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August Prompt: Fantasies and Fables
Aug. 25th, 2007 12:26 pmLove is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables. - Sappho
"So Irina is alive," I said to Elena Derevko, pretending only mild interest.
"As if I would let my little sister be killed by someone else," Elena scoffed, black eyes gleaming with delight. "She's a Derevko, and neither her fool of a husband nor yourself would be worthy. I'll do it myself."
Those few days I spent with the oldest of the Derevko sisters were among the least agreeable and yet most interesting of my life. She had only been a name before, competition in a race I had made myself abandon; as Sofia Vargas, she had been a lie. But here she was, one of the few people who could claim a knowledge of Rambaldi almost close to mine, if not the same understanding; the woman who had raised my daughter.
I despised her, of course. Because she was using a perversion of my own plans, because she had made it necessary for me to let Nadia believe I had betrayed her, because she had, as a matter of fact, betrayed Nadia, oh, and because she had used a man impersonating me who was responsible for some of the more painful hours of my life. Now there was also the new discovery she had set up Jack to kill who he believed to be Irina, and had held Irina under lock and key the entire time. If there is a Derevko making of fool of both Jack and myself, I would rather have it to be Irina, you know; I might never have been in love with Irina, but I... well, let us just say we understood each other. Her sister, on the other hand, thought she understood me and that I could not possibly be in the same position, which grated.
Most of all, though, I despised Elena Derevko because she was whole in a way I never had been, nor ever would be. There were never second thoughts to her, no regrets. She might not understand the true grandeur of Rambaldi's imagination, believing it to be a simple tool for world domination, but once she had committed to making his inventions her own, she never let anything stop her. It was like looking in a mirror, much as my confrontation with her puppet Ned had been, and seeing what others saw when they looked at me. Of course I despised her.
I am sure the feeling was mutual. Naturally, she did not trust me, no matter how much she respected my knowledge. She did not have time to do to me as she had done to Irina to make sure I was telling her the truth. So she came up with a way of tormenting me which was, I must admit, breathtakingly brilliant. After I had found out Irina was still alive, and that the Irina Jack had killed had been a product of Project Helix - some people would call this the elegance of nemesis, no doubt, given how both myself and Irina had profited from said Project not too long ago - I could not help but wonder at the magnitude of the deception. You see, I was sure that Jack would not have done the expedient think and simply killed Irina once he had determined that this was necessary. No, not Jack. I know him. He would have spoken to her first, touched her, breathed in her scent and then killed her. And yet, despite this closeness, he was deceived.
"Arguably a better proof of the perfection Project Helix can achieve than Allison Doren has been," I said to Elena, as I didn't wish her to speculate on my thoughts. Elena, proving she was the most dangerous of the Derevko sisters, looked at me and said: "Yes. Is there anyone you would wish to see doubled?"
"I've played this game," I said indifferently. "I prefer not to reuse tools. Besides, in the new world..."
"Yes," Elena said a bit impatiently, "in the new world, everything will be different anyway, but not this. I think there is someone. Jack Bristow is not the only one who brought death to his wife, no? Irina told me, and so did her boy Julian. Your wife, she was shot in your place. Her blood was on your hands when she died. And before that, she sacrificed one of her fingers so you would both be safe."
She came closer and whispered in my ear.
"What became of that finger, Arvin, hmmm? You know, that is more than enough DNA for Project Helix. Should this be my welcoming present for you, my new confederate? Your very own Emily to do with what you like, just as I gave Jack Bristow an Irina of his own to kill?"
McKenas Cole, poor amateur, had nothing on Elena Derevko. I said no, of course. It was easy to say. I knew the Bristows and Nadia had to be on their way by now, I knew we would all work together to stop Elena, even if they did not yet. But the idea, once pronounced, would never leave me, and Elena knew it.
To see Emily again, alive. Just once. To talk to her. To hear her voice. To touch her hand, to hear her breathe, alive and safe. It would not be Emily, it would be an illusion, I know that, but as opposed to Jack I have been kown to willingly prefer illusions.
It would also be a betrayal of Emily, the only one I have not committed, and that is what has kept me from pursuing such a course of action. Not the idea of someone else being doomed to live out their life in another woman's skin, as Ms. Doren had been; frankly, I would only care that the woman in question was a good enough actress to disappear into her role. Yes, I do have more than enough DNA, stored in a Swiss deposit. I think about it sometimes, still.
And then I think of Emily choosing to come with me, for the third and fatal time, despite all I had done, and I know I will not do this to her, or her memory.
I wish my subconscious would accept this as well and would stop sending me dreams in which I do it anyway.
"So Irina is alive," I said to Elena Derevko, pretending only mild interest.
"As if I would let my little sister be killed by someone else," Elena scoffed, black eyes gleaming with delight. "She's a Derevko, and neither her fool of a husband nor yourself would be worthy. I'll do it myself."
Those few days I spent with the oldest of the Derevko sisters were among the least agreeable and yet most interesting of my life. She had only been a name before, competition in a race I had made myself abandon; as Sofia Vargas, she had been a lie. But here she was, one of the few people who could claim a knowledge of Rambaldi almost close to mine, if not the same understanding; the woman who had raised my daughter.
I despised her, of course. Because she was using a perversion of my own plans, because she had made it necessary for me to let Nadia believe I had betrayed her, because she had, as a matter of fact, betrayed Nadia, oh, and because she had used a man impersonating me who was responsible for some of the more painful hours of my life. Now there was also the new discovery she had set up Jack to kill who he believed to be Irina, and had held Irina under lock and key the entire time. If there is a Derevko making of fool of both Jack and myself, I would rather have it to be Irina, you know; I might never have been in love with Irina, but I... well, let us just say we understood each other. Her sister, on the other hand, thought she understood me and that I could not possibly be in the same position, which grated.
Most of all, though, I despised Elena Derevko because she was whole in a way I never had been, nor ever would be. There were never second thoughts to her, no regrets. She might not understand the true grandeur of Rambaldi's imagination, believing it to be a simple tool for world domination, but once she had committed to making his inventions her own, she never let anything stop her. It was like looking in a mirror, much as my confrontation with her puppet Ned had been, and seeing what others saw when they looked at me. Of course I despised her.
I am sure the feeling was mutual. Naturally, she did not trust me, no matter how much she respected my knowledge. She did not have time to do to me as she had done to Irina to make sure I was telling her the truth. So she came up with a way of tormenting me which was, I must admit, breathtakingly brilliant. After I had found out Irina was still alive, and that the Irina Jack had killed had been a product of Project Helix - some people would call this the elegance of nemesis, no doubt, given how both myself and Irina had profited from said Project not too long ago - I could not help but wonder at the magnitude of the deception. You see, I was sure that Jack would not have done the expedient think and simply killed Irina once he had determined that this was necessary. No, not Jack. I know him. He would have spoken to her first, touched her, breathed in her scent and then killed her. And yet, despite this closeness, he was deceived.
"Arguably a better proof of the perfection Project Helix can achieve than Allison Doren has been," I said to Elena, as I didn't wish her to speculate on my thoughts. Elena, proving she was the most dangerous of the Derevko sisters, looked at me and said: "Yes. Is there anyone you would wish to see doubled?"
"I've played this game," I said indifferently. "I prefer not to reuse tools. Besides, in the new world..."
"Yes," Elena said a bit impatiently, "in the new world, everything will be different anyway, but not this. I think there is someone. Jack Bristow is not the only one who brought death to his wife, no? Irina told me, and so did her boy Julian. Your wife, she was shot in your place. Her blood was on your hands when she died. And before that, she sacrificed one of her fingers so you would both be safe."
She came closer and whispered in my ear.
"What became of that finger, Arvin, hmmm? You know, that is more than enough DNA for Project Helix. Should this be my welcoming present for you, my new confederate? Your very own Emily to do with what you like, just as I gave Jack Bristow an Irina of his own to kill?"
McKenas Cole, poor amateur, had nothing on Elena Derevko. I said no, of course. It was easy to say. I knew the Bristows and Nadia had to be on their way by now, I knew we would all work together to stop Elena, even if they did not yet. But the idea, once pronounced, would never leave me, and Elena knew it.
To see Emily again, alive. Just once. To talk to her. To hear her voice. To touch her hand, to hear her breathe, alive and safe. It would not be Emily, it would be an illusion, I know that, but as opposed to Jack I have been kown to willingly prefer illusions.
It would also be a betrayal of Emily, the only one I have not committed, and that is what has kept me from pursuing such a course of action. Not the idea of someone else being doomed to live out their life in another woman's skin, as Ms. Doren had been; frankly, I would only care that the woman in question was a good enough actress to disappear into her role. Yes, I do have more than enough DNA, stored in a Swiss deposit. I think about it sometimes, still.
And then I think of Emily choosing to come with me, for the third and fatal time, despite all I had done, and I know I will not do this to her, or her memory.
I wish my subconscious would accept this as well and would stop sending me dreams in which I do it anyway.
