The stage finished in the small town of Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, more than forty kilometers past the mountain, with another, less vigorous climb between the riders and the end.
“No, this is the spot I want to be at. If Liang is leading here, I know he’s strong enough to win the stage. This is what this race means to me, the rider struggling to the top of the mountain, on his own, fighting his pain and fatigue as much as he is taking on the other riders.”
“I know you like the sport,” said Jimmy.
“It’s a metaphor for me,” said Berman. “I’m a competitive guy.” A moment later a cheer went up from the crowd as the people pressed forward.
“They are coming,” said Jimmy.
The police were now fighting to contain the crowd so that they could keep the road open. In the next instant a police car summited the peak with siren blaring, then another car, then a car from the Azeri team and a motorbike with a cameraman facing backward, training his camera practically in the rider’s face. Berman strained to see through the flags — he saw the rider being patted on the back and heard the cheering for the leader. It was Liang, he was leading the stage! Berman had been following the race online, so he knew what was happening, but he needed to see it for himself. It was sweet victory.
Liang looked strong, his face set in rugged determination, breathing evenly. He was standing on his pedals, straining for every last ounce of effort, then sitting as he rode a short flat before the descent began. He reached down and took a water bottle, zipped up his shirt, which he’d opened for ventilation on the climb, stuffed his mouth with some food, drank, and then was out of sight, followed by more team cars and motorbikes fighting through the crowd that had closed up behind Liang.
A loudspeaker was booming news of the other riders in French, but Berman couldn’t make out any of the information. He looked at Jimmy, who gestured with his head for the two of them to leave. Berman followed him and looked down below as the road snaked away. He could see Liang and the caravan following behind him, rounding a bend far below. Jimmy was looking at his watch, then at his cell phone.
“He has a four-minute lead,” Jimmy said. “The rest of the race is spread out, and there is no organized pursuit. Liang will win the stage.”
Although he had seen his rider crown the mountain in triumph, Berman now was second-guessing his decision to avoid the finish of the stage. He realized that he and Jimmy would be stuck on top of the mountain for hours. But he knew that in less than an hour, Liang would win a stage of the Tour de France, and Berman would be halfway toward his goaclass="underline" unlimited funding for microbivores. An image of his mother came into his head and he shook it away. Not now. He breathed in a deep draft of mountain air and allowed himself a short, self-satisfied smile.
CHAPTER 38
Pia stood in the familiar Nano parking lot, composing herself. She was hoping that the trouble she had just encountered getting through the guard station wasn’t a harbinger of her general reception and was merely the result of a misunderstanding. She had been held up at the security gate because she was driving Paul’s parents’ old Toyota, not the VW that she was logged into the system with. Even though the guard had seemed to recognize her, he was not willing to let her pass. What had bothered him more than the make of the car was that Pia’s ID no longer worked when he tried to swipe it into the system through his computer. She explained that she had been off work for a considerable period, and she probably had to renew her ID. The guard agreed that she should go straight to the security station and then finally let her through.
Now, as she stood next to her car, Pia wondered if her nerve was failing. She could never recall such a thing, but the Nano buildings suddenly looked huge and foreboding. The sky was low and dark, which didn’t help, and she felt unwelcome. The origin of that feeling was not difficult to discern, because she had received only one piece of correspondence from Nano other than the less-than-friendly call from Mariel while she was still in the hospital. The letter confirmed what Mariel had said, that Pia would have to submit to a physical before she could restart work, but gave no timetable. Pia knew her hospital bills and physical therapy charges had been taken care of by Nano’s insurance plan, but she had no record of the transactions. In the meantime, Mariel Spallek didn’t return any calls or emails, and recently when Pia called, she received an automatic reply that the voice mailbox was full.
Pia couldn’t help but wonder if she was still a bona fide employee of Nano or if she was in a kind of limbo, such as administrative leave. She had been getting her regular pay statements through the mail, so she was still being paid, but these were coming through the bank, not from Nano directly. She had in her possession letters from both of her surgeons and the physical therapy department documenting her considerable progress. She wasn’t totally finished with her rehab, but she believed she was certainly able to work. She felt she had very little alternative to showing up in person to find out what the story was.
The threatening rain began slowly with just a few drops, then it increased. As she stood in the drizzle, trying to summon her resolve, Pia saw a familiar figure recede away from her toward the building entrance. He had pulled in after her but had parked in a reserved section.
“Jason! Hold up a second.”
Jason Rodriguez turned, saw Pia, gave an embarrassed wave, and kept walking. Pia ran after him and planted herself in front of the much taller man.
“Jason, what’s going on? Can’t you stop and say hi?”
“Late, I’m late, Pia, so I can’t stop, really.”
The man’s eyes darted left and right, avoiding Pia’s gaze.
“Paul told me you came to see me in the hospital, when I was asleep. That was kind of you. I wish you’d have come back when I was awake.”
Jason looked down momentarily and caught Pia’s eye. She could see a pained expression on his face.
“What’s the matter, Jason? You seem very uncomfortable talking to me.”
“Mariel…” said Jason quietly, before his voice trailed off.
“Mariel? Mariel what, Jason? Mariel told you not to talk to me? What did Mariel say about me?”
“Okay, listen.” Jason’s attention was now fully trained on Pia to the point that she herself had to look away. “Mariel knew I had gone to see you in the hospital, and she wasn’t happy about it. She said you were bad news, and that I needed to keep away from you if I wanted to continue working at Nano. I tried to say that I thought you were a bit aloof but an excellent scientist. Her reply was that there were a lot things I didn’t know.”
“Like what? What was she implying?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“And you just believed her.”
“I’m sorry, Pia, this job is my big break. I’ve been trying to get a job like this for years. You know how it is out there.”
Pia stared at Jason for as long as she could before looking off. She couldn’t believe it. It was as if she were some kind of pariah. She felt like trying to goad Jason into talking to her and tell her what he really thought since he was certainly holding back. But she didn’t have the energy.
“Good luck, Pia,” Jason said after an uncomfortable moment. “I hope things work out, I really do.” He turned up the collar of his jacket and hurried on toward the building.
Pia needed an outlet for her anger, so she took out her phone and, despite the light rain, dialed Mariel Spallek’s number. It was probably best the woman didn’t answer because Pia wasn’t sure what she would have said. On this occasion Mariel’s voice mail did pick up, but Pia didn’t bother to leave a message. Instead she shut and locked the car door and walked quickly toward the Nano entrance.