fingers continued to turn the knob.
The paper was still there, so everything had to be okay. Only it wasn't because . . . because . . .
Because the paper was turned the wrong way.
Someone had been there. Someone had gone inside, done whatever they wanted, and come back out. They had been careful. They had seen the little scrap of paper and put it back. Only not perfectly.
The doorknob clicked under Tom's hand, and the door cracked open. For the space of a heartbeat he stood there, staring into the darkness on the other side of the door.
Instantly the sleepiness and exhaustion he had felt since leaving Moscow vanished. Before his heart could beat a second time, he had started to turn away. Before a half second had passed, the suit bag had slipped from his left hand and he was at the top of the stairs.
The explosion came before he could take another
step. There was no noise because the force of the blast instantly
stunned his ears into silence
. It lifted him, stole his breath in white-hot heat, then flung him downward like a singed rag doll.
He hit the bottom of the steps, bounced, and was instantly forced against the wall by an inferno wind.
When it was over, Tom fell. He fell down into darkness. And silence.
And the smell of peaches
.
about tonight
Even Gaia had her limits.
SAM PUT HIS FINGER AGAINST THE
pawn and shoved it forward on its rank. "It wasn't like I did anything."
A Smart Boy
"Yah." A black knight jumped in from the side of the board to trample the unprotected piece.
"I mean, sure, I thought about someone else. I'll admit that." Sam pushed his bishop toward the center of the board.
The black queen slid up beside the bishop. "Der is nothing wrong with thinking."
Sam reached for his one remaining rook
, hesitated, then drew back the bishop instead. "Okay, maybe I even kissed someone else," he said. "But that's not nearly as bad as what she did. Not even close."
"Yah, of course." The knight jumped again, and the rook left the field.
Sam scanned his diminished army and frowned. He shoved another pawn toward the opposite ranks. "And the first chance she gets, the very first chance--"
The black queen swept forward. "Dat is checkmate."
"It is?" Sam blinked and looked across the board. Usually he had a good grasp of the board, but now the chess game seemed as remote as another planet. He had lost. Again. He unzipped his heavy coat, fumbled in his pockets, and came out with a ten.
Zolov reached across the board and took the bill from his hand. "Thank you," said the old man. He stared down his long nose and studied the bill carefully, as if expecting to find a forgery. After the personal inspection Zolov held the ten up in front of
two battered Power Rangers
that sat beside the chessboard. "What you think?" he said.
Apparently the little plastic people gave their approval. After a few moments Zolov crumpled the bill and shoved it into the depths of his old tweed coat.
Sam shook his head and stared off across the frozen park. "I don't know. I thought maybe Heather really was the one. Now she's completely lied to me, and Gaia doesn't care if I live or not, so--"
"Be good to Ceendy, you," Zolov said suddenly. The old man's face reddened, and he waved
an ancient, arthritic finger
at Sam. "I like dat girl."
"Cindy?" Sam leaned back in surprise. "You mean Gaia?"
Zolov's bushy eyebrows drew together. "Dat girl, you should be lucky to have her." The old Russian glared at Sam for a few seconds longer, then picked up his chess pieces and began to put them back into position for a new game. "She is not like the others."
Sam tried to think of something to say. He couldn't be sure--maybe Zolov was thinking of Gaia, maybe he was thinking of someone else entirely. Maybe he was
thinking of someone who had been gone for half a century. Zolov was never very clear on much. Except for chess. When it came to chess, Zolov was still as sharp as ever.
The Russian finished arranging the pieces and looked over at
The paper was still there, so everything had to be okay. Only it wasn't because . . . because . . .
Because the paper was turned the wrong way.
Someone had been there. Someone had gone inside, done whatever they wanted, and come back out. They had been careful. They had seen the little scrap of paper and put it back. Only not perfectly.
The doorknob clicked under Tom's hand, and the door cracked open. For the space of a heartbeat he stood there, staring into the darkness on the other side of the door.
Instantly the sleepiness and exhaustion he had felt since leaving Moscow vanished. Before his heart could beat a second time, he had started to turn away. Before a half second had passed, the suit bag had slipped from his left hand and he was at the top of the stairs.
The explosion came before he could take another
step. There was no noise because the force of the blast instantly
stunned his ears into silence
. It lifted him, stole his breath in white-hot heat, then flung him downward like a singed rag doll.
He hit the bottom of the steps, bounced, and was instantly forced against the wall by an inferno wind.
When it was over, Tom fell. He fell down into darkness. And silence.
And the smell of peaches
.
about tonight
Even Gaia had her limits.
SAM PUT HIS FINGER AGAINST THE
pawn and shoved it forward on its rank. "It wasn't like I did anything."
A Smart Boy
"Yah." A black knight jumped in from the side of the board to trample the unprotected piece.
"I mean, sure, I thought about someone else. I'll admit that." Sam pushed his bishop toward the center of the board.
The black queen slid up beside the bishop. "Der is nothing wrong with thinking."
Sam reached for his one remaining rook
, hesitated, then drew back the bishop instead. "Okay, maybe I even kissed someone else," he said. "But that's not nearly as bad as what she did. Not even close."
"Yah, of course." The knight jumped again, and the rook left the field.
Sam scanned his diminished army and frowned. He shoved another pawn toward the opposite ranks. "And the first chance she gets, the very first chance--"
The black queen swept forward. "Dat is checkmate."
"It is?" Sam blinked and looked across the board. Usually he had a good grasp of the board, but now the chess game seemed as remote as another planet. He had lost. Again. He unzipped his heavy coat, fumbled in his pockets, and came out with a ten.
Zolov reached across the board and took the bill from his hand. "Thank you," said the old man. He stared down his long nose and studied the bill carefully, as if expecting to find a forgery. After the personal inspection Zolov held the ten up in front of
two battered Power Rangers
that sat beside the chessboard. "What you think?" he said.
Apparently the little plastic people gave their approval. After a few moments Zolov crumpled the bill and shoved it into the depths of his old tweed coat.
Sam shook his head and stared off across the frozen park. "I don't know. I thought maybe Heather really was the one. Now she's completely lied to me, and Gaia doesn't care if I live or not, so--"
"Be good to Ceendy, you," Zolov said suddenly. The old man's face reddened, and he waved
an ancient, arthritic finger
at Sam. "I like dat girl."
"Cindy?" Sam leaned back in surprise. "You mean Gaia?"
Zolov's bushy eyebrows drew together. "Dat girl, you should be lucky to have her." The old Russian glared at Sam for a few seconds longer, then picked up his chess pieces and began to put them back into position for a new game. "She is not like the others."
Sam tried to think of something to say. He couldn't be sure--maybe Zolov was thinking of Gaia, maybe he was thinking of someone else entirely. Maybe he was
thinking of someone who had been gone for half a century. Zolov was never very clear on much. Except for chess. When it came to chess, Zolov was still as sharp as ever.
The Russian finished arranging the pieces and looked over at
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