“You think I don’t want to?” Varya hadseethed. “You think I don’t want the world to know that it’s mewho’s behind all this, who has made it happen? Funded and drivenresearch to find cures for six diseases, saving the lives ofchildren.” She swallowed, her eyes burning. “How many families havewe helped to avoid the sort of grief you and I have bothsuffered?”
“Dozens,” Langford agreed. “But Varya, it’sbeen nearly ten years since your unit was disbanded. People havemoved on. The world has moved on.”
Her eyes flashed. “They may have moved on,but they haven’t forgotten.”
“No. I hope we’ll never forget something asheinous as the time thieves, lest history repeat itself.” Langfordreached out and placed her hand gently on Varya’s arm. Varyatensed, her flight instinct kicking in. “But I think your trackrecord here will speak for itself. I think it’s time to come out ofhiding and reveal yourself. Kir has been gone for five years now,Varya. When are you going to stop hiding and start living?”
Standing in Langford’s dark, silent officenow, Varya wiped at her eyes, which had started to fill at thesensation that, without Langford, she was truly alone again. Therewas nobody left who knew all the pieces, who could fit themtogether to see the whole that was Varya.
“Pull yourself together, woman,” she hissedat herself, and moved forward to retrieve the files she’d comefor.
A click and whoosh of new air and light madeher cry out. She turned around and blinked, trying to adjust hereyes to focus on the figure in the office doorway with the brightlight at his back.
“Thought it might be you,” said Connor. Nowthat Varya was studying him properly, she realised she didn’t evenremember hiring him. Was he in the list Langford had sent her forfinal vetting?
“What are you doing in here?” he asked—alittle too casually, Varya thought. But of course, she remindedherself, he saw her as just another one of the lab staff.
“Clearing out the professor’s things.” Shedecided to continue with her self-appointed task despite hisintrusion. Sometimes the best way to disguise illicit actions wasby putting them on open display. Marisa had taught her that.
“In the dark?” Connor flicked on the light.Varya blinked rapidly, frowned, and ground her teeth. She glared athim momentarily. He raised his eyebrows.
Varya slipped her hand into her pocket andpulled out a small, brass key. Deceptively simple, it looked likeit might open an old roll-top desk. A perfect circle at one end, ahollow tip and jagged square at the other. Hidden from the sight ofthe human eye were tiny indentations scratched into thecircumference of the barrelled end. She inserted the key into theprofessor’s cabinet and turned it. The top drawer slid open. Varyareached behind the cabinet and pulled out a flat packed box. Sheheld out the cardboard to Connor.
“Here. Make yourself useful.”
While Connor constructed the box, Varya usedthe time to start pulling out files. She piled a handful on thedesk and flicked through a few more. These were confidentialresearch files, containing results from experiments that were toosensitive or too uncertain to place on the digital network yet.Secure as it was, any network was vulnerable to cyberattack. Orsurveillance. Varya was keen to ensure they were all safely lockedaway. But today, she was searching for one in particular.
“Kir,” it was labelled. She found ittucked away in the bottom drawer, right at the back. Threebuff-coloured manila folders bound together by two large elasticbands which had worn away the top lips of the cardboard. Varya ranher fingers over the soft edges before she slipped them into themiddle of the growing pile on the desk.
“There’s more boxes over there, in thecorner,” she told Connor.
He followed the trajectory of her finger andnodded. Varya ripped out a length of tape from a roll she’d broughtwith her and lashed it to the top of the box to secure it.
“So, how long have you worked here for?”Connor asked, his voice bright with energy.
Varya eyed him suspiciously. “Since theinstitute opened.”
“You like it?” He watched her, waiting foran answer. Varya stared at him for just a moment too long, until helooked suitably alarmed. Then she nodded.
He got the message and continued to work,silently.
Varya sighed. Maybe the task at hand wasmaking her paranoid. Maybe he really was just trying to get to knowher. But why?
“What made you decide to come and workhere?” Varya threw him a conversational olive branch.
“I wanted to be a hero, save a kid or two,”he grinned.
“Why save a couple of kids with rarediseases here when you could work to save thousands of childrenfrom more common ones at the government labs?” she asked, genuinelycurious now.
He shrugged and patted the sides of a newlyconstructed box, checking its integrity before placing more filesin. Varya tensed as she watched him pick up the pile with Kir’sfile in and place it carefully in the box.
“I liked the idea of knowing who I wassaving. It’s a self-indulgent thing. I’m not motivated by reducingdisease numbers. I’m motivated by helping sick people.”
“You won’t meet many sick people here in thelabs. Maybe you should have been a doctor,” she retorted.
“I was,” he said quietly.
She studied his face. Maybe she’d pegged hisage wrong, he must have been older if he’d had the time to have amedical career before switching to a research career.
“I got sick of telling parents their kidswere going to die because we couldn’t be bothered to spend theresources on finding a way to save them.”
That, she understood.
“So, you need some help getting thesesomewhere?” Connor unfolded himself and stretched to his fullheight. His back cracked loudly. He grinned; Varya winced.“Sorry.”
“They can stay here for now.” As much as shewould have loved a hand to get the boxes into her car, she couldn’tthink of a story quickly enough to explain why she might be takingFoundation files home.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
They both stood, looking
