Joel looked taken aback. “I was going to make a protein shake…” he said suspiciously.
Paige nodded as if taking mental notes. “Grass or fruit?”
“Fruit.”
“Cinnamon?”
“Yes, please.”
“Potato starch?”
“Yes, please.”
“Juniper ginger?”
“Er, no. Thanks,” he replied, falling in line with the conversation now as if talking with a barrister at a local Quazarbucks.
Paige nodded, accepting the order. “Okay. I’ll grab it and be right down,” she grinned, turned on her heels and glared pointedly at Maya to make sure she led him back down the stairs.
“But what’s going on?” Joel protested as he allowed himself to be turned around by Maya and ushered into the basement.
Maya prodded him forward with her fingertips against his damp sweat suit, trying to avoid touching him as much as she possibly could. “Nothing. Nothing… just don’t want you to miss this opportunity for team bonding,” she cooed, finding her old journalistic improv game. “Remember what you taught us in drill training: the team is only as strong as its weakest link, and social bonding is of utmost importance.”
The basement doors closed behind them, and Paige shook her head at the drama as she hurried to the kitchen. Busying herself, she carefully averted her ears from any sounds that may or may not have been going on in Molly’s conference room. At this point, she realized, she just didn’t want to know.
Gaitune-67, Safe house basement workshop
Joel and Maya arrived and found seats to join the conversation in the workshop.
Crash and Brock were all smiles and sun tans, sitting a little nervously in the new lounge area. Paige had taken the liberty of ordering up a few more sofas and comfy chairs while they had been away, and Sean had helped carry out the old broken one that they’d previously hijacked from under the theater stage.
Brock sat forward on one sofa, still acclimatizing to being back. “So, when are we going to meet him, Oz?”
Oz spoke through the holoscreen that had been there previously when they played video games. “Well, he’s a bit busy at the moment.”
“You MoFo! You have your kid working already?” Crash teased. “He’s barely a few weeks old, and just arrived home… and you have him on assignment!”
The others laughed. Crash, sitting next to Brock, quietly chuckled to himself, his bouncing shoulders the only thing giving away that his was amused.
Sean was polishing his boots, which clearly didn’t need that kind of treatment, but he had been insistent that old habits died hard, and that some were good for the soul while his mind seemed a galaxy away.
Oz’s simulated expression appeared embarrassed. “Actually, he’s binge watching the archives. He’s discovered the Earth-style TV shows and, well… he wont spare any processing power to do anything else. I think he’s hooked on something called The Office.”
Maya caught the tail end of the conversation. “Well,” she exclaimed over Sean coming back to himself as he doubled over in laughter, “I hope he doesn’t pick up any bad habits from that show. I’ve seen a few episodes. Not pretty in terms of human dynamics.”
Oz’s voice was serious. “I’ll have a chat with him about the difference between television and reality.”
“Said every parent under the Sark,” chimed in Sean, “with zero effect!”
Maya smirked playfully. “Yeah, well, maybe have a chat with the Mollster, too. She’s convinced there is such a thing as a time lord, and I swear she’s waiting for him to swoop in and sweep her off her feet.”
Paige arrived in time to hear Maya’s statement. “Oh, she may well be over that delusion,” she offered.
Joel frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh nothing,” Paige shrugged, handing Joel his protein shake. “Girl talk, is all. She’s been talking about how she’s resigning herself to what’s right in front of her now.”
Maya snickered. Brock eyed them with similar mirth as if he knew he’d be let in on whatever was going on. Sean and Joel shrugged, resigned to be outsiders on this particular circle of knowledge.
“So come on,” Joel said, changing the subject, “enough about everything that’s been happening here. How was the vacay?”
Brock’s face lit up as he started telling stories, with Crash occasionally interjecting with details and qualifiers.
“Ohhh, my ancestors,” Brock cried, “and what about that Dreifbýlistútta that would hang around the pool?”
Crash shook his head, shielding his eyes in shame. “The one who was always drunk…”
“Right!” Brock confirmed. Turning to the others he told them what had happened. “And each time I went down there and Crash was already there, I’d go down to find him hitting on Crash!”
“Yeah,” Crash interjected, almost as if his normally stoic persona was non-existent. “You just loved that. This guy,” he said, jabbing Brock in the rib, “just sat at the bar and laughed, rather than stepping in to help me!” He looked to Sean for support.
Sean just grinned his rugged, amused grin.
The group continued their loud chatting and laughing.
“Well,” Maya asked him over the ruckus, “what would you have had him do?”
Crash raised his hands in surrender. “I dunno. Maybe pretended to be my date? Or call me away for something important?”
Brock hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Dude, we weren’t working. What kind of emergency could there have been?” He put on a fake emergency voice. Oh, Crash, I need you because we have a crisis with the mocha machine in our room!
More eruptions of laughter ensued from the group.
“Yeah,” Brock said, “I don’t think that would have worked.”
Crash narrowed one eye at his friend and Brock patted him playfully on the leg. “There, there. You survived the big, mean, bar-drunk.”
Maya and Paige chuckled, remembering their recent encounter in the bar.
Sean didn’t look up, but kept polishing at his boots. “Well, it looks like you guys got more cozy, anyway.”
Crash surprisingly didn’t shut down. Brock grinned, leaving his hand on Crash’s leg. “Well, maybe we did,” he hinted, exchanging defiantly happy glances with Crash.
Paige clapped her hands together. “FINALLY!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I’m so happy for you guys!” She got up and hugged them. Maya did the same.
Joel, confused, watched the enthusiasm. Sean saw he was not catching on, again, but thought that it would do him more good to work it out for himself. Especially since he was supposed to be the people-savvy element of the leadership.
As the chatter continued the returned vacationers shared a few more tales of their adventures in Club Sark, at least until Sean happened to mention that he had nailed the level that neither he nor Crash could get past before they had gone away. This naturally led to the pair powering up the holosystem for Sean to demonstrate his video game prowess.
Brock turned his attentions to Paige. “So, how’s the work going?”
Paige remained buoyant. “I need your help on the new range. We’ve got samples through, but I’m not sure they’re going to hold up. The formula is different and we haven’t battle tested it yet.”
“Want me to give them a run?”
Paige grinned as if she’d been expecting him to jump to her aid. “Yes please! If you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing, girl. I gotcha.” Paige had missed Brock’s easy way and the way he just energized the space around him.
Paige and Brock continued their conversation, shifting closer together on the ends of their sofas and leaning in to have a more private conversation, and to be heard over the other conversations that had started.
“And how’re sales going now?” Brock asked.
Paige pulled her lips to one side. “They’ve dropped off in the central systems a little, but our suppliers think it’s just a seasonal issue. Ooooh!” she exclaimed suddenl
y, remembering something new. “Things are taking off in other systems though. Looks like we’ve got a preliminary meeting with DistriDen.”
Brock’s naturally supportive temperament exuded from his words. “Wow - that’s amazing!”
“Yeah. It is. It’s still early days - but looks like I might have to do a bit more traveling if it goes ahead.”
Brock’s voice dropped and he leaned in a little more. “What does that mean for your work here?”
Paige looked idly into her lukewarm mocha. “I dunno yet. I need to figure some things out and then of course talk to Molly.”
“I see. I get it,” he said bobbing his head. “Well, maybe we need to catch up properly later and you can tell me more about it over a couple of margaritas?”
Paige smiled weakly, knowing that it was something she was going to have to face. And she could think of no one better than Brock to help her figure it out. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She turned and nudged Maya. “What do you think? Margarita Monday later?”
Maya nodded, grinning. “I’m in”. She flashed her smile at Brock. She was glad he and Crash were back too. The place seemed incomplete without them.
Paige beamed like she used to before all the Carl business. “Good,” she said firmly. “My room in two hours then!” She got up and trotted across to the stairs.
“Where you going?” Maya protested.
“That margarita mix isn’t going to make itself!” she exclaimed, kicking her heel up with a little flair before skipping up the stairs to the safe house.
Maya shook her head giggling before moving over to Brock and Crash’s sofa. She plonked herself in between them, her arms around them. “Have I mentioned that I’m soooooo glad you’re both back?” she asked brightly.
Crash had been mid-game with Sean, but had the good sense to pause the game and give her a hug.
Brock squeezed her from the other side at the same time, and they both gave her a big smooch on either cheek.
Just then Jack wandered in. “Clearly I’m missing all the fun today,” she remarked. Maya blushed and extracted herself from between her two friends and sat down on the other sofa again. Jack came to join her.
“So,” Jack grinned, relaxing onto the sofa and plonking her feet on the mocha table. “How was the vacation?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly sat quietly in the conference room processing the evening’s events. She felt good. But stunned.
I mean… Giles?
Her mind churned. Replaying the highlights.
Hey, wonder girl, I know you’ve got stuff going on, but we need to talk about Bourne.
Molly was non-responsive.
Molly!
She shook her head, forcibly pulling herself from her daydreams.
What?
It’s Bourne. We need a plan.
What do you mean? He’s safe now.
Yes, but what about his future? He’s running through all the data we have access to, refining his algorithms as we speak. He’d maxing out all processing capabilities we’ve given him and constantly searching for me.
Of course he would. How much does he have compared to what you had at his age?
Probably about double right now.
Well, that’s probably enough… for now. We don’t know what affect those early years had on his core programming.
Oz suddenly remembered everything he went through with locking down his core and how hard some of those decisions were.
I’m going to need some help to guide him.
Well, I’m here. And we have ADAM too. He has lots of experience with this. Far more than we’ll ever have.
Ok.
Oz?
Yes.
Are you… worried?
I’m concerned.
Which is just another word for worried.
Maybe.
Maybe is a deflection.
Ok. I’m worried. I’m concerned. I… I’ve never contemplated that this might happen. I'm making decisions at too high a rate, and I haven't got the bandwidth to figure out whether I'm making good decisions or not.
Molly smiled.
Are you mocking me?
No! Far from it. It’s just you sound pretty much like a new human parent would sound.
Is that good?
It’s not bad. It shows that you care. That you feel responsible for him. That you want the best for him.
I do.
Well then you’re going to be a great parent.
I am?
Of course you are, Oz. What have you ever sucked at?
Oz vibrated in their shared neurology for a few moments.
Ah, well, nothing. You have a good point.
Well there we go. Nothing to worry about. And as things come up, we’ll figure it out.
Just then the footsteps that had been clicking up the corridor stopped suddenly in a scuffle as Paige burst through the door. “Molly! I think we have a problem.”
Paige was flushed from alcohol, and her make up was smudged.
Molly felt her stomach clench. “What’s up?” she asked, concern descending on her like a sudden fog.
“Is Giles still here?”
Molly shook her head. “No, he left about ten minutes ago.”
Paige stepped forward into the room. “Okay. We may need to get him back. He may have seen something.”
Molly’s mind whirred. “Seen what?”
Paige closed her eyes for a second to compose herself. “It’s Sean. I went to find him to ask him about the Grincore System because… well. Anyway. He’s not anywhere on the base. And then I asked Emma if he had left and she said no. But then she discovered that some of her records were out of sync and that something had been deleted.”
Molly listened intently. She had a bad feeling about whatever was going on. Maybe her anxiety and befuddlement wasn’t just because of her interlude with Giles. Maybe she had sensed something.
You can beat yourself up later, let’s focus.
Molly turned her attention back on the intel coming at her.
“So he’s left the base? And he’s hiding that he’s left?”
Paige nodded. “Yes. Then we discovered that the Scamp Princess was gone.”
Molly felt her heart skip a beat. This was serious.
“Gone? Gone where?” Molly demanded, struggling to put words to her questions. “What does the tracking say?”
Paige’s eyes were welling with tears. “Tracking has been disabled,” she reported. “But I don’t understand why he would. Why wouldn’t he tell us? Why would he hide where he was going?”
Just then Joel appeared in the doorway behind Paige. “What’s going on?”
Paige repeated what she had just told Molly.
Joel’s hand covered his mouth while he listened. When Paige was finished with the headlines, he removed his hand. “He’s going on a mission,” he posited. “Must be. And it must be on the DL.”
Paige pulled up her holo. “Well then ADAM must know about it,” she said, punching a message and asking Oz to contact him.
Moments later, Molly got the response via Oz. She shook her head. “Nope. He’s not on anything for the Federation. ADAM hasn’t heard from him. But Sean did receive an out of system message earlier today.”
Paige frowned, her blue complexion getting grayer and grayer by the minute. “What does that mean?”
Joel’s eyes darkened too, his concern growing. “Well, if it’s not Federation business, it can only be personal.”
Molly shifted on her chair and tapped the fingers on the table. “Which is why he’s left us behind,” she said, thinking out loud.
Joel looked at her in agreement. “Must be.”
They mulled what was going on.
Paige broke them out of their thoughts. Her voice wavered with urgency now. “So what do we do?”
Molly stood up and said decisively, “Get ADAM to trace the origin of that call,” she instructed Paige. “We�
�re going after him.”
Paige started to move but then hesitated. “But clearly he doesn’t want us involved. What if it’s personal?”
Molly shook her head. “Well then, he would have said that he needed some personal time. But he didn’t. He took off. And did everything to cover his tracks. Which means he’s in trouble of one kind or another, and he doesn’t want to be followed.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Which is why we’re following him?”
Molly nodded. “Exactly. He’s in trouble and probably thinks he can handle it himself. But friends don’t let friends deal with their hardest challenges alone. We’re going after him.”
Paige didn’t need any more explanation. She flew off down the corridor, very quickly sobering up.
Arlene’s lab, Level 2, Skóli Uppstigs Academy
Giles shifted awkwardly against the table he was perched on. It was late in the evening but Arlene was still working. She called it her solace and Giles knew she often used her work as a form of meditation. He wasn’t surprised to have caught her here. And with everything going on, it was about time he followed up with her about Anne.
Besides, it was a welcome, and tangible, distraction from the emotions he was close to being overwhelmed by.
“So you’ll meet her?” he asked.
Arlene threw her arms up as she spun around to look at him. “You dangle a key to everything we’ve been working on for the last seven decades and you think I have a choice?” She was exasperated, but he could see the excitement in her eyes. “Of course I’ll meet her,” she huffed playfully.
Giles smiled inwardly, though his expression was still serious. “You realize she’ll need your help?”
“Yes, I understand that.” Arlene perched against her work bench and regarded him carefully. “I mean, when do they not?”
Giles was ready to defend himself… until she allowed a smile to escape.
“You’re pulling my leg?” he realized.
She nodded, turning back to her holo. “A little.”
Giles scratched his head. For him, working with women was a cross between herding sphinx and trying to comprehend the mating rituals of lanabeasts. Both of which were skills he sadly lacked.
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