In the bathroom she brushed her teeth vigorously, trying to rid herself of the lingering taste of yesterday. She spit into the sink and glanced at herself in the mirror, water dripping from her lower lip. Her face was so pale that the light sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks seemed abnormally dark in comparison. Her eyes were slightly puffy from crying in the middle of the night. She dried off her face and went downstairs.
In the kitchen her mom was reading the newspaper and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. When she saw Reese, she dropped the paper and came over to feel Reese’s forehead. “How are you doing? You don’t seem to be burning up anymore.”
“I’m hungry.” She brushed past her mom to open the pantry cabinet.
“Well, that’s a good sign. Sit down, and I’ll make you some eggs before I go to work.”
Reese moved to the table and slid heavily into a chair. Her mom had been reading the arts section of the Chronicle, and the front page lay beside it, discarded. There was a photo of President Randall just below the masthead, shaking hands with Canada’s prime minister. President Randall Attends Canadian Memorial for June 19 Crash Victims in Toronto.
“Have some juice first,” her mom said, placing a glass in front of Reese. She started, and her mom gave her an inquisitive look. “I’m a little worried about you, honey.”
Reese picked up the juice and took a sip. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”
Her mom watched her for a moment longer and then pursed her lips. “All right. How about some scrambled eggs?”
“Sure.” She stared at the top news story as she heard her mom open the fridge.
TORONTO—On Tuesday, President Randall attended a memorial for Canadian victims of the June 19 crashes at Toronto’s St. Michael’s Cathedral. Approximately two hundred Canadians died in plane crashes in New Jersey and outside Toronto last month. “I’m here to express the American people’s sympathy and shared grief over these senseless deaths, and to assure Canadians that we in the United States are doing everything we possibly can to get to the bottom of what happened,” President Randall said in a brief press conference after the service.
It’s all a bunch of lies, Reese thought. She pushed the paper away and dropped her head into her hands. She was grateful when her mom set a plate of food in front of her because it gave her something to do. She wolfed down two scrambled eggs and was buttering her second piece of toast when the doorbell rang. Her mom, who had been packing up her briefcase while surreptitiously watching Reese eat, glanced toward the hallway. “That’s weird. Who would be here at eight in the morning?”
She went to answer the door. Reese dropped the toast onto her plate, her palms growing clammy. She had a bad feeling about this, and as she heard her mom open the front door, her apprehensiveness solidified into dreadful certainty.
Amber’s voice floated toward her from the front door.
Reese heard her mom inviting her in. She heard their footsteps come down the hall. She stiffened in her seat as her mom returned to the kitchen and said, “Look who stopped by.”
It made Reese’s stomach twist just to look at her. The smile on Amber’s face faded into one of confusion. “Reese? Are you sick?”
Her mom glanced from Amber to Reese as she picked up her briefcase and travel mug of coffee. “I have to get to the office, so I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll let you know when the locksmith is coming; I’m hoping to meet him here this afternoon. Call me if you need anything.” She squeezed Reese’s shoulder briefly before she left.
Reese almost wanted to call her back, but she couldn’t speak. The front door opened and closed. Her heart was pounding, and she was cold everywhere, and her stomach was threatening to reject the entire breakfast she had just inhaled.
Amber came over to her, concern forming lines on her forehead. She leaned over as if to kiss her, but at the last moment her lips only skimmed Reese’s cheek. “Hey,” Amber said, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting beside her. “Why didn’t you call me back? I was worried your mom freaked out about us and took away your phone or something.”
Reese thought: She doesn’t know that I know. Reese wanted to fake it herself, to pretend like nothing was wrong, to say, I’m fine, and to kiss her shining mouth again. As if Amber could sense her desire, she leaned forward and reached for Reese’s hand, pulling it from where it was clenched into a fist on her thigh. She loosened Reese’s fingers, interlacing them with her own. Reese felt betrayed by her own body, because even though she knew that she was just an assignment to Amber, all of her shivered at Amber’s touch. But as Amber bowed her head to hers, Reese couldn’t bring herself to forget the businesslike tone in Amber’s voice as she asked Dr. Brand, What do you want me to do in the meantime?
Reese jerked her hand out of Amber’s and pushed back her chair, the legs screeching against the floor. Standing up and putting space between them was like wrenching herself free from a powerful magnet, and she still felt pulled toward Amber, who seemed stunned by her abrupt leap out of the chair.
“What’s wrong?” Amber asked.
Reese went to the sink, putting nearly the entire length of the kitchen between them, and turned on the tap to pour herself a glass of water. She heard Amber push back her own chair and stand as well, but when Reese turned, Amber had stayed on the other side of the kitchen. She looked utterly perplexed.
Reese took a deep breath and asked, “How do you know Dr. Brand?”
Surprise spread over Amber’s face. “Who?”
Anger flared in Reese at Amber’s pretense of ignorance. “Dr. Evelyn Brand,” she said slowly, enunciating the name clearly. “How do you know her?”
Amber shook her head, the confusion on her face deepening. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. What do you mean?”
“Don’t lie to me,” Reese said harshly. She put down the water glass. “How do you know Dr. Brand?”
Amber raised her hands. “Reese, I’m not lying to you!”
She sounded so sincere that Reese almost believed her.
“I swear I’m not lying,” Amber insisted. “Who is this person? Why are you asking me this?”
“I saw you yesterday. Outside your house. I saw you with her.”
Amber’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t know what you saw, Reese, but it’s not what you think. I’m not dating anyone else—”
“I don’t think you’re dating her!” Amber’s effort at turning her question into an accusation of infidelity infuriated her, and for a second she could see through Amber entirely. The person who stood before her, wearing so perfectly the face of a beautiful young woman, was a total stranger to her. Reese had thought it didn’t matter that she knew so little about Amber. She had thought their physical connection made up for it. But what did it ultimately mean? Only that Amber knew how she liked to be kissed.
Reese was disgusted with herself for being so blind. “You know who I’m talking about.” Her voice sounded rough and hard, like the voice of a stranger. “Tell me how you know her. Dr. Brand.”
Amber’s expression of confusion changed into indignation. “No, I don’t know who you’re talking about. You’re acting crazy. What is going on?”
Amber’s flat denials made Reese burn with frustration. “I came by your house yesterday morning, and I saw Dr. Brand leaving. You followed her outside. You talked about what I painted on my wall. She told you to continue with your assignment. Does that ring a bell?”
Amber’s cheeks flushed. She crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t know what you saw or heard, but the only person I talked to yesterday besides you was my mother. I have no idea who this Dr. Evelyn Brand person is, and I don’t know why you think it’s so important.”
Reese was devastated. Amber was obviously just going to continue to deny it all, and the worst part was, the more she denied it, the more it made Reese wonder if she really was going crazy. Had she imagined it all? Was this another side effect of whatever had happened to her at the hospital?
“Come on, Reese,??
? Amber said, as if she sensed Reese’s self-doubt. “I swear I don’t know this woman. And you’re not an assignment. I care about you.” She stepped closer to her, stretching out one hand to touch Reese’s arm tentatively. There was a pleading look in her gray eyes. “Please believe me.”
But Amber’s words had stopped Reese cold. “I never said that I was the assignment.”
Amber’s face turned white.
Reese pulled away from her. “You’re a liar. You should leave.”
“Reese, please—”
“Get out.” Reese turned her back on her, going to stand at the kitchen window. She couldn’t bear to look at Amber anymore.
After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, she heard Amber pick up her bag and walk out. A minute later, the front door closed with a click.
CHAPTER 29
Reese went back to bed, but she had slept too much already, and all she could do was toss and turn as the conversation with Amber replayed itself over and over in her mind. She was stunned that Amber had flat-out denied knowing Dr. Brand. If Amber hadn’t slipped up at the end, Reese might have given in to the fear that she had hallucinated the whole thing. But now she knew that Amber was part of whatever had happened to her and David in the Nevada desert. She began to wonder how Amber had managed to arrange their supposedly accidental meeting on the corner of 19th and Dolores. Everything, now, seemed incredibly deliberate.
The doorbell rang, startling her.
She sat up. Was it Amber again? Even though she was instantly nauseous at the idea of seeing her again so soon, a thread of hope yanked her out of bed to the top of the stairs, where she looked down at the quiet, empty hallway. The doorbell rang again, followed by knocking and someone calling her name.
It wasn’t Amber. It was Julian.
Reese ran down the stairs and opened the door. Julian’s sunglasses were pushed up into his curly hair, his brows drawn together as he scowled at her. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“What? My phone hasn’t been ringing.” She let Julian in and ran back up to her room.
Her phone was still and silent on her desk. When she picked it up, she saw that the ringer had been turned off. She had missed four calls—two from Julian, one from David, one from Amber—as well as several text messages. She clicked on Julian’s message from yesterday as she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs.
> I left my jacket in your car. I need to come over and get it. Are you around?
“My mom must have turned off the ringer,” she said to Julian. “I’ve been asleep. And I have your jacket.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday? Are you sick?”
“No, I—” She cut herself off, rubbing a hand over her eyes. She felt groggy. “Do you want to go get some coffee?”
Julian regarded her thoughtfully for a minute. “Sure.”
She pulled his jacket from her desk chair and held it out to him, then quickly laced on her sneakers. “Let’s go,” she said, pocketing her phone and grabbing her wallet.
“What’s going on?” Julian asked as he followed her out of the house. “You’re acting all weird.”
She locked the front door behind them and headed down the path to the sidewalk. “I just need some caffeine.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Amber yet. “Sorry I didn’t hear your calls. What’s up?”
Julian fell into step beside her as they walked east toward Church Street. “I looked into that company, EC and R. That’s why I called you. Apparently they were acquired a couple of years ago by this corporation called Allied Research Associates, which is headquartered in San Francisco.”
“What kind of research do they do?”
“Military, engineering, stuff like that. They’re a big government contractor that now owns a bunch of other government contractors, including EC and R. Anyway, I was looking into EC and R because I wanted to find out what projects they handled. I was right; a lot of those projects supposedly took place at Area 51. They started out working for the Atomic Energy Commission way back during the Manhattan Project, when the US was building its first atomic bomb, and they’ve continued to do various jobs for the government.”
Reese glanced at Julian curiously. “Where did you find all this out? Is it just online?”
“No, but this journalist did an exposé on Area 51 a couple of years ago, and a lot of this info on EC and R is in her book. Most of the book is about the development of spy planes like the U-2, but that’s probably because that’s all she could get her sources to talk about.”
“Do you think EC and R is also behind that Project Plato thing I told you about?”
“I don’t know. I looked that up too, but I couldn’t find much beyond what you said. If it’s a real government project, it’s highly classified. But I did find out that EC and R was involved in a DARPA-funded project to create super soldiers who could heal really fast from combat injuries.”
“You mean regeneration?” she said, giving Julian a startled look.
“Yeah, and also other things, like not needing to sleep or eat for long periods of time.”
They turned onto Church Street and headed for the doughnut shop. “We need to figure out what Plato is and whether EC and R is involved with it,” she said. “That hospital bracelet is the one real piece of evidence I have.” She needed more information before she could understand what had happened to her and David, and she was growing impatient. “You said EC and R is owned by some company headquartered in San Francisco?”
“Yes, Allied Research Associates. They’re downtown.”
“We have to go there.” She opened the door to the doughnut shop.
Julian raised his eyebrows, following her inside. “What, just walk in and demand answers?”
“Can I help you?” said the middle-aged Asian woman behind the cash register.
Reese ordered a glazed old-fashioned and a coffee with cream, and Julian ordered a chocolate frosted and a black coffee. They took their sugar and caffeine outside and found an empty bench in the square where the farmers market set up on weekends. She peeled off the lid of her coffee and blew on it before taking a sip.
“Obviously we aren’t going to walk into their headquarters and demand answers,” Reese said, picking up their conversation. A sense of urgency gripped her. “We’ll have to figure out some way to sneak in or hack their system.” She took a bite of her doughnut, the sugar glaze crumbling onto her tongue.
Julian pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. “You smoked like half the pack,” he chided her.
“No, I didn’t. You shouldn’t be smoking anyway. I’m saving your life.” She watched him strike a match and light up. “Do you know anyone who can, you know, help us break in?”
He gave her a wary look. “You’re starting to freak me out, Reese. I don’t know if we should be breaking in anywhere now that we know you’re being tailed by men in black.”
“You mean the guys in suits? I thought Men in Black was just a movie.”
“It is a movie, but I’m not talking about Will Smith. The men in black are real. They’re special agents who work for a branch of AFOSI.”
“The what?”
“Air Force Office of Special Investigations.”
“What is it with the government and stupid acronyms?” Frustration gnawed at her. “Whatever, I don’t care who’s following me. I have to find out what really happened to me and David, and that means I have to figure out what Plato is. Besides, somebody clearly broke into my house to put those recording devices in the walls. Why should I obey the law if they won’t? We need to find a way to get into that office; there’s got to be some information there on who’s doing this.” Her voice rose, and several passersby turned to glance at her. Julian was watching her as if she were a firecracker about to explode.
“Reese, what is going on? You’re not acting like yourself.”
She glared down at her coffee, her fingers squeezing against the paper cup. “Amber kn
ows Dr. Brand,” she said in a low voice.
“What are you talking about?”
She explained what had happened the day before, and how Amber had come over this morning, only to deny it all. She made her voice hard, dismissive. “She’s totally lying, and she expects me to believe her.”
“That’s crazy! You mean she—she—” Julian sounded stunned.
Reese couldn’t look at him. Her throat closed up. A rush of something desperate and achy swept through her, and she swallowed, trying to force it down. “Can I have a cigarette?” she asked, putting the coffee down onto the bench beside her. Silently, Julian handed her the pack, then struck a match for her. She cupped her hand around the flame and inhaled, the taste of the cigarette bitter against the back of her throat. “Thanks.”
They sat together quietly while she smoked, the nicotine buzzing through her body and making her head woozy. Someone had dropped a muffin on the sidewalk a few feet away, the crumbs trailing toward the gutter. She realized, with a start, that she hadn’t seen a pigeon since before the car accident. “Are they killing the pigeons?” she asked.
“They’ve been killing them since June.” Julian ground out his cigarette beneath his shoe and got up to toss it in the trash can nearby.
When he returned, Reese said, “I don’t know who Amber is.” She took all the hurt that was gnawing at her and fisted it into a hard, angry shield. “Who is she? Why would she lie about—about everything?”
“I don’t know,” Julian said, shaking his head. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. But she didn’t want to lean against him. If she gave in, she would turn into a wreck. She couldn’t give in. She had to wall everything up and shut herself off. Otherwise she’d never have the nerve to keep searching for the answers to all these questions.
She bent over to put out the cigarette on the sidewalk, leaving a smudge of black ash behind. “I have to find out,” she said, taking a shaking breath. “I have to.”