by R S Penney
“I see,” Leah murmured. “And you came out here?”
“About a year ago,” he explained. “Right after graduation. My sister was already living out here, and that made it convenient. Dad thought I'd have an easier time getting into a school in Ontario.”
Leah looked up to appraise him with those questioning brown eyes. In a way, she was another older sister. “Somehow, I figured,” she replied. “You always put a little too much faith in your natural abilities, Jack, and you never did take school seriously. I get that you were bored but…”
He let her have her moment. Lord knows, she had earned it. Leah had been on the verge of graduating when he started high school, and for some reason that eluded him, she had taken him under her wing. A common theme in their many, many conversations was the need for Jack to straighten up and fly right.
For a moment he had almost forgotten his purpose in coming here. Guilt welled up when he thought about using Leah. There's a life on the line, he reminded himself. She'd want to help if she knew.
A glance over his right shoulder revealed the entrance to the cafeteria's servery, and though he spotted many people in business casual, there was no sign of anyone in a lab coat. Gerald Hamilton was his primary target, but failing that, anyone in Applied Sciences would do.
“Something wrong?”
Leah wore an expression of concern as she watched him, an expression he had seen far too many times. “You seem upset,” she went on. “I didn't mean to insult you…I guess I need to remember that you're not fourteen anymore.”
He offered a sly smile that he hoped would melt away the tension. “Now, it's your turn,” Jack said, arching one eyebrow. “I want to know all the juicy gossip, and if it will make you more comfortable, I can braid your hair.”
“Jack!”
“Okay, okay,” he relented. “We'll restrict ourselves to a pillow fight. But I insist we look at your posters of Ross Lynch and talk about how dreamy he is. If we're going to do this, then damn it, let's do it right!”
People were moving through the cafeteria, some carrying red trays that were laden with food while others flowed toward the exits. In an office like this, people took lunch at almost any hour depending on their schedules. There was a chance he might not be able to catch someone from Applied Sciences.
He couldn't afford to hang around once Leah went back to work; it would raise too many red flags. That meant he had to act, and he had to act soon. At best, he had another forty-five minutes to make a play.
Leah was blushing…blushing so hard her face looked like a ripe tomato. “I'll get us some food,” she said, standing. “You stay here and try not to get in too much trouble.”
Craning his neck to stare at her, Jack felt a grin bloom. “My dear, Leah,” he teased, shaking his head. “It's like you don't trust me. Honestly, how much trouble do you think I could get into?”
“You? Plenty.”
She stalked off at a brisk pace and Jack couldn't help but notice the way she folded her arms and huddled in on herself. Leah had always been shy, but he would have thought leaving high school would have helped with that. Maybe she just wasn't used to the thought of the awkward kid she had tutored in algebra growing up to develop a talent for snark.
Jack pressed a fist to his mouth, shutting his eyes tight. He cleared his throat with some gusto. Easy there, Hunter, he told himself. Just because it makes your life easier to laugh all the time doesn't mean that works for her.
He slipped a hand into his pocket, resting fingertips on the multi-tool that Anna had given him. The small metal disk was cool to the touch. Thanks to the instructions she had programmed, he would only have to push a single button to activate the scanner. Now, all he had to do was get close enough to someone with a key card.
The crowd was thinning. He spotted a trio of middle-aged women at a table in the corner, a man in a suit with silver hair slicked back, two young guys who sat side by side with phones raised up in front of their faces and several others. Any one of them could be part of the Science Department. Or none.
His attention was drawn to a member of the janitorial staff. A tall woman in a blue uniform and matching baseball cap, she carried a spray bottle to one of the vacant tables and began wiping it down. That gave him an idea, one that he quickly filed away in the back of his mind.
Leah returned, carrying two plates of lasagna that looked absolutely delicious. She set one down in front of Jack, then took her seat. “I figured you could use a little protein. That and it's my favourite.”
“Thank you.”
Something in the way that she looked at him reminded him of Lauren. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he had expected in coming here – it had been five years since they'd seen each other – but somehow he thought they would be on equal footing. Leah, it seemed, still thought of him as a fourteen-year-old boy.
Jack sliced through the lasagna with his fork, then stabbed the piece that he had cut off. He popped it into his mouth. Words jumped into his mind, but he stifled them before speaking. The last thing he needed was to confirm her preconceptions by talking with his mouth full.
“You wanted gossip,” Leah said, before bringing a can of soda to her lips. She took a sip. “Let's see, four years at Waterloo. I was dating a guy named Darrel back then. After that, I started job hunting. I was lucky to get a two-year contract here last summer. Been in Ottawa ever since.”
“Mmm.”
“Now, what's this really about?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Jack leaned back. He frowned, keeping his gaze fixed on her. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I saw you were here in Ottawa. I wanted to catch up.”
Leah was smiling into her lap, her cheeks flushed as she shook her head. “Nice try, kid,” she said, scooching closer, “But I've known you long enough to feel it when you're up to no good.”
“Up to no good?”
She looked up to stare at him, and suddenly he really was fourteen again. “Jack, I always found your antics…amusing.” The tone in her voice told him that his antics were anything but. “However, we're adults now, and it's time to put high school behind us. So I ask again, why did you look me up?”
He should have expected this. Leah really was like another sister, and he had been so fixated on his anxieties that he must have been giving off all sorts of tells. How did he explain that he was trying to rescue a sentient being from people who might just be her bosses?
The truth was not an option. So, if Leah saw him as a mischievous little boy with a slingshot in his back pocket, he would just have to conform to her expectations. “Well, I was thinking about I-T,” he said. “I can complete a three-year program, and then I thought maybe you could help me get my foot in the door.”
“You want me to help you find a job.” The pinched expression on her face told him precisely what she thought of that idea. “Honestly, Jack, didn't you once tell me that you were far too quirky for the business world?”
Tossing his head back, Jack rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “That doesn't sound right at all,” he teased. “I'm sure I must have said quarky. I've got lots of quarks to go around. Billions and billions of them.”
Leah slapped a palm over her face, groaning with frustration. “Jack…this is what I'm talking about.” She looked up, blinking at him. “If you want a career in the professional world, you have to stop treating everything like it's some joke that only you get.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. A man in a dark gray suit came striding across the room. He was texting on a phone, pausing just in front of the entrance to the servery.
Something about him was familiar.
Jack shot a glance over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the man's features. Tall with a receding hairline and thin glasses on his face, Gerald Hamilton stood there, staring at his phone.
“You got me, Leah,” he said, standing up. “I'm sorry.”
“Jack-”
He started across the room with his hands
shoved into his pockets, keeping his head down to avoid attention. Now, for the big moment, Jack thought, caressing the multi-tool with his fingers.
The head of the Applied Sciences Division was standing right there, frowning as he read a message on his phone. It was all Jack could do not to stare at the key card hanging from a clip on his belt.
Before he could get close enough, the man turned on his heel and slipped into the servery, vanishing into the crowd of people who stood in front of the counter waiting for lasagna. Would that make this easier or far more difficult? His chest felt tight enough to implode under its own gravitational pull.
If he was clumsy – if his intentions became obvious – he would find himself sitting in the Security Office while the guards prodded at Anna's multi-tool. Then I'll just have to be graceful.
Jack followed him in.
Cut off from the natural light that came through the huge window, the servery felt clean and sterile under the glare of fluorescent bulbs. A long metal counter to his right was operated by women in black uniforms who doled out large pieces of cooked lasagna to customers with red trays. Gerald Hamilton wasn't among them.
He stood at a table in the far end of the room, hunched over as he poured himself a cup of coffee. The man's posture was stiff. Nervousness? If anyone here knew about the Nassai, he surely did.
Pressing his lips together, Jack stared into the distance. He narrowed his eyes. You can do this, Hunter, he thought to himself. Just keep your cool and make it look like an accident.
He pulled out the multi-tool.
Gerald Hamilton was still hunched over, muttering to himself as he inspected the contents of his cup. As Jack made his way across the room, the other man let out a sigh and set his cup down on the table. “Lukewarm…” he said with enough volume for the entire kitchen staff to hear. “Is fresh coffee too much to ask for?”
Jack crept closer.
Gerald Hamilton spun around just in time for them to collide, the impact throwing them both to the floor with Jack sprawled out on top of him. In that moment of confusion, Jack waved the multi-tool over the other man's key card and heard a satisfying beep! The scan had been successful!
Jack sat up, pressing a palm to his forehead. He winced and let out a painful little groan. “I'm sorry…” he muttered. “I was just completely lost in thought. I must not have seen you there.”
Hamilton was lying on his back with his face scrunched up, a soft wheeze escaping him. “Yeah, it's fine…” he said, getting to his feet. “Just…watch where you're going next time, okay?”
He offered Jack his hand.
Taking it, Jack slipped the multi-tool into his pocket and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet. A small crowd had gathered around the two of them, concern on their faces. That was good. So far as he could tell, everyone thought this was an accident. Focus on the embarrassment. Everyone thought he was a clumsy idiot.
“I'm sorry about that,” Jack said again.
“Just…watch where you're going.”
“Thanks.”
With that, he left the servery and returned to the cafeteria's seating area. There were people sitting at tables with their heads turned, no doubt intrigued by all that commotion. Jack let them gawk. His job was complete. If he could just get out of here without having another incident, he'd be fine. The rest was up to Anna.
He found Leah waiting at their table, watching him with concern in those big dark eyes of hers. She blinked a few times. “What was all that about?” she asked. “I thought you were getting coffee.”
“It's lukewarm,” he replied. “Really, is fresh coffee too much to ask for?” Before she could chime in with a response, Jack went right on talking. “Listen, Leah, I just got a call from my sister. I have to run.”
“Oh…all right.”
“Thank you for a wonderful lunch,” he said, forcing a smile. “Let's keep in touch. I would love to do this again soon.”
“Me…” she looked truly perplexed, “me too.”
Jack offered an awkward hug, then slipped away down the corridor that led back to the lobby. Every second he spent in this building only increased the risk of being caught and having everything go to hell.
When he finally made it to the door, he had to stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief. Home free, Jack thought, stepping out onto the street. Well, An, I came through for you. Now, it's your turn.
Wesley Pennfield stood in front of the window in his office with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out at a forest of skyscrapers that tried to pierce the clouds. Tall and slim, he had a manner about him that made his pressed black suit seem more like a bullet-proof vest. “Have you conducted your initial analyses?” the man asked without so much as a flinch. “What can you tell me about the Nassai?”
Gerald Hamilton stood in the middle of the room with his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacket, trying to keep his face smooth despite the anxiety in his belly. After fifteen years of working with this man, he still felt uneasy.
Gerald bit his lip, then lowered his eyes to the carpeted floor. He felt deep creases stretch across his brow. “I have performed some…preliminary tests,” he began. “And I can confirm that the-”
“Only preliminary?”
A flush reddened Gerald's face. He shook his head in frustration. “Just the preliminary tests,” he managed without too much difficulty. “I don't want to risk any harm to the creature.”
Wesley Pennfield just stood there with his back turned, refusing to budge so much as an inch. The man's inability to acknowledge him left Gerald feeling queasy. “I would suggest you accelerate your timetable.”
“There may be difficulties in doing so. I believe-”
Wesley Pennfield turned.
The man scowled as he studied Gerald through the thin lenses of his glasses. A reaction? That couldn't be good. Pennfield was a glacier: cool, calm and reserved. He only deigned to interact with his subordinates when such interaction was truly necessary, and if you forced him to resort to such measures, well…it usually didn't turn out well. “I am uninterested in the details. Will the creature survive the process?”
“I'm not certain.”
Pennfield dropped into his chair with a sigh, resting his elbows on the surface of his desk. He laced his fingers and touched his nose to his thumb. “Need I remind you of what your purpose here is?”
“No, sir.”
“Then provide me with the information that I need,” Pennfield snapped. “Tell me if the Nassai will survive the process.”
As if Gerald could just conjure that information into existence! It was difficult for him to keep a cool head, but losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere. “The data we have is sketchy at best.”
Pennfield turned his head. Just a glance, but when the man's eyes fell on him, fear seized Gerald's heart in icy fingers. “You have forty-eight hours to present me with a better answer,” he replied. “By that time, one of my associates will have arrived, and we will begin the procedure with or without your consent. The Nassai's life is in your hands.”
Chapter 12
Jack decided to take a shift at the restaurant after returning the multi-tool to Anna. With the insanity of the last few days, he needed something mundane, something simple to restore his sense of normalcy. He wasn't a spy; committing what was essentially a kind of industrial espionage left him feeling a little shaken. Fortunately, he'd gotten away with no real problems.
Four hours of waiting tables, mollifying disgruntled customers and listening to his co-workers banter was almost enough to make him forget that his whole world had been upended over the course of two days. Still, his legs were aching. Amazing how a couple days of rest could make you forget what it was like to work for minimum wage and tips.
The door to his apartment confronted Jack with a pinprick of light passing through the small peephole. After a long evening shift, all he wanted was to flop down on his bed, but if Anna was on a mission…
He pushed
his way inside.
The familiar red-bricked walls set his nerves at ease. Curtains were drawn around the bed in the corner, but the light above his couch was still on. Anna was still awake and reading, it seemed.
Chewing on his lower lip, Jack shut his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose. “Oh, my aching feet,” he said, stepping inside. “I'm telling you, kiddo, thank your holy companion you don't live on this world.”
Anna sat on the couch with his e-reader held up in front of her face. She let out a slow, thoughtful grunt. “Good evening,” she said at last with a curt bob of her head. “I'm sorry your night was difficult.”
From this angle, Jack could only see the back of her head, but he could pick up that sense of skeptical apprehension in her voice. Just what had she been doing over the last few hours? “I'm surprised you're still awake.”
“I've been studying your literature,” she replied without turning. “I hope you don't mind that I used some of your…Internet connection. I wanted to understand your people from a cultural perspective. I have to say, some of the things that authors write about are a little disconcerting.”
Pressing a fist to his mouth, Jack shut his eyes and cleared his throat. “Well, I don't know about you,” he said, approaching the couch. “But I consider A Love Spell for Buffy to be nothing but tasteful.”
Anna glanced over her shoulder, then arched a thin eyebrow. She held his gaze for one very long moment.
“I'm joking.”
He fell onto the couch with a sigh, tilting his head back. The dull throbbing in his temples made him want to pass out right there. “What have you been reading?” he asked. “If it's Fifty Shades of Grey, then I'd like to take this opportunity to renounce my status as a member of the human species.”
Anna smiled into her lap, those thin strands of red hair dangling and framing her face. “I'm talking about the fascination with vampires,” she said, nodding once. “Just how is sneaking into a girl's room to watch her sleep a sign of affection?”
“You got me there.”