Aaron Elkins: Fellowship Of Fear

"Yes. Number two: the lateral ends of his eyebrows were raised, as you’d expect, but the medial corners weren’t."

"I don’t follow. Demonstrate, please, Professor," Janet said.

"I can’t. Most people can’t voluntarily raise the medial corners of their eyebrows. That’s my point."

"Dammit, Doc," John said excitedly, his hands chopping away at the air. That’s the second time you’ve said that. What’s your point?"

"Will someone kindly control this person?" Gideon said.

"Goddammit, Doc-"

Gideon laughed and patted John’s arm. "My point is that Dr. Rufus’s surprise was fabricated. He was faking it." He sipped his cooling coffe. "He knew those men were going to come after me, and he knew about the book. Ergo, he was the spy."

John shook his head doubtfully. "I don’t know…"

"What’s point three?" asked Janet.

"That his facial expressions were asymmetrical; much more pronounced on the left side."

"I see," Janet. "So you assumed that the neurological pathways were subcortical in origin. Very clever, if I do say so myself. How-"

"Argh," Marti said. "I’m going bonkers. Will somebody let us poor mortals in on this?"

Gideon laughed. "There are two separate paths from the brain to the facial muscles, one for deliberate expressions and the other for involuntary ones. And they result in different faces. Involuntary expressions are usually very symmetrical. Deliberate ones are almost always more pronounced on the left side."

"Doc," John said, "no disrespect intended, but is this a little theory of your own, or is there any scientific basis for it?"

"That’s an excellent question… finally. There’s plenty of evidence. Duchenne did some preliminary work on the facial muscles in the 1860s, and Izard was analyzing facial expressions in the 1920s in the U.S. But the main work’s being done by Ekman at UC-the University of California- and by Friesen. Ekman’s even talked to the CIA-"

"All right, all right, you win." John was quiet a few moments. Then he said, "Okay, I admit it. I’m impressed."

Gideon stood up and stretched. "And now that one and all have been astounded by feats of scientific legerdemain, why don’t we hit the road and get home?"

In the dark car, John turned on the ignition, then shut it off and turned to Gideon, his arm on the back of his seat.

"Here comes the rebuttal," Gideon said to no one. "I thought it was too easy."

"No rebuttal, Doc. I’m just not clear about everything yet. It doesn’t make sense that the Russians were trying to kill you. They were getting their information through you, right? So why would they want you dead, huh?"

"Yeah, huh?" said Marti.

Gideon smiled, although he knew no one could see it. "The need-to-know principle," he said softly. "The great standard of the espionage world. It just turns out that the Russians are as dumb as we are."

When he was silent for a few moments, Janet said, "If that was an explanation, I’m afraid I missed something."

"You know how NSD got mixed up?" Gideon said. "How Intelligence was protecting me because I was working for them, but Bureau Four was after me because they thought I was a spy?"

There were murmurs of assent.

"Well, the same thing-the exact same goddamn thing- happened to the Russians. Their espionage people knew I was their source, but espionage and counterespionage don’t talk to each other-just like us-and as far as counterespionage was concerned, I was a danger, an NSD operative."

"Which you were," John said.

"Which I was." He sighed. "Which I sure was. I was hunting like mad for the KGB source…and it was me. And I was searching everywhere for the dead drop…and I had it. ‘One for the books,’ Delvaux said."

"Huh," John said.

"Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat," said Marti.

Immersed in the International Herald Tribune the next morning, Gideon started when a pair of hands were laid gently on his shoulders. "Janet!" he said. "Hi, sit down. You look great in yellow."

She took his empty cup to the coffeepot at the back of the faculty lounge and filled it, along with one for herself. She didn’t often wear summery frocks, but it was unseasonably warm. Her bare arms were brown and firm and very smooth.

He smiled at her when she returned and sat down.

"That’s not a smile; that’s a leer," she said. "I know leers, and that’s one."

"Hey, lady, can I lick your arm? Did anyone ever tell you you have extremely sexy arms?"

"I can’t handle any more compliments," she said. "I still haven’t gotten used to the one about the subtrochanteric what-ever-it-was."

"Trochanteric subcutaneous adipose tissue deposit. Mmm, that’s nice, too."

"What’s with you? You didn’t seem very interested last night. You were asleep before the lights were out."

"I was tired. I’m wide awake now." He reached out and stroked her arm.

She covered his hand with her own and squeezed it. With a quick glance around to make sure they were alone, she leaned forward and kissed him gently.

When they pulled back, a lump rose suddenly to his throat. "Ah, Janet, I’m afraid you’ve gotten to me, and I didn’t want to be gotten to. It’s going to be a long four days in Izmir without you."

Her eyes shining, she smiled at him. "Listen, I need to tell you about the staff meeting."

"It was a short one, wasn’t it? You were only in there half an hour."

"Yes, but big things happened. In the first place, Eric Bozzini is going to be acting chancellor until they get a replacement."

"Eric?" You’re kidding! That’s ridiculous."

"He’ll do fine," Janet said. "There’s more. First, I’m going to be acting logistics director. Acting acting director, I guess it is."

She seemed so pleased with the appointment that he congratulated her. "Is it a good position for you?"

She laughed with a tinkling, pealing laugh he had not heard before. He hoped he would hear it many times again. "Who cares about the position?" she said. "The point is, with the Russian thing off and the alert over, we go back to our normal schedule. Isn’t that great?"

"I guess so," he said, "but am I missing something?"

"You bet you are. It means that the logistics director has to get out of her office and start making field visits. And guess which base hasn’t been visited in two years?"

He sipped his coffee, giving himself time to determine whether he was feeling happy or anxious. He decided easily on happy. "It wouldn’t be Izmir?" he said.

"It sure would," she said, and then looked at him for a long time. "Is that all right?"

Her hands were clenched on the table. He covered them with his own, and she turned her palms up to clasp his fingers.

"Yes, that’s all right," he said, with a fine, painful tightness in his throat. "I guess I’m getting kind of used to you." He paused. "Did I ever tell you what beautiful orbicularis oculi you have?"