Blue Gold (NUMA Files 2)

y, but there was nothing sexual in their leers. This was not the ignorant savagery she was used to with the Chulo. This was pure animal lust, hunger for blood and bone. She glanced around the strange circular white room with the plain walls and uncomfortably cool temperature. At its center was a computer console. She was thinking how absurdly big the furniture was and wondered whether the outsized chairs, like the low temperature, were a psychological ploy to make people brought there feel small and inadequate. She could be anywhere in the world.

Francesca had no idea how she had come to this sterile chamber. She was vaguely aware of being moved from one place to the other. At one point she thought she heard jet engines, but she was injected with drugs again and slipped off into black unconsciousness. She had seen no sign of Gamay, and that worried her, too. She had felt a pinprick in her arm and awakened quickly as if she had been injected with a stimulant. As her eyes fluttered open she saw the twins. No one had spoken for several minutes. She was grateful when the door hissed open and the woman entered and waved the grotesque twins away.

Francesca wondered if she had blundered into a freak show or the set of a Fellini movie. She knew the reason for the outsized furniture. The woman dressed in the dark green uniform was a giantess. Settling into a big sofa, she smiled pleasantly but without warmth. “Are you well, Dr. Cabral?”

“What did you do with Gamay?”

“Your NUMA friend? She is comfortably quartered in her room.”

“I want to see her.”

The woman lazily reached over and tapped her computer screen, and Gamay appeared on the monitor, lying on her side on a cot. Francesca held her breath. Then Gamay stirred, tried to rise, only to fall back onto the cot.

“She has not been given the drug antidote as you were. She will sleep it off and awaken in a few hours.”

“I want to see her in person to make sure she is all right.”

“Later perhaps.” The answer was uncompromising. The woman touched the screen, and it went dark.

Francesca looked around. “Where exactly is this place?”

“That’s not important.”

“Why have you brought us here?”

The woman ignored her question. “Did Melo and Radko frighten you?”

“Do you mean the human mushrooms who just left?”

She smiled at the comparison. “A clever metaphor, but you would do better to compare them to poisonous toadstools. Despite your bravado, I can see the fear in your eyes. Good. They should frighten you. During the ethnic cleansing campaign in Bosnia the Kradzik brothers personally killed hundreds of people and planned the deaths of thousands. They destroyed entire villages and engineered numerous massacres. If not for me they would be sitting in the prisoners’ dock at the World Court in The Hague, charged with crimes against humanity. There is no war crime they did not commit. They have absolutely no conscience, no morals, no sense of remorse for anything they do. Maiming and killing are second nature to them.” She paused to let her words sink in. “Am I making my point?”

“Yes. That you have no scruples yourself about hiring murderers.”

“Exactly. Their murderous character is precisely why I hired them. It is no different from a carpenter buying a hammer to drive nails into a board. The Kradzik twins are my hammer.”

“People aren’t nails.”

“Some are. Some aren’t, Dr. Cabral.”

Francesca wanted to change the subject. “How do you know my name?”

“I have known and admired your work for years, Dr. Cabral. In my opinion, your fame as one of the world’s leading hydro-engineers easily eclipses your more recent notoriety as a white goddess.”

“You know who I am, but who are you?”

“My name is Brynhild Sigurd. Although your name is better known than mine, we are both accomplished in our chosen field, the movement of the earth’s most precious substance, its water.”

“You’re a hydro-engineer?”

“I studied at the finest technological institutions in Europe. After I finished my studies I moved to California, where I started my consulting company, now one of the biggest in the world.”

Francesca shook her head. She thought she knew everyone in the water engineering fraternity. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“I prefer it that way. I’ve always operated behind the scenes. I’m nearly seven feet tall. My stature makes me a freak, subject to derision from those very much inferior to me.”

Despite her predicament, Francesca felt a slight pang of empathy. “I had my share of harassment from idiots who don’t like the idea of a woman excelling in their field. I never let it bother me.”

“Perhaps you should have. In the long run my resentment at having to hide from the public has been an asset. I directed my anger, retooling it into an unstoppable ambition. I acquired other companies, all with an eye toward the future. There was only one fly in the ointment.” The cold smile again. “You, Dr. Cabral.”