Текст книги "Pandora's Daughter "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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CHAPTER TEN

"JED HARLEY?" MOLINO REPEATED. "That circus bitch was sure that Harley did the payoff to that roustabout?"

"The description Pierre Jacminot gave her fit him like a glove," Sienna said. "But that means Grady."

"And I'd bet the Blair woman."

"Why would they want inside the trailer? Grady has to know we wouldn't leave evidence."

Ordinary evidence, Molino thought bitterly. Who knew what information one of those freaks might come up with? "I don't care why they wanted inside the trailer. If they found any lead to the Ledger, I want to know about it. Did you send someone to Chantilly?"

"Five minutes after I got the call. Falbon should be there in a few hours." He paused. "What are his instructions? If he sees an opportunity, should he kill the woman?"

Molino thought about it. Two attempts at downing Megan Blair and no success. It was totally ridiculous. If Falbon could do the job, he should let him kill her.

The Ledger.

Lists of names of all those other monsters like the one who had killed his son. "No, we can wait. Just tell him to find her and then watch every move she makes." And let the bitch lead him to the Ledger.

"RENATA WILGER." HARLEY SHOOK his head as he glanced over the list he'd been handed at the airport. "Seven names. It's not going to be easy. What do I do? Just go up to them and ask if they'll please give me the Ledger? She'll probably know what happened to Edmund Gillem."

"Maybe not," Grady said. "Gillem wouldn't have entrusted the Ledger to anyone who was known to be close to him. Molino's probably paid a visit to everyone who might fall in that category."

"What about his ex-wife?" Megan asked. "Even though they were divorced, would Molino—"

"She drowned in a boating accident a week after Edmund died."

"Molino?" Megan whispered.

He shrugged. "She was a good sailor and the weather was fine. There were bruises on her body when it was found."

"You didn't tell me."

"What good would it have done? It was declared an unfortunate accident and you were facing enough ugliness."

"I don't want you keeping things from me."

He shrugged. "She probably didn't know anything about the Ledger. From what I found about the divorce, it was a complete break. Edmund wouldn't have confided in her."

"I still want to make up my own mind." She turned to Harley. "I'll help you go through the list."

"No, you won't," Harley said. "It's my job. I'll narrow it down and then I'll let you and Grady sift through what's left." He glanced out the window. "The Sheraton's right ahead. Nice hotel. I spent a few days there last year. Luscious feather mattresses and steaming hot chocolate in silver pots. A little Sound of Music ambiance, but that's not bad. I like schmaltz."

"What were you doing here?" Megan asked.

"Attending a pastry school. Everyone thinks that Paris has the finest schools for cuisine, but I learned how to make the most—why are you laughing?"

"Another career, Harley?"

"Not a career. I only took an internship for a month or two. There was a chef here who had the secret of how to make incredible Baumkuchen. He created twenty-eight layers of batter and each one was magnificent."

A smile was still tugging at her lips. "And you can never tell when you're going to need to know something as valuable as that."

He beamed. "It's wonderful to be understood." Grady had pulled up at the front entrance and Harley jumped out. "I'll check in for you. One glance at Megan and the desk clerk would be able to describe her. She's got that kind of face. Wait in the bar."

"Adjoining rooms," Grady told him.

"Right." He disappeared into the hotel.

"You tensed up when I said that," Grady said tightly. "A door between us isn't going to make any difference. It's a matter of choice."

"That's why I didn't say anything." But the intimacy of the thought had had an affect on her. Dammit, everything about him was having a physical affect on her. She opened the door and got out of the car. "This isn't an old fifties B movie. I'm worried about staying alive, not about preserving my honor." She smiled without mirth. "Do you know I've always thought that phrase was ridiculous when you consider keeping their women pure and intact was historically to preserve a man's honor. Actually, they thought women were livestock and had no honor."

"They'd be wrong about you. You have honor," Grady said as he got out of the car. "But it's not between your legs."

Her eyes widened. "My God, how rude." Then she chuckled. "I don't believe I've ever felt flattered by such a crude compliment. It was a compliment, wasn't it?"

He took her elbow and moved toward the entrance. "Hell, yes."

"How long do you think it will it take him to find Renata Wilger?"

"Harley is good and he has excellent contacts."

"Are you being evasive?"

"Yes. One day if he's lucky. Three if he strikes out."

"What do you mean?"

"He has to find her, establish a connection with Gillem, and convince her that we're not going to kill her. It may take time. I know you don't want to hear that."

"You're damn right I don't." She didn't want to wait around and cool her heels in a hotel room. Particularly a room with Grady near enough to be within calling distance. "What if Molino finds Renata Wilger before we do?" What a stupid question. He'd just told her that Edmund's ex-wife had been killed and she had been ignorant of anything to do with the Ledger.

"The chances are we're ahead of the game. Providing Edmund didn't give Molino anything to work on."

"He didn't." She frowned. "But you said that he'd been tracking down family members. Wouldn't Renata Wilger be a family member? Edmund wouldn't have entrusted the Ledger to someone outside the family."

He nodded. "You're right. It would have been smarter, but he wouldn't have wanted to put anyone at risk that had nothing to gain."

"Then Molino could be searching now for Renata Wilger."

"Do you realize how large and far-flung the Devanez family is? And the core descendants don't want to be found. It took twelve years for me to track down Edmund Gillem."

"And Molino was ahead of you. He could be ahead of us now." She made a motion with her hand as he started to speak. "Sorry. I know worrying isn't productive." She headed for the bar. "I just have to keep busy until Harley finds her."

"How?"

"I want to read a copy of that ancient Tribunal Inquisition report about the Devanez family that Michael Travis managed to unearth. Can you get him to fax it to me?"

He didn't speak for a moment. "Yes."

But he was reluctant to do it, she realized. His face was without expression, but that hesitancy had spoken for itself. "Is there a problem?" She paused and then stared him in the eye. "Did you lie to me?"

"No." He moved toward the bar in the lobby. "I didn't lie. But there may be a problem. You'll have to decide that for yourself when you read it. I do have to warn you the description of the torture they inflicted on Ricardo Devanez is graphic."

"After what I went through with Edmund, reading about a torture session isn't going to send me around the bend. I won't like it but it's not going to stop me from sifting through it to get the entire picture. When can I expect the fax?"

"I'll call Michael tonight. He'll send it right away." He held her chair for her and motioned for the waiter. "There's a line at the reception desk. We may be here awhile. What do you want to drink?"

"Just coffee."

"I need something a bit stronger." He ordered her coffee and bourbon for himself. "Have you heard anything more from Dr. Gardner about Phillip?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. It seems as if a long time has passed since I talked to him. But it hasn't really. I can't expect any treatment to work overnight." She smiled. "But on the positive side, Scott e-mailed me that one of my patients suffering with staph has taken a turn for the better. Maybe they don't need me as much as I thought they did."

"They need you," Grady said. "And you need them, don't you? You told me you've always wanted to be a doctor. When did you realize it?"

"When I was just a little kid in grade school. I had a friend, Antonia, who was in an automobile accident. Everyone thought she was going to die. She didn't die. They saved her." She paused. "I thought it was a miracle. I wanted to be able to be part of that miracle. It didn't take me anytime at all to find out that miracles seldom happened, but I could still help ease the pain. There's so much pain in the world, Grady."

"And so much joy," he said. "There's always a balance."

She nodded. "I know. Every time I forget that I go pick up Davy for an outing and he brings it all back. Children know all about joy."

"Davy's the little boy you were with at the zoo?"

"Yes." A smile lit her face. "Scott e-mailed me a new picture of Davy with his report. He has his first bike. It has training wheels, but you should see how proud he looks. It's wonderful."

"I can see it must be." His gaze was fastened on her face. "You're obviously crazy about the kid. I'm surprised you don't go into pediatrics."

"I have to get stronger. I have to build myself up to it." She made a face. "I get enough criticism because I don't have enough objectivity with my patients. A sick child tears me to pieces."

"Then, dammit, give yourself a break," he said roughly. "Why be so hard on yourself?"

"Because the joy is worth the pain." She sat back in her chair as the waiter put her coffee before her. "I'm no martyr. You can't imagine how I feel when everything goes right and a patient goes home well and happy."

"Yes, I can." He lifted his bourbon. "You forget that no imagination is required when it comes to knowing how you feel. Sometimes I wish to hell it did."

She was abruptly jerked back from the intimacy that had been growing between them. "That's right, I did forget." She looked quickly at the line at the reception. "Harley's at the front of the line. Maybe we'd better join him."

"In a few minutes. Drink your coffee." His lips twisted. "I promise I won't bring up any more subjects that make you feel uneasy."

SIENNA PUT THE NOTE IN front of Molino. "Falbon managed to track them to Biestrop Airport, outside Chantilly. They have no regularly scheduled flights so they must have arranged a charter."

"To where?"

"Falbon's still working on it. It may take awhile. Grady's an expert at covering his tracks."

"Don't tell me that. I need to know now." He reached in the file drawer in his desk and drew out a thick folder. "Is this the most up-to-date information we gathered about possible Devanez family members?"

Sienna nodded. "But we stopped when you decided that Gillem was the one who had the Ledger. And then when we located Megan Blair, we—"

"You shouldn't have stopped. When we located Megan Blair, I had to take care of her, but that didn't mean that I was no longer interested in that damn Ledger."

Sienna shook his head. "I had no intention of not continuing. As far as I'm concerned, the Ledger should be the prime target. But there are too many names and they're spread over a dozen countries. It will take time to—"

"Edmund Gillem visited five countries in the six months before we scooped him up. Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Germany, and Italy. He must have given the Ledger to someone in one of those countries. All we need is a clue and Megan Blair may give it to us." He started to go through the file. "If Falbon does his job."

LUSCIOUS FEATHER BEDS AND silver pots of hot chocolate.

Megan smiled as she came out of the bathroom after taking her shower. The tray with the hot chocolate was sitting on the ottoman in front of the couch and the bed had been turned down to reveal the plump feather mattress and comforter.

"Nice." Grady was leaning against the door jamb. "I ordered the chocolate and let the maid in. Harley would approve of you sampling on his recommendations." His gaze ran over her. "You look cozy."

Megan tightened the tie on the terry cloth robe. "Harley slipped up. He didn't mention the complimentary robes." She moved toward the ottoman and poured a cup of chocolate. "Would you like one?"

"No, thanks. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. I should be receiving the fax from Michael any minute and I'll bring it in to you."

"Good. I called Dr. Gardner and he said there's nothing really to report yet. Phillip is physically the same. But Gardner has a hunch that there's something going on with him."

"What?"

She frowned. "I don't think he knows. I couldn't pin him down. But he says he's developed an instinct with patients like Phillip. He thinks there's something …stirring. He says as soon as he has something concrete, he'll phone me."

"I believe in hunches." He straightened. "I've ordered you soup and a sandwich for later. That's probably all I'll get down you after you start reading the transcript."

She nodded. "This chocolate is pretty rich. I won't be hungry." She wished he would leave. She was too aware of him and was feeling very vulnerable at the moment. The soft rub of the terry against her body as she moved was sensuous and provocative. It was crazy. In this bulky robe she felt more exposed than if she were naked.

Shit, face it. Any touch, any texture would have been arousing right now. She was acting like an animal in heat. She lowered her eyes to the liquid in her cup. "I don't want to be a bother. Suppose I call room service when I'm ready?"

He smiled sardonically. "Why do I feel you're dismissing me?" He shook his head as she started to speak. "It's okay. I'll be a good boy and run along." He started to turn away and then whirled back to her. "The devil I will." He had reached her in three strides. His hands closed on her throat. "Don't freeze on me." His dark eyes were glittering recklessly in his taut face. "I'm not taking much. I just want my hands on you for a minute." His fingers were moving caressingly up and down the sides of her throat. "Then I'll let you send me on my way."

"But I don't want... your hands on me." It was a lie and he had to know it. The flesh of her throat was tingling and every brush of his fingers felt hot, probing. She moistened her lips. "At first, I thought you were going to strangle me."

"I've always thought you have the most beautiful throat on the face of the earth. Long, and soft and your skin is so thin in the hollow that I can see the pulse pounding when you get excited."

"It's a little bizarre having a fetish about necks," she said unevenly. "Are you sure you don't have any relations in Transylvania?"

"Not that I know about. I'm glad you're not struggling very hard," he said thickly. His face was flushed and she could feel the heat his body was emitting. "Thank God. I need this. It's not enough but it's something."

He was now resting his hands on her collarbone encircling her neck and his thumbs rubbing slowly in the hollow. She wanted his hands to go lower, to slip beneath the robe, and touch her.

Her body was readying, her breasts swelling. She instinctively moved closer.

"Damn." His hands tightened around her throat for an instant and then dropped away from her. He stepped back. "No. Later."

She stared at him in shock. "What?"

"You're reading that damn report tonight. You're not going to accuse me later of trying to distract you and establish a beachhead before everything is clear and out in the open."

First, bewilderment and then anger surged through her. "Then why the hell did you touch me, you bastard? Was it a game? Some kind of control move? Who asked you?" She backed away from him. "Get out of here."

"Control move? If I was in control, I'd have had you in bed five minutes ago. That's probably what I should have done," he said through his teeth. "And you would have loved it. You're probably the most sensual woman I've ever met. I should know. I've been linked to you all your adult years. You couldn't help but enjoy it. I just didn't want you looking back later and thinking I'd—Oh, screw it."

The door slammed behind him.

She was shaking, Megan realized. She was hot, yet shivering as if she had a fever. It had to be with anger.

No, she wouldn't lie to herself. She was aching with frustration. Her body was primed, ready... empty. Damn him.

She curled up in the easy chair and tucked her legs beneath her. Don't shake. Don't think how much she wanted it, how much she wanted him. It would go away soon.

And would she ever be able to look at him without remembering his hands on her? She hadn't even gone to bed with him. He'd only petted her, stroked her.

Yet her heart was pounding so hard she was having trouble breathing.

Damn him.

A SOFT KNOCK SOUNDED ON the adjoining door an hour later. She didn't answer.

"Megan. Open the door. I come bearing gifts." Harley's voice.

She got up and opened the door.

He smiled and handed her a folder with a sheaf of papers. "The faxes of the Tribunal Reports you asked Grady for. He asked me to pass them on to you. He said there are a couple more pages, but he'll give them to you after you've read the report."

"Thank you. I didn't expect to see you tonight. You said you'd be too busy."

"I tracked down the first two Renata Wilgers and came up with zilch. However, I have a promising lead that I'm going to follow up on tonight."

"Tonight?"

"This Renata Wilger works for an international brokerage company and from what I've discovered, she's amazing at predicting stock and real estate trends. Wouldn't you say that could reflect one of those so-called talents?"

"Possibly. But would this company be open at night?"

"Her apartment manager said that she's a workaholic and seldom got in before midnight. So I'll be off in an hour or two to contact her. But first Grady asked me to come and have dinner with him and play errand boy." His brows lifted. "I take it you're not joining us for dinner?"

She shook her head. "I need to read these Tribunal Reports."

"From what Grady said, some of the content will give you nightmares. Ring my cell phone if you need a sandwich later. Grady doesn't want you calling room service." He gave her a mock salute and closed the door behind him.

Megan looked down at the folder. She didn't care if the reports were going to be gory and upsetting. At least, it would give her something worthwhile on which to focus. She needed that distraction right now. She sat down, opened the folder, and took out the first fax page.

I write this on the twelfth day of June in the year of our Lord Fourteen hundred and eighty-five by command of Tomds de Torquemada, Inquisidor General, regarding the just and holy investigation of the heretic Devanez family.

"AT LEAST, SHE DIDN'T THROW THE folder back in my face," Harley said as he strolled across the room to where Grady was standing at the minibar. "But she did appear a little tense. What on earth did you do to her?"

"Not nearly enough." He poured himself a drink. "And it's none of your business."

"Of course it is. When I have to delay my own business and rush in and run interference. Am I supposed to stick around to hand her those last pages you told her you'd give her later?"

"No, she'll want to talk to me about them."

"That's a relief." He picked up the phone. "What do you want to order for dinner?"

"Anything." He carried his bourbon to the window and looked down at the street below. There hadn't been any doubt in his mind that she'd take the report. He just hadn't wanted to add fuel to the tinderbox he'd already set in place. He'd been supremely clumsy. Why couldn't he have just either not made any move, or gone for broke and gotten her into bed?

Because he'd waited too long to touch her. Because when she finished reading that report she was going to be questioning everything he'd ever said or done to her. "Just make sure you order plenty of coffee. It's going to be a long night."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ANOTHER DAY OF TORTURE for Ricardo Devanez.

Megan wanted desperately to skip over the brutal details, but the reports had interwoven the questions and answers into the torment inflicted on that poor man.

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She'd give herself a break for a few minutes. The first part of the report had not been too bad, the preliminary heresy investigation into the Devanez family. Painstaking reports from the local priests who'd been ordered to spy on Jose Devanez and all his close and distant relations were repeated. Both the immense wealth the clan had acquired and the stories the peasants told of their strange powers were carefully documented as the Tribunal prepared to act.

Strange powers, indeed, Megan thought. A good many of the stories had to be fabricated. A shape changer who turned into a beast at the full moon, healers, mind readers, a woman whose touch made an old woman go mad, a child who could find water on barren land. With such outrageous stories circulating the countryside, it was no wonder that the family had been put at risk. They had been charitable, peaceful, and tending to keep to themselves, yet even their kindness aroused suspicion. They were accused of deception and secret devil worshiping.

It was when the priests had captured Ricardo Devanez that the report became almost unbearable to read. He had held out for three hideous days of extreme torture before he broke and told them of the exodus of his family from Spain. At the point where she had stopped they were making him talk about the family members and their demonic powers. Jose who could see the future and tell if a venture would be successful, Isabelle, his daughter, who could grow flowers where there was no sunlight or rain, his brother Diego, who could make fire by wishing it to flare.

Was it truth as Ricardo saw it, or telling his torturers what they wished to hear? It didn't matter. Megan had to finish the report. But she'd try to scan the rest and see if there was anything to which she could relate. So far Ricardo had not mentioned any Listeners among the family members.

She opened her eyes and started to read again. Skim, don't absorb that horror.

Ricardo must have been babbling at this point, pouring out his soul. The list of psychic talents was astonishing and Ricardo gave names and examples. If any of these people were captured by Torquemada's agents, there would have been no doubt they would have been burned at the stake.

It was almost at the end of the report, the last page, that Ricardo started to talk about his sister, Rosa, who was a Listener.

Megan stiffened, her gaze flying over the paragraph:

Clearly the most heinous and wicked of all the demons, the priest wrote. Not only did the woman hear voices from hell, but she was a demon incarnate herself. It's fortunate that the subject, Ricardo Devanez, states that only with great rarity was a woman with that power born. Because each Listener almost always is also possessed of the darker curse they are generally known as a Pandora.

Megan froze, memories rushing back to her. The night at the cave when her mother died. Not Pandora. Not Pandora. Not Pandora. Molina questioning Edmund. "Tell me about the Pandoras."

Darker curse? What on earth could be the nature of the curse the priest had written about?

And this report wasn't complete, dammit. There were the last two pages that Grady had withheld from her.

She jumped to her feet, strode to the adjoining door, and pounded on it. When he opened the door, she said, "I want those last two pages. And I want to know about these Pandoras."

"You'll get the pages. But I wanted to be here to answer questions. The Tribunal's description of Pandoras is colorful but hardly unbiased." He stepped aside. "Come in. I'll give you a cup of coffee and we'll talk about it."

"I don't want to talk—Yes, I do." She moved past him and sat down in the easy chair by the window. "Give me that coffee."

He poured a cup from the carafe on the end table and handed it to her. "I'm at your service. Start your questions."

"The priest is talking about a dual 'curse' that's inflicted on women who are Listeners. I know I'm not listening to demons, so that's bullshit. What other hat am I supposed to be wearing? What else is a Listener supposed to be able to do?"

"Not all Listeners."

"Don't quibble. Ricardo says most listeners are also this …Pandora thing. What do they do?"

He was silent a moment, choosing his words. "According to the Tribunal's interpretation of Ricardo's confession, a Pandora is a demon who kills or drives mad."

She stiffened. "And that's obviously bullshit too."

"Not entirely." He added, "But the priest also quoted Ricardo's exact words as well as his own interpretation. Ricardo said that a Pandora was no demon, that she just opened doors."

"What?"

"Pandoras are facilitators. They have the power to release dormant psychic powers in those around them. If a person has even the smallest psychic ability, a Pandora is supposed to be able to trigger that talent."

She stared at him incredulously. "How?"

He shrugged. "Ricardo didn't know. Believe me, the priests spent a long time trying to make him talk about it. They thought they'd found an archdemon in Rosa Devanez. All they could get out of him was that he thought she had to touch them." He paused. "And sometimes it went wrong. Sometimes the person she tried to help break through the barriers went mad. One man was later found dead after she visited him."

Megan frowned. "But why would that happen?"

"Michael and I have discussed it and we think there's a possibility that some minds just can't handle it. There's no picking and choosing which psychic ability. You only get what's inherently there. And even if the subject thinks he wants the power, when it comes, it sometimes completely blows them away. It's too much, too soon. It's like giving a massive dose of heroin to someone who's never had it before."

She shivered. "And why would Rosa want to prance merrily along tossing out psychic powers like Johnny Appleseed did his seeds?"

"Evidently the subjects volunteered and there were some successes. Ricardo said that Rosa was able to help her cousin, Maria, become a great Finder. And her uncle, Franco, suddenly acquired the same gift of prediction Jose possessed after he spent a few days with her."

"Then if there's good and bad, why did they call her a Pandora? According to mythology, wasn't Pandora supposed to have opened a box and released all the troubles into the world?"

"It depends on how deeply you probe into the myth," Grady said. "According to the writings of Hesiod, Pandora was given gifts from all the gods and that's why her name was Pandora, which means all gifts. Hermes gave her cunning, boldness, and charm, Aphrodite gave her beauty, Apollo gave her musical ability and the power of healing, Hera gave her curiosity. Then Zeus threw in mischief and foolishness." He smiled. "But there are feminist scholars who argue that according to earlier myths Pandora was the great goddess who made life and culture possible. They say that accusing Pandora of being responsible for letting loose all the wickedness that made men miserable was just another ploy to make women shoulder the blame for everything that went wrong. There are several comparisons to Eve in the Garden of Eden." He paused. "But everyone agrees that there was hope in that box she opened. If hope was present, then why wouldn't there have been other good spirits as well as evil?"

"Because it's a myth and written by a man." Her lips tightened. "And it was easy to compare that poor Rosa Devanez to Pandora and her release of evil powers into the world, even though Rosa was asked to try to help those people."

"Good point. But Rosa wasn't the first Pandora in the family. According to Ricardo, at the time of the Inquisition the talent had already been passed down through the family for at least a hundred years. A facilitator didn't appear in every generation; it sometimes skipped three, even four. But it was always a woman and she was often a Listener."

"Ricardo told the priests all of those details?"

"I told you, the priests thought they had discovered an archfoe in Rosa Devanez. They wanted to know how to fight the demon when they hunted her down. They spent a long time questioning Ricardo about all the characteristics common to a Pandora."

"And what were they?"

"High energy, extreme empathy, intelligence, deep emotional responses." He paused. "Very strong sensuality. The last characteristic clenched her condemnation in Torquemada's eyes. Ricardo said the family forgave Pandoras for that fault since deep emotion would generate it, but it wasn't acceptable to the Tribunal."

"Is that all? Was there anything else in the report?"

"Only a final condemnation of the Devanez family and a resolution to search out and destroy the demons and heretics among them."

"Then why didn't you give those pages to me with the rest of the transcript? Why did you want to tell me about it yourself?"

"I think you know." He repeated softly, "High energy, extreme empathy, intelligence, deep emotional responses, sensuality. Sound familiar?"

Of course, it sounded familiar. "You're saying that I'm one of those Pandoras." She shook her head. "Even if I believed in this Pandora concept, that doesn't mean I'm one. Don't Listeners have similar characteristics?"

"Yes. On a lesser scale."

"And who knows if that part of Ricardo's confession isn't fabrication? Facilitation is even less believable than other psychic abilities."

"And frightening. The responsibility could be awesome. Touch someone and you create a Frankenstein." He smiled. "Or a Mother Theresa."

"I'm a doctor. I've handled a lot of people in my life and not one has turned into a monster or angel. So I think this so-called gift has passed me by."

"Perhaps. Even the family wasn't entirely sure how the talent worked. Ricardo did say it didn't manifest itself until a woman was in her mid-twenties. It could be that you haven't reached the right stage of development yet. Or maybe certain circumstances have to be present to trigger it."

She shook her head. "You're reaching. It's enough for me to accept being a Listener. I'm not going to let you throw this at me when there's no evidence. I'm not a Pandora."