by Mary Weber
Zain kept his gaze on the arena. “See, now what I’ve been trying to figure out is why a mother—even one such as yourself, no offense—would let her daughter take the fall for an explosion she didn’t orchestrate. Unless, of course, the girl really did do it. Problem is . . .” He paused. “I don’t think she did.”
A loud burst of laughter carried through the CEO cabana’s linen divider as Inola stared at this man who was as surprising as he was intuitive. How had he drawn these conclusions? Who had he been talking to?
“Not that your belief matters, but for the sake of politeness—why do you think so?” she asked.
The man moved his gaze to Gaines and Hart, who appeared to be wrapping up their conversation. Hart was standing and speaking. Gaines didn’t appear too thrilled.
“Because I watched your face.”
Inola froze.
“The other night in the session hall,” he said. “When your daughter’s vid came on the screen, I watched it. The girl was scared and angry, but not guilty. And so were you.” He lifted his gaze to the ice-planet shadowing the day-lit moon between slats of the massive telescreens spanning the Colinade. “The thing is, I know what my Corp player did. I’ve studied the evidence.” He rubbed his jawline. “But I also know for a fact my Corp had nothing to do with his actions—and, in fact, we were set up.
“But you?” He eyed her. “One of the most powerful CEOs in the world—refusing to defend her daughter? Makes me think that’s a coldhearted mom right there.” He glanced back over toward CEO Hart who was just leaving Corp 30’s cabana. Then down to the empty Delonese spot. “Unless that powerful mom was afraid of something far worse than losing the lives of her children.”
Inola felt the blood drain from her face. Gaines and Hart would put a price on his head if they knew this. If Lord Ethos heard this . . . “I’m going to suggest you be very careful with your next few words,” she whispered, her skin cold in the suddenly chilly breeze.
Zain turned and assessed her. “I see,” he said quietly.
“What do you want?” she hissed.
“I want to know that when all of this”—he looked around—“hits the fan, you’ll have my back. In the UW Council meetings and with the Delonese. I know you have connections with all of them, and I refuse to get thrown under the bus along with your kids. And I can only hope that, in the meantime, your conscience regarding whatever’s going on—which likely affects the rest of us large scale—outweighs your pride.”
With a nod he turned and strode from the dais amid the CEOs erupting into fresh howls as they cursed Corp 17’s gamers for the dry lightning bolts they’d just coded in on the other teams’ players.
Inola watched until he disappeared past the host of security.
“Interesting bloke,” Jerrad said in her earcom.
“You got all that?”
“His voice scans say he wasn’t lying.”
“Did you get anything text-wise off my handscreen?”
“Nope. Your bugger’s a genius.”
Yeah, they are.
She went to leave the dais when a cheer went up for player 13, and a group began chanting his name. Matthers. She sniffed. Just another pawn, like they all were apparently.
Huh. Maybe Zain was right. As pawns they could have each other’s backs, or go down in flames. Either way, things would hit the fan. Not that her conscience outweighing her pride would change that fact, but—
“Behind you,” Jerrad said.
“Your Ms. Gaines tells me you’re unhappy with our decision,” a voice whined.
Inola’s skin crawled. She didn’t move as the speaker’s hot, clammy breath floated across her neck. Just kept her gaze level as she turned and knocked his arm to walk by him. “CEO Hart, I’m not in the mood right now.”
He stepped in front of her. His wet tone took on a chuckle, almost enough to hide the hint of nerves she detected. “Ah, but we’ve been partners far too long for me to feel threatened by you, Inola.” He patted her shoulder, then eased back. “Just checking on you.”
“Nothing’s changed, if that’s your concern.”
He peered toward the arena. “And there’s the CEO I know. Someone else might be shaken—but you’re as steady as they come, my dear.” He turned and snapped his fingers for a waiter in the shadows, whom he’d apparently dragged with him. “My usual.”
Returning his gaze to Inola, his expression eased into one of contentment. “So, where is she in all this?”
“Sofi? You know as much as I do.”
“No one knows their daughter like a mother.” His jowls moved when he grinned. “So humor me.”
“She’s on Delon searching for Shilo, whom she believes was taken there. Beyond that, I’m in the dark.”
“Uh-huh.” He tipped his head and cracked his neck before looking back down on the players. “You place any bets on the kids down there?”
The handscreen vibrated again. “Never. You know that.”
He nodded. “Good, good. Never a wise idea to bet against the player you need most.” He turned as his waiter strode up with a cushioned seat and set it down for him before slipping away. Hart sat. “You know, the thing about games, Inola, is that it’s not always the best who win. No. It’s the player who can outlast the others. See my guy there . . .”
Inola shifted to see the Corp 13 player he was pointing at just standing aside while the other players took down a howler. “He’ll win today and move on to the Five tomorrow. Because he knows how to outlast.”
The waiter reappeared and handed Hart a napkin, then set a small table in front of him, loaded with two plates overflowing with piles of bird wings and crawfish.
Of all the things to have somehow survived World War III’s nuclear holocaust, the river bugs had proven the more hearty. They’d almost seemed to thrive on it. Inola wondered if the things still had radiation, despite all the environmental restoration the Delonese had assisted in. Or at least the ones Hart was slurping on.
One could hope.
Inola’s handscreen vibrated in her jacket. She pulled it out and set the white noise perimeter while he tapped at his own. Then glanced at the message. It read:
Ask if he or Gaines poisoned Ambassador Lee.
“Back to your daughter.” Hart lifted his napkin to wipe his chin. “I must admit it surprised me to hear Lord Ethos say in the conference vid that Sofi may hold the very value they need. You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Inola.”
She slid the screen behind her back and kept her face still. “I wasn’t certain. Neither are they.”
“Oh, they seemed quite certain to me.”
The screen vibrated. She could practically feel it saying, Ask him.
He looked straight at her. “Have you heard from Sofi or Ambassadors Miguel or Claudius since they’ve been on the planet?”
“No.”
“Was it me or did Miguel look a tad uptight in that call?” Hart waved a bird leg he’d just picked up. “No matter. Alis and the Delonese will take care of things.”
“Just like Gaines took care of Ambassador Lee on Friday night so Alis could replace him? Or was that you who poisoned him?”
He coughed mid-swallow and patted his napkin to his face as it turned the slightest shade pale. “Gaines’s men, obviously. You and I are the same, Inola. We never get our hands dirty if we can help it. Which is why things don’t always get done exactly right. Like that fool, Heller. Kid royally messed it up.” He grunted as Inola’s spine went cold. “Never send a boy to do an adult’s job.”
“You heard Lord Ethos, Hart. He will use Earth for his own gain. He changed the rules on us—that doesn’t concern you even the slightest?”
“Oh, it concerns me. But think of the good we’ve done. The cures we’re gaining. Your Corp is leading the world in health breakthroughs. And now my Corp is starting to receive some of those benefits too now that the extra security we’ve provided your Corp has proved financially worthwhile. Soon we’ll be leading in technology. Let�
�s not underestimate what we can do with that.”
Inola took one last glance at the FanFight arena, which had morphed to the next round—a vampire castle, from the look of it. “Hart, you’ll have to excuse me—”
“And tomorrow,” he interrupted, “when the ambassadors arrive home, all will be right again in the world. Clear consciences. Tied-up loose ends. Business back to usual. And we’ll resume our program. I’ve already got my company working on a false positive for the Altered invention. Should be ready to release among the public in a few weeks, which means we can begin work on creating our own Altered human hybrids.”
Her breath left her lungs. What did he just say?
He leaned over his plate and lowered his voice. “Look, we both know we want our relations with the Delonese to succeed. But we’re also smart enough to have a backup plan. We can be at their mercy while also equipping ourselves. And to do that, I say we need to be able to compete at their level. If they made Sofi and Shilo into superior humans, then so can we. And on that note—I’d like you to consider making samples of their blood you have on file available to my team. We need to get on this, Inola.”
Inola’s mind was whirling a mile a second. He couldn’t be serious. Except, of course, he was.
She offered a tight smile. “You want to play their game? Sounds inspiring, Hart. I’m glad you’re feeling so confident.” She pulled out her screen and glanced at it as if she’d just received a note. Which, in fact, she had. It was the same unknown source.
If you want to help your kids, head for the black markets.
She swallowed and blinked.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, of course.” She swiped it shut. “Just a note from the office regarding the new bone-growth hormone we’ve been working on. I have to go.”
“Don’t make me nervous, Inola. I’d hate to lose confidence in our relationship.”
“Your impotent confidence is not my problem, Hart.” She strolled away, barely hiding her disgust as the sound of cracking crawfish followed her off the dais and the announcer’s voice reminded people once again to vote on which celebrity, soldier, or politician they’d like to see in tomorrow’s bloody fight finale arena.
14
SOFI
Sofi stared at Heller’s dead body lying crumpled below in the creamy fog and soft snow. Her hand crinkled around his note. She felt numb. Distant. Like her mind couldn’t keep up with reality. That or her emotions were simply shutting down from the shock. What have they just done?
As if in irony, a new tinkle of music struck up. Swells and sweet drops of fancy notes in the fancy forestry room with its fancy human food that stood in sick contrast to the murder Ethos and the others had just orchestrated.
Sofi bit her cheek and looked at the lot of them. The ten silent Delonese didn’t even seem bothered. Just moved and shifted around her, staring, studying—the same expressionless faces she’d seen among a hundred others last night as they sang and danced in their beautiful domed hall and chanted about their belief in unity and community.
What a load of cripe. She stared right back. Only to realize they weren’t just watching her—they were, along with Ethos, waiting. For what—an answer? A reaction? In that case, she’d give them one.
She lifted her gaze to the tree-lined horizon, then beyond to the moon filling up half the sky. And cleared her throat. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Pardon?” Lord Ethos frowned.
“My answer is no. To helping you.”
“Girl-Sofi, I’ve just given you an opportunity to save the children. And I shouldn’t need to assure you that after them, the ambassadors will be killed as well. I think you’d be wise—”
“To listen,” a child’s voice interrupted. It was the same girl who’d spoken to her and Danya in the walkway. She looked hollow eyed and nervous. “Lest they do the same to us.”
Sofi flinched as an image of Shilo flashed in her mind. What was she thinking? This was a child’s life—these were the children she’d been trying to save. How could she not help them?
She glanced from the girl to Ethos, considering how to answer, when she caught the slight flicker across his face. A pleased expression. Gleeful almost.
Her hand squeezed harder around that note.
Oh.
He was using them to get at her. Just like he would be using them for far worse as soon as he got what he wanted.
Because he’d done it with Heller.
She swallowed, ignored the pleading eyes, and shook her head at Ethos.
One of the ten Delonese slid in front of her and peered in her face. “You would sacrifice more of Earth’s children then?” He glanced smugly around at the others. “I find that fascinating. If not incongruous.”
The music trilled, which gave the odd sense of agreement and made the room’s atmosphere feel strangely alive. Overstimulated. Making her nerves hate this place even more.
Sofi kept her words steady, even as her gut ached and crawled and her mind fought to call their bluff. “I think we all know you have no plans to let them go anyway.” She shifted back to viewing her friend’s lifeless body. “So, in my mind, a quick death would be a flat-out gift of mercy for those children.” Her tone almost cut out. She wished it would cut out but forced it stronger. “Please feel free to carry on with it.”
Ambassador Ethos actually blinked for the second time since she’d been here, and suddenly Sofi’s vision grew fuzzy. As if a layer of static slipped over it. She frowned and batted her lashes, and then her eyesight cleared just as Ethos licked his lips with a too-pink tongue.
He nodded at the group of them. “In that case . . . prepare them for the medical procedures,” he said under his breath.
At least, she thought he did. She stiffened and waited for Danya or Alis to react, until it occurred to her they were no longer standing nearby. The guards had taken them somewhere while she’d been staring at Heller’s corpse. Cripe.
“Did you hear me, Girl-Sofi?” Ethos spoke louder. “I said come, let us show you more. I promise, you’ll enjoy this.”
Ice shot up her skin. “Wait—”
Her voice broke off. As if the music and atmosphere were chemically overriding her mind and making her muscles and throat seize. She glanced down at the little girl. What have I just done? Those kids. Claudius and Danya.
Miguel.
“Lord Ethos,” she blurted out. “You know I accessed your system with the help of others. What more do you need?”
Too late. The ambassador strode from the room, his silver robe swishing behind him in that uncanny sound of a snake. Followed by the entire group of ten Delonese, with their plasticlike smiles.
A moment later the four guards surrounding her forced her into the bright hall before prodding her into an elevator. Once entered, the thing flipped in a half circle to face the opposite direction, then zoomed them to the ground level.
An elongated second slipped by during which the doors remained closed. Sofi clenched her fingers until her palm flared from the burn she’d gotten on the vat back in the med room as Heller’s note itched against her skin. She slid her hand against her waist and discreetly flipped it up to read. She opened her mouth. Shut it.
The metal elevator glided open and a guard jostled her arm, causing the paper to slip to the floor as he shoved her forward into a small shuttle bay like the one they’d been in less than three hours ago.
The message had stated, “We’ll all die anyway, just don’t make it in vain. The access codes are inside.”
Inside what? The note? She started to turn back—to grab for the tiny scrap—but it’d already fluttered farther as the Delonese moved her like a sea.
What did he mean? Inside where? And where’d the little girl go? What was being done to those kids and the ambassadors?
Where was Danya?
Sofi swallowed back a bubble of rising vomit. They weren’t getting out of here. They likely weren’t even making it past today. They’d all been doome
d the moment they’d looked below the planet’s surface. And Heller was right.
Now it was simply a game of not letting their deaths be in vain.
“The codes are inside.”
She inhaled and looked up. She needed access to one of their portals.
Ahead of her, Ethos and the ten Delonese had entered the clear, glass-looking shuttle single file, their varied suits and tall features, so crisp and perfect, morphing into blobs of monstrous squiggles and lines through the walls.
The next second Sofi’s body was moving up the low ramp. She tried to stop, but her muscles seemed to have a mind of their own, and she was through the ship’s door seconds before it hissed shut, cutting off any chance of escape for the moment.
The shuttle rumbled to life, and Sofi tried to focus—tried to talk. To ask where they were taking her.
It lifted and swayed, and Sofi felt something edging her brain.
Teasing it.
She tried to take in the faces around her and physical cues and the glass shuttle itself.
Except nothing would work right as her stomach lurched and the smell of Delonese mixed with the movement of the shuttle launched her backward into a memory . . .
Her mental clock said it’d been four days since Papa died and two days since the Delonese had come to her farm and taken her and Shilo. Meaning, two days of darkness, sitting in a rolling, blacked-out, trafficking ship soaked in urine and tears. With no food or water except the metallic moisture Sofi could lick off the icy wall behind her. She sucked in her aching tummy and tried not to wonder where they were shipping them to.
Or what would happen to Shilo once they got there.
Poor little man. He could barely stop crying when he’d found her in there, using that weird sixth sense of his. She’d nearly lost her mind trying to locate him, fumbling in the dark and stench among the other kids. And then he just appeared under her arm and asked her to warm him before sobbing his five-year-old self to sleep. His head in her lap. His hair smelling like home.