CASSIOPEIA WAS THE LAST TO CLIMB FROM THE TAWNY POOL, BACK into the first chamber.
“Lyndsey said the bacteria in the green pool could be swallowed,” Ely said. “They’re harmless to us, but destroy HIV.”
“We don’t know if any of that is true,” Stephanie said.
Ely seemed convinced. “It is. That man’s ass was on the line. He was using what he had to save his skin.”
“We have the disk,” Thorvaldsen said. “I can have the best scientists in the world get us an answer immediately.”
Ely shook his head. “Alexander the Great had no scientists. He trusted his world.”
Cassiopeia admired his courage. She’d been infected for over a decade, always wondering when the disease would finally manifest itself. To have a time bomb ticking away inside, waiting for the day when your immune system finally failed, that changed your life. She knew Ely suffered from the same anxiety, clutched at every hope. And they were the lucky ones. They could afford the drugs that kept the virus at bay. Millions of others could not.
She stared into the tawny pool, at the Greek letter Z that lay at its bottom. She recalled what she’d read in one of the manuscripts.
Life.
What a lovely promise.
Ely grasped her hand. “Ready?”
She nodded.
They dropped to their knees and drank.
NINETY-FIVE
COPENHAGEN
SATURDAY, JUNE 6
7:45 P.M.
MALONE SAT ON THE SECOND FLOOR OF THE CAFE NORDEN AND enjoyed more of the tomato bisque soup. Still the best he’d ever eaten. Thorvaldsen sat across from him. The second-floor windows were flung open, allowing a lovely late-spring evening to wash over them. Copenhagen’s weather this time of year was nearly perfect, another one of the many reasons why he so enjoyed living here.
“I heard from Ely today,” Thorvaldsen said.
He’d wondered what was happening in central Asia. They’d returned home six weeks ago and he’d been busy selling books. That was the thing about being a field agent. You did your job, then moved on. No postanalysis or follow-up. That task was always left to others.
“He’s excavating Alexander’s tomb. The new Federation government is cooperating with the Greeks.”
He knew that Ely had taken a position in Athens with the Museum of Antiquities, thanks to Thorvaldsen’s intervention. Of course, knowing the location of Alexander the Great’s grave certainly fueled the museum’s enthusiasm.
Zovastina had been succeeded by a moderate deputy minister who, according to the Federation constitution, temporarily assumed power until elections could be held. Washington had quietly ensured that all of the Federation’s biological stockpiles were destroyed and Samarkand had been given a choice. Cooperate or the Federation’s neighbors would learn what Zovastina and her generals had planned, and then nature could take its course. Luckily, moderation prevailed and the United States sent a team to oversee the viral extermination. Of course, with the West holding the antiagent, there’d been no choice. The Federation could start killing, but they could not stop it. The uneasy alliance between Zovastina and Vincenti had been replaced with one between two distrusting nations.
“Ely has full control of the tomb and is quietly working it,” Thorvaldsen said. “He says a lot of history may have to be rewritten. Lots of inscriptions inside. Artwork. Even a map or two. Incredible stuff.”
“And how are Edwin Davis and Danny Daniels?” he asked. “Satisfied?”
Thorvaldsen smiled. “I spoke with Edwin a couple of days ago. Daniels is grateful for all we did. He especially liked Cassiopeia blowing up that helicopter. Not a lot of sympathy from that man. He’s a tough one.”
“Glad we could help the president out one more time.” He paused. “What about the Venetian League?”
Thorvaldsen shrugged. “Faded into the woodwork. It didn’t do anything that can be proven.”
“Except kill Naomi Johns.”
“Vincenti did that, and I believe he paid.”
That was true. “You know, it’d be nice if Daniels could, for once, just ask for my help.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Like with you?”
His friend nodded. “Like with me.”
He finished his soup and stared down at Hojbro Plads. The square was lively with people enjoying a warm evening, which were few and far between in Copenhagen. His bookshop across the plaza was closed. Business had been great lately and he was planning a buying trip to London the following week, before Gary arrived for his yearly summer visit. He was looking forward to seeing his fifteen-year-old.
But he was also melancholy. He’d been that way every since returning home. He and Thorvaldsen ate dinner together at least once a week, but never had they discussed what was really on his mind. Some places need not be trod.
Unless allowed.
So he asked, “How’s Cassiopeia?”
“I was wondering when you’d inquire.”
“You’re the one who got me into all that.”
“All I did was tell you she needed help.”
“I’d like to think she’d help me, if needed.”
“She would. But, to answer your question, both she and Ely are virus free. Edwin tells me scientists have also verified the bacteria’s effectiveness. Daniels will announce the cure shortly and the United States government will control its distribution. The president has ordered that it be available to all at minimal cost.”
“A lot of people will be affected by that.”
“Thanks to you. You solved the riddle and found the grave.”
He didn’t want to hear that. “We all did our job. And, by the way, I heard you’re a gun-toting fool. Stephanie said you were hell in that house.”
“I’m not helpless.”
Thorvaldsen had told him about Stephanie and the shooting. He’d spoken to her about it before they left Asia and had called her again last week.
“Stephanie’s realizing it’s tough out in the field,” he said.
“I spoke to her myself a few days ago.”
“You two becoming buddies?”
His friend smiled. “We’re a lot alike, though neither one of us would admit that to the other.”
“Killing is never easy. No matter what the reason.”
“I killed three men myself in that house. You’re right. It’s never easy.”
He still had not received an answer to his initial question, and Thorvaldsen seemed to sense what he truly wanted to know.
“I haven’t spoke with Cassiopeia much since we left the Federation. She went home to France. I don’t know about she and Ely-the two of them. She offers little.” Thorvaldsen shook his head. “You’ll have to ask her.”
He decided to take a walk. He liked roaming the Stroget. He asked Thorvaldsen if he wanted to join him but his
