"There's the one in the bathroom upstairs. And I think I saw a broken-off side mirror from a car up there in a corner. I'll go check it out." What a nice brother.
Greggory comes back with a broken car mirror for me. Who knew that someone's broken junk would help me out so much. I'm able to smooth out my eye makeup much better now. "Do you know where Pine Street is, Greggory?"
"Yeah, it's over a mile from here. Is that where your friend is?"
"Yep. Let's walk."
He shakes his head. "Uh, no. That's a long walk and you don't want to sweat your disguise off coming back. I'll drive. Actually, it's not far; you should drive."
That suggestion stops me in my tracks. "Aren't you tired of putting your life in your hands?"
Greggory laughs. "If I can put an illegal video on the news, I can survive a mile with you behind the wheel."
"They sound about equal on the risk scale to me."
"Whatever. Let's go."
We arrive at the only red house on Pine Street in one piece, despite my poor driving, and knock on the door. The lady from yesterday, Laura, answers it. "El-Edith, you came! Come in. How can I help you?"
After the door clicks shut, I ask quietly, "Can you disguise me like an elderly woman?"
Laura Beckman's eyebrows scrunch together for a second as she looks at me, but then she nods. "Absolutely. You came to the right house."
Chapter 23
My new friend has her 70-year-old mother living with her, so she happens to have everything I need, complete with a gray, curly wig. Apparently, her mom is too lazy to do her hair sometimes, so she just slips the wig on instead. My wrinkles look a tad fake to me, so I am depending on my borrowed grandma glasses to hide them.
"Laura, tell me honestly, how old do I look?"
She tilts her head as she looks at me. "I'd say late-sixties."
I take the ancient frames off my face and look at them. "Will your mother be missing her glasses?"
Laura shrugs. "Well, they are her actual glasses, but she's happy to lend them to you so she can get her grandson back."
"I will bring them back tonight when I'm done."
"Or tomorrow. Don't rush on our account."
I look at my friend appreciatively. "Your generosity is so touching. Does anything look off about me?" I turn around in a circle.
"Well, you need to walk slower and make your voice more squawky."
I hunch my back slightly and let my jaw hang open. "Okay, like thi-ss?"
She giggles. "Yeah. That's perfect." My friend looks at my brother who looks way younger than me for once. "Do you need a disguise, Greggory?"
He shakes his head dismissively. "No, I'm not going. I think having both of us in that man's office will be too risky."
Laura nods in agreement. "Okay. Elira, you know that the complex chief is going to try to talk you out of changing the law, right?"
I nod seriously. "Yeah, I know. We won't let him push us around. I hear his own staff is having a hard time watching the children work dangerous jobs. Secrecy has been his power all these years. Now that everyone knows how he's treating their family and neighbors in there, he doesn't have a leg to stand on and he knows it."
"Exactly. Don't let him fool you into thinking he has the power."
I think about that for a moment. "I won't." The clock on her kitchen wall chimes. "I better go meet Brock. Thank you for everything, Laura."
I have to remember to act old as I climb into Greggory's car, so I won't look suspicious. He laughs at me as I take forever to climb into the passenger seat. "Would Granny like to stop and get a hamburger before we meet Brock?"
I glare at him over my glasses. "You can just shut up, sonny."
•
Brock is waiting in a fancy black car as we pull into the museum parking lot. Greggory squeezes my hand before I get out of his car. "I'll be waiting for you here at 9:00. Don't act nervous in front of him, and don't react if he threatens to do something to your friends."
It feels like ice water has just splashed me in the face. "Do you think he'll do that?"
Greggory's face is blank. "You need to go. Be strong, envision yourself leading your friends out of the complex, and you'll find a way to make it happen."
I take a deep breath and let it out. "Okay." I move slowly and stoop my back a little bit as I switch cars. Brock is the only one in the back of the car; the driver and Brock's bodyguard are in the front. My brother smiles at me. "You're looking fine today, Elira."
I glare at him over my glasses. "Everyone is a comedian today. Is anyone else coming with us?"
"Yes. My personal assistant is meeting us there and we're picking up Damon Bellvue on the way."
I remember Ernestine mentioning him. "Why Damon? Your campaign is over now; wasn't that the only thing he was hired for?"
My brother takes a long drink of some kind of weird-colored health shake. "Originally, yes. He has been on the phone with me every day the last week with some top-notch ideas. He hasn't missed a beat with what's going on in the public mind. Would you like some of my mineral shake? It keeps me awake and sharp even with no sleep."
I shudder at the color of it. "No thanks. So did you hire him permanently?"
"Yes."
I'm not sure how I feel about that. I like Damon a lot, maybe too much to be good for my relationship with Garth. I lean over and whisper to my fancy senator brother, "Do these two guys know who I really am?"
Brock finishes his shake. "Yes. I told them yesterday and they have signed a contract with me promising they won't tell anyone who you really are. So, you can trust them." Brock's bodyguard turns around and waves at me with half a smile.
I raise my eyebrows at Brock. "Okay, if you say so." We pull into the parking lot of a huge building with lots of windows and doors. I never imagined Damon to be rich enough to have a house bigger than my parents. "Wow. Damon has a huge house."
Brock looks at me and grins. "This is an apartment building. He only lives in a little section of this thing."
"Oh, I've heard of that. Maxine lives in one of these."
My brother shakes his head at me. "You crack me up. Here comes Damon."
Damon opens the door next to me, and I have to scoot over so he can slide in. He looks at me questioningly for a minute and then he starts to laugh. "What is your name today? Doris?"
Brock chuckles a little himself as he slides a name badge necklace over my head. "She's going to be Eloise, my loyal aide today. Here's one for you too, Damon. You get to keep your name."
"Thank you, I'm rather attached to it."
Brock laughs and wipes his tired-looking eyes. "Here is the game plan, you two. We will meet the complex chief in his office at the complex."
I feel like I've been blind-sided for a minute. "Wait, we have to go inside the complex for this meeting?"
Brock looks at me like this is obvious information. "Y-es. Is that going to be a problem?
I try to calm my anxiety. "No, I'll be fine." Maybe Ernestine did tell me this. I feel flustered.
Brock opens his briefcase as he continues. "Good. Anyway, I expect him to put us through a long, heroic tale of giving the 'lesser people' of the country a purpose in life and taking good care of them. We are not to believe a word of it."
"I can do that," I mumble through my teeth.
"I will demand an answer for all of the inhumanity we saw on the tape. He will try to give us a good answer which, of course, we will not believe. I will then tell him about the hundreds of people who have called, sent letters, and personally visited my office to tell me of the heartache the Complex Law has put them through."
"May I have some time to give him some statistics when he doesn't believe that people want a change?" Damon asks.
"Yes. That's why you're here."
I look from Damon's smiling face to my brother's determined one. "Why am I here?"
"To shmooze him with your good looks," Damon says with a wink.
"Stop it."
He squeezes my knee. "He's an older guy, and you're the cutest grandma I've ever seen."
I feel my cheeks turning red. "Seriously, stop it."
Brock clears his throat. "You're actually here to keep him from telling me lies. You know the complex better than any one else on my team. I may not recognize how deep the lies go."
"Okay."
Brock looks out the window and smiles at us as the car comes to a halt. "We're here." He clicks something by the handle of his briefcase.
I look at the handle curiously. "What did you just click?"
Brock smiles. "I just turned on the camera that Maxine used to incriminate the complex."
I smile so big, I can feel my makeup-covered cheeks touching my granny glasses. "Nice!"
My feet shake in my ugly shoes as I slide out of the car behind Damon. The mammoth concrete building looms above me, making me feel small and inconsequential. Why did I think I could do this? This man wants to squish me, and he can, here, in his own domain. A tall, skinny man with straight black hair and glasses joins us in front of our car. "Damon and Eloise, this is my personal assistant, Jiang. He has a photographic memory and knows the details of every law in this country inside and out. He will be a great help to us." Jiang bows his head in respect to Brock. We walk down a long sidewalk to a big door with armed complex guards on each side. I wonder if they are complex-dwellers or normal employees.
One of them speaks to us in a higher voice than we are expecting. "Hello, my name is Guard Venus. What is your business at the Complex of Undesirables today?" I cringe as I remember my last encounter with Guard Venus.
Brock looks into the black visor of her helmet and says, "We're here to meet with the complex chief by his invitation."
A deep voice comes from the other white-clad guard. "Yes, you are expected. We will have to check you for weapons." Obviously, both of these guards are employees. They must place the guards who have always lived in the complex in the back, away from the road.
Brock doesn't look enthusiastic about this. "I'm a politician and these three are my aides. Check us if you wish, but the only person who might have a weapon is my bodyguard."
The guards push Damon and me against the wall and feel up and down our bodies for weapons. I watch Damon's eyes fill with anger as the male guard's hands get near my chest. "I'm sorry, but is it necessary to manhandle a mature woman like that?"
Venus looks in Damon's briefcase, and the male guard looks in my granny purse. "You two are fine. Move aside."
Damon whispers in my ear while we watch Brock and Jiang get searched, "What a jerk. Are you okay?"
I glare at the male guard as he puts his hands all over my nicely-dressed brother. "I'm fine."
Brock's bodyguard goes last and he has to leave three guns and a knife at the door. They better give them back when we leave.
We hear an audible click as Guard Venus opens the door for us. Her smooth voice directs us. "Someone should be along to collect you. Walk straight ahead and take the first door on the right."
My brother says, "Thank you." I doubt they hear him, because the door slams behind us.
My hungry eyes take in everything around me. I doubt I've been on this end of the complex before, even though I lived in this building for 14 years. It's very similar to the plain gray walls outside the glass dorm, except there are more signs on the doors. The one we are told to enter says, 'Office of the Complex Chief.' Across the hall, the door says 'Complex Employment Office.'
The pretty blonde assistant I remember following the complex chief into the glass dorm before my escape smiles at us from behind a desk. "May I help you?"
My brother smiles in his charming way. "Yes. We are here to see Mr. Athill, the complex chief. I am Brock Hamble, and these are my aides and my bodyguard."
"He is expecting you in the conference room. Please follow me."
We follow the bouncy blonde into a long, narrow room with an equally long, thin table in the center of it. The thin dark face of the complex chief watches us from the head of the table without expression. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the famous Brock Hamble."
Brock walks all the way to the head of the ever-long table and shakes the complex chief's hand. The man I grew up despising doesn't smile; he doesn't even move more than his arm during the greeting. Brock acts like he just received a warm welcome from a friend and sits down on the left-hand side of the table. The rest of us just sit down without attempting to shake the somber man's hand. I sit as far away from him as I can. He intimidates me, and I don't want him to see my fake wrinkles.
His yellow teeth stand out as he says, "You know, of course, why I arranged this meeting."
Brock grins and shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid I don't."
Mr. Athill glares at my brother. "You lied in this little pamphlet." The complex chief pulls the pamphlet I gave him at the mall out of his pocket and slaps it on the table. "A girl with short blonde hair gave this to me at your campaign booth in the mall."
Brock fakes a look of concern on his face. "Oh dear, you voted for me because you thought I was neutral to the Complex Law."
Spit flies out of Mr. Athill's mouth. "No, I did not vote for you!"
Brock patiently wipes a fleck of spit off his cheek and folds his hands in front of himself. "If you are not a disgruntled supporter, then why am I here?"
"Did your sister, Elira Hamble, give me this pamphlet?" The man stabs his finger so forcefully into the pamphlet on the table, I'm afraid his thick, yellow fingernail might have gouged the table beneath it.
Brock picks a piece of lint off his sleeve as he says, "Why does it matter which of my volunteers gave it to you?"
"If I let her within arm's reach of me and didn't haul her back here where she belongs, I will never forgive myself."
Brock's eyes grow serious. "Let's cut to the chase. I assume that you are not happy that I plan to disband the Complex Law."
Mr. Athill chuckles to himself. "You are a dreamer, Mr. Hamble. The people of our country cannot support the lesser-functioning inhabitants of this building. I have at my disposal millions of dollars flowing through these walls to keep these deformed people alive and strong enough to work. Do your voters have millions of dollars to feed, clothe and house them?"
Brock raises his eyebrows. "Families will take care of their own."
"Not every person in this complex is as high functioning as your sister, nor has living family who will claim them."
"Then you can offer them a job here."
I clear my throat loudly. "Mr. Hamble, sir..."
"Eloise, let me finish. Under my proposed plan, those of adult age who are not claimed by their families will be given the option to leave on their own or to stay here to work for pay. All behavior drugs and hormone inhibitors will be removed from this building, of course."
"So you recognize that half of the streamlined manufacturing in this country happens in the city complexes."
"Yes, I do. The labs and machinery in this building won't go to waste, but people will be paid to work here, if they can stomach the place."
The complex chief leans toward my brother. "Unwanted little children can't work. What will happen to them?"
Brock doesn't bat an eye. "They won't stay here with you, they will be placed for adoption."
The grouchy, black-haired man throws his hands in the air. "No one will want them."
Brock smiles. "You underestimate humanity."
"I doubt it. I also doubt that you can get a majority to vote for this ridiculous plan of yours."
Brock shrugs. "I only need 51%. I got it once; I think I can g
et it again."
Rage fills the complex chief's eyes. "Do you know how many people you will put out of work if this happens? I employ over 200 people in this complex alone, and Herrington's complex row employs over 100 more."
Brock leans forward seriously. "Very true. Remind me again how many people work here for free?"
The man grows silent and scowls at my brother. "My employees won't vote for your anarchy and neither will any complex employee anywhere else. This is an uphill battle that you can't win. Just give up now."
Brock shakes his head. "Uh, no. I fully intend to shut you down within the year."
"Ahh, your little boy." The complex chief drums his fingers on the table for a minute. "Could your staff leave for a few minutes, so I can speak to you privately?"
My brother doesn't even flinch. "No, anything you want to say to me has to be said to all of us."
The complex chief leans forward. "I want what I'm about to say to be off the record." He looks pointedly at Damon, who has been taking careful notes throughout the meeting.
Brock smiles almost imperceptibly at the complex chief. He turns to Damon. "Put your pen down, Damon. This is not to be recorded. Do you give me your word, young man?"
Damon looks at the handle of Brock's briefcase and nods. "Yes, Mr. Hamble. You have my word."
Mr. Athill folds his hands in front of himself and lowers his voice. "Listen, Mr. Hamble. I could possibly pull some strings for your little boy. In fact, I will guarantee that your little boy will be able to stay in your home hidden from the world-if you leave the Complex Law alone."
Brock raises his eyebrows and shoots a quick look at me. "Huh, that is an interesting offer. I could keep my son prisoner in my own house and continue to worry that my escapee sister will be recaptured and brought back to this drug-controlled sweatshop, or I could repeal the Complex Law and both of the 'flawed' people I love, plus all the fine people who live here now could be free. Hmm. I choose to repeal the law." Brock stands up and gathers his things. "Thank you for inviting me to this enlightening meeting. Damon, did you get good notes on everything our fine friend said before the special favor was brought up?"
The Complex Leader Page 13