Arnaud de Föhn's Incidents

And Then There Were Two
Author:  Bladewind

Rating:  PG-13
Notes:  This is a continuation of Invisible Eve, with Arnaud de Föhn and Andrea Kanovfara.  I’ve introduced a new character, Genevieve Oiselet, who is the creation of Gwenyfahra.
Disclaimer:  I don’t own any of the characters of The Invisible Man or the storyline.  Hey, I wish I did, but I’m just not that lucky.
Music:  Déchiré, from the French musical Notre Dame de Paris

I was sitting in the library, practicing yoga to still myself.  A small smile came to my lips as my muscles started to strain in the lotus position.  I tried to focus my mind onto nothing, become empty, but it kept running on.  I got up abruptly, irritated that I couldn’t control myself.  I quicksilvered my palm and made a throwing motion, and a rain of quicksilver flew through the air. 

                For the past week I’d had a growing feeling of restlessness.  After Arnaud and I had returned to the lab—I still smiled wryly at our means of arrival—we had finally truly discussed everything.  Quicksilver madness, the gland, the other scientists here, my purpose.  Arnaud had made me reaffirm my promise to him, and reiterated the fact that we were working together.  I had willingly complied.  After all, this new life—again—was something that I couldn’t get out of anyway, and I was in a better position now than I’d ever been before.

I remembered back to my childhood…I had been an exceptional student who went rebellious.  After my family disowned me, I found my way onto the streets and earned my living as a “bodyguard” of sorts, among other things.  I had finally turned myself around a few years ago and went back to pursuing my childhood interests—music, art, and aerospace.  One could say that I masqueraded as a researcher, looking the part but never dropping my old habits.  They were too useful, too ingrained.  Then Arnaud got me, put this gland in my head, and I was back at my former life again! 

I sighed…it seemed that I could never break free of it.  Well, one does what one knows, I suppose.  This was my life now—working with a terrorist as his right hand, privy to his plans, being his lover.  I sighed again.  Once Arnaud and I had had our major discussions we had worked even more with invisibility, especially preventing becoming visible while silvered.  I grimaced, remembering the whole debacle with Fawkes and Hobbes in San Diego.  Then we had done some odd jobs together, worked on consolidating Arnaud’s power and met with some people and “persuaded” them it was a good idea for them to cooperate with us. 

                For the past week I’d been kept in the lab with nothing to do, thoroughly neglected by Arnaud in every sense of the word.  Needless to say, I was getting tense.  I couldn’t go down regularly into Starflï because the villagers would remember me and start wondering where I came from, start poking around.  We really couldn’t have that.  Random acts of quicksilvering were quickly becoming unentertaining, and I had destroyed Arnaud’s straw target from knifing it so much. 

                Fuck it, I thought impatiently.  I need something to do! 

                I walked out of the library, to my little room and grabbed up a dagger, one of my bigger blades…I smiled grimly.  Since the target was gone, I’d use the trees.  After that, I was going to go hunting! 

                I was outside, dancing through the rhythm of the exercises—whirl, aim, throw, guard—when I saw something flutter at the edge of my vision.  I pretended to ignore it, not giving away the fact I had noticed the intruder.  I retrieved my dagger from where it had made a large gash in the tree and turned to look for the noise, expecting to see a guard or a chamois or something like that.  I stared.  It was not a guard.  And it was definitely not a cute little mountain goat.    

                “What are you doing here?”  I asked the person in front of me, a delicate, ghostly woman with cascades of auburn hair.  She stared back at me, a look of incomprehension on her face, blue chiffon skirt blowing around her slender legs.  I switched to French and repeated my question.  She looked curiously at me.  “I live here,” she said softly.  “Who are you and what are you doing mangling those trees?” 

                I tossed my dagger from hand to hand.  “Oh, really?  You live here, out in the middle of the woods?”  Then I sneered.  “Do stop lying to me.  You came up from Starflï, didn’t you?  Well, I suggest you go back—right now.”  I leaned against a pine and examined my blade. 

                The woman examined me as I did her.  I could see a quick mind behind her startling green eyes and miffed expression.  Then a look of absolute helplessness cast itself upon her face.  “Oh, mademoiselle, I am terribly lost.  When I said here, I did mean Starflï.  If I am trespassing, then please, do show me the way out.”  She smiled nervously and extended a hand to me. 

                Something didn’t add up.  I knew Arnaud had guards patrolling the perimeter, and she couldn’t have possibly wandered in though a non-existent gap in the fence.  For another thing, she didn’t look like a villager.  That chiffon skirt was one hundred percent silk, and the cream-colored velvet half-cape hadn’t come cheap, either. 

                “Show me the way out, and you will never see me again,” she pressed me, extending her hand more urgently.  “I promise.”  Her voice trembled, but her eyes sparkled.

                “Okay, I don’t know who the hell you are, but I don’t particularly care,” I said shortly, springing forward and holding my dagger to her pearl-white throat.  Suddenly her expression changed to a fox’s and she jumped on me, trying to throw my balance.  I struggled with her and finally clamped my strong hand on her mouth, pinning her against a tree.

“Now if you promise to get out of here and never say a word to anyone, I may let you live.”  The point of my knife nicked her throat.  I was considering how to kill her but hadn’t decided yet when I heard a yell.  

                “Andrea!” a voice called.  I turned, still holding the woman captive.  “Mademoiselle Kanovfara!  Stop!” 

                It was Arnaud.  I looked at him.  “This woman—” I started.  He cut me off with a wave of his hand.  “Release her,” he commanded.  I thrust her forward, wondering what this was all about.  She stumbled to a halt halfway between the two of us, looking nervous.  Well she should, I thought, Arnaud looks none too pleased, whatever’s happening. 

                “You know this woman?”  I asked him dryly.  “Glad you came when you did; I was preparing to take her out—in accordance to your orders,” I added. 

                Arnaud nodded.  “Yes, good to see you following directions.  Normally there would be no problem with killing her.  However, she is one of mine and her death would…not be appreciated.”

                “Not be appreciated?” the woman mumbled mockingly.  “That’s a shock.”                 

“One of yours?”  I raised an eyebrow at both of their comments.  “Pray continue.” 

                “Yes,” he said, slightly annoyed.  “This is Genevieve Oiselet, and I’d really rather she stay alive-”

That name rang a bell.  “Genevieve Oiselet…the Genevieve Oiselet, the one I read about in your file?”

                “The same,” Arnaud replied.  “Now,” he took the woman’s arm, “you are going back to where you came from and I will discipline you shortly.  Andrea—” he said as Genevieve started to struggle. 

                I walked back over to her and snaked my arm around her neck.  “Come on, Mademoiselle Oiselet.  Obviously you did something you weren’t supposed to, and now I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” 

                “Damn you, Arnaud!”  Genevieve cried suddenly.  “All I wanted to do was go for a walk, get outside for a little while!  My God, next I’m going to have to ask permission to breathe!  Let me go, please, Mademoiselle Kanovfara!”  Her voice pleaded, and her eyes watered with angry tears.

                I looked from Arnaud’s pale green eyes to Genevieve’s beryl ones.  Then I shook my head.  “It’s not my affair,” I said.  “Monsieur de Föhn is the boss, and you follow his directions.”

                “Let her go,” Arnaud said suddenly.  “Now, Vivi,” he said to the woman.  I pretended to look away and turned, chucking my knife casually at the tree I’d been using for target practice.  Arnaud drew the woman with him toward the entrance to the lab.

                As soon as they had entered the lab I quicksilvered and followed them.  There was no way that I was letting this little event go by without an explanation. 

***

                “Vivi,” I heard Arnaud say, displeasure thickening his voice.  “You are not allowed to go out without my permission.  You know that.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn you over to de Montpar now—” 

                “No!” she cried, struggling to break free from Arnaud.  Her auburn hair flew as she strained desperately to break away from his imprisoning arms.  “Please!  No, God, I swear I won’t go outside without asking you again, just please, please—”

                I watched the scene with a sickening feeling in my stomach.  Genevieve flailed against Arnaud, and he held her easily, a small, twisted smile on his face.  I felt a cold knot land itself into my stomach like a stone.  I didn’t know what was happening or what de Montpar was going to do, but by the terror on the woman’s face, I had the feeling she would have been better off with my simply killing her.  God, at least that would have been clean. 

                I didn’t have a problem with killing or thieving, or anything in the line of work Arnaud had recruited me into, but I did have a problem with torture.  It achieved nothing and only poisoned the torturer.  Genevieve was so obviously terrified of her impending punishment that she was practically falling apart before my eyes. 

Arnaud thrust the poor woman down the hallway, through the lab, and to a door that I had never been through before.  I checked, caught unawares, then decided to follow him.  My old refrain of “knowledge is power” rang through my head, and my mouth twisted into a dark smile.  Whatever happened to this Genevieve wasn’t my business, but I would know anyway.  Just because I worked extensively and closely with Arnaud didn’t mean that one day I wouldn’t need blackmail information on him.  Blackmail.  Such a nasty word.  I preferred to think of it as “insurance.” 

Arnaud carried Genevieve bodily into a small lab from where she had collapsed in the hallway.  De Montpar was in the room, peering through a microscope.  He looked up and saw Arnaud with Genevieve, and a grimace that passed for a smile grew on his face.  “Leave her with me,” he commanded. 

Genevieve grew even paler, if that were possible, and she looked like a trapped animal, panicking.  Arnaud dropped the woman to the floor, and she shrieked insults at him that I’d never even heard before.  De Montpar took her into his grip and her protests took on a new level of fear.  I decided I really didn’t want to know what was going to happen, and after all Arnaud was about to pass through a locked security door.  I hurried silently after him, trying not to listen to the cries of the terrified woman, and found that we were in a stairwell.  Arnaud was ascending, and I followed him, still invisible.  After we’d climbed for what I estimated to be five stories, Arnaud stopped in front of another door, punched in a security code, and stepped inside. 

I looked around.  What the hell? I thought, shocked.  We were in a greenhouse, hot and humid, with lush greenery and exotic flowers everywhere.  Arnaud was striding through it without hesitation, however, and I followed, curious to see what else was here. 

We walked through a solarium, a huge, ancient library, and finally came to a huge carved oak door.  Arnaud opened it and I drew back in surprise.  It was an opulent bedroom suite, open and airy.  On a raised dais in the center of the room a canopied bed stood, crafted from elegantly carved wood and blackened with age.  Tasteful, small Greek sculptures stood on marble plinths ringing the room, and a large pair of French doors opened out to the vista below.  The cascading drapes were made of dark blue velvet, the same material as the bed’s canopy.  I saw a large marble bathroom behind an open side door, and another room that I presumed to be an expansive closet.  I looked back at the bed, idly wondering when Arnaud and I would share it, then noticed not his clothes beside it but a woman’s lacy undergarments and crumpled evening dress.  I heard Arnaud mutter, “How many times must I tell you not to leave your clothing lying about…” 

My eyes widened in surprise, then anger.  What was this?  Unless he was a cross-dresser, there was something going on here that I didn’t know about, and I didn’t like that.  I wanted to know more, but decided to get out of there before I overdid the quicksilver.  Desilvering my tattoo and glancing at it, I noted that I still had plenty of time.  Two-thirds of the dagger was still normal—about an hour’s worth of invisibility left.  I walked silently out of the room and retraced my route through this place.  It had to be the mansion above the lab. 

I finally made it to my room back at the underground lab and desilvered.  I had nothing to occupy my time, so I decided to find out what had happened to that Genevieve.  I went invisible and headed off to the room Arnaud had left her in. 

***

Much later…

                “Arnaud,” I said softly.  He looked up, shocked, at the sound of my voice.  Seeing nothing, he commanded, “Show yourself!” 

                “Oh, Monsieur de Föhn,” I said casually, stepping forward as quicksilver fell off of me, “don’t act so surprised!  You should have known it would be only a matter of time before I found out about this.”  I gestured.  We were in Arnaud’s spacious bedroom.  He was sitting on a Victorian couch, laptop beside him. 

                Leaning against one of the marble plinths, I addressed the bust in front of me.  “Hello, pleased to meet you.  Have you been watching our terrorist lay his plans?”  To Arnaud I continued, “Quite a nice place you have here.  This is, I assume, is the chalet over the lab.” 

                “Yes,” he said heavily.  “Yes, this is the chalet—”

                “And you were planning on showing me this when, again?”  I broke in, anger hardening my voice.  “And telling me about this?”  I stalked over to the bed and grabbed the crumpled evening dress.  “Whose, exactly, is it?”  I shook the dress in his face.  Arnaud lunged for it and I pulled it away.  “Tell me and I’ll let you have it,” I taunted. 

                “Ce n’est pas ton affaire!” he told me harshly. 

                “Yeah, well,” I said rudely.  “If you want the next operation to go well, you will tell me what I want to know.” 

                Arnaud glared at me.  “This is Genevieve’s dress,” he informed me, voice cold.  “Now,” he said, making a pass for the garment. 

                “Tut-tut!”  I admonished, whisking it away from him and quicksilvering it.  “Oh, where did it go?  Hmm…I don’t see it.  I guess you’ll just have to tell me more.” 

                By now Arnaud’s eyes were blazing furiously.  I matched him, gold sparks glowing intensely in my eyes.  “Dammit,” I said grimly.  “I thought you’d told me everything, Arnaud.  I won’t work with you any other way—”

                He cut in.  “You honestly believe that I’d tell you everything?  Of course not.  You and I are two of a kind—know more about the other than they know about you.  And you will work with me, because you need counteragent, and I’m the only person in the whole world who will give it to you.” 

                “Damn you!”  I yelled at him, throwing the dress in his face.  It hit him and went visible, and he smiled smugly at my rare outburst of temper.  Suddenly I felt a stab of pain in my skull and gasped.  I looked at my dagger tattoo and saw it was flushed almost entirely crimson.  I cursed Arnaud flamboyantly.  He merely raised an eyebrow at me.

                I fell to the floor as another poker stabbed into the gland, then shuddered as a wave of hate and sexual desire flooded through me.  Arnaud leaned back on the couch and watched, letting it sink into me that the tables had turned.  Another knife caused my fingers to clutch convulsively at the hardwood floor, and then I stood up calmly.  I silvered a fingertip and moved over to Arnaud, trailing my finger over my neck and then his.  “Come on, Arnaud,” I whispered into his ear.

                He slapped me across the face, and I batted my cold silver eyes from beneath half-closed lashes.  “Oh, that was so good,” I told him demurely.  “You are so strong, so powerful…you’re like a jaguar.”  I purred. 

                Arnaud grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back to him.  I pulled his mouth to mine and kissed him.  His teeth caught my lip and I sighed.  Then he pulled out a fine-edged knife and slashed it across my cheek, drawing silvery blood.  I laughed at the odd effect, then reached for the knife.

                Suddenly the door burst open and I heard a feminine scream.  “Arretez!”  Arnaud whirled around.  There stood Genevieve, horror on her face.  “Our bedroom, Arnaud!  What are you doing with Kanovfara here!”  Rage made her French words tremble.  “The only thing I ever asked of you was never bring them into our bedroom!” 

“Get out, Genevieve,” Arnaud said harshly. 

                “No,” she said firmly, stamping a slippered foot.  “You get her out of—” Genevieve paused suddenly, staring at me in horror.  “My God!  What is happening to her?  The cut, her skin, her eyes…What have you done to her?”

                I looked at her with my silver-and-amber eyes.  “Don’t worry, darling,” I said lazily.  “You’ll get your turn, I’m sure.  Oh—and get a gland.  They’re so much fun.”  I laughed carelessly, getting up and quicksilvering.     

                Arnaud ran over to the door and shut it before I could get out.  “Andrea, show yourself,” he commanded.  I picked up the forgotten evening dress and waved it under Genevieve’s nose.  “This is yours, I assume,” I whispered in her ear.  She jumped, frightened.  I laughed at her and desilvered, running a finger along her collarbone. 

Then a heavy blow landed on my head.  I blacked out just as I saw Arnaud place a brass vase from where he’d grabbed it, a satisfied look on his face.

***

I heard soft whisperings as the last tatters of darkness melted from my mind.  I listened for a moment before opening my eyes.  It sounded as if von Waldenhaus was speaking with…Genevieve? 

“C’est comment elle apparais?”

“Oui.  C’est très intéressant, n’est-ce pas?”

“Bien.  Mais je lui plainds à cause de la démence.”

“Tu n’as pas beaucoup d’espace pour la pitié, mon amie.”

I opened my eyes as a door to the lab opened and Arnaud strode in.  He exchanged a few harsh words with von Waldenhaus, then stood over me.

I was on the operating table in the lab.  I looked at all of them expectantly—Arnaud, von Waldenhaus, Genevieve—then put a hand to my slashed cheek. 

                “It will scar slightly,” von Waldenhaus spoke up apologetically.  I looked at him.  “Thank you,” I said quietly.  “Thank you for being kind to me.” 

                At that, Arnaud said briskly, “Well, now you are awake.  Come.  I have a new assignment for you.”  He pulled me upright.

                “Whoa, wait just a minute,” I said, struggling to control my temper.  “Before we do anything—and I mean anything—I am going to ask you some questions.  And you are going to answer me.  Truthfully!” 

                A muscle jumped in Arnaud’s jaw, and then Genevieve placed a hand on his arm and spoke softly to him.  I noted with some curiosity that his expression relaxed with her words. 

                Arnaud turned back to me.  “I suppose I must tell you to make you happy,” he said, displeasure obvious.  “What do you want to know?”

                “Who is she and why is she here?”  I demanded, pointing at Genevieve.  She muttered something under her breath. 

                Arnaud silenced her with a look.  “She is, as you know, Genevieve Oiselet, and she is here because it pleases me for her to be.”  Arnaud glared at me frostily. 

                “What did you do to her?”

                Arnaud snorted.  “What, since she’s here I must have dome something to her?”

                I looked at him, annoyed.  “Stop stalling.  Just tell me.” 

                He glared at me.  “It’s none of your business.  What has happened to her does not concern you.”

                I controlled my irritation.  So he didn’t want to tell me.  Fine.  I would find out some other way.  “How long has she been here, and why haven’t I ever seen her before?” 

“She’s been at the mansion for quite some time.  I’d kept you separated because I didn’t feel you two could…handle each other quite yet.  I was waiting for a more opportune time but someone saw fit to intercede.”  He glared at Genevieve.  She plastered an innocent look onto her face, and I laughed derisively at her.

Arnaud looked at the two of us.  I looked back at him.  Although I was sorely pissed at him, I still couldn’t hate him—he was just too brilliant.  I sighed heavily. 

                “Alright,” I said, conceding defeat.  “Whatever you say.  Fine.”

***

A few minutes later…

                Von Waldenhaus dabbed an alcohol’d cotton swab to my cheek.  I winced at the sting.  “So,” he said, German accenting his English.  “I hear you’re going to the States again.” 

                “Really?  No one told me that,” I said dryly.

                “I overheard Monsieur de Föhn talking about it with Monsieur Thibaut a few minutes ago.  Something about the Department of Defense and their program against biological warfare?” 

                “Hmm,” I mulled that over.  “Thanks for telling me.  And Kurt—” I placed a hand on his arm and he looked up.  “Thanks for being my friend.”

Von Waldenhaus grinned.  “Anytime,” he replied. 

Then Arnaud walked into the room.  “So, Monsieur de Föhn,” I said without emotion.  “What now?”  He looked at me, genuinely concerned, and asked, “Are you feeling well?”

“And if I weren’t?”  I said coldly.  “Not like you would care.”  I quicksilvered the cut on my cheek, then let the stuff flake away.  I was angry with him for letting me descend into quicksilver madness, and then pushing me into it even deeper by his actions.  I Quicksilvered my eyes and stared at him, which I knew he hated.  He shuddered. 

“Andrea,” he said, gripping my forearms and pulling me up.  We left von Waldenhaus and walked through the lab.  I realized that we were passing through the corridors that led to the chalet.  Finally, we entered the greenhouse and I wallowed in the heat, enjoying the light and humidity.  Arnaud smiled at the look of happiness on my face.  I walked over to a hanging pot of cascading orchids.  He plucked one and placed it carefully in my hair. 

Surprised and pleased, I turned to him and laid my head on his chest, hearing his heart beat.  He put his strong arms around me and rubbed my back.  “Arnaud,” I whispered.  “I’ve missed you.”  He stroked my hair, and I pulled him closer, feeling his chest flex.  I took in a deep breath.

“Oh, hell,” I whispered.  “I hate fighting you.  You’ve given me everything, and I’ve given you everything I can in return.  I just hate not knowing about something like Genevieve.  I don’t ask that you tell me everything, just…these little things.” 

He said nothing, just ran his hands though my hair.  He picked another orchid for me and handed it to me, and then it was crushed between our bodies as our lips met.  Arnaud rained kisses down on my face and then trailed his lips down my neck.  I inhaled sharply as desire for him swept through me.  I let it, because I knew it wasn’t driven by quicksilver, just my own need.  I traced a silver finger along the line of his jaw. 

We broke away.  I looked at him squarely, then smiled at him.  “Thank you,” I said softly, pulling the orchid from my hair and smelling it.  He took my hand and kissed my palm, and I shivered in delight.  Then he drew back from me.  “Come on,” he said. 

                We walked through the chalet while Arnaud talked.  “I have a new mission for you,” he said conversationally.  “I’m sending you back to the US, to Washington DC this time.” 

                “Crap,” I muttered.  “Another long plane flight.  Anyway,” I continued, “What is it this time?”

                “You’re going to infiltrate the Department of Defense and steal their information on their biological weapons defenses.  I’ve prepared a file for you.  First, you’re going to hack into their database and lift and erase all relevant information.  Immediately after that you will crash their security systems and then infiltrate their labs to lift samples of their vaccines.  This is going to be the hardest mission yet for you, but I believe you can handle it.” 

                “A vote of confidence,” I commented dryly.  “Thank you.  When do I leave?” 

                “Soon,” he told me.  “But not yet.”  He scooped me up and carried me to his room where he placed me on the bed’s satin sheets and leaned over me.  I reached for him and tumbled into pleasure, not caring how infuriated his other woman would be.

***

The next day…

                I was clinging invisibly to the rough stone wall, fingers and toes curling in the cracks of the rock.  The side of my face pressed tight against the cold roughness and wind whipped my hair into my eyes.  I crept up to the top of the wall and then stood upright.  I looked down to the other side of it and saw the huge drop to the slate floor.  I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, and jumped.

                “Shit!”  I swore as my feet hit the ground and my quicksilver fell off of me.  Knees bent, I went into a roll and resilvered.  I stood up, invisible again, and looked around.  The high enclosing wall I had scaled surrounded a slate-floored outside area.  The wall of the chalet was also rough, dark-gray stone, but had small, many-paned casement windows set in it.  A large pair of glass doors led to the inside of the building. 

                I pulled open the French doors and strode through.  I didn’t recognize this part of the chalet, but that was all right.  I started off, looking through each room.  Then I checked my tattoo and saw I had about thirty minutes left.   

I was searching for Genevieve, and had to infiltrate the chalet in this unusual fashion because Arnaud had changed the security codes on the doors.  If he discovered what I was doing, he would deny me counteragent for a year.  I imagined his reaction, and shuddered.  It wouldn’t be pleasant…I only hoped that if he did find out, I would already be in quicksilver madness and so his punishments wouldn’t matter.  I hoped. 

I finally found the woman sitting before a mirror in a small lavender dressing room, humming along to…ABBA?  She was stroking out her long, red-chestnut hair, the edges of her purple, sheer-sleeved nightgown evoking images of wings.  I walked in silently and regarded her critically for a moment.  Finally I desilvered and she saw me in the mirror standing behind her.  She whirled around.  “How did you—how did you get here?” she demanded, surprise and fear tingeing her voice. 

“Because I’m me, dear,” I said wryly.  “Now, I’m only here for a moment, then I promise you I’ll leave.”  The ghost of her words from our first meeting floated out.  She looked at me, acknowledging the fact that she had tried to play me.  I graced her with a tight smile. 

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly, hands fluttering around her hair.

I walked over to her and picked up a brush.  “I need some information,” I told her, brushing out my long tawny hair.  “You know I work with Arnaud,” I continued.  “I just want to know about you.  Obviously you hold some sway over him, but he also…punishes you if you do something that displeases him.” 

A small cry caught in Genevieve’s throat.  I placed a hand on her shoulder, feigning sympathy.  This meeting was crucial if I wanted to make Genevieve trust me.  I also wanted to find out more information that I might need as “insurance” at a later time.  “Tell me what happened,” I said gently, looking at her and softening my eyes.  “I heard your cries, saw the terror on your face when Arnaud handed you over to de Montpar.”  I remembered the sight of her dress in Arnaud’s room as well and felt quicksilver anger flood through me, which I quickly stifled.  An idea floated through my head.  There would only be one woman here, and that was I.  If I played my cards right, I could manipulate Genevieve’s anger at Arnaud to get her out of here permanently... 

“How do you know about that?” she whispered tensely.  I looked benevolently at her.  “One of Arnaud’s gifts,” I told her obscurely.  Surprisingly, she nodded.

“What happened?”  I repeated coaxingly.  “I saw you screaming when de Montpar had you, and he had on some sort of mask…what does he do to you?”

A tear trickled down her pale cheek and her hand clenched on nothing.  “He…oh, awful things!  He uses needles,” she whispered.  “And then he gives me something hallucinogenic…acid or PCP or something.  Then he puts on these masks and everything stretches out of proportion and it is so horrible!” she sobbed.  “And then he comes back with the syringes….”

I stroked her cheek in a gesture of sympathy.  “That is so terrible,” I said quietly.  “No one deserves that.”  She continued to cry. 

“It’s so frightening,” she sniffed.  I pulled out a tissue from my pocket and gave it to her.  She dabbed at her eyes with it. 

“Why does Arnaud do this to you?”  I asked, choosing my words carefully. 

“I can’t do anything without his permission,” she said weakly.  “I have to ask him when I can go outside…he chooses what I wear, what I do.  I wanted to go outside and couldn’t find him, so I just wandered out.” 

“That really sucks,” I told her frankly.  She nodded in agreement.  “Why are you here at all, though?”  I asked quietly.  “Me, Arnaud recruited me.  I work with him as his right hand.  What are you to him?”  Although I had an idea, I wanted to see what she called herself. 
                “I am…well, what do you want me to say, hmm?”  She spun on me, tears overflowing from her angry, hurt eyes.  “I don’t know what I am anymore!  I am nothing, do you understand?  He has unmade me!” she cried.  “Now get out of here before I tell him you came!” 

“You won’t tell him,” I smiled at her, all the while assessing her.  “You’re angry with him.  Now,” I said, sitting on the floor beside her.  “I want to be your friend.  We’re women in this together, hmm?”  I smiled wryly.  “But we can’t be that unless I know everything about you and Arnaud.” 

“I can’t.”  She controlled herself and turned back to her makeup, painting her eyes black. 

“Then tell me what you can,” I prompted.

“I am…Arnaud’s first experiment.  I’ve been with him since the beginning of his life as…what he is now.”  Her voice hardened.  “He cured me of my illness but…created another one in me.  He gives me an oral dose of medicine every so often to keep me well.  He is the only one in the whole world who can keep me from my illness.”

I thought she was talking about an addiction of some sort, but she couched it in far too vague of terms for what I needed to know.  But I decided to leave before she really did resolve to tell Arnaud about my visit.  “I understand,” I told her, pityingly.  “Believe me, I know what you go through.”  At that, I quicksilvered rapidly as I stepped back, a nice effect.  Genevieve took a double take, then shook her head and sighed, sinking down to the vanity seat again.

***

Good Lord, I needed a shot—I could feel my madness starting to creep over me, and I fought the old battle silently.  I hurried over to my dresser and dug through a drawer, praying the vial was still there.  It was.  I pulled out a small vial of blue liquid, my counteragent, and drew a bit into a syringe.  I stuck myself with the needle and pushed the plunger.  In a second I felt a cooling wash flow through my body and the red miasma of encroaching quicksilver madness lifted from my brain. 

I had just had a shot a day ago and shouldn’t have needed one for another two and a half weeks.  If I plunged into quicksilver madness now, Arnaud would know I’d been using quicksilver.  I silently thanked the powers that be that I had once filched a vial of counteragent for exactly this reason.  Well, now I had another hour and a half of invisibility at my disposal. 

                Now with a clear head, I lay down on my bed and mulled over what I knew about Genevieve Oiselet.  I laughed mirthlessly.  Not much.  She was Arnaud’s first human experiment.  He had somehow created a “wonder drug” that cured her of all her numerous substance addictions, but that drug must have been extremely addicting in itself.  However, from what she said, he gave her the drug, in essence feeding her addiction. 

                I sighed.  I needed to know more about this woman, this Genevieve Oiselet…I snorted.  Pretentious name.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t pursue that particular hare right now.  Arnaud was already wary and angry with me and I didn’t need him to cut me off from my sanity, counteragent.  Besides, he had a mission for me and I needed his help to complete it.  I jumped off the bed and started to pace.  What was special about Mademoiselle Oiselet that Arnaud kept her? 

Oh, I knew this was all motivated by jealousy.  Obviously.  Arnaud and I had grown very close since he’d made me his Invisible Eve and I resented the fact that there was someone else as well.  A flash of quicksilver anger flared through me.  Damn, this just wasn’t right!  How could Arnaud do this to me?  He tore me away from my old, secure life and put me in this position—if I was ever caught by any government agency, they would torture me with tests on quicksilver, then throw me in the gulag and melt the key.  Then they’d keep the little puddle of useless metal in my cell to torment me.  I smiled sourly.  I guess I just could never get caught, then.   

I had accepted my new line of work with Arnaud de Föhn and we’d just started to have a serious synergy developing, started working together like we shared one mind, and then!  This wisp of a woman drops in.  Quicksilver started to creep its way up my arms in reaction to my irritation and anger, and I let it.  This woman was an intrusion into the precarious new world I now lived in, and I did not appreciate it.  Oh—and I definitely didn’t like the fact that she obviously shared Arnaud’s bed.  My lips skinned back from my teeth in a wolf-snarl. 

I knew this if I knew anything—Genevieve Oiselet had to go.  And I was going to be the one to do it.  Through lies, deceptions, force if need be, I was going to take her out of the picture.  Hell, hadn’t Arnaud done the same thing to me?  Then I paused.  Prudence, though, was absolutely necessary.  I wouldn’t resort to force unless she drove me totally insane, because if I did, Arnaud would destroy me.  Rather, I would try and befriend her, or at least get her to trust me, a little.  I pulled out a jet-handled dirk and examined it minutely.  I would bide my time, for now.  And when the time was right, when my thoughts had formed into a plan and everything was perfect, I would spring.  And it would be beautiful. 

I threw the dirk at my wall and it thudded home satisfyingly.  I stalked over to it, pulled it out, and quicksilvered it.  Then I flounced out of my room in search of Kurt von Waldenhaus.  He was the closest thing to a simple friend I had here, and I thanked whatever entity out there that he was around. 

***

Arnaud found me before I found von Waldenhaus.  He caught me up in a passionate kiss right outside the door to the dining room.  Finally pulling away, I gasped, “What was that for?  Tell me so I know to do it again.” 

                He grinned casually at me and stepped into the dining room.  I followed, walking over to the holographic fire, entranced as ever by it.  But thinking of the fire, I thought of Arnaud…I turned back around to him.  He was looking me over with his pale green eyes in the most suggestive manner.  “Oh, behave yourself,” I told him teasingly.

                “How can I?” he replied dramatically, “when I have before me a nymph with eyes of exotic amber and hair of honeyed silk, clad in suede and leather?”  He reached his strong hand out to me and I kissed it lightly. 

                “As much as I’d dearly love to…enjoy the day with you, I’m afraid you had a mission for me,” I sighed.  “Better to do it and get it done with.”

                “Ah, you are such a focused woman,” Arnaud applauded.  “Yet another reason why I enjoy having you as my associate.  Well,” he walked over to the oak table and picked up a folder lying there.  “Actually, I’ve had a slight change in plans.  You will carry out the mission on the Department of Defense eventually, but right now I need to get you off of the Agency black list—permanently.  This is what we will do…” He started to outline his plan to me. 

After a few sentences, I smiled.  It was quite ingenious—very clean—and would make it seem conclusively that I was dead, but required little work on our part.  “Bravo, Arnaud,” I complimented him.  “Damn, I love working with someone like you—cunning and sexy.” 

Arnaud smiled darkly at me.  “That is why I chose you; you expedite my plans by working with me and not against me.”

I looked into his eyes.  “I must,” I said.  “After all, you gave this life to me and for that, I’m obligated to you.  Not that it’s so bad…it could have been worse.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at me and reached out to trace my jaw.

I sighed.  “Yes…if you weren’t so damned handsome I wouldn’t desire to…perform my duties up to par.  But as it is, you are…very enticing.”  I grinned slightly at his self-satisfied smile.  The man did enjoy having his ego fed.  “And you’re so entirely brilliant on top of that.”  I ran a hand along his chest.  “Thus, I want to stay with you.  I want to be forever loyal to you.  Everything of me is yours…My lust, my love, my loyalty.  As long as you respect me as well.”

“How could I not?” Arnaud sighed along my cheek.  He swept me up and kissed me thoroughly.  “You are brilliant, Andrea Kanovfara.  Determined.  Beautiful.  And I know you are loyal; your every action has proved that to me.”  He paused to kiss me again.  “And as long as you do obey what I ask, I will not force you to violate your own code.”

“That’s a double-edged sword if I ever heard one.”  I smiled wryly.  “Just make sure that you keep to one side, not both,” I kissed his fingers and whispered, “you do understand.” 

“I see I’m not the only one skilled with double meanings,” he whispered into my ear.  I felt my skin go cold with quicksilver in anticipation.  He grinned as I let myself go invisible.  “Find me, Arnaud!”  I teased him.  He chuckled and reached out for me.  “Cat and mouse,” I whispered into his ear. 

“Oh, what I will do to you once I catch you,” he told me, turning around the room. 

I decided to tease him a bit.  “Really?  I love it when you play rough with me…just not the others.”  I paused, recalling that look of terror on his other woman’s face.  “Torture of others, Arnaud; it’s the one thing I don’t and won’t tolerate—”

He cut in.  “But you just love it to yourself.  You have such a complex id.”  He laughed shortly and continued to circle the room, still searching for me.

                “You don’t understand.” I told him evenly.  “I’ve lived with myself long enough to know what I am.  There’s that…other part of me I don’t ever let out.  Yet somehow quicksilver just manages to weasel through and break the safe I keep it hidden in.  Why?”

                “Quicksilver is beautiful,” Arnaud said.  “But not perfect.  Your temper has been under your control for so long it’s become instinctual, and so quicksilver can’t break that.  But your…other condition manifested itself later, although it is also instinctual.  Your control of it isn’t, precisely because you’re so afraid of it.  So quicksilver can easily overwhelm your restraint.”

                “Ah,” I said, mulling over this new information.  “As much as I hate it, I have to say that that is damned clever.  And another line of my code for you…I will never kill or hurt children.  Just in case there was something ever along those lines in your plans.”

                Suddenly Arnaud sprang and tackled me, knocking the quicksilver off of me.  “Damn,” I swore.  “You said too much,” he informed me.  I stared at him.  “Double meaning again, lover?”  

                “Of course,” he replied.  Then, “Show me your side of the blade again, hmm?”  So I proceeded to show him just what I could do.

***

I whipped the car around the corner and floored the accelerator, rocketing down the alley.  I quicksilvered, hauled the form over from the passenger’s seat, and dove from the car just as it smashed into the brick wall of an abandoned warehouse.  A fireball engulfed the vehicle and I sprinted away, staying invisible to watch the Agency shitbox of a van screech to a halt.  Two men I knew to be Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes jumped out.  They ran over to the wreck and peered into the flames, but leapt away as something within the car exploded. 

Hobbes pulled out his cell phone and dialed, presumably 911.  I walked over to them to listen in, wincing at the heat of the fire.  Hobbes snapped the phone shut and his partner looked at the fiercely burning car. 

“Hobbes, what the hell happened?” 

“Damned if I know.  God, poor kid!  Smashed herself right into the wall.  I mean, bam!  Must’ve been going over sixty, too.” 

“Why would she do that, though?  I mean, why just kill herself like that?”

“Hey, maybe she wasn’t as bright as she seemed.  Or maybe killing herself was preferable to the alternatives.”

“What about the body?”

“Fawkes, look at the car.  See how hot that fire is?  All that’s gonna be left is a nice skeleton.”

“Damn…I can’t believe we actually took out one of de Föhn’s people.  Wonder how much red tape they’ll wrap around this one…”

 “We have to wait for the fire department to get here, and then…”

“Yeah.” 

I walked into the empty office building, where I knew Arnaud was waiting, and desilvered.  Or attempted to.  “What the…?” I tried to brush the quicksilver off of me.  I had stopped the flow from the gland, but the quicksilver refused to fall away!  I realized I had turned visibly silver.  “Oh, hell,” I muttered. 

Arnaud was looking at me, an amused smile on his face.  “It appears that the intense heat of the fire has altered the quicksilver structure.  However, I think that a strong enough impact will make it shed.  Run yourself into that wall.  Full force,” he commanded.

“Well that sucks,” I commented dryly, but did as he said.  The quicksilver finally fell off of me.  “Oh, ouch,” I grimaced.  “Remind me not to have to do that again.”  We watched the scene for a few minutes through the grimy window until the fire truck and EMS pulled up. 

 “Allons,” Arnaud said.  “Me mercure.”  I grasped his hand and quicksilvered him, then myself.  We walked out of the building and past the still-flaming wreck.  We looked on as the firemen tried to douse the fire, but they weren’t getting anywhere.  “Water won’t do any good,” Arnaud murmured into my ear.  “The flames are too hot.” 

As if the firemen heard him, they started shouting for CO₂ and chemical-powder extinguishers.  “Aw crap, let’s go, now!” I exclaimed, gripping Arnaud’s hand and dashing down the street and around the corner.  I tugged him behind a conveniently screening bush and let go of his hand.  This street was busy, and I was starting to feel the stress of keeping both of us invisible.  The quicksilver fell off of him, and he turned to me.  I let it flake off of me in a wave, head to toe.  He smiled tightly at me.  We stepped out from behind the bush and melted into the throngs of people on the street.

“What was that for?” he said quietly to me as we strolled down the avenue. 

“You know,” I said shortly.  “Hell, after the sting on the Agency was nearly thwarted by that damned sprinkler water freezing on me, and we worked so much at the lab on preventing that from happening again, you think I’d jeopardize this mission by the same mistake?  No way.”

“Good,” Arnaud replied.  “I’m glad you remembered that.”  He smiled at me. 

“And what do we do now?” I inquired, pretending to look into a store window.  He answered, “We wait until we know that the Agency believes that you are dead.  Then we will proceed.  I am taking no chances.” 

We walked into a little café and took a small corner table, ordering two Irish coffees.  Arnaud sat back in his chair and waited while they were brought.  Then he addressed me in a low voice.  “So how did the mission go?”

I took a sip of my coffee.  “It went well.  I broke into the Agency, wreaked a bit of havoc with all their top-secret information, and for the hell of it, broke their copier.”  Arnaud raised an eyebrow at me.  “Well, come on.  They’re so cheap they shut down when it breaks; it’s too expensive to service.”  Arnaud snorted.  I continued,  “Then I went visible in the lab and let Fawkes and his Keeper see me.  Obviously Hobbes and Fawkes chased after me in that joke of a van.  I led them down into this alley, floored the pedal, pulled the skeleton into my seat, and hauled ass outta there.  I listened to the exchange between Fawkes and Hobbes, and they believe that I am dead.  C’est bon, n’est-ce pas?” 

“Oui,” he replied, smiling at the use of French.  “You never cease to please me with your skills.

***

                “Arnaud, a shot?”  I called over my shoulder to the bedroom.  “Go ahead,” he consented.  I walked over to the mini-fridge beneath the counter in the kitchenette.  I leaned down and pulled the door open.  “Here ‘tis,” I said to myself, taking out a vial of counteragent.  I took a syringe from the counter and unwrapped it, then drew the counteragent into it.  Then I pushed the needle into my arm, relieved to be once again beyond the reaches of quicksilver madness. 

                “You’re going back to the Agency,” Arnaud announced suddenly, voice remote. 

                “What?!” I exclaimed, storming into the bedroom.  Arnaud was standing calmly in front of the sliding glass door, staring out at the stormy night sky.  “What’s the point?” I asked him sharply.  I walked over to stand beside him and looked over the brightly-lit city.  A flash of lightning illuminated us.

                “The Agency most likely thinks you are dead.  But, just for insurance, I need you to plant three devices into the Official’s office, the Keeper’s lab, and the van.” 

                “The van?” I raised my eyebrow. 

                “Easy way to get Fawkes and Hobbes, together.”

                “What precisely are these devices?” I questioned. 

                “They transmit a simple subliminal message.  ‘Andrea Kanovfara is dead.’  As I said, insurance.”

                I laughed.  “Good idea.  But our unsuspecting victims’ exposure to the message will not be continuous.  Will that pose a problem?”

                “No,” he replied.  “What they will get will be enough.  And long-term exposure to the message, even if not continuous, will eventually make them fully believe in your death, even when they aren’t being…persuaded by the devices.” 

                “Alright.  What else do you want me to do?  Do some snooping to see just how much they believe our little ruse?”

                “You know me too well,” Arnaud told me.  “Yes.  Go, and tell me if their copier’s been fixed yet.”  He winked. 

                I grinned broadly at him.  “The bugs?”  I asked.  “In the car,” he replied.  “Good,” I answered, grabbing my leather jacket and leaving the room. 

                Soon I drove up in front of the Agency.  I was glad of the stormy night, both so I didn’t need to use quicksilver, and so I couldn’t.  Quicksilver was essentially useless in the rain, and I was getting a little tired of needing a shot every week.  I walked around the building and soon came to a back entrance.

I pulled out the tiny penknife in my pocket and got to work on the lock.  In a minute I had coaxed the lock open and had slipped into the building.  I looked around—I was in a janitor’s closet.  Good, I thought.  I quicksilvered, making sure to get the devices, and opened the door.  I was in the darkened, shadowy halls of the Agency.  I moved quickly though the building, placing a bug behind the filing cabinet in the Official’s office and then going down to the Keeper’s lab.  The door had an electronic lock, one I couldn’t break without more tools.  I swore, knowing I’d have to come back tomorrow.  I left the building and had soon left a device in the Agency van.  Then I headed back to the motel where Arnaud and I were staying.

***

                Powers that be, I thought to myself, I can’t get away from this place!  I was back at the Agency, this time in broad daylight.  I needed to place the third device into the Keeper’s lab.  I was waiting invisibly outside the lab door for someone to walk through.  After what seemed like eternity, Fawkes walked down to the lab, swiped his card, and I slipped in behind him. 

                “Hi, Claire?” I heard him say.  “What’s up?”  They chatted for a minute, and I looked around the lab, trying to find a good place to hide the device.  I had finally decided to put the bug far from sight beneath her desk when I suddenly caught my name in the conversation.  I tuned in to hear Fawkes say, “Yeah, Andrea Kanovfara, you know, Arnaud’s invisible girl.  She killed herself yesterday.”

                “Really?” the Keeper asked interestedly.  “Tell me about it.”

Hell, I thought, carefully hiding the bug.  I do not need them discussing me!  But I decided to listen to their conversation for a second before activating the device. 

“Well, you know she was here yesterday,” Fawkes said.  “Hobbes and I chased her in the van and caught up with her just in time to see her slam her car into a brick wall.  She went up into a big fireball.”

The Keeper winced.  “Oh, not good.  What about the remains?  Why weren’t they brought here for me to examine the gland?” 

“No gland left to be examined.  Only a charred-up skeleton,” Fawkes answered.  “The EMS took it to the morgue, and Hobbes and I were already up there to look at it today.”

“You know,” the Keeper said slowly, “That sounds a lot like what you and Bobby pulled against the Chinese.”  She leveled a glance at Fawkes.

I swore silently.  Whatever they were talking about, it couldn’t be good.  I hurriedly activated the bug and decided to see if it had any effect on their conversation. 

“Well, we checked the dental records,” Fawkes said.  “We did some research on Kanovfara—did you know she was a U.S. citizen?  Anyway, we got her medical records on file and compared them to the skeleton’s.  Dentals and surgeries all matched—that’s her body.  She’s dead.” 

“Then I see no reason for me to check the body out.  Besides, someone else showing up to check the remains might stir up interest; not a good idea.  Well, I guess that’s one more terrorist off of our list.”

Fawkes nodded pensively.  “She’s dead as can be,” he trailed off.

I smiled in satisfaction and left the lab, the door having thankfully stood open the entire time.  I decided I liked this.  However those little subliminal bugs worked, they certainly worked well.  Almost instantly the Keeper had gone from skepticism to belief in my death.  I strode out of the Agency building and over to my car, deciding to go for a little drive.  I headed out of the city and into the surrounding desert, calling Arnaud on my cell phone to tell him I was taking a little side trip. 

***

                  The sun beat down on me as I trekked over the desert sands.  I squinted into the glare and saw that mountains rose in the distance.  I looked back to see that my car was a tiny form on the flat horizon.  Sweat trickled slowly down my back and I stripped off my shirt to ball it up.  I stalked across the parched earth, trying to quiet my mind. 

                Why does this always happen to me? I fumed to myself.  Dammit!  I come out here for a little break and no, of course not, my conscience always decides to spoil the fun.  Why can’t I just be like Arnaud?  Be brilliant, sexy, and have absolutely nothing along the lines of morals? 

                I knew the source of my anger—it was those little subliminal bugs I had planted.  I didn’t know what to think of them.  On one hand, I liked them because they were so effective.  On the other, that was precisely what I didn’t like.  They were too effective.  They had immediately influenced the Keeper and had even affected me. 

I had been standing there, listening to the conversation between Fawkes and the Keeper, when I had gotten the strangest feeling that I was no longer alive!  It was extremely…odd…to feel yourself breathing, feel quicksilver wrapping your body like a second skin, to be thinking about the situation, and then get a gut feeling that you no longer exist.  Every sense is telling you you’re alive, but something tells you you’re dead.  Ugh. 

I felt a wave of impatience flash over me.  I cursed in irritation and took off at a sprint toward the distant mountains.  Did Arnaud truly comprehend the amount of power this could have over a person?  Probably.  I shook sweat out of my eyes.  This manipulation of minds like this did not sit well with me.  My fierce independence protested the idea of controlling one’s mind.  If our ruse worked and the Agency believed I was dead, that was just fine.  But why did we need to influence them like this?

God!  I just could not escape from myself!  I just could not totally give myself over to Arnaud; I could not become the female version of him.  I still had my code, a remnant of my past life…I forced myself faster, flying across the sand.

                My mind kept turning.  Those little devices had tremendous potential.  Arnaud must have used them sometime in the past; otherwise he wouldn’t know their effectiveness.  My mind went back to the mental manipulation.  What if…  I stopped my run, breathing hard, and looked back.  I couldn’t see my car, only the tenuous trail I had left.  That was fine with me. 

I pursued my thoughts.  What if Arnaud had used those bugs on me?  Was that really how he had managed to bring me over to his side?  Had he subliminally influenced me to be receptive to his cause?  I knew I was a mercenary person, but wasn’t my change of heart a bit much?  I narrowed my eyes.  Oh, Arnaud was going to have hell to pay in the near future. 

Or maybe my sins were finally coming back to me and I didn’t like what I saw.  Maybe I was looking for excuses for my black soul.  That was always possible. 

It was too damned hot out here in the naked desert.  I stared out over the desolation for a minute more, then turned around and walked slowly back to my car.

***

                “Glad to be back in the Alps?” Arnaud asked me conversationally.  He sat down at the table and spread the linen napkin over his lap.  I looked at him over my mug of tea.  “Mmm,” I answered noncommittally.  Arnaud eyed me.  “Well, I suppose I am glad to see that today finds us here, instead of locked up in a gulag somewhere.”  I examined my nails intently.

“Alright, what is it?” Arnaud asked me, cutting impatiently into his steak.  “You only get like this when something is on your mind.” 

                At that moment, Genevieve walked into the dining room.  I smiled falsely at her.  A long, green velvet skirt brushed around her legs and her auburn hair framed her face, accentuating those damnably haughty cheekbones of hers.  She sat down at the table with us and raised a fine eyebrow at the meal set out for her.  I sized her up.  Other than an almost imperceptible change in her expression, she seemed the same as when we had left her.  Then again, we’d only been gone for a week.  I watched as she pecked at her soup with her spoon, not eating, just pushing bits of chicken around in the broth. 

                “If you hadn’t noticed, Arnaud, I’m a bit sunburned.”  I chided him as his eyes wandered over Genevieve and focused intently on her. 

                “Ah yes, I’d wondered about that but hadn’t asked you.  What were you doing out in the desert?”  He leveled his glance at me. 

                “I was thinking.  About some rather nasty things.  But you knew I was in the desert; I called you.  Tsk-tsk,” I reproved. 

                “Soup.”  Genevieve distracted him.  She looked at him, lips pouting.  “The other one gets filet mignon, and I get…chicken. noodle. soup.” 

                “She is not the ‘other one,’ Vivi; you know her name.”  Arnaud scolded mildly.  “You get soup because it is good for you.  And it is what I want you to eat.  End of discussion.”  He waited for her to lower her eyes and begin to eat.  She submitted easily to his glance.

                “It’s amazing how well she obeys, Arnaud,” I began acidly.  “It must have something to do with those lovely little subliminal bugs.”  Genevieve dropped her spoon abruptly, broth spattering from the bowl.  She cast a sharp glance at me.  “What little bugs?” she demanded.

                “Ah, you understand English, then.”  I smiled, knowing I’d just caught her and she couldn’t do a thing to play it off.  “But anyhow, don’t you know?  Arnaud here likes to use subliminal devices to get you to do as he wants.”  My voice iced over. 

                “That’s not true!” Arnaud stood angrily up from his chair.  “I don’t know where you got that idea, but that’s insane!” 

                “Hah!” I barked a laugh.  “How would you know how effective those bugs are unless you’d tried them out?  And who better to use them on than Genevieve and me?  I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunities!”

                Genevieve gasped and looked wide-eyed at me, then Arnaud.  “How dare you?” Her voice was barely audible but I could sense burning anger there.  “What is the meaning of this?” she continued, dangerously quiet.

                “I’ll tell you.  It’s mind control.  Those little devices work damned well, that’s for sure.  Hell, they even half-convinced me that I was dead.”  I paced across the room. 

                “Subliminal devices don’t work that way,” Arnaud said sharply.  “They only reinforce ideas that are already there, through suggestion.  They can’t make you believe something that isn’t in your brain already, somewhere.”  He looked at me.  “That device shouldn’t have affected you.  The only reason I can think of is...”

                “What?” I quicksilvered my eyes, and Genevieve stared. 

                “Stop that,” he commanded, irritated.  “The only reason is that you already had your death on your mind.  The crash incident is one possible reason.  The other is that on some level of your consciousness, you’d been thinking of suicide.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “But that wouldn’t be it, would it?”

                “Oh, no!” Genevieve piped up.  “You mustn't kill yourself, Mademoiselle!”  I noticed she seemed more concerned about my prospected suicide than being controlled by a subliminal bug.       

Then I turned from her.  “Oh, give it up,” I told Arnaud.  “Maybe you used these things to get me over to your side more easily, hmm?  Ever think of that, Genevieve?  That maybe he’s been influencing you to stay here?”

                A frightened look came over Genevieve’s face.  “No, no,” she muttered something under her breath, then laughed mirthlessly.  “You wouldn’t stoop to that, Arnaud!” She clasped her hands on his arm and glanced wide-eyed from Arnaud to me. 

                “I wouldn’t,” he affirmed.  “May I remind you, I don’t need to.  Now, Andrea, be reasonable and listen.  These devices can only intensify ideas already in your consciousness, not plant new ones.”  He paused.  “You’ve always asked me to tell you the truth.  Well, now I am.  Listen to me.  I have not used these devices on you; I haven’t needed to.  You understood exactly what you were getting into with me, and you agreed wholeheartedly.  I am telling you the truth, Andrea, Vivi- I have never used subliminal devices to influence you.”

                I stopped and looked at him, my eyes still invisible.  They locked with his, and he stayed firm under my scrutiny.  “Alright,” I said finally, dropping the quicksilver.  “I believe you.  I have to.  But, I believe you anyway.  I suppose it was merely my conscience looking for an excuse for my dark self.  Well, now that I know what caused my little winter of malcontent, I can easily block that out.”  I cracked a smile at Arnaud, the little storm blowing over.

                “Very good,” Arnaud applauded me.  “So now, tell me what you learned from the mission, and then we can plan the next stage.”

                Genevieve broke in.  “Arnaud, what mission?  That is why you were gone for so long?  And you, Mademoiselle Kanovfara-” she turned to me.

                Arnaud coughed lightly and glanced at me.

                I took my cue.  “All in due time, birdie,” I told her.  “You will see.  I’m going to let you in on a little history-” I glanced at Arnaud, and he nodded, saying, “I usually wouldn’t concern you with this, Vivi, but this you should know.” 

I continued.  “Let me relate this to a Bible story, however heretical that may be.  Once upon a time, the world was Eden, and the forbidden fruit was invisibility.  Arnaud was on a research team in the States that picked that fruit when they created an Invisible Adam, one Darien Fawkes.  Well, Arnaud had plans for Fawkes, but Darien just wouldn’t be a good boy, and didn’t follow them.  So sexy here made me into the Invisible Eve.  Now Fawkes works for the US government and I work for an international terrorist.” 

Arnaud broke in.  “It’s a bit of a role-reversal, and quite amusing.  Now Fawkes is a white knight, fighting off the dark likes of Mademoiselle Kanovfara and me.  And Andrea is what the world has to stop.  It never will, because it has no idea what is coming.”

I spoke up.  “Arnaud’s work is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?  He has made me into the force of Fawkes’ destruction.”  My voice hardened.  “Don’t you see?  Fawkes and I are at war—he just doesn’t realize it.” 

Déchiré, je suis un homme partagé, déchiré, …mais ce n'est pas à moi qu'ça fait du mal…