Vienna Station Read Online Free PDF

rustic furniture, looks as though it belongs in a mountain lodge. Various instruments lean against walls and rest on chairs. Sheets of music and books are scattered on the floor. A fire burns vigorously in the vast, fieldstone fireplace. I yawn.
    “Want another sticky bun?”
    I look over my shoulder. Mozart is standing beside the bed holding two steaming cups. “Is that some sort of joke?”
    His eyes are clear as water, his face an innocent lily. “I never joke about sticky buns.”
    I move my leg beneath the covers. “I noticed.” I turn toward him. He offers a cup. I accept it. I sip coffee. “Good!”
    He sits on the edge of the bed. “How could it not be good here?”
    I sip again and look at him. “You apologized to me. You never explained why you did what you did.”
    He smiles at me. “Someone distracted me with a kiss.”
    I smile. “I’ll restrain myself now.”
    He shrugs. “Too bad.”
    I persist. “Really, you must have had a reason for treating me as you did.”
    He nods. “I did.” He looks at me. “I do.” He sets the cup down on a side table. “This room,” he motions to the paneled walls, “is my retreat. It is secure from any possible monitoring. Only I,” he smiles, “and now you, ever come here.”
    “You fear spies?” I ask.
    “I do. I have secrets. I know things I’m not supposed to know.” He looks at me. “I had to determine whether or not you’d been sent to discover them.”
    I shake my head. “I’m no spy.”
    He nods, “I know that. Now.” He rises, walks to the fireplace, turns. “Also, I need your help.”
    I snort. “You could have asked.”
    “I am asking. Dru, will you help me?”
    “With what?”
    He looks at me for a long moment. “I need you to help me prevent a genocide, a genocide preceded by a mass murder.”
    CEO Frederick holds a fat cigar. He studies it carefully. Finally, he holds it beneath his nose and sniffs its aroma.
    Lola, again sitting in her chair, asks, “You aren’t going to light that thing in here, are you?”
    Frederick looks up. “Alas, no. Part of enjoying a good cigar is anticipation, you see.” He returns the cigar to a humidor on the table beside him. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Our agent is prepared to act?”
    Lola nods. “He’s ready.”
    “The packages are in place?”
    “They will be in position a few days from now.”
    Frederick rubs his hands together and steps lightly to a computer screen. He says, “I’m sure that Mozart is aware of our plans.”
    Lola chuckles. “How could he be? You’re paranoid.”
    “Still, I feel that something is amiss.
    Lola shrugs. “Alex says he will soon have access to Mozart’s rooms. That should ease your doubts.”
    Frederick nods. “Perhaps. We should also have emergency response plans in place in case he does know what we intend.”
    Lola shakes her head. “Go ahead, if it makes you feel better.”
    Mozart picks up a real violin, a Guarneri. “Poor Earth is bloated with people, passions and poisons. It staggers along from crisis to crisis. Food production is at maximum levels now. Should some small part of its incredibly complex infrastructure fail?” He plucks a string.
    I shake my head impatiently. “I grew up In L.A. I saw the Figueroa riots up close. More than 8,000 died.
    Mozart looks at me. “I know your background. It is one of the reasons you were chosen for the orchestra.”
    I am exasperated now. “You chose me for reasons other than my playing?”
    “Yes, though your musical competence is faultless, I also admired your determination. You rose above the very mean streets where you were born. I needed a further test, however.”
    “Why?”
    “You are too perfect.”
    “Too perfect?”
    Mozart nods. “I need the help of an excellent musician from L.A. You are made to order for my need. You could have been a plant.”
    My head is spinning. I ask, “Cut to the chase! Why do you need me?”
    He sighs. “That is a complicated question.”
    I settle