Krysalis: Krysalis

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Authors: John Tranhaile
Tags: Fiction, General, Espionage
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froze, staring at it in honor. He had to find a way of somehow making her answer that and get rid of the caller.
    She stirred, groaned, made an attempt to turn over.
    “Anna!” he cried. “For God’s sake,
wake up!”
    The phone rang again. Anna changed position and uttered a groan. She looked terrible: her long blond hair tumbled in rats’ tails to frame a narrow oval face whoseprincipal features were black circles around eyes that opened but a slit. She opened her mouth again, and this time the groan turned into a gag. “Head … hurts. Blind …”
    “Anna! Wake up.
Anna!”
    Gerhard dragged her up to a sitting position and slapped her cheeks.
    The phone kept ringing.
    He folded her right hand around the telephone receiver. Her head lolled on her chest. “Answer it,” Gerhard hissed.
    “He … herro.”
    He heard pip-pip sounds, the caller was in a phone booth.
“Anna! Anna, for Christ’s sake, is that you!”
It was David.
    Anna stared at him. Her mouth fell open. In the split second before she could speak he raised a finger to his lips. “Speak … to … him,” he mouthed. And when she continued to stare at him, he snatched up her right hand to force the receiver against her mouth.
    “Anna … why don’t you answer!”
    “Hello.”
    Gerhard sat on the bed and held his head close. Anna’s breath stank, but this was life or death.
    “Oh thank God, thank God. What the hell’s going on? Are you all right? Anna?
Anna!”
    “All righ …”
    “What?”
    “Must have … overslept.”
    “Darling, do you know what time it is?”
    Anna continued to stare at Gerhard as if she were a moron. “Sunday morning,” she whispered mechanically.
    “Sunday!
It’s Monday! Monday morning, seven-fifteen. Anna, what is wrong with you?”
    She sat up and transferred her gaze to the alarm clock. She was struggling, Gerhard knew, to come to terms with the knowledge that she had lost an entire day. His face tightened.
    “I’m sorry … Monday, how silly. I was working till all hours last night.”
    “I phoned the house, no answer, I couldn’t sleep for worry … Anna? Darling, please
talk to me!”
    “Tired, that’s all. Just very tired.”
    “I’ve left the seminar. Wait there until I come, we’ll get a doctor—”
    “Where … are … you?” Gerhard articulated soundlessly.
    “David … where are you?”
    “Still in Sussex. Anna, you’re ill. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, less.”
    Gerhard held up both hands and waved them frantically. Anna understood. “No. I don’t want—”
    “I love you.”
    “David!
You mustn’t—” But she was talking across the purr of an empty line.
    She just sat there, staring vacantly. Then she threw back the duvet and slid out of bed. “Going to be sick …”
    She could make it to the bathroom only on her hands and knees, like an animal. Once there she began to retch; she seemed to be throwing up endless amounts of bile and she couldn’t stop. When Gerhard turned on the bidet’s cold-water tap she somehow slurped a drink. After she’d brought that up and drunk some more, the spasms began to abate.
    Gerhard threw open the cabinet. Aspirin. No, Alka-Seltzer.He found a packet and mixed it into a glass of water. Down it went.
    The one cogent, coherent fact that kept Gerhard thinking straight was that David would be home soon. They had time, but only a bit.
    Anna turned away from the basin, ever so slowly. “What are you doing here?” she asked suddenly.
    “I … I phoned you but you never answered. I came around, rang the bell, but I couldn’t make anyone hear. In the end I had to break in. Thank God you hadn’t set the burglar alarm.”
    As far as he could see, she accepted this. Her eyes unfocused again and she muttered, “Dreams …”
    “What?”
    When she did not reply he shook her. “What did you say?”
    “Terrible … dreams. Nightmares. Safe.” Gerhard’s skin turned cold. “What about the safe?”
    “Opened David’s safe … took papers.

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