按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
she walked away from him； stood staring at the book…lined shelves against an inner wall。 Her eyes drifted over titles that had no meaning for her； her vision was filled with her own quickened pulse。 Blood roared in her ears。
〃Why did you do that？〃 Ariel asked。
Without turning around。 Tori said； ''Don't e any closer。'' She knew that she had to stop this now； before she got herself into something she could not control。 This man had lied to her； he had known just what he was doing； taking her down into the tunnels under Buenos Aires。 The only thing left to discover was where he meant to lead her。
But all the while she could feel the heat building； a heat she felt all the way to her fingertips。 Stop it！ she admonished herself。 Concentrate on what must be done here。
She said； 〃Why do you live here； and not in Virginia？ Doesn't Slade require face…to…face briefings anymore？〃
For a long time there was no sound in the room； then she heard Ariel moving； and a moment later music drifted through the house。 Melissa Etheridge singing 〃Chrome Plated Heart。〃
He came up close behind her； said in her ear； ' 'How did you know I work for the Mall？〃
Tori closed her eyes。 〃It wasn't just one thing。 The Japanese who just happened to be in the tunnels。 You said of them； 'If they catch us； they'll kill us！' Then； just now； you said you'd rather work with the Japanese。 What would you know about the Japanese？ But the biggest mistake you made was in not showing sufficient surprise at what I did down there： finding our hiding place； killing the rat； keeping you from making a sound when they were still out there waiting for us。〃 At last she turned to face him。 〃I think it's about time you tell me what this is all about。〃
〃Later；〃 Ariel said。 〃When there's plenty of time。〃 his lips covered hers； and this time she knew she lacked the will to break away。
She felt him around her； his arms coiling； a great masculine figure； hard and strong； a sanctuary within the heavenly aerie he had created for himself。 And it was as if she had been dropped into me center of a whirlpool； in the grip of forces she could no longer hold in check。 She was out of control； she knew it； and still the exhilaration rose in her； blotting out everything but Ariel。
She crushed herself against him； feeling her nipples erect； feeling the long dormant liquid heaviness in her thighs and pelvis。 She trembled in his embrace； and he lifted her off her feet。
The taste of lust was in her mourn； the fire in her body given full reign； conscious thought driven away on the wings of her passion。
She was so hungry…not only her loins but her empty heart yearned to be filled again； to throb at the sight of a precious lover； to anticipate his love like the ing of night； and then to feel it gushing through her like a mountain stream at the first thaw of spring。
She wept as he kissed her breasts； her thighs； her wet sex。 She murmured endearments when she； in turn； took him in her mouth； feeling him growing； growing； the taste of him intoxicating。
She cried out when he entered her； her nails scoring his back as he slid all the way up her and she was filled to bursting； her heart thundering； her thighs lifting； enclosing him。 Their breaths mingled； he kissed her ears； her nose； the ers of her eyes where her flesh was as thin and soft as a baby's。 He inhaled the musk at the hollow of her throat； licked the swelling tops of her breasts。
And； oh； it was good。 Not only the pleasure they were creating together； but the letting go； like dancing in the rain or rushing naked into the sea。 Tori's heart sighed； contented； as she was buried breathlessly toward an ending； a thunder in her soul； the sun in her eyes； the rain of their sweat flying as they ground together； the sweet collision of flesh and emotion that only making love can produce。
Then he was gasping and heaving。 She felt him shudder； arch into her； and something touched her core。 Everything shattered； like walking into and through a mirror； arriving at a new reality； a plane of existence once only hinted at。
〃Oh； my God。 。 。 Ohhh！〃
She moved…when she could gather herself to stir again…to the beat of his heart as well as her own。 The feeling was so sweet； so intense； that she felt tears e again。 It was something to feel like a woman once more； soft and vulnerable。 It was so different from how she had been trained： she had been instructed to bee as hard as a man； so she had bee harder； she had been instructed to replace emotion with logic； so she had bee harder； she had been instructed to replace logic with instinct； so she had bee harder still； so immersed in her studies she had no time for personal considerations。 An economy of movement； speech； thought had overtaken her； defining her new life。
And everything else had withered within her。 She had seen this as good； a purging； an exorcism of the toxins that had embittered her previous life； that had driven her to Japan； to a land and a philosophy that was as far as she could get from what she had once been。 Up until this moment。
Now she saw the other side： how the forging of her spirit in the crucible of her extraordinary training had distanced herself from everything…the good as well as the bad…that had dwelt inside her。 And she was immensely grateful to Ariel Solares for giving her back that part of herself she knew she could not live without。
She wanted to make love again； now； before thought crept back through her drunk mind； but her bladder was bursting； and she staggered naked off the sofa； down the hallway； into the bathroom。
She was finished； splashing cold water on her face； when she heard the sound。 Or； perhaps； felt it would be more accurate。 Her first thought was that an earthquake had hit。 She lurched； grabbing onto the cool porcelain of the sink。 Ariel's toothbrush rattled in its holder and a bottle of cologne crashed to the tile floor。
But dimly Tori was aware of the aftermath of a percussion。 Alarm flooded through her。 She pulled open the door； leaped over the shards of glass； ran down the hall。
All her senses were alert。 The air was thick。 Plaster dust； smoke； and me smell of burning filled the air； choking her。 She smelled the acrid chemical by…products of plastique explosives。
〃Ariel？〃 she called。 Then more urgently； 〃Ariel！〃
She found him crouched on the other side of the room。 The sofa on which they had been making love but moments before was demolished； charred as if in a fire。 Its pieces had been thrown halfway across the floor。 The doors to the balcony had exploded outward； shards of glass glittered in the city light。 There was a hole in the wall behind where the doors had been； and the cruel San Francisco evening wind whipped the tattered drapes； impaling them on the iron…tipped Amazonian spears。
Tori threw herself down beside Ariel。 He was making hideous gasping sounds； he was covered in blood。 She tried to hold him； but he shrugged her away； and she saw that he was desperately trying to get to something。 his fingers scrabbled at a cabinet door。 He fumbled it open； then seemed to lose all energy。 his shoulders slumped heavily and his forehead rested against the carpet。
Tori turned him； stifled a scream。 There wasn't much left of his chest。 How he was still breathing； let alone able to open a cabinet； was beyond her。
Her mind refused to work。 It was as if she were stuck in tar。 What had happened？ How could this have taken place in the few moments she had been at the other end of the house？
Ariel Solares was dying； but he did not seem focused on that； he had more urgent business。 Still in her arms； he flopped like a landed fish until his right hand could reach into the cabinet。 He drew out a hardwood box。 It trembled in the grip of the spasm that racked him。
Then Ariel pressed the box into her hand。 his lips moved； his eyes searching hers； and Tori bent down。
〃What is it； Ariel？〃 she whispered。 〃Oh； my God； my God。〃
Because his mouth was suddenly filled with blood。 Bubbles formed at the corners of his lips as he drowned in his own fluids。
And there was nothing Tori could do but hold him； rocking him gently； looking down at him to let him know she was there； thinking of the last line of the Borges fragment he had quoted before。
Shortly before his death； he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the image of his own face。
BOOK ONE
THE SOFT CELL
Men of action are； after all； only
the instruments of men of thought。
AFTER HEINRICH HEINE
ONE
VIRGINIA COUNTRYSIDE/LOS ANGELES
〃She was meant to be canned…and she was canned。〃
' 'What you should say is that you canned her。''
〃Should？〃
〃Yes。 This is； essentially； what is operative here。〃
The two men…one younger； black…haired； hawk…nosed； with penetrating blue eyes； the other； older； lanky； stoop…shouldered； with an aureole of cotton…candy hair…paused along the blue…stone path laid out in concentric circles around an immaculately manicured formal English garden。
The late afternoon sun slid in and out of the elhis and alders； catching in its burnished glow a spray of hyacinth here； a twist of ancient vine there。 Just behind the men a large Tudor…style stone and half…timber manor house was snuggled in among rustling beech； sheared cypresses； and well…established magnolia。
〃I don't understand you；〃 the younger man said。 He was dressed in a white shirt open at the neck； the sleeves rolled up to expose his burly forearhis； and blue jeans； the bottohis of which were tucked neatly into blue Tony Lama lizard cowboy boots。 He wore a belt studded with silver Navajo conchos。
' 'You don't？'' The older man could have added 〃That's odd；'' but didn't。 He had the face of a born mander： powerful； shrewd； disarmingly gentle in its deceit。 Now； however； the fissures of time had scored his sunken cheeks； thinned his hair； unearthed the tic of a railing nerve。 Only the eyes retained the full cunning of his youth。 They were the eyes of the boy down the block who dared you to climb the tallest tree； to ride the back bumper of the local bus； and； maddeningly； disdained you whether or not you acceded to his dares。
''When I was somewhat younger than you are now；'' the older man said； 〃I spent a great deal of time with our cousins in London。'' He gestured at the cherry and hawthorn trees； the sea of crihison and lavender azalea bobbing beneath them。 〃That's where I discovered my love of gardens。〃
〃But not gardening。〃 Russell Slade； the younger man； could not keep the sardonic tone out of his voice。 〃The Brits love to tend their gardens。''
' 'And so they should。'' Bernard Godwin； the older man； nodded approvingly。 his summer…weight Henry Poole hunting jacket was as immaculate as his garden。 his sturdy John Lobb country shoes positively glittered in the sunlight。 〃When one has little space one can call one's own； it is only prudent to mind it as best one can。〃 Godwin swung abruptly around to face Slade；
their eyes locked。 It was essential； Slade knew； not to look away； for Godwin would take that as a sign of weakness。 〃But this is America； Russell； and here space is not a problem。 This land goes on almost forever。 The cowboys learned that the hard way a hundred years or more ago。 But the same holds true today。 That's our one absolute advantage over the English； the Europeans； the Japanese。''
〃What； our land？〃
〃Not the land； per se。 But； rather； how having land as a natural resource makes us act and react。 And it's our one true link with the Soviets。〃 Bernard Godwin never said Russians。 It was always Soviets…and there was a vast difference between the two terms。 The Russians were only one people who inhabited the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics along with the Lithuanians； Estonians； Latvians； the people of the Baltic Republics； the Georgians and the Armenians； the trans…Caucasians； the Ukrainians； not to mention the Moslem minorities； who were part of a whole other microuniverse。 Godwin had studied them all in depth。 So； of course； had Russell Slade； it was just that his conclusions differed from those of Godwin。 As long as the Soviet minorities were a collective thorn in Russia's side； so much the better； he believed。 Let the Russian government be distracted and drained by internal prob