“You held that secret twenty years. I only found out an hour ago. Not my problem.”
He smiled. Good attitude. “There’ll be a spate of publicity. You’ll be a part of that. But I control everything you say, so watch your words. You should be seen far more than heard. Soon your name will be ranked with the greats.” He swept his hands across an invisible marquee. “Grant Lyndsey, one of the slayers of HIV.”
“Has a nice ring to it.”
“We’re going public within the next thirty days. In the meantime I’m going to want you to work with my patent lawyers. I plan to tell them tomorrow of our breakthrough. When the actual announcement is made, I want you at the podium. I also want samples—they’ll make great photo ops. And slides of the bacteria. We’ll have the PR people make pictures. It’ll be quite a show.”
“Do others know about this?”
He shook his head. “Not a soul, save for a woman back at the house who is, at this moment, experiencing the benefits. We need someone to show off and she’s as good as any.”
Lyndsey stepped to the other pool. Interesting that he’d not noticed what lay in the bottom of each, which was another reason he’d chosen this man. “I told you that this is an ancient place. See the letters at the bottom of the pools?”
Lyndsey found both.
“They mean life in old Greek. How they got there, I have no idea. I managed to learn from that old healer that Greeks once worshipped this area, so that might explain it. They called this mountain Klimax. Ladder, in English. Why? Probably had a lot to do with what the Asians named this place. Arima. I decided to use their name for the estate.”
“I saw the sign at the gate when I drove in. Attico. What does it mean?”
“It’s Italian for Arima. Means the same. Place at the top, like an attic.”
Malone 3 - The Venetian Betrayal
SIXTY-EIGHT
SAMARKAND
ZOVASTINA MARCHED INTO THE PALACE’S AUDIENCE CHAMBER and faced a thin man with bushy gray hair. Her foreign minister, Kamil Revin, was also there, sitting to one side. Protocol demanded his presence. The American introduced himself as Edwin Davis and produced a letter from the president of the United States that attested to his credentials.
“If I may, Minister,” Davis said in a light tone, “could we speak in private?”
She was puzzled. “Anything you would tell me, I would pass on to Kamil anyway.”
“I doubt you would pass on what we’ll be discussing.”
The words came out as a challenge, but the envoy’s facial expression never broke, so she decided to be cautious. “Leave us,” she said to Kamil.
The younger man hesitated. But after Venice and Karyn, she was not in the mood.
“Now,” she said.
Her foreign minister rose and left.
“Do you always treat your people like that?”
“This is not a democracy. Men like Kamil do as told, or—”
“One of your germs will visit their bodies.”
She should have known that even more people knew her business. But this time it ran straight to Washington. “I don’t recall your president ever complaining of the peace the Federation has brought to this region. Once this whole area was a problem, now America enjoys the benefits of a friend. And governing here is not a matter of persuasion. It’s about strength.”
“Don’t misunderstand, Minister. Your methods are not our concern. We agree. Having a friend is worth the occasional”—Davis hesitated—“personnel replacement.” His cold eyes communicated a look of begrudging respect. “Minister, I’ve come here to personally tell you something. The president did not think the usual diplomatic channels appropriate. This conversation needs to remain between us, as friends.”
What choice did she have? “All right.”
“Do you know a woman named Karyn Walde?”
Her legs tightened as emotions ricocheted through her. But she held her composure and decided to be honest. “I do. What of it?”
“She was kidnapped last night. From a house here in Samarkand. She was once your lover, and is currently afflicted with AIDS.”
She fought to maintain a dull look. “You seem to know a lot about my life.”
“We like to know all we can about our friends. Unlike you, we live in an open society where all of our secrets are either on television or the Internet.”
“And what brought you to delve into mine?”
“Does that matter? It’s fortuitous that we did.”
“And what do you know about Karyn’s disappearance?”
“A man named Enrico Vincenti took her. She’s being held at his estate, here in the Federation. Land he purchased as part of your deal with the Venetian League.”
The message was clear. This man knew many things.
“I’m also here to say that Cassiopeia Vitt is not your problem.”
She concealed her surprise.
“Vincenti. He’s your problem.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ll admit that this is just speculation on our part. In most places of the world, nobody would care about your sexual orientation. True, you were once married but, from what we’ve been able to learn, it was for appearances. He died tragically—”
“He and I never had a cross word. He understood why he was there. I actually liked him.”
“That’s not our concern, and I didn’t mean to insult. But you have remained unmarried since. Karyn Walde worked for you for a time. One of your secretaries. So, I imagine, having a private relationship with her proved easy. No one paid much attention, so long as you were careful. But central Asiais not western Europe.” Davis reached into his jacket and removed a small recorder. “Let me play something for you.” He activated the unit and stood it upright on the table between them.
“And it’s good to know your information was accurate.”
“I wouldn’t have bothered you with fantasy.”
“But you still haven’t said how you knew someone would try to kill me today.”
“The League watches over its members, and you, Supreme Minister, are one of our most important.”