Chapter 9 – The Body / Approach

July 9, 2000
T-minus 67 days

"No!"

I found myself awake, my thin sheets sticking to my sweating body. Breathless, I looked around the small room from my bed, trying to figure out what I had heard. I looked towards the window, covered by a blue curtain, and wondered if the voice had come from out there, or if it had been me. When nothing happened, I put my head in my hands and took a deep breath. I realized I still had the beads in my right hand, and when I unclenched it, I saw that deep divots had been impressed into my palm. A desk fan sent weak ripples through the thin linen around my legs and waist.

I was in Berlin, to make contact with Hermann Pauli again. I had escaped Perm, leaving Grigory's body for the wolves, but I knew there was something hidden inside Gehirn, something they would kill to hide. I had spent a few days recovering after the fight, sewing makeshift stitches onto my wounds. I had avoided the hospitals for fear of my hunters keeping an eye on them for me.

When I took the train back to Berlin from Moscow, I was struck by how familiar the Brandenburg countryside still was to me. Even without the Wall, without the Stasi and Volkspolizei, without the atmosphere of suffocating fear, I had to constantly stop myself from falling into my memories. They couldn't help anyone, least of all myself.

Sitting on the bed I coughed twice, and grimaced at the feeling in the back of my head, a low persistent rumble like static. Getting out of the bed and making my way to the bathroom, I splashed my face with somewhat cold water from the sink. I pulled on the metal chain hanging from the light, and let out a snort at the sight of myself. I looked bad. My cheeks were starting to sink in, my shoulder had an ugly red scar across it, and my entire body shook with the faintest of tremors every now and again. I had kept up shaving, but more out of a kind of ritualism than really caring for my appearance. But I was still holding on.

After I took a shower and left the bathroom, I checked the time – just after 7 in the morning. I turned on a small portable radio and dialed it to listen to the news as I stepped around take-out boxes and ashtrays on the floor. The news was fairly unremarkable, the only thing the station found important was to note that overnight there had been another spate of arson attacks, aimed at luxury cars. The commenters were unsure if they were politically motivated or not.

After getting dressed, I checked the wall safe again just to make sure what I needed was still there, then I looked through my various emails. Only two stood out – one from Agnes, and one anonymous. I checked Agnes' first:

This is Agnes, in case you couldn't tell from the address. I know it's been a long time, Dad, but I just wanted to say hi and ask how you were. I'm just a little worried about you, because a few days ago three government guys came by my place to ask me where you were. I told them I thought you were down in D.C., when the one in front told me you had left for Japan in March, and you haven't given any contact to anyone since then. I called Pieter and he said that he'd been approached by several men as well in Frankfurt, asking the same questions about you. I think you can imagine how he responded to them.

Dad, I know things have been rocky between us for the past few years, but please, please tell me what's going on. I'm really worried about you.

Love,
Agnes

That worried me. Someone knew that it was specifically me out there, looking into Seele, and they knew where my family was. I sat there for a few minutes, trying not to think about Agnes or Pieter getting caught up in my little war. But eventually I checked the other message, from an anonymous address:

Charles – stop this while you can. You can still walk away.

I deleted it after reading it twice. I couldn't run from this anymore. Not after Kaji's death, not after Grigory's. I had to see it to the end.

Closing the laptop, I picked up a small piece of white chalk, and left the cramped apartment I was in. The day was blistering, and under my clothes I already felt sweat begin to run down my back as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

Berlin felt so different from when I had last been there. Gone was the veil of fear, of invasion and war in the West, and of oppression and lack in the East. But what was there now? I looked up at the skyline, with its new towers meant to symbolize the new future of Germany. But what was it? What was this country, this continent aiming for?

I had those thoughts on my mind as I found myself a few hours later, having arrived near my target by subconscious autopilot. I was in a fine residential neighborhood, with expensive homes and new cars in the driveways. They were far different from the Plattenbauten I used to see everywhere. I checked the streets, and found the intersection I wanted. The roads surrounding me were overshadowed by old trees, providing necessary shade. I checked to make sure I couldn't see any incoming cars, and approached the nearby mailbox. My previous marking was nowhere to be seen.

Taking the piece of chalk, I drew a large and noticeable X on one side of the box, replicating what I had done the day before, and then another X on a second side. I looked at one house in particular, a little larger and a little flashier than its neighbors. He would see the message, and this time there would be no mistaking in his mind what it was.

With my message made, I left the area, taking a different route than before.

As I left, my mind drifted back towards Perm, and I tried to get my jumbled thoughts in order. Whoever had sent the goon squad had known someone would be interested in the archives of the GRU that night, and had known that it would be me. But how? If it had been Grigory who tipped them off, why didn't they speak in a language he knew? More importantly than that, Grigory had been even more surprised than I had at the attack. I could only rule him out. But who did that leave?

They knew my name, and they knew I would be in Russia. I pondered the possibilities. Could it have been Silvestre? But then, he had never been well-placed in my circles, and I wasn't sure how he would have been able to follow me. David? I hadn't heard anything from him in a long while, and he knew enough about my operations to be very dangerous, but I was stuck on the lack of motive. How would he be connected to Seele?

But beyond that, I just couldn't see David being the one hunting me down. And I was left, again, with more questions than answers.

July 10, 2000
T-minus 66 days

Another hot day, but I had spent most of it sitting on a park bench, waiting. Around me moved a younger crowd, mostly smiling, but without much feeling in them. As I read several papers over the course of a few hours, I took in the place around me – dogs barking, people laughing, and cars honking in the distance.

Around 4 in the afternoon I heard what I wanted. A nearby public telephone began ringing. Leisurely folding up my paper I set it on the bench and sedately walked over to the phone before picking up the receiver. I didn't have a chance to say a word when I heard the voice on the other end.

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he said. The man was barely keeping himself from screaming at me. On my end of the phone I smiled. He hadn't changed at all.

"Herr Hermann Pauli, it's been a while," I said, trying to sound more relaxed and confident than I actually felt. I was shooting in the dark with Pauli, but I had to try something to get further into Gehirn. But I couldn't let him know that.

The line was quiet for a moment. "V... Viktor? But ho-?"

"No need to worry about that now, Pauli. Meet me alone at Spandau Fortress. Tonight. 2 AM. Understand?" My left hand was shaking, and even balling it into a tight fist didn't stop it. If Pauli hung up, I was damn near out of luck, except for what I had in the safe. And I wanted to keep that hidden until I had to bring it up.

I could hear Pauli breathing, and the second before I was going to ask him again he spoke up. "Fine. 2 AM. I'll be near the main bridge." With that the line quickly cut out – he must have slammed his own down. I let out a breath, and lightly placed the phone back onto its post. I checked my watch, and decided I had some time to do a little more research. I wanted to know a little more about the younger Ikari.

July 11, 2000
T-minus 65 days

I learned one big thing about Yui Ikari before my meeting with Pauli – she was brilliant. A genius, even. Obtaining a Bachelor's Degree in Chemical Biology in 1993, then moving on to a Master's and Doctorate in Metaphysical Biology at Kyoto University under Kozo Fuyutsuki. All before she was 22 years old. I had looked at the abstracts of some of her public work, and the terminology was utterly beyond me. But there she was, working at the Institute for Artificial Evolution in Kyoto at 23 years old, one of the leading lights of Metaphysical Biology. I could only imagine what she was like, especially with her father in Seele. 'Sokolov' had heard her mentioned in conjunction with her father, which suggested she was at least aware of his activities, even if she wasn't a part of the organization herself. But it still left a blank spot as to why she was interested, or what she was even doing. She was a consummate academic, what in God's name did she have to do with whatever cover-up was happening in Antarctica?

I thought long and hard about Fuyutsuki's appearance again. Surrounding him were either Gehirn members or Seele interests. He couldn't be ignorant of the affiliations of his colleagues, could he? At first glance he looked like a normal faculty member of the University's Advanced Institute, but I couldn't believe that. I knew that he had to have a place somewhere, even if it wasn't clear.

But what makes a conspiracy? It was clear to me by then that Seele, even without members everywhere, was perfectly situated to advance their agenda – in the sciences, in the halls of the United Nations, and in financial markets – whatever that agenda was. What was down there in Antarctica? What was down there that would draw together so many different types of people? What did they want out of it?

Now that the night was in its fullness, the air was somewhat refreshing as I arrived at the fortress. A few small herds of clouds passed across the waxing moon. A few breezes pushed the branches of the park's trees together. As I approached the moat around the old citadel, I checked my watch. I was a few minutes late, but that was fine. It would keep Pauli nervous.

Passing by the scattered fake gas lamps and the worn monuments to forgotten battles, I saw a male figure on the bridge in front of me. I put my hand to my chest, feeling the manila folder containing my only hope if Pauli got obstinate.

I stepped onto the bridge, about 30 feet across, and saw the other figure move to watch me. It was dark, but I could tell it was Pauli as I got closer. The close-shaven dirty blond hair, the scar he made on his cheek to look more intimidating, and wide, worried eyes. They darted left & right, he scratched the back of his left hand obsessively, and his breathing was uneven. I resisted the urge to swallow as I leaned against the railing opposite Pauli

"Hermann," I began, "long time no see." I fished a cigarette carton out of my pocket and lit one, closing the lighter with a clear metallic ping. I offered Pauli one, but he didn't acknowledge it.

"I thought you were dead," Pauli said. He had a high voice, higher than one would expect, but he did an alright job of keeping his tone level.

"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," I replied. Pauli snorted.

"I wish you had, you know," he said, before spitting over his shoulder into the moat. "After you disappeared behind the Wall I thought I was a dead man."

"You seem to be doing quite well for yourself in spite of your fears."

"Fuck you," he shot back. "Using me to turn to the Russians, fuck you. I bet seeing the Wall open was a shock to you, Viktor. Did you think the Ossis and Russkies would fawn over all your information? I bet that turned out real well for you."

I stopped myself from shouting back at Pauli. If he wanted to think I had defected, I would let him, but it made getting his assistance even more difficult. He stared at me, angry and defiant. That was different from what I remembered of him, but if I had to I would beat him into submission. I was quiet as I tried to formulate my plan of attack. It made Pauli nervous.

"Say something, goddamn it," he said, his body jittery and tense. It almost made me smile that he was still so afraid of me. It made my life just that much easier.

And something clicked. It was all a front. The anger, the tension, it still came from one source – his fear of me. I could use that.

"You're going to help me," I said, "you're going to tell me everything you know about Gehirn, and you're going to get me inside of their laboratory."

Pauli gave a forced laugh. "Ok, now I know you're fucking crazy. Why the hell do you think I know anything about Gehirn, or why I would put my neck out for a traitor?"

I put an edge into my voice. "Because I know you, Hermann, and I know that the former lead operative in anti-industrial espionage in Berlin wouldn't let something so big sit in his own backyard without having some kind of an in on it."

Pauli had his hands balled tightly. "That's real deductive of you, but I'm still not going to help you."

"I think you will, after you see this," I said, pulling out the folder from my coat. I stretched it out to Pauli, who reached out tentatively before snatching it from me. He pulled open the top and pulled out the first photograph inside. He looked at it in the dim light for a few seconds.

This was it. The moment of truth. My breathing stopped, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my whole body felt tight like the string of a violin. It all came down to Pauli's reaction.

"W-what is this?" he said, fear creeping at the edge of his voice.

"It's a photograph, of you having a rendezvous with noted East German agent Klaus Tappen." Pauli looked straight in my eyes as I spoke. "No doubt you were discussing ways to undermine the security of the Federal Republic."

"This isn't real," he said quickly, "you're lying, these photos are fake, I didn't meet him!"

In my mind I breathed a sigh of relief. He was right, sadly enough. Not only was that photo faked, much of what was in that folder I had created back in 1988, when I wasn't sure I had enough to use to lean on Pauli. I hadn't needed it then, but finding the copies in one of my safes was a great boon.

"But that's not the only thing there, Pauli. In that folder is enough evidence to connect you to quite a few unsolved leaks." Pauli's face was drained of color, but I continued. "In fact, I think even an anonymous source giving information like this to the BND would be enough to have you find the inside of a prison cell, if you're lucky."

Pauli's eyes jumped from me to the contents of the folder – photos, transcripts of phone calls, financial transactions, some of it true, but most of it my own work. And as he quickly paged through what was in there, I could see the gears in his mind turning, trying to find a way out. But I knew Pauli. He had already made the decision to help me, he just needed my help to get there.

"This can't be real, it's all a lie. It has to be! I never met these people, I-I never made these deals," he looked up at me then, "no one will believe this, or believe you."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Pauli, how long have you been in this business? Since, what, '73?" I was walking on a tightrope, and I had to keep my role perfectly – as the same heartless bastard who had threatened Pauli into helping him 12 years ago. "I bet there are plenty of people who don't like you so much. And I can assure you that this would be a gold mine in anyone's hands. I'm not sure you want that."

"But... but if I prove it's wrong-"

"Then what!" I yelled back. "Your career - no, you - you'd be dead in the water after this got out. You think anyone would trust you? Would believe you? No, no no. Ohh, Pauli, your bosses, they'd throw you to the wolves if they felt it would protect them." I paused. "What's a better headline? 'DDR double agent arrested for crimes against the Republic' or 'Traitor to his country found dead mysteriously'? I feel like both have a certain flair to them that people long for nowadays."

"I have friends, you bastard," he replied quietly.

"Then you'll be left to rot in a worthless little cubicle for 20 years! And for the rest of your life there'll be the whispers behind you, just at the edge of your knowledge, and your friends will abandon you!" I shot back. I hadn't intended to yell, but I couldn't stop myself. I took two deep breaths to regain myself.

"Pauli," I said, carefully controlling my voice, "it's easier to listen to me, and you know it."

He was staring at his feet, quiet. The silence stretched on long enough that I began to worry. He was going to call my bluff, and ruin everything. All my time and effort had been wasted, I knew it. I had led a man to his death and it would all be for nothing.

"Don't..." Pauli started as he looked up at me, my entire body frozen at his words, "don't you feel sorry for everything you've done to me?"

I took a second to think about that.

"No," I lied.

His shoulders slumped, and I knew I had won. I was getting inside Gehirn.

July 24, 2000
T-minus 52 days

When I had gone to Pauli, I had expected a certain level of support on his end, even after coercing him into it. Man-hours, materiel, sources, those had been my expectation. But where I had been expecting our relationship to be something akin to pulling teeth, I was left speechless at what Pauli had gotten for me – walking into Gehirn in less than a month, when I had expected it to take weeks upon weeks of preparation.

I was disguised as one Jacques Pelletier, meant to be a representative of Seele to the Director. Pauli didn't know exactly what these representatives did, but only that they changed often, and most times unannounced. I was to act as if my arrival was a surprise inspection. My hope was to use the secrecy that clouded over these organizations to my advantage – and who in their right mind, really, would be so stupid as to try and impersonate a member of a global conspiracy?

The labs were 2 hours south of Berlin, and had been built in those heady days just after reunification when anyone with cash could own a decent sized piece of the former DDR. In the backseat of the limousine Pauli had acquired for me I thought over my invented background once more. Pelletier was a native of Alsace, thus explaining his fluency in both French and German. A history in NATO led to him being recruited by Seele.

The car passed by small farms and copses of trees. I let out a sigh as I looked at them out the window. This was one of the riskiest stunts I'd ever pulled, but it had such a potential for getting a hold of classified information that I had to take the opportunity. But I was more than nervous. I wondered whether it was a trap or not, if Pauli had really become so compliant as to send me directly into the lion's den without making sure the lion knew I was coming.

As I approached the labs, the sky grew cloudy. Unusual for a late July day.

One could see the labs themselves from a far distance – a small town of vast white warehouses, glass administrative buildings, and Brutalist labs. The entire complex sprawled over an area above 4 square miles, and over two and a half thousand men and women labored inside of it. It was huge, the beating heart of Gehirn's international operations.

Huge parking lots dotted the perimeter of the complex, but my driver took us to the central building, a glass ziggurat. The paths between the various areas and buildings had only a few walkers on them, something that surprised me. I had expected to see more, but it was still early in the morning.

The limousine pulled up in front of the headquarters, and through the tinted window I could see several men and women gathered about 20 feet from me, near the main entrance – two large revolving glass doors. I took a deep breath to try and calm my pounding heart.

The chauffeur exited the driver's seat and walked around the back to open my door. I stepped out onto the concrete walkway and drew myself up. I was dressed in a smart black jacket and pants, in a style reminiscent of the old Nehru jackets of my youth. I had dyed my hair completely white, and then did what I could to accentuate the lines on my face. I looked somewhat different from usual, but only if an observer didn't look carefully.

One man called out when I stood up from the car. "Ah, Inspecteur Pelletier!" he said as he walked up to me. He stuck out his hand. "C'est un plaisir," Director Ayanami said. His French was shaky, but I made a show of appreciating the effort.

"Pour moi aussi, Directeur," I said as I took his hand in mine and gave him a steady handshake. After that I bowed my head slightly to the brunette behind him, and acknowledging the rest of the party. "Thank you for the reception," I said, switching back to English, but keeping a slight French accent on my tongue.

"We are very happy to have you here," Ayanami responded, his English sounding almost as good as Kaji's once had. "I'd first like to introduce you to some of the department heads before we begin the tour." He pointed out the men & women in turn, but they were administrative – I didn't give them much thought. But the last one he introduced, a Naoko Akagi, was the head of the "Magi project." This was something new to me, and I filed the name in the back of my head as I was led into the building.

The central headquarters wasn't anything I hadn't seen before – polished stone floors, judicious use of burnished metal fixtures, and a sterile atmosphere. It could have been the lobby of Exxon, General Electric, Dow Chemicals, or a hundred other multinational organizations. As a group we made our way to the upper levels of the building, to the conference rooms and briefing halls, places that reminded me of the rooms in Langley, where policy and strategy was crafted away from any other eyes. After stepping out of an elevator on the top floor, I was greeted with more aides, who bowed politely at me.

Walking down the hall from them, we came across two large oak doors, with large bronze handles. Ayanami opened one for me, and I obliged him by entering. The room beyond it was dominated by a large, three-sided square table, with the far end of the room reserved for a speaking podium and a screen. Tinted windows on the right wall provided an empty view of the countryside. One seat had been prepared, the table in front of it covered in printouts, memos, and general information. I took my cue and sat there as the rest filed in before the door closed behind them, with Ayanami taking the podium.

He cleared his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are once again happy to host another one of our brothers-in-arms, Jacques Pelletier of the Committee for Human Instrumentality. If you would." I filed away that statement for later as I rose from my seat to polite applause, and sat down again. "Mr. Pelletier," Ayanami continued, "the agenda for the morning is to review some of the administrative policies we at Gehirn have been implementing lately."

I nodded, and we proceeded into a morass of trivia. Irrelevant presentations were made on a host of topics, which at times descended into the pedantic. I didn't think that even a genuine Seele member needed to know how many applicants Gehirn was getting per advertising-dollar.

The morning was spent with that gaggle of bureaucrats. I was repeatedly told of the successes various branches had met, the production quotas exceeded, the expanded clientele base, and of the ever-present need for greater funding. That was perhaps the main theme of those morning briefings – that Gehirn desperately required a larger budget to expand their projects, and they didn't seem to care where it came from. The only one who didn't speak was Akagi, who seemed to float through the meeting with blessed indifference. She was a pretty woman, I had to admit, even with the unflattering haircut, and the lines emanating from the corners of her eyes. But those eyes, when they crossed mine, held my attention, but I couldn't articulate why. But the moment passed, and the computer presentations continued.

The mindless minutiae gave me space to think about Ayanami. He, along with Akagi, looked like they had gone through this song and dance before and were sick of it. I thought about how he introduced Jacques – as a member of the Committee for Human Instrumentality. But did he know Jacques was supposed to be a Seele member? He had to know, considering his position. I couldn't do more than speculate.

Nearing noon, Ayanami called for a break in the presentations. "I think our dear Inspector has enough of the background," he said to his deputies, "and I think that's enough for this morning. Thank you all." The department heads made a quick exit, and I was left with Akagi and Ayanami. I let out a deep sigh when the door closed. Ayanami grinned at that, a more natural expression than what he had been showing earlier.

"My thoughts exactly," he said, "but imagine dealing with that every day." Akagi chuckled, a heavy sound, and I could tell she was a smoker from it.

"You have my condolences," I said, "but in every system there needs to be those who check every last detail."

Ayanami kept his smile, but my statement frosted the atmosphere. "Of course, of course," he said, "I suppose we wouldn't be able to get very far unless we triple-checked our work."

"You could call it the essence of the scientific method," Akagi said.

Ayanami stood up from his seat and stretched. Akagi and I took that as our cue and got up as well. "That may be," Ayanami spoke, "but there must also be the vision. Without the urge to look beyond the veil, to step over bounds laid in place by time or timidity, where would we be?" He spoke the words like he had rehearsed them many times for other people. "We must beware that those doing the checking have the same vision as the pathfinders."

Ayanami smiled at me with that, and I nodded my head in assent. "Life in the light, rather than the darkness;" I said, "I have always held it to be better."

"Should we stare at the sun, even if it blinds us?" Akagi's voice came from behind me. She sounded like she was joking, but I was feeling deathly serious. Are they toying with me?

I turned my head to her, and sure enough her face wore a smug smirk on it. "If one person goes blind so that everyone else may see..." I trailed off for a few seconds, desperately trying to think of what to say, "we should honor their sacrifice, and carry on their work."

Ayanami laughed loudly at that. I tensed, wondering if I said the right thing.

Eventually he stopped, and leaned on the conference table. "You're more correct than you know, Inspector." He nodded to Akagi, then looked back at me. "Come with us, we'll show you the real Gehirn."

Something in my chest loosened. Was that some sort of test? Give the right answer to the question? Did they think I would be so stupid as to give myself away through philosophical rhetoric? Well, whatever it was, I seemed to have passed.

I followed the two out the room and back down the pyramid until we went into the basement. There, in a maze of concrete halls and warning signs concerning trespassing, we came across a thin and tall steel door. Next to it was a small box, which Ayanami leaned toward.

He whispered something into it, and we were greeted with a congratulatory pinging sound, after which the door slid open. An extremely well-lit hall was through it, and I had to blink a few times to adjust my eyes to how bright it was. We three passed through the door, and I heard it quietly slide shut behind us. I was inside Gehirn.

"Welcome to the labs, Inspector," Ayanami said, "That's not the usual entrance, but sometimes you have to get through the complex when it's unfavorable out there. Now I believe the Integrated Systems wing shouldn't be too far from here, so we can start there."

As he was speaking a young woman had approached him from behind, but I hadn't been able to get a good look at her face. She spoke up: "Director?"

Ayanami turned around. "Ah! Yes, Mattie, good you're here." He stepped aside and turned to me. "Mattie, this is Inspector Pelletier; Pelletier, this is my special assistant, Mathilda."

I replied on cue, "It's a pleasure, miss-" until I got a good look at 'Mathilda'.

The woman in front of me was Elena Graf, in disguise, but recognizably her. She looked at me, and I could tell she knew it was me. My eyes widened in terror as I saw her's sharpen.

This was a goddamn trap.