Nano Day 13 - Working Title: Cantata

[joegoda]

"Pizza here is nothing like it is at home," she said. "I will admit that I like ours better. Yours has no heart." Laura placed the uneaten crust back in the box. She got up, wrapped the sheet around her and crossed to the third floor window. She looked out at the 2am city. The lights shone back at her in oranges and yellow, with an occasional red or green from a traffic light. Traffic was light and the night sounds came back to her, muffled.

"Your world is so strange, Richard. I've been away so long I'd forgotten what it was like." She turned from the window, the sheet forming around her curves. "Rome never completely sleeps, like this place, but even there, one can find grace and dignity. This city grumbles and growls, sniffing from dark place to dark place like an angry dog with an upset stomach."

Wells lay on the bed, his arms crossed above his head, supported by the pillow. "I'm usually asleep by nine-thirty, dearest, so I don't get to see this time of night. It's only the rare and special occasion that keeps me up." He patted the side of the bed next to him. "Come back to bed, rare and occasional," he said.

Laura sat next to him, and rubbed his stomach. "For luck," she smiled. The smile faded quickly and she said, "Kaylee was understanding enough, but she did remind me that I have duties to attend to tomorrow. I can't stay another day, Richard." She turned her brown eyes to his and asked, "Or would you prefer Herbert?"

"From your lips," he answered, "Richard sounds so much better. So call me Richard." He sat up and placed a hand on her back, not supporting her, but just for the contact. "I really didn't expect you to stay this night, Laura." He kissed her shoulder. "I'm glad you did, though."

"I am too," she said, smiling briefly at him. "I hate to break up the romance, but I really am worried." Her smile melted and the corner of her mouth turned down in painful consideration. "What do you think she is doing?" she asked. "Is she with the Underground? Is she wrapped up in exposing the Slave trade? Either option may get her arrested or worse." She shook her head sadly.

"What if you confronted her?" Wells asked. "What would be her possible reaction?"

"Oh," Laura mused, "she'd probably go into a yelling fit, asking me what sort of mother I was that was spying on her. She'd want to know how I found out, if she even admitted to still being with them." She sighed. "It would not be pretty, I'm afraid. You know the sort of tempers we Italian women have." This last was said with a sad smile.

"All right," Wells said. "But can you go back and act like nothing at all happened?"

"Oh, surely. That I can do, but watchful as well." She nodded. "I'll be keeping a closer watch on her friend, Bleri, too. I thought Bleri's boldness was just the liveliness of youth. It might still be, but I want to know." She lay back on the pillow. "I just don't know Richard." She turned toward him, lying on her side. He ran a hand from her hips to her chest; she reached for it and pulled it to her lips. "I love you, Richard, but I don't want to be distracted right now. And you are a distraction, and something I needed for a very, very long time. But not right now, All right?"

He nodded and smiled. "Raincheck, then. Because we're far from done, milady." He snuggled down on his side of the bed, facing her. "Listen, I'm going to run a check on this Bleri Carnesi and see what Sarah can come up with." Seeing Laura's eyes tighten just a bit, he explained, "Sarah has access to every database in the world that it's possible to access freely, and quite a few that require... um... special access to. Sarah contains the capacity for fuzzy thinking, something relatively new in computers. It's only been around a few years, and most of what is out there is pure theory. The math that went into building the program Sarah runs is incredible."

Laura said nothing. "Really," Wells went on. "Sarah is just a computer."

"Just a computer?" Laura asked. "You speak of it with such pride, Richard. I suspect it's more than just a computer." She thought a bit and then asked, "Can you access it from outside your firewall?"

Wells thought and then replied, "You know... I don't know. I've never tried. I shouldn't be able to. Sarah is supposed to be completely hacker proof. Every single transmission that reaches her is screened at least five times before it reaches her. No virus, not even spam can get through the wall to her, in theory. And if it did, if it wasn't keyed to something she was running background process..." he faded.

"What?" Laura asked, rising up on her elbow. "What did you think of?"

Richard went over to the tiny desk in the suite. He powered up the computer sitting there and waited. "Hmmm," he said, "I wonder." He turned to Laura and explained. "There is one background process I have her working on. Its password protected. I'm wondering if I can compose a bit of email that looks purely harmless, at least enough to get through the filters, but contains the password and the subject of the process she's working on. It might just wake her up so that we can access her here.

Once the computer on the desk had powered up, he turned to Laura and asked her for her email address. "I'm going to compose an email to you from Hannay. It'll contain the password, but it will also contain and encrypted algorithm that will give her instructions to search for references for this Bleri Carnesi. Do me a favor, love?" He turned back to the keyboard and started typing. "This won't take long, but still... could you get me some coffee?" He started typing the email using Richard Hannay's email account.

"I'll never understand how you can drink coffee at all hours of the night." Laura said. "Especially at your age. Doesn't it keep you awake?"

"Actually," he said, "I've had so much, I think I'm immune to it." Fingers flying, he typed a long string of numbers and letters. "First I want to see if Sarah will accept this at all. That will be the waiting part. Then I want to set up a different protocol for when I'm not there." He turned to Laura, "Honey, you're a genius. I wonder why I've never thought of this before."

"Because," Laura said, dialing the phone for room service, "you need the push of a good woman to set your mind on fire." She ordered coffee for him, decaffeinated tea for her, hot not iced, and a couple of light pastries. "To keep our strength up," she explained to the sleepy voice on the other end. She hung up, chuckling. "That will keep them guessing."

She came over to where Wells sat, watching him with her hands on his shoulders. "You know I love you, Richard." She kissed the top of his head, watching him type. When he sent the reply, he turned around and sat her on his lap. "I just wonder where we will go from here," She finished.

"I suspect I have a very short career ahead of me," he said. "I don't know if this will have me fired, or what will happen." He shrugged. "But I do know that I can't just let this go. You and Kaylee have got to be safe."

Laura pushed away from him so she could look him in the eyes. "By fired, you mean..." she let it trail off.

Wells nodded. "You know nobody really retires from the company, Laura. Retired. Fired. It all means the same thing."

"Oh, Richard," she said, alarm growing in her voice as she stood up and away from him. "You will not get yourself killed over this, do you understand me?" She stood with hands on hips, just as a knock came to the door. It was room service, and before she opened the door, she looked directly at him and said, "I'm not kidding."

Her hand touched the knob to open the door, but Wells cleared his throat in a warning noise, which caused her to pause. She raised an eyebrow in question. He called out, "Just a minute!". Then he turned the flatscreen away from the view of the door, stood up and joined her.

"Let me, dearest," he said. He waved her over near the bed, and opened the door, just a crack. "Could you place the coffee and danish on the floor, please?" he said through the opening. "You see, we're not exactly decent."

A thick accented voice replied, "Not a problem, Mister. We'll just sit it here." With a crash, the door flew out of Wells' hand, snapped the security chain and slammed against its stop. Two men entered, waving guns.

"It was bad enough that you two followed me to the grocery store," Wells said, "but now you have to interrupt me on a date?"

"Shut up, Mister," Said the one on the left. The speaker was tall and thin, with thick black hair, a mustache that made him look like a skinny walrus and a small scar under his left eye. The second man was thin as well, but not as tall. His hair was white blonde and blue eyes shone menacingly from pockmarked face. Both were dressed in black t-shirts, jeans and boots.

The dark haired one waved his gun to indicate that Wells should stand next to Laura.

"You know these men?" she asked.

"Laura, these are the Goins brothers," Wells introduced them. "Sylvester and Tweety. They've been a curiosity for a few days now. I put one of them to sleep in a restroom stall. I'd guess that Walrus there is Sylvester."

"I said, shut up." Sylvester took a step toward them.

"I'm not sure, but I think," Wells said, "that would make the other one Tweety."

"That makes sense," Laura said, agreeable.

Wells spread his hands, completely unselfconscious about his nudity. "Look, fellows. I'm sorry about the knock out gas and all. It's just how I am. You understand, big city and all..."

Tweety spoke up and said, "You ruined our tires, man. Do you know how much those things cost?" His voice was high and breaking, like a teenage boy. Like his brother, he also had a thick accent.

"Is that what this is about?" Wells asked. "The tires?" He took a step back, glanced at Laura and smiled, his eyes darting toward something. "I'll gladly pay you for them, really."

"This is not about the tires. This is a warning. Stop looking for what will get you killed."

"A warning?" Wells took another step back, until his thighs touched the bed. "From who?"

"From whom, dearest," Laura corrected. She had also moved back until she was next to the small dresser.

"Ok, from whom is this warning?" Wells asked.

Tweety piped up and said, "From someone very, very powerful. You do not want to cross him."

"You and your lady friend will both be healthier if you stop searching for... What you are searching for," Sylvester said.

"Didn't Hamilton tell you what I was searching for?" Wells asked.

"Hamilton?" Sylvester asked, confused. He looked at Tweety, who shrugged.

"Come on, boys. Hamilton? Gregory Hamilton? The guy that bailed you out of jail?"

A light dawned in Tweety's eyes. "Uncle Greg?" he said, before Sylvester punched him and warned, "Shut up, idiot."

'So,' Wells thought to himself, 'Hamilton didn't have anything to do with this. Then, who did?'

At this moment, four things happened simultaneously. The real room service showed up, and loudly asked what the hell was going on. A chime from the computer announced a response to Wells' email. Wells grabbed a pillow and slammed it full force with his body behind it against Sylvester, who bounced against the ruined doorframe. Laura picked up the decorative vase from the dresser and threw it with deadly accuracy, bouncing it off of Tweety's skull.

Both men dropped to the floor. Wells kicked Sylvester in the head, to make sure he was unconscious. Laura's target left no doubt of his state as he had already started to drool.

"They are not very bright, are they?" Laura asked.

"No hon, they aren't," Wells agreed as he crossed to the computer to retrieve his reply. He moved the desk chair rather than reorient the flatscreen, as he wanted to make sure any thing he read or wrote was fully out of view of the rest of the room.

The man who was room service was loudly protesting what he had witnessed. Laura suggested that the manager of the hotel be brought up to explain how two men, bearing guns, were able to come up three flights and harass guests of the hotel. She took the tray containing the coffee, tea and pastry and placed it on the desk near Wells.

"Shoo!" she said to the stuttering man. "Please bring the manager up, so he can explain how all this happened." She took one of the danish and took a large bite from it while she poured hot water from a carafe into a cup.

"And you thought it was boring here," Wells said.

"I never said that," Laura defended between bites. "I said it was growling, like my tummy now, thank you very much." She leaned over his shoulder. "What does it say?"

"It says..." Wells began, and then re-read it. With a curious tone in his voice he said, "It's from Sarah, directly. She says to tell you hello, and that we're to go to the airport as quickly as possible."

Laura smirked and exclaimed, "Richard! You called it a she!"

Wells looked at her and his look removed her smirk. "Sarah's been behaving very odd lately. She says we're to go to the airport immediately, and she'll get in touch with us there."

"The airport? I rescheduled for noon, Richard," Laura said.

"No, Laura. Sarah rescheduled US." Wells said somberly. "We're going to Italy."