Some friends of hers were crossing a bridge over the canal below. One looked up in the direction of Elaine’s window. Elaine stepped back, not wanting to be seen. Two months ago, such a thing would have been unthinkable. What was this business doing to her already?
The house system beeped an incoming call. Elaine moved back across the room and sat down to take it on the screen by the corner recliner. It was Sarda. Elaine was perplexed. “Leo? What do you want? You know we’re supposed to stay strictly off any communications. . . .” She noticed the background; it looked like a residence. It wasn’t the second-rate lodging out near the far end of Gorky, where he was hiding out, away from anywhere he might be recognized, until the time came for him to play his role. “Where are you?” she asked him.
Sarda ignored the question. Concern was written all over his face. “There’s a problem. I have to talk to you right away. Never mind whatever we said before. Everything’s changed.”
“Has Henry—”
“Never mind Henry. This just concerns us. I need to see you now. Can you meet me?”
A protest started to form on Elaine’s lips, but she stifled it before it could turn into words. There was something different about him, in his voice and in his eyes. Even in those few seconds she could feel it. For the first time in weeks she felt herself responding to the person she had laughed and loved with, then found herself falling for . . . only to watch him turn into a stranger. Something had happened—something concerning them, not Balmer’s insane scheme. That had to be what Leo wanted to talk about. She gave a quick nod. “Where?”
“You can get out by car okay?”
That seemed an odd question. Leo knew that she drove. She nodded again. “Of course.”
“There’s a strip of commercial places called Beacon Way, on the north side of Gorky near the Cherbourg tunnel. I’ll meet you at an auto, truck and mobile plant dealer’s there called Alazahad Machine. It’s closed, but I’ll be in the office. Don’t tell anyone. Come alone. Shall we say half an hour?”
Again, it seemed an odd place to choose. Elaine hadn’t known that Sarda had connections with places like that. But it made sense that he would want to avoid public places, she supposed. “Very well. Half an hour,” she agreed.
It was dark when Elaine found the strip of small office units, industrial shops, and fenced lots that formed Beacon Way. The artificial illumination inside the city was phased to match the natural daylight cycle outside. Round-the-clock lighting had been tried in earlier days, but most people found they didn’t like it.
A flashing sign of garish lights and colors announced the presence of Alazahad Machine. The place comprised a typical-looking office cabin and adjacent workshop tucked behind a distinctly non-typical assortment of vehicles and other equipment. A more solid-looking, windowless, concrete building stood immediately behind. Lights were showing in the office. A car was drawn up outside, standing apart from the stock models lined up along the front. Elaine drove in and parked next to it. It was empty, a Kodiak of some dark color impossible to discern under the flashing colors from above. A more sober mood had come over her on the way from Embarcadero. Perhaps her anxiety, wishful thinking, and the dreamer she’d been smoking had caused her to read too much into what she thought she had seen. Bracing herself to be prepared for a disappointment, she went inside.
But the person sprawled leisurely and smiling in the leather chair behind the desk in the chaotic office, his face thrown into relief by the sole light from the lamp standing at one end beside him, wasn’t Leo at all. Dressed casually but elegantly in a blue jacket with white shirt, he was lean and tanned, with a regally cut face of strong jaw, sensitive mouth, and narrow nose and cheeks, the overall effect softened by wavy brown hair. His eyes were pale blue, fixing her with an intensity that was unsettling despite his relaxed posture and easygoing expression. “Elaine, I take it,” he greeted cheerfully. “I’m so glad you could come. Sorry about the late hour and the mild deception. But as you yourself are only too well aware, we don’t have a lot of time.” He indicated a chair already drawn up on the far side of the desk. “Make yourself comfortable. There are some coffee self-brews if you’d like.”