The Scylla Hexagram: Kym A-1

By Paul Riva

As the full moon shines on a sacred Himalayan cliff, Kym Blaze falls into a raging white water river and escapes from a hooded killer who plunged after her.

Eighteen years later, a global Secret Service assigns Kym, now an attractive botanist and Special Ops agent, to identify the same hooded killer, known as the Unicorn, whose name has reappeared in the Hong Kong underworld.

To find the Unicorn, she must track a star trader called Obermeyer, recently freed from jail by Unicorn henchmen. Kym only has six days to stop the Unicorn from achieving global hegemony, but her emotional demons surface unexpectedly and threaten her survival. Torn between her mission and her past, she must unravel the deadly maze of the Scylla hexagram in order to stay alive and face the dark shadow of her deepest fear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 22, 2004
• ISBN: 9780595755592

Paul Riva

Paul Riva leads an active life. He has traveled in Europe, North and Central America, South East Asia, and the Middle East. Paul speaks Spanish, French and English fluently; he holds a Master in Operations Research from Cornell University and an MBA from MIT. The Scylla Hexagram is his first novel.

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PROLOGUE

Eighteen years ago, October 7—Eastern Nepal

She was falling into the thundering noise. Kym Blaze felt the numbness in her muscles disappear, as the Himalayan cliff lit up by the full moon became smaller. She was only seven years old, but she knew exactly where she was. The cliff was fifty feet high; her face was facing the night sky. She had to flip around or the fall would kill her. The words of her father rang strongly in her head: Head leads, body follows. Always. A tree branch scraped her right arm, and the pain awakened her muscles completely. She had less than a second to make her move. She tilted her head backward and for the first time, she saw the thundering noise. Foam. Water. Raging water.

The Sun Kosi claimed victims every year. Every year, a few rafting tourists went for a swim with the lethal currents, disregarding repeated warnings from her Nepalese friends. And almost all of them paid with their lives. Now, she had become a reckless tourist and she was challenging the rough waters defiantly. But she did not want to pay. Kym felt her body turn around completely in mid-air, and suddenly she was upright, moon above, river below. She tried to guess her landing spot, but a large shadow covered the moonlight and the bright foam below became a dark patch. She glanced up and her whole body tensed. The hooded man had jumped after her, determined to kill the prey that had barely escaped by stumbling on a stone.

Contact was brutal. Kym glued her arms to her body to lessen the blow, but felt a big bruise as she hit the river feet first, before disappearing underwater. An upper current pushed her out of the river flow, but a wall of water fell on her and dragged her below the surface. She held her breath and felt the pressure on her ankle. The water pushed her up again, and she was able to breathe briefly, while she opened her eyes. She could not see him, but he was there. The hooded man was beneath her, holding a steel grip around her ankle. Suddenly the danger of the wild water disappeared. She was scared of this man, scared beyond anything else in the world, because this man did not think right, because there was something strange about the words he said, and because he was dangerous. She had seen him kill a man, and she knew that she had to break his grip or he would kill her, too.

A large hand surfaced toward Kym’s neck. She struggled to get away, but the grip was just too strong. She saw his left hand moving toward her neck, while his right hand was pulling her down, using her small weight to push himself to the surface. Without warning, the current pushed them both into the shore. They hit a rock wall and she saw his head emerging from the dark liquid mass. The hood was still there, a dark shadow getting closer to her face. They bounced toward another large rock and she saw his hand moving toward her again.

She raised her arms to protect herself, and noticed she was falling. Again. Only this time it was faster. A whirlpool. The rock had created a treacherous whirlpool that marked the entrance to the river’s dark depths. The swirling water sucked Kym downward with a force she had never experienced before, and the thundering noise became silent darkness. She felt the increased pressure on her ankle, but the grip was different now. It was a grip of fear, looking for something familiar to grasp, as total disorientation was taking over the senses of the hooded man. The two puppets of the powerful current realized it at the same time. They had made a mistake by challenging the river. It didn’t matter who was the predator and who was the prey. The Sun Kosi was claiming its victims, and once more they had to pay with their lives.

The turbulent waters kept dragging them downward toward the riverbed. Kym lost track of the surface. Everything was pitch black; she couldn’t see anything, and she felt her lungs emptying the last pockets of air. She was on the verge of panicking and she started to open her mouth to breathe. But she remembered that a Brownie never panics, and she bit her lips to keep her mouth shut. Her tenacity was rewarded. With a force as strong as the first swirl, an upward current pushed them both toward the surface for endless seconds.

The hooded man surfaced first. A five-foot wave crashed into his face and broke his grip on Kym. Almost immediately, a second upward current propelled her out of the water like a buoy, and she breathed avidly as she flew through the air, barely avoiding a huge rock in front of her. Peering anxiously from the corner of her eye, she saw the hand of the hooded man being carried away by the unstoppable river flow.

She did not want to go back. She scanned the space around her for something to grasp and found it, a small branch two feet below her, hanging from an overextended tree. Gravity pulled her down, and she gripped the branch with all her strength. For the first time in the last few minutes, her body was more or less still. The sensation was strange; she did not like stillness, not anymore. She looked at the river but he was gone. She opened her mouth to scream but closed it before any sound came out. He could hear her, he could come back.

Kym pulled herself on the branch and stepped ashore. She stood up and listened to the thundering noise that could not claim her life. Her eyes were wide open, she was shivering from the fall wind blowing. She didn’t want to remember the hooded man, she wished they had never met. She wanted to forget everything that had happened that night. Forever. And she tried.

CHAPTER 1

Now, September 30—Sausalito, California

The blue, four-wheel drive parked in front of the marina, as the late afternoon sun sent its last rays toward the Sausalito seashore. Nat Irving stepped down to the sidewalk, thinking again about the card that a God-sent creature had given him at a flower exhibit the day before. Dinner invitation for one on the ‘Alegria’ upper deck at the Sausalito Marina on September 30. Please RSVP KYM 415-152-3047.

He walked down the marina and found the sailboat without problems. Alegria was a brand new, forty-foot sailboat that had the word leisure written all over it. The executive admired the boat’s silhouette for a few seconds, until the God-sent creature appeared out of the lower deck. The attractive girl with long, blond hair was wearing jeans and a white cotton turtleneck. The figure was athletic, yet feminine. The eyes were green, the voice sexy.

You must be Nat Irving, she said.

And you are Kym, said the man, noticing three small pearl earrings on the girl’s right ear.

Yes, Kym Blaze, you can call me Kym, said the girl, with a slight British accent.

Pleased to meet you again. You can call me Nat.

This is my orderly, Hoeh Gurung, said the girl, pointing to a stocky man with boyish looks climbing up the boat stairs.

Pleased to meet you, said Hoeh, shaking hands with the guest.

Nice place you have.

Thank you, it’s home for now. Please sit down, Dinner is almost ready, said Kym.

Ever had Nepalese food? she asked. The new guest’s face dimmed.

Never.

Bring out the Daal Baat, Hoeh.

Mmm, this is great. What is it? asked Nat.

Lentils with chicken and rice, prepared the Nepalese way. Hoeh’s from Nepal.

It tastes delicious. How did the two of you meet?

I grew up in Nepal with him. My father was in the military, he was a Gurkha officer, and his orderly was Hoeh’s father, she said, smiling.

How long have you been in California? she asked.

Five years, and I must say I love it. Beats the New York winter, that’s for sure.

Cold weather makes you unhappy? asked Hoeh.

Well, I was also getting tired of my investment banking job. Deal after deal, eighty-hour weeks, takeovers, valuations, counter-valuations...

But the money is good, right? asked Kym.

What good is money if you don’t have the time to enjoy it?

Good point.

Kym stared at Nat Irving while he placed down his plate and enjoyed the bay view before him. People who made a lot of money always intrigued her. From reading newspapers, she saw many differences in the way millionaires earned, lived with and used their money. It seemed money was a reflection on the person’s values. She savoured the lentils on her plate and noticed how the light spices heightened the taste. Money had flavors, too, and they were tied to its owner. Just like there were many ways of cooking the same food, there were many ways of earning, thinking about and living with or without money. Intuitively, she thought that money, like nature, was subject to a set of laws, but she was still trying to figure them out.

So you said at the exhibit there was a project you wanted to talk about? he asked.

Yes indeed, said Kym, flashing a bright smile. She paused briefly. I think what you just said is why we make such good complements. I have a lot of time, but I need a little more money. I’m currently doing some research on the medical use of some flowers, and I need some funding. So I thought that maybe venture capital would be interested in the idea.

Do you have a business plan?

It’s all at the definition stage, really. I would like to eventually set up a Botanical Research Center for the Advance of Medicine.

Sounds ambitious. How much are you looking for?

I think I can start with a million dollars.

I need to know specifics, said Nat.

The first idea is commercial, said Kym. The Botanical Center would be non-profit, so I would need to fund that first.

Realistic goals, I like that. What’s the concept?

The idea is simple, said Kym, staring at Nat for a few seconds to make sure she had his attention. Basically, it would be a care and maintenance shop for plants and flowers.

Like a regular flower shop?

No, no, this goes beyond, said Kym, extending her hand into the horizon. I call it an FCS, Flower Care Spa. It’s like having a personal trainer for your plants and flowers. All the basic principles to have healthy flowers for years and years. Nutrition, soil, exercise...

Personal trainer, exercise, thought Nat. He pictured an aerobic instructor moving a flowerpot up and down a step aerobic mat, to the sound of dance music, but he returned to more serious thoughts.

It’s new, is all he managed to say.

Yes, of course, it’s new, said Kym, that’s the idea, it’s a new concept in plant and flower care. I even have a name for the company: Flower Power. I don’t know, it may be too sixtyish. What do you think?

I’m still trying to understand the concept, said Nat. What exactly are you thinking about when you say exercise? I mean, unless we are talking about those carnivorous algae that take small passing fish with their tentacles, plants cannot move.

You help them out! said Kym enthusiastically. Guide their growth so that they can grow straight, make sure the light is good, give them a massage to strengthen the flow of nutrients inside the stem.

The word massage triggered new thoughts into Nat’s mind. He saw a plant laid horizontally over a long table, with a white towel covering the pot, and someone moving the stem left and right to increase flexibility.

Do you think there’s a market for this.. .this.. .plant gym of yours? I mean how much will one of these massages cost?

I am still thinking about pricing, it’s not something easy to value in the short term.

You know, said Nat, I think we are still at the ‘people massage’ stage. We still have to go through the ‘massage the house,’ ‘massage the car’ and ‘massage the clothes’ stages before we get into giving a massage to a plant.

I know, I know, it’s a little strange, but there is a market—just look at all those gardening books out there. People love plants and flowers, nature is beautiful.

Kym emphasized her last sentence by opening her arms to the bay, and she saw Nat following her movement with his head nodding. She liked Nat’s way of thinking, he was straight in conversation, and you could see he was interested in learning new things all the time. He was open-minded enough to consider an idea without sentencing it from the start, but he was grounded enough to test its strength early on. He was driven by achievement more than power, and he had a positive view of money without being greedy. Last, but not least, he had money, or at least he had access to it. The perfect sponsor.

OK, let’s suppose the idea works, said Nat. Let’s talk about profit. What is your breakeven point?

Breakeven?

Yes, the point where your revenues will match all your initial setup costs.

In terms of dollars?

No, said Nat, in terms of massages.

Well, I would have to come back to you on that. The cost study is still under way.

What about payback period? When do you expect investors to recoup their money?

Kym threw a surprised glance at Hoeh, who smiled calmly at her.

Quick, said Kym, very quick.

Could you be a little more specific?

All right, sighed Kym, in two years, maybe two and a half, they’ll get 100 percent back. Nat’s eyes lightened for the first time.

Now, that’s reasonable.. .maybe, we can.

A beeping sound interrupted the conversation. Shoot, thought Kym, just when she was about to convince him that her crazy project would actually make money. Kym answered the phone and recognized the harsh sound immediately. It was the voice she hoped not to hear. The voice of the storm.

Blaze, I need you and your orderly immediately for a mission.

Where? asked Kym.

Hong Kong. Pick up instructions in one hour at the San Francisco airport at the courtesy phone when they call for Myk Labez. And get some books on the stock market and derivatives, will you?

It has to be in one hour? The question was useless, but maybe the storm was not fully awake.

Blaze. said the annoyed voice.

OK, OK, one hour, airport, courtesy phone. Fly Miss Robustiana wherever we’re going, will you? Thanks. Bye. Myk. What a way to deform her name.

Nat, I’m sorry, we need to go, something urgent with my research. I need to check a plantation.

Now?

High density nitrate in the soil. Either I take the flowers out or they all die within an hour. Nat didn’t know there was a special task force for flowers until now, but all he could do was nod.

No problem, please go ahead. We’ll talk later. He handed his plate to Hoeh, who threw the leftovers to the sea. Immediately, a group of fish behaving like piranhas surfaced to fight for a piece of the Nepalese dish.

Uh-oh, thought Kym, they had to find someone to take care of them, too, and in less than an hour. An idea sprang up inside her mind.

Nat, you told me you were thinking about a vacation?

Yes, I’d like to take a few days off, just doing nothing you know, and I like the view.

How would you like to live on a sailboat for a few days?

You mean this one? Nat looked around and it didn’t take him long to reach a decision. Sure, I’d love to. I’ll take care of it while you’re gone.

Hoeh, could you please show Nat around while I make my suitcase?

Fifteen minutes later, Kym took Hoeh by the arm and asked him the question impatiently.

Did you tell him?

About?

Them!

You mean all of them?

Yes, you know they are all together.

No, not yet.

All right, sighed Kym, let me talk to them first, it might be too much of a shock.

It was difficult to say good-bye. They didn’t like it, but she reassured them that she would only be away for a few days. Besides, Nat was a nice person. After a few sober minutes, Kym’s voice called them from below.

OK, Hoeh, Nat, you can both come down.

Nat walked down the stairs and almost stumbled on one of the steps as he looked inside the sailboat’s main cabin. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Hundreds of flowers of different colors, shapes and sizes were filling virtually the whole lower deck. Nat Irving thought he was in a botanical garden floating on the sea. But he really was in the lower deck of a sailboat.

I love flowers, said Kym, they are a little sad now that we’re leaving. But I’ve already told them about you. A personal introduction would have been best, but you’ll have plenty of time to know them. They’re very friendly.

Know them, thought Nat. How he would explain to his friends at the bar that he had just been introduced to hundreds of flowers that wanted to be friends with him?

Hoeh broke the silence. I’ll tell you what you need to water them.

W. ..wait, said Nat, suddenly realizing the extent of the responsibility, this is way out of my league, I mean, what if one of them dies?

No, no, don’t think negative, said Hoeh, you’ll do great. Just talk to them every day with love.

Talk? Nat’s face had the look of an executive who had just been asked to climb Everest in fifteen minutes flat.

To the flowers? he asked, just to make sure he was not missing something.

Yes, said Hoeh, it may feel different at first, but once the rapport is established, things will be much easier.

B...but, what do I say?

Whatever comes to your mind. It’s the thought that counts. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Nat perplexed, Hoeh confident of the apprentice’s capabilities to perform the task at hand successfully.

With love, said Nat, now fully immersed in his new role, more and more