

Nonna was sitting on the couch when we walked in, along with Stansy and Wendy. "Hello, Norm, Nissi," she said.

"How are you today?" I asked.

"I am fine. I worry about my Aleksandra." She pointed at the television.

I moved around where I could see. The news program had an inset with Sasha's face. I read the text scrolling on the screen. "She's being remanded to the custody of the Justice Department."

"They charge her with treason," Nonna said, and she was suddenly shaking with anger. She spat something in Russian that sounded like a curse.

I thought of Dan's claim, that genemods and sympathizers were being tried in secret. Sasha's case was different because of the publicity that the officer's death had caused. The McCain administration had seized upon that incident as proof that genemods were dangerous outlaws. No one knew that a normal human had been responsible, or if they did, they were concealing that fact from the public. I felt both ashamed and angry that the government was using my actions to bolster anti-genemod sentiment.

"The trial will take months," Stansy said, "maybe longer. There's midterm elections coming up, and the administration is going to milk this for all it's worth."

"Bastards," Nissi said.

"She come to this country for freedom," Nonna said. "Now they lock her in cage."

"I'm so sorry, Nonna," Wendy said.

The old woman ruffled Wendy's hair. "Is not your fault, little one. Resistance, it is in our blood. Nikolai, my husband, he was caught and killed by KGB. He ran guns to separatists in Ukraine."

It was the first I had heard directly of any kind of violent history in Sasha's family, but I had often wondered. Russia under Communism has suffered dozens of rebellions, revolts, and coups. There had been a brief period in the late 1970s and early 80s of peace and relative economic and social freedom, but a hard line Leninist faction within the party had taken control in the late 80s. The nation had quickly plunged into chaos and violence. After that, the region that was formerly the Ukraine had attempted to overthrow Communist rule, fighting a bloody war that lasted for three years.

"How did you get Sasha out of the country?" I asked.

"After Nikolai was killed, I look for way to get her to safety. Some friends get her over border into Poland. From there, she travel to US embassy and request asylum. I come same way five years ago, during big famine."

That was after the Rot had first appeared, almost simultaneously, in France and Jordan, and began to spread. It had stalled in the arid Middle East, but agriculture in Europe had been devastated. Nearly a billion people had died of starvation and rioting that year. The rot had spread across Europe, missing the UK but showing up in every other country within a year.

When it had begun to spread in the Soviet puppet-state of Belarus, Russia's response had been both brutal and effective. They had simply burned everything in a diagonal line west of Kiev and Minsk out to the very border of Soviet territory, and a three-hundred mile swath across the land between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea. Though the tactic had worked in stopping the blight from devastating all of Russia's food crops, and potentially continuing East into India and China, it had resulted in the destruction of thousands of square miles of farmland. The resulting famine had very nearly destabilized the regime.

People continued to die each year around the world in the tens of millions. The Rot had not spread to Africa yet, but ironically that continent accounted for about a fourth of the annual deaths. Agricultural firms from North America and Europe had set up massive farming operations in central and southern Africa, after local governments had taken payments to force their own farmers off the land. Under international trade agreements, most of that grain was exported to Europe and North America, leaving many of the displaced farmers in Africa to starve. The outcry in the west had been vocal but depressingly small. Most nations were too busy struggling to feed their own populaces to worry about the poorest of the poor, even if they were being effectively murdered.

I gave Nissi a peck on the lips. "I'm going to go check on Stan."

I stopped just inside the door, seeing Tilly bent over the terminal with Stan. She turned to regard me before I could retreat from the room. "I, uh, I need to go do something," Tilly said, standing. She kept her eyes on the floor as she walked past me.

I walked over and dropped into the chair that Tilly had just vacated. "How's it going?"

Stan took the pen that he had been holding between his teeth and pointed with it at the terminal screen. "We think we know how he got the IP for the Santiago node. When we started having the others connect, he searched out all of the most likely routers that Thomas would use from Melbourne to connect to Santiago. He intercepted the initial handshake request and tried to convince Thomas' node that it was talking to Santiago."

"Who, Sam? The certifiable hacker?"

"Certified ethical hacker," Stan corrected. "He couldn't have done it if he hadn't already known where the endpoints were geographically and exactly when we had Thomas try to connect." Stan sounded defensive, as though he took it personally that this hacker had almost gotten through his security.

"You and Tilly are doing a great job," I told him. "He blew right through the university's security, but never broke into yours."

"Yeah, but they had a serious vulnerability that we didn't think to check. Tilly's brilliant with code, but she doesn't have enough real-world experience with security threats. That makes this my fault. We'll fix it, though."

He looked over his shoulder, checking the door, before leaning close. "Is there something wrong with Tilly?"

I shook my head slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she hasn't been like her old self, but she's not been like her new self either. Not sad, but more subdued. I've caught her staring off into space a few times the last couple of days. I don't know if it's anything to worry about, but I thought you might know."

I shook my head again. The lie came easily. "I have no idea. Maybe she's just been working hard on the network."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that could be. We've got four more universities to link up before the end of the week, and I've got to make some changes to our encryption algorithm. Not going to let Mr. Sam I Am make me look like a fool again."

"I'm sure you'll do great," I said, patting his shoulder. I pretended to have just thought of something. "Say, you said when we left Sasha's house that you backed up the local storage on the old terminal. Did you save everything?"

"Yeah, as far as I know. Was there something you needed off there? It's all saved to the cloud. Free backup service based outside the States."

"Yeah, do you think you could point me to the location and give me some time to look through those files? I had some private stuff on there."

"Yeah, sure. Nothing that could give your identity or location away, I hope. You can't be too careful."

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Just something I was reading."

He nodded and pulled up the storage site, entering a login and passcode to get in. "Here you go. The contents of the terminal's flash storage are here, all indexed just like it was before. How much time do you need?"

"I'll come get you. Shouldn't be too long. Twenty minutes, maybe."

"Alright. Be careful." He stood and left me alone with the terminal.

I browsed immediately to the notes on Tilly's model and opened the file. I looked for anything about pheromones, but found nothing to indicate that Kelly's team had employed something of the kind, or even if they had discovered anything new to help with the incomplete and ambiguous knowledge that was out there already. Next, I went through the extensive notes on Tilly's happiness drive and pseudo-empathic abilities, but there was no mention there of sexual attraction.

I started scanning the document page by page for some explanation, but failed to find anything of interest. Sighing, I exited the website, got up and went to find Stan. "All yours," I said, pointing a thumb over my shoulder.

We discussed my trip to Portland over dinner. Wendy told me to get tofu if the seller had any. It was an imperfect substitute for meat, but it did help with the taste and texture of many of the rice dishes we made.

"See if he has any potatoes and onions," Nissi said. "I really miss Sasha's garden."

"Tomatoes," Stan said. "I would give anything for a bowl of spaghetti, even if we have to make it with rice noodles."

"Anyone got a pen and paper?" I asked.

"Don't worry, I got it," Stansy said, jotting the items down. "If you can get some beans, I have all the spice I need to make veggie chili."

"Okay, add that," I said.

"Oh, anyone remember chili and cornbread?" Nock said. "Real beef chili with cheese and cornbread with a little butter on top."

"I haven't had real butter in eight years," Stan said. "Just margarine. What I really miss, though, is ice cream."

Wendy groaned dramatically. "No, don't bring up ice cream. Mint chip on a waffle cone. I can almost taste it now."

"Don't drool, dear," Stansy said, tossing Wendy a napkin. "Brownie fudge sundae with whipped cream."

Nock put up his hand and paused dramatically when the others looked at him. "Bacon cheeseburger," he said slowly.

"Oh, you asshole," Nissi said, and for once, she was good-natured about it. Then she got a wicked gleam in her eye. "Baby. Back. Ribs."

"Nissi!" Wendy and Stan said together, followed by a chorus of outrage from the others.

"Okay, enough with the impossible foods," I said, talking over the others. "Any other legitimate requests?"

"I should go with you," Tilly said.

The rest of the table went quiet, and I turned to look at her. She hadn't said anything to me directly in more than two days. "I'm going alone," I said, speaking to the table at large, rather than directly to Tilly. "I can't risk bringing any of you."

"I can help with the seller," she said. "I can tell if he's lying. If there's a chance this guy might betray us, I'll know it immediately. I've thought about it since you made that call. You need me there."

"No," I repeated. "I'm not going to put anyone else in danger."

"Norm?" Nissi said. "She's got a point. You said the only reason you and Sasha weren't captured that night is that she figured out something was wrong. Tilly can help. I don't like the idea of you going at all, but I'll feel a little better if you take her."

She was right. I could put my foot down and refuse to take Tilly, but it would look downright irrational to do so. The last thing I needed was to have Nissi wondering what I had against Tilly.

"Alright," I said, and didn't have to feign my reluctance. "I'll bring her with me."

I looked at Tilly, but she was looking not at me, but at Nissi. I wished in that moment that I had her ability to read another person's emotional state. Sometimes I felt like I barely knew her.

Wendy had dish duty tonight, and Nissi and I sneaked off upstairs while the others gathered around the television. We took a shower together, and Nissi couldn't resist "helping" me to wash my cock clean. We toweled off and I caught Nissi staring at her reflection in the mirror, idly touching her pointed ears and the sharp sweep of her eyebrows.

"Is something the matter?" I asked.

"There are times I wish I was more like Tilly," Nissi said. She met my eyes in the mirror. "More like the rest of you, I mean, other than Nock. This face gives me away in an instant."

"You have a beautiful face," I said, and came up behind her to encircle her tall, lithe body in my arms.

She nodded and smiled at me in the mirror, but it quickly faded. "I'm afraid for you, Martin," she said, casting her voice low so that it wouldn't carry to the others. "I can't be there to protect you tomorrow."

"Protect me?" I said. "I'm the only one of us with a gun."

"Maybe it's time to do something about that. Maybe we should all learn to shoot."

I was surprised by the unexpected turn. "Well, I'd never thought of that." There was plenty of room on the property to set up our own range. I had just under two boxes of .45 ACP, which wouldn't go very far if everyone else started practicing. The problem was that my alter ego, Mark Winston, might be tainted now. I couldn't buy guns or ammo without a license.

"Maybe our black market seller can get us some guns and ammo," I suggested. I felt a little bit sick as I thought about it though. Likely the only reason we would need to have guns would be to defend ourselves against the FBI. They had enough resources to make any resistance we might put up seem childish.

"Yeah, maybe so," Nissi said. She turned in my embrace and put her arms around me. "I hate this," she said, "always being in fear of our lives or afraid for someone else. I wish I had some hope that it might someday be different." All that I could have offered was empty platitudes, so I didn't even try. Nissi held me for a time, but then frowned, stepping back slightly to look down. Her voice changed tone completely. "Oh, that will never do."

"What are you . . .?" I began, but quick as that, Nissi dropped to her knees on the bathroom floor and enveloped my cock with her lips. Under her attention, it didn't take long for it to rise to full length and hardness.

"That's more like it," she said. She took hold of it and caressed it between her fingers. She released me after a moment and stepped around me, into our bedroom. I followed her, enjoying the view of her crimson hair hanging low on her back, swaying above her perfect ass. She stopped at the edge of the bed and turned to face me, pursing her lips in thought. "There's been something I've been wanting to try."

"Oh, I've heard that before," I said with a grin.

"At that house in Arkansas, I used to do some Dom/sub bondage play with that Neri I told you about. It was pretty hot, and I've been thinking about it lately. Think you'd like to try it?" I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was again outside my area of expertise, but I had read and heard enough to at least know the terminology. "Okay. Who's domming who?"