James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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IV – Plans and Schemes"Show him in," Lillith purred, directing the nine-year old girl that served as her handmaiden. "Then go down the hall and wait at your desk by the outer door," she instructed. "No one else is to join us. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Matron," the girl answered, fixing her gaze on the floor, never looking at Lillith or the woman that was with her, seated in a corner next to the lit fireplace. The child departed and Lillith turned to her guest, planning to use the few moments of privacy they were provided.
"Remember not to speak until you're spoken to," Lillith reminded her. "I will not be interrupted."
"Of course, Matron," the woman answered, nervously smoothing the pleats in her long black skirt as she crossed and uncrossed her feet, obviously struggling to find a seemingly relaxed, casual appearance that belied the truth. Like the child had, she also avoided any eye contact with Lillith.
"He may be uncouth enough to direct some questions toward you," Lillith added. "If he does so, make certain you look to me for permission to answer. There are some things we may not want him to know. Full disclosure will not serve our purposes here."
"Of course, Matron," the woman repeated.
"And make certain you never make a move to leave," Lillith added absently. "I would speak with you when this meeting is concluded."
"Of course, Matron," the woman said again, not varying her tone in the least from her earlier statements of acquiescence. To Lillith's ears the woman seemed a parrot, endlessly repeating back the few words she had learned. But then again, that's certainly not the case with this one, she reminded herself. She's one of our best and brightest. She'll do her job well.
There was a soft, almost imperceptible knock at the thick, darkly stained and intricately carved cherry door. "Enter," Lillith muttered, knowing the small child's hearing would be good enough to detect her invitation from outside. The door slowly opened, swinging noiselessly on its ornate iron hinges. A lone man entered, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the details. Lillith allowed him this luxury, knowing that doing so would only aid her cause. The room had been specifically designed to be as intimidating as the woman that used it. Constructed in a long oval, with the door at the far end from Lillith's desk, it was lit primarily lit by the fireplace, built off-center behind Lillith's right shoulder. Guests began by sitting in a brightly-lit waiting room that then led into a short, pitch-black hallway that served as a foyer for the study. Entering the office, a visitor's first view of Lillith was as a dark, vaguely perceptible silhouette outlined by the dancing red and orange light of the flames within the fireplace.
The floors were made of darkly stained wood, which contrasted sharply with the narrow, bright red rug that led directly from the doorway to the front of Lillith's desk. As the man stepped into the room, his feet fell on a nightingale board, an addition inspired by Japanese daimyo that had them installed in their castles to better defend against intruding ninja. With every step forward, the floor beneath the man let out a sharp whistle that seemed to make him more self-conscious with every stride. By the time he sat down in the large, leather-upholstered chair in which Lillith directed him to sit, the man was shifting uncomfortably, directing his eyes from side to side, avoiding meeting Lillith's gaze while also obviously attempting to seem defiantly comfortable in his surroundings.
"Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Blue," Lillith said evenly, addressing the man by the code name which her contacts had arranged for him. She briefly considered addressing her guest by his real name, to see how he would react, but decided against that tactic. He seemed uncomfortable enough already, and there was little point in risking the possibility of offending him with the knowledge that Lillith's associates had violated the anonymous trust of the meeting.
"Hello, Ms. Red," Blue commented, addressing Lillith. "And who is your associate?"
"This is Ms. Black," Lillith commented with an absent wave toward the woman sitting to her right, clearly conveying that the second woman was of little importance. "She has some information that may be pertinent later on. As she is an expert in this particular field, and I am not, I took the liberty of inviting her to join us. If her presence is a problem, I would be happy to ask her to leave."
"Of course not," Mr. Blue said smoothly, leaning back slightly as he finally dared to lock gazes with Lillith. No sooner had he done so than he diverted his eyes away again, seeming no more comfortable with the look in her eyes than many others had been over the years.
"Could I offer you some wine?" Lillith offered, gesturing to a large crystal carafe that sat at the corner of her desk. In the dim light, the red wine within seemed as dark as blood, and Lillith could only guess whether the stories her guest had no doubt heard about her were making him wonder if the 'wine' was, in fact, the very liquid it appeared to be. Mr. Blue shook his head almost imperceptibly to decline the offer, and Lillith took a moment to look him over more closely. His complexion was dark, as she had expected from a man that had spent his life in the desert, and his dark hair and deep brown eyes displayed his Semitic heritage. He wore an expensive charcoal gray suit that Lillith could tell was Italian, likely tailored in Rome, though she couldn't place the designer. In all, he was exactly what she had expected.
"Well then, I suppose we should dispense with our business," Lillith commented.
"Absolutely," Mr. Blue concurred. "I need only know what your price is."
"My price?" Lillith asked innocently, as if it was beneath her to partake in the trafficking of information. "Since when has our relationship devolved to the base level of buyer and seller? I was under the impression that your associates and mine are the best of friends."
"Be that as it may, my superiors are concerned about confusing business and friendship," Mr. Blue replied with a thin smile on his face, seemingly oblivious to the possibility that his words could have offended his hostess. "We appreciate all you have done for us in the past, but recent circumstances being as they are, we would prefer to keep this particular exchange of information clearly in the realm of business."
"I understand completely," Lillith said with a satisfied smile. So much the better, she thought happily. She would gain some kind of payment for her people, and still easily retain the gratitude of Mr. Blue's masters. "There are some ruins outside of Hebron," Lillith said evenly. "My associates are interested in excavating these ruins and removing certain artifacts that may, God willing, still be present after all these long years."
"Arrangements will be made," Mr. Blue assured her. "Is that all?"
"That's enough," Lillith replied, satisfied that her peoples' archaeologists might finally be able to lay their hands on the remains of Jepthah, one of the breeding program's patriarchs.
"Then what can you tell me?" Mr. Blue inquired.
"The plague that hit certain isolated areas in the Jordan River valley appears to be natural, though its unheard of deadliness leads our researchers to believe that it is actually man-made," Lillith responded.
"Our own scientists have already concluded as much."
"What you may not know is that the pathogen itself is, for all intents and purposes, identical to a certain biological agent that some of our people were able to smuggle out of a lab in the ruins of Tehran two years ago," Lillith added. "Ms. Black can give you data on that agent if you desire. She may even be able to provide samples if you can guarantee their safety." Mr. Blue looked at Ms. Black, who brushed her dark brown bangs out of her ice blue eyes, smiling thinly in response before uncrossing and re-crossing her feet once more.
"I think appropriate preparations can be made," Mr. Blue assured her. "And this reported antigen that has apparently been developed by this country's transgenics may be of some help."
"That's our hope, also," Lillith agreed, stuffing her fury deep down, making certain she didn't betray her true feelings regarding the transgenics. "We were able to examine a sample of this transgenic antigen, and all preliminary tests indicate that it is, indeed, effective in treating this plague that your enemies appear to have designed."
"Not only designed," Mr. Blue snarled, for the first time displaying a reaction other than cool self-control. "The heathens actually tested their germ on my people. Thousands are dead, and they hoped to conceal their tests by using it in the areas surrounding the ruins of Haifa. As if my people would be stupid enough to believe that this plague could have been the result of nuclear fallout."
"Perhaps they didn't expect you to overlook the truth at all," Lillith suggested, her voice suddenly rich with concern. "One of my superiors theorizes that al-Quryash may be planning to strike at you, that he only hoped you would miss hitting upon the truth until it was too late."
"Meaning he's going to attack," Mr. Blue concluded.
"Perhaps," Lillith said, pleased that her guest had drawn the desired conclusion without her having to lay it all out for him. "This plague may only be one of many that they've developed. As strong as it is, it may not be the most potent agent that they've been able to create."
"Some in our government have expressed the same fear," Mr. Blue confided. "They've even gone as far as to suggest that we launch a preemptive attack to prevent another outbreak of disease."
"Or further nuclear devastation," Lillith chimed in. "It's likely that they've replenished their nuclear weapons by now."
"That is another concern," Mr. Blue admitted. "But after the devastation of the last war, there are many that would prefer we never strike first again, even if holding back eventually resulted in our destruction."
"Sacrifice yourselves to ensure the survival of everyone else?" Lillith asked with amusement, wondering at the sudden disappearance of the eye-for-an-eye mentality that she had always enjoyed in Mr. Blue's culture. "That's quite noble, but ultimately defeatist."
"I agree," Mr. Blue commented. "But be that as it may, I've been asked to inquire as to whether there's anything you can offer us."
"I don't follow," Lillith responded, hiding her glee at Mr. Blue's question. She wanted him to have to ask for something specifically. Future favors were rarely gained by freely offering assistance.
"Your associates have done substantial research in this area," Mr. Blue replied. "Let's be frank, Ms. Red. My nation was almost completely wiped out in the War of '13. It has taken almost all of our resources just to keep our people fed and build up a conventional military capable of defending against the most likely forms of attack. There's been virtually no research done regarding weapons of mass destruction. We have only three scientists in our whole country who are able to do any kind of significant research in this area, and they're forced to work with equipment that was obsolete years ago. Your people, however, have the expertise and the resources to have developed some rather nasty pathogens."
"Our interest is in prevention," Lillith said smoothly.
"Your interest is in maintaining the status quo at all costs," Mr. Blue retorted. "You and yours enjoy positions of great influence. Major changes in the global balance of power could upset your standing, as The Pulse almost did not too long ago."
"I think you'd find my people are still well off," Lillith said, pleased that Mr. Blue, and perhaps his associates, still appeared to believe that she represented a global conglomerate that dabbled in everything from commodities trading, to genetic engineering, to biological warfare technology, to mass media outlets. They were taken to be the people that built and destroyed governments on a whim, who could make or break politicians' careers, and who could start wars at the drop of a hat. And of course, that's all absolutely true, Lillith thought happily. It's only the details concerning our true nature that have thus far eluded all those that know of us, and deal with us.
"Your people have something mine could use," Mr. Blue admitted. "We would like your assistance. My nation has been in existence for decades, and we have always done business with you. We would hate to lose a relationship that has been so profitable for both sides."
"Of course," Lillith cooed. "My superiors feel exactly the same. We will provide you with samples of the agent we recovered in Tehran, as well as some data that some of our people have put together concerning theorized development in your enemies' programs. That should, at the very least, give you some idea of what to expect if they try releasing one of their experimental plagues in your territory once again."
"And more importantly, it will give us a chance to come up with a cure," Mr. Blue said hopefully.
"We can only hope as much," Lillith replied, mustering as much sincerity and concern as she possibly could, hoping that she seemed believable. She had no idea whether she succeeded in displaying a sentiment that was so foreign to her experience. From the look on Mr. Blue's face, though, he was buying the story hook, line, and sinker. "These weapons are not like anything that's come before," she added, deciding that laying her presentation on a little more thickly wouldn't hurt anything. "The fallout from your last war was bad enough, but the result of bio-warfare could mean the end of life on a global scale. For obvious reasons, my people will cooperate in any way possible to help you counter this threat."
"And if we asked for some of the more potent samples you've been able to develop over the years?" Mr. Blue asked.
"I assume you mean to use these biological weapons only as a means of deterrence and in development of viable treatment alternatives," Lillith responded, continuing to concentrate on exhibiting concern in her voice. It was hard to do when every fiber of her being screamed for her to encourage her guest to convince his superiors to actually use these weapons.
"Deterrence is our goal, but if it doesn't work…"
"I understand," Lillith assured him. "You will not go gentle into that dark night. I admire your strength of will, but this is not a mere trifle you ask of me. This is a gravely serious issue, Mr. Blue, and I'm not sure I can be of assistance in this matter. Sharing R&D data is one thing, but handing over advanced bio-weaponry to a nation that has already been irresponsible enough to deploy nuclear weapons in modern warfare is something else entirely." Yes, make him work for it, she reminded herself. If we're too willing to give him what he wants, he'll have to wonder why.
"This is not something we take lightly," Mr. Blue said evenly, his tone making Lillith wonder if he was trying harder to convince her or himself. "We would consider this a great service. It's not something we would ever forget."
"Of course not," Lillith replied, "but you gave me the impression that this was a business meeting. Am I now suddenly to understand that we're speaking once more as friends?"
"If you please," Mr. Blue said awkwardly, just as Lillith had hoped.
"Then as a friend, let me assure you that I will take this proposal to my superiors," she told him. "Just know that this is not a service we would generally consider undertaking for just anyone. Though of course, there will be a price."
"Of course," Mr. Blue muttered. "Thank you, Ms Red," Mr. Blue added with a genuine smile, rising from his seat and extending his hand to Lillith. "It's been a pleasure."
"Of course," Lillith responded pleasantly. "You're staying at the Royal Arms, yes?"
"Yes."
"Ms. Black will personally deliver the information your people have requested," Lillith assured him, noting with pleasure the thin smile of anticipation that spread on Mr. Blue's lips when he looked over Ms. Black's alluring figure once again. Yes, she'll do her job very well, Lillith decided again. "I will consult with my superiors regarding your other request. I trust that you will also make arrangements with Ms. Black to receive delivery of the more… fragile samples, should we decide to make them available to you."
"I understand," Mr. Blue assured them.
Lillith waited impassively for her guest to leave, the nightingale boards whistling with his every step, singing him along on his way. Once he'd closed the door behind him, Lillith turned once more to Ms. Black. "Now you're certain that you have a working vaccine, correct?"
"Yes," Ms. Black assured her, "but as I told you, we'll need time to culture it to make certain all of our people can be treated before any of the germs are actually deployed."
"And our friends, of course, will need time to develop their own cultures," Lillith pointed out. "The virus you give them will not be usable in its current volume, correct?"
"Not entirely," Ms. Black replied nervously. "It's usable, but certainly not as effective as it could be at higher concentrations. As long as we have none of our own people in the region, our ranks should be free of any losses that may otherwise result from carelessness on the part of our friends. I just would have preferred if we'd held off on this move until we had all of our people treated. This is cutting it very close."
"Those decisions are not up to you," Lillith reminded her young guest. "The transgenics have proven to be more of an irritant than many had expected… though I still believe they are not quite the threat the Small Ones claim they are." The Small Ones, she thought, turning the words over in her mind. The name fits – they really don't see the big picture. But then again, are we overlooking a detail that might prove to be rather important?
"I'll simply increase my efforts," the young woman assured her superior.
"Make certain you do," Lillith said. "Even as we speak, one of our associates is meeting with a representative of al-Quryash, convincing him that the plague outside Megiddo is the result of Israeli biological weapons development that suffered from a lack of containment," Lillith told Ms. Black. "The Arabs will be furious at the fictional Israeli program, and they'll believe what we tell them is true, since the Israelis obviously need some kind of weapon of mass destruction to defend themselves against their Arab enemies, who are so superior in numbers."
"The United Arab Republic will wish to defend itself against this threat," Ms. Black concluded.
"Of course," Lillith agreed. "And we'll give them samples of our pathogen, claiming we captured it in a lab outside Haifa. Then, as we did here with the Israelis, we'll provide the Arabs with a bio-warfare agent they can use on their enemies."
"A second, different agent," Ms. Black guessed.
"Yes," Lillith confirmed. "The Israelis will get the agent based on smallpox. The Arabs will get the one based on the pneumatic plague. We'll send in a team to incite the outbreak of a conventional war, and once both sides react militarily and build up along their borders, we'll release our own mutated strain of Ebola on the gathered forces. Each side will conclude, of course, that the other is responsible for the release of the bio-agent."
"They'll destroy each other, and the rest of humanity, all by themselves," Ms. Black concluded.
"And we'll hardly have to lift a finger," Lillith said. "Now you see the importance of getting back to the lab," she said to the young woman. "We're about to make use of your engineered agents, Doctor. I expect you to have inoculated all of our people by the time your weapons are deployed."
"Of course, matron," Ms. Black said as she stood and left.
Such a simple plan, Lillith thought with satisfaction as she turned and looked deep into the flames within her fireplace. All we need to do is keep it a secret until the ordinaries do all the dirty work themselves. She grinned with satisfaction at the ease with which the Familiars were able to manipulate the ordinaries. They're all so suspicious of each other, she thought happily. They're all so willing to destroy each other, even at the cost of their own lives. It's no wonder we're to inherit the world. Her eyes darkened, then, as she conjured up images of the transgenics and the failure at Megiddo. It must not happen again, she decided. Ames White and those of like mind with him may be overreacting to the transgenic 'threat,' but they may serve those of us that understand our destiny. She pushed the intercom button on her desk and cleared her throat.
"Yes, matron?" the young girl asked from her desk down the hall.
"Contact Ames White," Lillith instructed. "Request that he meet with me at his earliest convenience."
"Of course, matron," the girl replied.
Ames White's concerns may be as unnecessary as a doorbell on a crypt, but he may yet be of some use, Lillith decided. It never hurts to create a diversion. And while the transgenics are busy trifling with White, they'll completely overlook what the rest of us are up to. The only question that remains is how to best motivate young Agent White… A smile came to Lillith's face as she arrived at an obvious answer. He's a Small One, like a child, she reminded herself. And like all children, he'll be best motivated to do something by forbidding him from doing it.
To be continued……………………………