Cantata - finishing the story

[joegoda]

An hour passed. Wells did nothing but sip his water, sit and listen to a number of classical pieces come through the speaker of the laptop. He relished the Gelato, and when it was gone, he licked the bowl clean. He sat the creamy blue colored bowl on the table, and when the waitress came to clean it, he thanked her and gave her a five Euro tip.

She looked at him with an 'Are you sure this is correct?' quizzical face. Wells smiled and nodded. "You brought me joy in the form of Gelato, so I share my joy in repayment," he said to her. Thanking him profusely, she asked if he would like another Gelato. He shook his head, and asked for a black coffee instead. His service was swift and he was presented with a rich aromatic cup of a strong blend.

Another hour passed while Wells watched a family play nearby. The boy must have been three or four and the father was flying him all over the small park, carrying the small tot in his strong arms and whizzing the boy around and around, making sounds like an airplane. The mother laughed and the daughter, probably around eight or nine, sat and occasionally looked up from the book she was reading.

A small beep erupted from the earbud, followed by an electronic female voice. "Battery low," it said. It wasn't Sarah's voice, and that disturbed Wells just a bit.

"Sarah?" Wells asked.

"Yes, Herbert?" Sarah's voice was clear and much more human sounding than the computer's. "What can I do for you?"

"I think I'm ready," Well said after a moment. "How much time do we have until the concert?"

"We have nine hours and eleven minutes, Herbert." Sarah made the throat clearing sound. "Have you come to a reconciliation about...?"

Wells interrupted her with a single word. "Sarah." He took a breath, let it out and continued. "As far as the world is concerned, it doesn't matter if you are a person or a program. As far as I'm concerned, you're a person, in all senses of the word. It also doesn't matter to me, in a very real sense, because, I suppose, I have always considered you to be my partner." He paused again, a pause long enough to cause two miles to click through the odometer.

"Do me a favor, though?" He asked.

"What would that favor be, Herbert?"

"Don't bring this subject up again," he said. "Just assume that I recognize you for who you are, and realize that the rest of the world would destroy you for what you are. I am still the boss, and you are still my loyal computer."

"Very good, Herbert. You are the boss, and I am just a computer," she said.

"You are more than 'just' a computer, Sarah," Wells said. "You're my partner."

"Thank you, Herbert." Sarah's voice was small and quiet. "I appreciate that."

"Good," Wells said. "Now, let's get to business." He focused on the road. "We have nine hours, and before this is done, I want to know who Mister X is. That's your job, Sarah. I want you to crosscheck all the data you have accumulated about Hamilton and the slavers and figure out who this person is. It shouldn't be too hard for you." He gave a quick snort. "Three hundred million computers."

"Very good, Herbert," Sarah said. "When do you wish this information?"

Wells snorted again, but in surprise. "You already know?"

"Three hundred million computers, Herbert."

"Huh." Wells thought about it. "Not yet. Don't tell me yet. I want to deal with one issue at a time." He gave it another thought. "Except this, is the person alive?"

"Oh yes," Sarah said. "He is alive. He is currently the CEO of..."

"Not yet, Sarah." Wells stopped her. "What I want now is a listing of the agents that Hamilton has on this Ops training mission in Catanzaro."

Sarah listed the agents in alphabetical order. Alvero, Graham, Fellings, Oldacre, and Phillips. Five of them. Wells listened intently, and had her repeat the list one more time.

"Is there anything odd about that group?" he asked. "Anyone with a suspicious past, particularly a connection to Grobchik or Mister X?"

"No Herbert," Sarah said. "Each one checks out clean. There is nothing suspicious about any of them."

"Good," Wells said, nodding. "That's what I expected. Hamilton is very good at his job." He scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I have to wonder, though... why did he pick now to do a training op? Why here?"

"According to a couple of references he made in some unauthorized emails he sent," Sarah said, "he believes there may be another attempt on the Pope, and he is wanting to establish a clandestine post in Rome of agents he says he can trust." Sarah paused. "Hamilton is a very devout Catholic, Herbert. The Pope will be at the performance."

"Ah!" Wells slapped his forehead. "It all makes sense. Then Hamilton's operation really was just a coincidence. So he didn't know that Kaylee was my daughter!"

"So it would seem, Herbert."

"All right," Wells said, nodding again. "That removes some of the muddle from this mess. I may have come here for the wrong motive, but for the right reason. Yes, yes," he said, more to himself than to Sarah, "of course I wanted to meet my daughter. And yes, I was deluding myself with a smokescreen reason." He shook his head, negatively. "I was an idiot, Sarah."

He drew a breath. "Sarah, Besi is going to try to kill Kaylee. It was he that put the wolfsbane or whatever it was in my coffee in Sistiana."

"Why would he kill Kaylee, Herbert?"

"Because his sister is a lesbian, Sarah," Well said. "And he blames Kaylee for making her one."

"Recent science has determined that homosexuality is primarily a gene determined trait, Herbert," Sarah said, "if you discount the emotional life changes brought about by sexual abuse."

"It really doesn't matter, Sarah." Wells said.

Traffic had picked up. There was an interchange up ahead, where A1 split off. On leg, the one to the left joined A35 to Rome. He stayed to the right. Rome could wait. He glanced at a road sign that read, "Guidonia Montecelio - 5 km".

"How much further, Sarah?"

"A little over 7 hours, Herbert."

"And the concert is in, what? Nine hours?"

"Eight hours and forty-five minutes, Herbert."

"Then I guess we ought to hurry, just a bit." He pressed a bit harder on the accelerator and the speedometer climbed slightly. Not enough to attract attention. He was still being passed frequently.

"It doesn't matter what causes people to turn gay, Sarah," Wells continued. "Besi and Bleri come from a country that is dirt poor. It's also a country where women who are lesbians are often killed, stoned to death or something similar, because they do not bear children."

He passed a red Paseo, over-filled with young men, laughing. He waved as he passed and the men waved back, smiling and giving him the thumbs-up sign.

"Besi, remember, was one of the people that Kaylee helped to rescue." Wells was quiet for a moment. "I wonder, though, if he was truly rescued, or if he..."

"Herbert," Sarah asked, "are you considering the possibility that Besi Carnesis might have been one of the white slavers, rather than a slave?"

"I'm just wondering, Sarah." Herbert saw that he was speeding just a bit more than he wanted. He eased a bit up on the accelerator. "Regardless, I'm working with the theory that he feels that Kaylee is responsible for his sister's... choice of lifestyle. I believe that he felt I was getting too close to the truth, that he was going to kill Kaylee, and he decided to poison my coffee. Good thing, too."

"It was a good thing, Herbert?"

"Yes, Sarah, it was," Wells said. "Before he had done that, I would have continued to doubt myself. Even after the death of Grobchik, I almost felt I was done. I would have gone looking for Mister X, thinking it was he that had called out the hit on Kaylee." He sighed. "I had already started to suspect that Hamilton's operation had nothing to do with this, except by coincidence. I was even starting to think that this assassination attempt on Kaylee was just my imagination."

"And now?" Sarah asked.

"Now, I know that Kaylee's life is in danger." Wells shook his head. "Not from Mister X. He doesn't care about her. Kaylee is small potatoes to him. His operation will continue regardless of what she does, as long as he remains anonymous."

"Oh, he might be interested in Besi," Wells said. "Besi, regardless of being a slave or a slaver, knows who Mister X is, I think." He was silent for a moment. "I suspect that if we were to go to Sistiana right now, we might find the Carnesis have disappeared. Those two goons that followed me from Zadar were looking for them, and they came from Mister X."

"Right now, I suspect that Besi, and possibly Bleri, are in Catanzaro. Besi will probably find some opportunity to hide in the Soverato hotel, waiting for his opportunity to shoot and kill Kaylee. I believe that he will do that for two reasons. One, he wants to gain back some sort of honor for his sister."

"Honor?" Sarah asked. "What honor can there be in killing another person?"

"Human beings are motivated by strange things, Sarah," Wells explained. "Honor is a very fluid concept, and changes from society to society. It may be in Besi's mind that if he kills Kaylee, then Bleri won't be a lesbian anymore."

"That is highly illogical, Herbert."

"Of course it is, Sarah. Human beings are very illogical most of the time. My coming to Italy was not a logical thing to do, considering the motivation."

"You came," Sarah reminded him, "to see your daughter."

"No," Wells countered, "I came because I thought there was going to be an assassination attempt on Kaylee's life. Or so I was telling myself."

"And there is." Sarah said.

Wells sighed. "But not, Sarah, in the manner I thought. I originally thought it was one of Hamilton's trainees that was going to do the takedown. Hell, I thought it was Hamilton himself that had ordered the thing!"

"And that, Herbert, is illogical," Sarah said. "The Director didn't even know you had a daughter."

"That is my point, Sarah," Wells nodded. "People will create their own reasons for the things they do, regardless of the logic of the situation." Traffic had become lighter. There was a sign ahead - "Cassino - 3 KM".

Wells looked at his watch. The time was 10:20. The performance was scheduled right after the dinner hour, at 5:30 pm. A banquet was to precede the performance. After the banquet, the audience would be ushered into the ballroom of the Hotel and a few minutes later, Kaylee would step up to speak. Besi would then kill her, unless Wells could find him and stop him.

"The second reason," Wells continued, "that Besi might be using as an excuse to kill Kaylee is that he wants to get back into the good graces of Mister X. By killing Kaylee, he will prove his allegiance."

"Working under the assumption that he is working for Mister X," Sarah added.

"Yes," Wells agreed. "Working under that assumption." A thought occurred to him. "Sarah, have you searched for any mention of Besi Carnesis' name in any of your databases?"

"No, Herbert," Sarah said. "I was never directed to search for Besi Carnesis."

"Then please do," Wells asked, a bit wryly. "Speaking of assumptions, I've been going on the assumption that Besi will try to shoot Kaylee. Rather narrow minded of me. See if you can find out if he had any other specialties. Like explosives."

"Very good, Herbert." A few seconds later, Sarah reported, "Yes, there is a small mention of a Carnesis in the Romanian Medical field. A Maresh Carnesis, a woman, was a nurse at a regional hospital in Craiova. This is the only possible connection I can find to Besi Carnesis. She was his mother. There is no mention of a Besi Carnesis in any military or news database.

"Damn. He could be using anything." Wells sighed. "Well, where would life be without a challenge?"

"From what I've learned from you, Herbert," Sarah said, "life would be pointless and dull."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for, Sarah." He looked at his watch again. It was 10:35. Time was crawling for Wells. "I would settle for it being just a bit more pointless and dull."

"I believe, Herbert," Sarah said without a trace of sarcasm, "that is how you described your life before this all began."

Wells chuckled, softly. "You just had to rub it in, didn't you?"

Miles passed while Wells pondered. "Sarah, what have you got in the way of building plans for the Soverato hotel?"