Russell Brooks - Pandora's Succession

The double doors opened and both Sora and a young man came in. Perfect timing. The young man carried two plates and Sora had a tray containing two small teapots with hot water, two separate tea balls beside each, and a carafe of cold water.

“Hello, Dr. Parris,” said the young man as he stopped and bowed in front of her. “I’m Yoshirou.”

“Hello.” Parris bowed, not knowing what else to do.

“How about some curried chicken roti?” asked Fox. “That’s still your favorite, isn’t it?

Oh my gosh, he remembered. Parris watched as Yoshirou set the table. “What’s going on here?”

Fox had a half smile and he ended his rendition with a few gentle chords. “Lunch.”

“It seems out of place.”

“I know it seems weird finding West Indian cuisine here, especially at a tea house. But I’m good friends with the owner of this particular franchise and I put in a special request.”

Yoshirou assisted Parris with her chair as she sat down facing the television. He helped Fox to his seat while Sora placed the small tea pots and cups, the Oolong Jasmine tea bulb for Parris, and the Earl Grey Pot de Creme for Fox.

Fox and Parris thanked them both and the two waiters retreated to the door.

Fox looked up at Parris with the fork in his hand. “Bon appetite.”

“Thank you. But I know you didn’t travel all this way to apologize and pamper me with this meal. So, where were we?”

“As I said, I’m following a lead.”

“Really, and abusing The Company’s budget by sending me expensive flowers and reserving this place. Tomas could’ve taken any messages for me. So how did you manage to pull this one off?”

“I’m a member. As I said before I’m good friends with the owner,” said Fox as they both dropped the bulbs in their individual tea pots.

“Bet you are.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice concept they have. They’ve got these home-type establishments here in Tokyo, London, Amsterdam, Cairo, New York, and also Hong-Kong. I’m thinking of opening one in Montreal, my hometown.”

“Oh really?”

“Is that a work-related accident by the way?”

Parris’s hands shot up to her headband. Was the Band-Aid showing? She felt around. No, it wasn’t.

“How did you know that?”

Fox sliced into the roti shell with his knife. “I didn’t. That was, of course, until you reacted the way you did.”

Parris sighed in embarrassment. “Yes, I was attacked at work yesterday morning.”

“Attacked?”

“Yes.”

“By who?”

“One of my subjects. The new mind-control technique Hexagon has developed didn’t go too well.”

“Any idea what went wrong?”

“Not yet, but it appears we’ll stick to the original drug we used before. Ironically, it’s been named Clarity.”

“How does it work?”

“By blocking the RAS’s normal function, along with the amygdala and hypothalamus.”

Fox crossed his legs and held his chin in his palm and tapped his lips with his finger as he chewed. “The RAS?”

“Yes. It’s the Reticular Activation System responsible for screening unnecessary info into the brain.”

There was a moment’s silence and then Fox looked back at Parris as she began to eat. “Right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just that biology isn’t my forte.”

I guess you won’t be impersonating a scientist anytime soon. “Anyway, in order for us to effectively brainwash our subjects, we have to disrupt the reasoning, personality, and drive regions of the brain.”

“Yes, of course, in the hindbrain,” said Fox.

“No,” said Parris. “That would disrupt their sight. Personality’s found in the forebrain and human drives are in the thalamus. With those areas disrupted, the subjects are then more susceptible to suggestion. That’s where our device comes into play.”

“Which device?”

Parris told him about the chair and its function. “Before we developed the latest variation of the drug, patients would have to undergo several sessions with the chair before they were completely brainwashed. We were hoping to reduce that amount with the latest version.”

Parris then cleared her throat. “Now, tell me more about the man you’re tracking.”

Fox poured himself a glass of water and poured a glass for Parris. “His name’s Valerik and he’s raised a few red flags since you spotted him yesterday morning. A little over a day ago, a temporary CDC compound in southern Uganda was attacked. The main suspects may be members of an organization called the Arms of Ares. Have you ever heard of them?”

“Of course. Everyone’s watching out for them. The CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, you name it.”

“They’ve recently raised the bar on bio-warfare. They’ve been researching a very deadly microbe.”

“What type of microbe?”

“It’s called Pandora.” Fox took a sip of water. “Sound familiar?”

“Yes. I was a weapons analyst back in the days the Defense Department was researching it. But wasn’t that project cancelled several years ago?”

“It turns out that some people didn’t want that. Ares is trying to market Pandora. I managed to stop them from selling it to Sudanese government officials who were going to use Darfurian locals as guinea pigs. But we believe that Valerik has obtained samples of Pandora and has given them to this man.”

Fox reached into the blazer that hung on his chair and pulled out a rolled-up legal-sized brown envelope. He handed it to Parris. She opened it and removed the pictures.

“I believe you’re well acquainted with him?”

Parris stared briefly at the picture. “Of course. He’s my boss.”

“Small world, isn’t it? Several years ago he was believed to have helped the Soviets develop a brainwashing program. Today he’s a cult leader. I’ve been informed that the Boeisho has been keeping close watch on his cult. Three of their agents infiltrated the group. Lately, they’ve all gone missing.”

She stared at the photo. “If he’s involved, then it’s possible that all of our test subjects who’ve been given the drug could be recruited as cult members. They’d be easy, vulnerable targets. All this time I thought this talk of a cult was part of the experiment.”

“It’s very real. Your experiments were nothing more than a front.”

Parris raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, Lord.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Doctor. You would’ve found out sooner or later. Valerik’s picture’s there as well.”

Parris took out his photograph. “Yeah, I saw him yesterday as I was leaving Hashimoto’s office. He didn’t look too friendly. I also passed him on my way to work this morning.”

“He has a history. He went off the CIA’s radar several years ago-”

“During the Cold War, only to resurface now. Yeah, I’ve learned that much from Tomas. If he stole samples of Pandora for Hashimoto, then he could easily hide it at Hexagon.” Parris poured herself a cup of tea. She took out a navy blue handmade table napkin with yellow frilled borders. She placed it on the corner of the table, when suddenly her jaw dropped and she looked past Fox.

“What’s wrong?” asked Fox.

Parris leapt from her chair and dashed over to the television in a few long strides. She turned up the volume-Valerik’s picture was on the screen. She heard Fox’s chair sliding in the background and heard him approach. She couldn’t understand what was being said, but seeing Valerik’s picture could only mean bad news. Her thoughts were later confirmed when a multi-car pile-up on a highway was shown.

She glanced over at Fox before looking back at the television. “What just happened?”

“For starters, he’s dead.”