Deception by John Altman

lips. He sipped his coffee; his Adam’s apple jumped.
    â€œYou might get a call from Chen,” he said then. “Chen’s getting cold feet.”
    Keyes nodded.
    â€œDon’t listen to him. All men have doubts. It’s only human to have doubts.”
    â€œI understand.” Keyes refrained from adding, I’m on your side, here. Can’t you see that ?
    â€œRemember the moon landing,” Greenwich said. “‘For one priceless moment, in the history of man, all the people of this earth are truly one.’ That’s what we’re aiming for, Jim.”
    â€œYou don’t have to tell me, Ed. I’m with you on this.”
    â€œWhen Chen calls, hear him out. Otherwise he might try to go over your head.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œAnd don’t forget who stayed on your side.”
    That seemed a fine note on which to end. Keyes nodded again, stood, and offered his hand. They shook. He moved outside, into the waiting Town Car.
    Greenwich wouldn’t be forgotten, he thought as they rumbled back down the gravel road; that was true. The man was all too concerned with getting due credit. Science for the sake of science sounded good on paper, but when it came down to it, Greenwich would insist that his contribution be recognized. Like Epstein, he didn’t have his feet on the ground. He had no appreciation for matters of security. And if he felt that his reward was not adequate for the services he had rendered, how would he react?
    Would he run, like Epstein? Would he try to find another sponsor besides the U.S. government?
    In time, Greenwich would be dealt with. In time, all the loose ends would be tied up. But first they needed to move on to Critical Achievement Three. And to do that, he needed Greenwich to repeat Epstein’s results.
    Soon , Keyes thought.
    Two minutes passed. The gravel turned to pavement; Keyes began to feel drowsy. The desert around them was uninterrupted, and lulling in its vastness.
    Once the ball gets rolling, on something like this, you can’t stop it.
    And they had picked up a fair amount of momentum, hadn’t they? He could envision the ball rolling—a ball of snow thundering down a hill, accreting more snow as it went, becoming heavier and unstoppable.
    Jeremy, he thought then, had possessed some dizzying momentum of his own.
    Jeremy had been forever in motion. When he had pedaled his bicycle into the driveway, he had managed a trick—dismounting without losing even an iota of his remarkable momentum. No matter how many times he had been chastised, he had kept on. In his mind’s eye, Keyes could see the trick as clearly as if he had seen it just yesterday. Jeremy slipping off the banana seat, barging toward the front door as the bicycle continued to roll into the carport, finally coming to rest against one wall. The bicycle never fell down. Why should Jeremy have stopped doing the trick, despite the scolding? The bicycle never fell down. It rolled neatly over the gravel and came gently to rest, propping itself against a wall as if by magic, and by then Jeremy was inside the house, finding a snack, moving toward the television or the computer, having maintained that remarkable momentum that had carried him through life at such high speeds …
    He was dozing.
    No, he was awake. He shifted in the seat. Up front, the driver was listening to quiet talk radio.
    He yawned. He wasn’t dozing. He wasn’t even sleepy.
    The radio droned.
    He slept.
    3.
    There was a message from Dietz.
    Keyes sat in his darkened office, dialing. Let it be good news , he thought. If it was good news—if they had found Epstein, and finally taken care of the man—then he would reward himself with a morning off. A heavy breakfast, followed by a nap. If it was good news, the diet could go to blazes. But if not …
    â€œDietz,” a voice said.
    â€œIt’s Jim Keyes,” Keyes said.
    Dietz hesitated—and Keyes knew