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〃Dear God； he needs his father。〃
Pavel got up and left the room。
Irina's mother and Pavel were married some weeks later。 That event hardly helped matters with Yvgeny； who did not show up for the ceremony。 During the next months； Irina's mother spent more and more time at church； praying for her son。
Irina found Pavel to be kind but dull…witted。 He had no ambition； seemed unaware； in fact； that a world existed beyond the confines of Moscow。 Irina remembered him ing through the door each night； white with concrete dust。 She used to watch him at the kitchen sink while she was preparing his dinner； meticulously washing the flesh beneath his fingernails free of ground red brick。
His hands were so large they seemed swollen； and when she ran her fingers over his palms； they felt like slabs of wood。 He was invariably gentle with her； though he spoke very little； mumbling something unintelligible when she set his dinner before him。
Irina would watch him eat； longing for him to say something； or even look at her； but he seemed totally absorbed with eating； as if he would die if he did not cram every bit of food on his plate into his mouth as quickly as possible。
One night when Irina was alone with him； she chanced to pass the bedroom； and saw Pavel undressing through the partly open door。 He had his back to her； and as he raised his shirt over his head； she stifled a gasp。 The ridged muscles of his curved back were disfigured by the crisscrossing of many scars。 They were not new； but the cuts had been so deep that they never healed properly。
Hearing her； Pavel whirled around； stared hard。 Irina was terrified that he would be angry at her； but instead Pavel sat down on the end of the bed； held out his hand to her。
Irina walked hesitantly into the bedroom。 She saw her mother's wood and gilt icon on the wall over the headboard； the cheap prints of the Russian countryside her father had loved so dearly； the rocker that was always Babushka's when the family had lived outside Moscow。
Pavel took Irina's hand in his scarred callused ones。 〃Have I frightened you； koshka？ I am sorry。 I am not a handsome man。 I know I am lucky to have found your mother。 Most women would not look at me。 My first wife used to mock me； but I like to think she loved me nonetheless。〃 He frowned。 〃Do you understand this？ No； perhaps not。〃 He shrugged。 〃Well； it has nothing to do with the scars on my back； except that when my father used to beat me； he'd say； 'You beast； you monster！ You cannot be mine！ What nightmare did you e from！' 〃
〃Oh； how awful！〃 Irina had cried。
〃In a way it was；'' Pavel said softly。 ''But only in a way。 You see； I was happy to take my father's anger； because I knew that then he would leave my mother alone。 On the nights when he would e home drunk and couldn't find me； he'd start on my mother。 I can still hear her screams。 Oh； but they were terrible！ They would make me weep。 My brothers would huddle together in the far corner of our room； but I would go out into the hall because I had to help her。〃 Pavel's eyes were turned inward； and at last there was a spark in them。 〃One night I couldn't stand it anymore。 I ran into the kitchen； grabbed a carving knife and…〃
〃You killed him？〃 Irina's eyes were opened wide。
Pavel's eyes returned to the present； focusing on her。 〃No； no； koshka。 My father took the knife out of my hand and whipped me。 Oh； how it hurt； but I had stopped him from beating my mother； and that was a good feeling； I can't describe how good。''
〃What happened to them？〃
〃My parents？ My father died of a liver disease brought on by his drinking。 But that was three years after my mother had died。''
〃That time must have been bad。〃
〃Bad； yes。 Very bad。〃 Pavel looked at her； then impulsively hugged her to him。 ''But do not think of these evil things； koshka。 I am here to protect you and your mother。〃
Pavel had kept his promise for as long as he had lived。 But he； it seemed； like Irina's father； was in a hazardous profession。 He developed acute emphysema from the quantities of harsh dust he inhaled each day on the job。 By then Yvgeny was dead； and the family； spinning helplessly out of control； fell apart。 Irina's mother was not good at taking care of him…she was not even capable of taking care of her own children。
Irina stared now at the Church of the Archangel Gabriel； where her mother had taken her so often。 Abruptly； it； too； seemed alien； part of another time； another place； a sanctuary for another Irina； not this woman who stood here； at last breaking free of her memories； her rage at the helplessness of being a child； and far worse； a female child； set adrift in a world made for men。 All this emotional baggage seemed removed； a distant report like thunder booming far off； diminishing with each moment。
White Star。
Irina turned back into the apartment。 Somewhere in here； she thought； there must be some hint of the information Valeri held on the nationalist group。 She crept carefully through every inch of his closets； looking in the pockets of his trousers and suit jackets； opening unmarked boxes； sifting through piles of linen； old photographs。 At his desk she leafed through official papers； personal correspondence； blank paper。
Her exposure to the films of James Bond…a favorite of the students she knew…while she was in America had taught her to look behind pictures hung on the walls； inside the medicine cabinet in the bathroom。 In the living room she unzipped slipcovers； got down on all fours； running her hand around the bottom part of the furniture frames。
She ended up in the kitchen； peering inside metal canisters of flour； sugar； and tea to make sure there wasn't some bit of paper secreted there。 All her sleuthing came to nothing。
She sat wearily down in a dinette chair； stared blankly at the dark screen of the Toshiba lap…top。 An hour and a half of bing through Valeri's apartment； and nothing to show for it。
Sitting here； alone； reminded her of all the mornings she had sat in this very spot watching Valeri prepare wonderful breakfasts。 In the winter it was always warm in here； as it had been in Babushka's kitchen； the mouthwatering smells irresistible。 It was difficult if not impossible for Irina to reconcile this image of Valeri…and the one of the man so tender and loving in bed… with the knowledge that Valeri was a colonel in the KGB。 She recalled his saying that the KGB's new accountability to the Congress of Peoples' Deputies had changed nothing； it had merely swept KGB operatives further underground。 She shuddered。
The puter screen； witness to everything； repository of all truths； sat silent and dead； mocking her。
All of a sudden she recalled an American film called Charade she had seen in the small Cambridge art theater； and she began to look for anything in plain sight that would be so familiar the eye would automatically pass over it。
Then her eyes focused； and jumping up； Irina whispered； 〃My God； it has been visible all the time！''
She turned on the Toshiba。 She was familiar with the software Valeri had had installed。 Quickly she got a list of the directories on the hard disk； but nothing looked sinister。 In fact； all that came up were recipe files。 She looked for Macros…〃hidden〃 strings of mands activated by a double keystroke…but could find none。 Her excitement faded。 Well； naturally； she thought sourly； this isn't a movie。 Of course； Valeri could have the White Star material secreted on a hidden floppy disk； but she had been all through the apartment without turning up anything。
Then a fragment of a recent conversation surfaced。 How do you find time to get all those recipes in memory？ she had asked Valeri。 And he had replied； I get some help。 There's a ghost in the machine。
Irina approached the puter again； and this time pressed the Reveal Codes key。 Nothing。 She frowned。 She had been so sure that Valeri's 〃ghost〃 would have been in Reveal Codes； an 〃invisible〃 mark held in the text。
Text！
What an idiot I am； she thought。 She cleared the screen； retrieved the first text file in the directory。 A menu for 〃Southern Fried Chicken〃 came up。 Irina hit the Reveal Codes； and there it was； hanging at the very top of the screen： three consecutive signs for Underline that had no business being there。
She went back to the text。 Then； holding her breath； she hit the Underline key three times in succession。 Nothing。 Damn！ Now what？ Those three Underlines must mean something。
She returned to the Reveal Codes screen； hit the Underline key three times。 The 〃Please Wait〃 message appeared in the lower left…hand corner of the screen。 That meant the puter was pulling an unusually large file out of the hard…drive memory。 Irina's heart skipped a beat。
A moment later the puter began to spew out an enormous list of food menus。 The file kept scrolling until Irina hit the Scroll Lock key。 Then the screen held steady。
Irina studied the menu but could find nothing amiss with it。 It was what it appeared to be： a menu for some kind of frozen dessert。 In disgust； she depressed the Scroll Lock key。 But instead of continuing to scroll； the screen went black and again the message 〃Please Wait〃 appeared。
Times； dates； places； names。 When the new text came up on the screen； Irina's heart leaped in her chest because she was looking at what appeared to be the inner workings of White Star。
〃With Hitasura's men all over the city looking for us； I can't afford a face…to…face rendezvous；〃 Big Ezoe had said early that morning。 〃There is a way to get information from my informants。 It's safe and utterly undetectable。〃
Koi was in Shibuya。 It was just after eleven at night。 Still； she was surrounded by such masses of people that she could not see the street。 The sky was a yellow…gray； the air as opaque as miso soup； and it came as no surprise when the electronic pollution billboard near the NHK Building…one of fifteen in Tokyo…monitoring the levels of carbon monoxide； nitrogen； and sulphur oxides； began to issue an alert； advising children； the elderly； and the infirm to stay indoors。
〃I refuse to sit in my office or in my car； waiting for a Hitasura hit team to blow me apart；〃 Big Ezoe had said。 〃Hitasura is not so old…fashioned that he will kill me only with his own sword。 That's for the old days； and the old days are alive only on movie screens。〃
Not his sword； Koi thought。 His gun。 What a world； she thought。 If honor was dead； what use was living？
Outside the Seed Building； Koi stopped at the public message center。 This was her third pass since she had e here by a circuitous route。 She had doubled back many times； using the subways and the crowds in the streets to keep herself free of the hit team Hitasura had sent after her。
The public message center consisted of six CTR monitors connected to a sophisticated interactive puter program。 Using an electronic pen； she touched the box marked READ。 The screen changed； showing a list of four functions。 She touched number 2； which read： MESSAGE TO YOUR FRIENDS WITH SECRET WORD。 The screen asked her to enter the code word。 On each pass before this； nothing had happened。 She wrote KAMI with the electronic pen； the code word Big Ezoe had told her about； and the screen changed once again。 This time a handwritten message appeared。 It said： 〃Deke； the tattooer。 Shinjuku。〃
Koi immediately touched the Eraser bar； and the message disappeared into the electronic heart of the machine。 A moment later Koi； too； disappeared…into the electronic heart of the city。
* * *
''The first thing I want to ask you；〃 the Него said when Irina slipped into the pool with him； ''is whether Volkov is with you。'' He had taken her out to the middle of the pool where the listening devices could not pick up their speech。
〃I came alone this time；〃 Irina said； staring at him。
''Do you know where Volkov is？ 〃
〃No。 He doesn't tell me everything。〃
The Него looked at her curiously for some time。
''What is it？'' Irina said； unfortable beneath the intensity of that otherworldy gaze。
''I am wondering what you see in him。''
〃In Mars？〃
〃Yes。〃
Irina noticed that Arbat was restless； but she swam back and forth at the other end of the pool； as if she had no intention of ing near them。
〃I said that I wouldn't lie to