by Megan Hart
“The dog could,” Vanslyke said. “It had been fitted with a voice simulator.”
Through this conversation, Nina had made no comments but kept her attention on her plate and of course on Ewan. She glanced at him now, but if he was at all concerned about Vanslyke’s not-so-subtle inference that Nina could be equated with a talking dog, he wasn’t showing it.
Although she wanted to tell this jerk to shut his yammer hole, she carefully cut a bite of synthsalmon and let that fill her mouth instead of the words that had risen to her tongue. She followed it with a bite of charred vegetables. One of creamy risotto. She washed it down with a swig of cool, clear water and met Vanslyke’s gaze head-on without so much as a flinch until he was the one who looked away first.
Dima said, “I thought those were illegal.”
Vanslyke shrugged and smiled. “He bought it before those laws were passed.”
“They were supposed to put them all down,” said the woman wearing blue. “At least, that’s what I thought.”
“He paid thousands of credits to fit that dog with a voicesim box. It was Bennington Woods, wasn’t it? I know him.” Ewan sipped some wine, his tone neutral, without so much as a glance toward Nina.
The other woman, wearing a green caftan with gold thread designs, had so far been mostly quiet but spoke up now. Her makeup, a pattern of painted lines, had been expertly applied, but unlike the other female guest, this woman didn’t seem to have more than a few cosmetic upgrades. “I don’t think it matters how much money he spent. He loved that dog. Should he have been forced to murder it simply because someone decided it was some kind of affront to society?”
“You’re missing the point, Aura.” This came from the woman in blue.
Aura lifted both brows. “What is the point, Seri?”
Seri looked toward Nina but quickly cut her glance away. “The point is that any time you mess around with the natural order of things—”
“The natural order?” Aura cut in with a harsh laugh. “Please. You’ve spent more money on electives than any person I know. Those rotating glitter discs are new, aren’t they? Tell me, dear, what it’s like to bump into things in the dark because you’ve sacrificed clear night vision for a cosmetic process?”
Seri’s chin tipped up and her full lips thinned. “Cosmetic electives are very different from messing with brains and nerves. I’ve chosen my electives to enhance my appearance. I didn’t do anything permanent. I’m still me!”
“One could argue that a dog fitted with an artificial voice box that simulates speech based on a complicated system of neural impulses, all of which was based on faulty science, by the way, was still the dog it was before the surgery.” Aura sipped from her glass of wine, her tone calm but the liquid visibly rippling from the tremors in her hand.
Dima yawned. “A dog can’t consent to being altered.”
“Neither can a soldier, right?” Vanslyke retorted.
Nina looked at Vanslyke, expecting him to wear an expression of smug confidence. Instead, his eyes held anger and fear and something else she couldn’t put her finger on, but definitely negative. The trouble was, she couldn’t discern between emotions just by the subtle physical changes she could sense in him. It was enough for her to fix him with her attention, though. If he was going to go off, she’d be ready to handle him. More than ready.
Delighted.
“Nina consented,” Ewan told Vanslyke. “She signed the agreement when she took her orders. She knew all along there was the possibility that she might be subject to experimental procedures.”
Aura set her glass down hard enough to spill some wine onto the white tablecloth. The crimson stain spread rapidly around the bottom of the glass. “If she’d known exactly what was going to be done to her, maybe she’d have made a different choice.”
“Maybe,” Nina said mildly, “you could all remember that I’m sitting right here and can hear everything you’re saying.”
Silence greeted her at that. Aura had the grace to look away. Seri and Vanslyke shot her challenging glares. Dima had been concentrating on his food and didn’t bother to look up. That left Ewan, and Nina turned slightly in her chair to look at him.
“You could all remember that I’m an actual person and not an experiment,” Nina said, loud enough for everyone to hear, although her words were meant solely for Ewan’s benefit.
His eyes locked on hers. He wasn’t smiling. “I don’t think anyone could forget that you’re a person, Nina Bronson.”
His words felt more like an insult than an assurance. Nobody else said anything, and moments later the servers arrived with the next course. The conversation changed to another topic, and although Vanslyke’s narrow-eyed gaze kept finding Nina’s face, she ignored him and focused on the plate in front of her. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was not actually hungry but ate anyway. Her duty was to remain in the best physical condition she could so she’d be able to do her job. By the time dessert arrived, though, she’d satisfied herself with synthetic protein and had no desire for sweets.
She’d been to many dinner parties, and this one wasn’t much different. The guests chatted over their pastries and coffee, then followed Ewan into the media room for after-dinner cocktails and vaping while they continued their gossiping. Nina stayed quiet, taking a seat in the corner and keeping her eyes on Ewan as he played host. He could be so charming, she thought as he smiled and flirted and flattered his guests. Even Vanslyke seemed mollified into laughter by Ewan’s pleasantries.
At least until a few cocktails had been consumed and the night had started wearing on to the hour when anyone with good manners would be setting off for home. Instead, Ewan’s guests had all gotten a little louder, more raucous, venting opinions and arguing while Nina looked on from her unobtrusive spot in the corner.
She hadn’t been paying much attention to the content of the conversations—the talk at dinner had convinced her she didn’t really care what any of these people were saying. She was attuned to the tones of their voices, however, and the way they moved, so when Vanslyke stood suddenly, gesturing, Nina was on her feet at once to assess the situation.
“I’m just saying,” Vanslyke slurred. “Considering how much of my money has gone toward your campaigns, Donahue, I should think that entitles me to a demonstration of what, exactly, I’m helping you fight against.”
“That’s not, ‘exactly,’ how it works,” Ewan said calmly with a hint of teasing in his emphasis. If he was intoxicated, he didn’t sound it, and although Nina hadn’t been counting his cocktails, she didn’t think he’d had enough to be drunk. “You should know that.”
Vanslyke gesticulated with both hands, causing Nina to take a step closer. “Well, I want to see it anyway. Have her demonstrate.”
“She’s not a remote-controlled toy.” This came from Aura, who’d been watching Vanslyke with a look on her face as though she’d stepped in something rotten.
Seri’s lip curled. For a group of people who were supposed to be friends, none of them seemed to like each other very much. Only Dima had kept mostly to himself and now lolled on the couch looking as though he had already passed out. Aura drew in a breath of vapor and let it sift out of her nostrils.
“I want to see what she can do. Sure, we’ve all watched them on the media reports, but how can we be sure that it’s all true? Any of it could have been fabricated.” Vanslyke poked an aggressive finger toward Seri.
“What do you think was made up?” Nina spoke up at last. “Sure, there have been a lot of media reports that were spun in the wrong direction. Why don’t you tell me what, exactly, you’re worried about, though, and maybe I can help you out.”
She glanced at Ewan, expecting to see a frown or a warning look, but he was smiling a little. He didn’t like Vanslyke, she realized. He’d take the derp’s money, but he didn’t actually enjoy his company.
“Come at me.” Vanslyke smacked his hands on his chest, then leaped toward her as though she was su
pposed to be scared. He jabbed his hands at her in a parody of some kind of fighting style Nina couldn’t recognize, probably because he was making it up as he went along. “Come at me! Come on! Let’s see how fast you are. How strong.”
“I’m very strong and very fast, and I don’t need to prove it to you. I am also bound not to use excessive force on civilians unless they’ve created some kind of threat toward my client. In other words, in case that was a bit too complicated for you to understand,” Nina replied, “I’m not going to fight you just to show off for the sake of it.”
Vanslyke advanced on her. “What about the rest of us?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Nina answered in a low voice, although she had an idea of where he was going with this. She looked to Ewan for help, but he said nothing.
“What if something endangered the rest of us in here? What would you do if Aura was threatened?”
“Are you threatening her?” Nina asked.
Aura looked alarmed. “Petro, for onegod’s sake, enough. You’re drunk.”
“What if I walked up to her,” Vanslyke said as he moved toward Aura with a sudden, swift purpose that belied his intoxication, “and punched her in the face?”
“I would advise you not to do that,” Nina said.
Ewan scowled. “Knock it off, Vanslyke. Don’t make me have you escorted out of here.”
“What if I stabbed her?” Vanslyke continued, then whirled on Dima, whose eyes were closed and who barely stirred even when the other man nudged his foot. “What if I jumped on Dima here and sliced him up while he was too drunk to defend himself?”
Nina steadied her stance but didn’t move toward him. “I would advise you not to do that, either, but mostly because I happen to know that Ewan has plenty of security staff ready to haul you out of here with a snap of his fingers.”
“Ewan?” Vanslyke faced her with a sneer. “So, you’re on a first-name basis with him? Wow. Donahue, I had no idea you were so chummy with the help.”
“Decades of social resistance to class structure, and that’s how you choose to talk?” Maybe Dima hadn’t been passed out after all, because now his feet and hands both swam in the air as he made a show of getting up from the couch.
Vanslyke didn’t even glance in the other man’s direction, but kept his gaze squared on Nina’s. “It could be hundreds of years, and there will always be those with class and those without.”
“That’s for sure,” Nina said lightly as her fingers curled. Not quite into fists—she wasn’t threatening this sphincter, even if he was trying his best to get her to.
Seri snorted laughter. “I think she just called you classless, Petro. And you know what? She’s right.”
Vanslyke didn’t rise to the insult. He moved closer to Nina. He stood a good four or five inches taller than her and definitely outweighed her. He had made fists with no attempt at hiding them. He was definitely threatening her, or at least trying to.
“I’ve been poked plenty, by better than you, so it would be in your best interest to back off.” Nina gave him a pleasant smile.
At last, Ewan spoke up. “Yeah, Vanslyke. You’re crossing the line here. You’re a guest in my home, and you know I don’t allow anyone to abuse my staff.”
Nina did not look at him when he said that. She was not, by definition, his staff, but she didn’t bother to correct him. She kept her eyes on Vanslyke, who had all the signs of going off the rails at any second.
She was ready, then, when the blond man jabbed a punch at her face. She sidestepped it neatly, then again when he tried with the other hand. He wasn’t entirely without skill, and it was clear he’d had some training.
“You’ll be no match for her, you derp.” Aura stood with her hands denting the flowing fabric of her caftan at her hips. “Seriously, if you’re going to be so insanely moronic as to actually try to attack any kind of soldier, much less one of the enhanced, you can forget about taking me home tonight. I’ll call a transpo.”
Nina took a second or so to process the unexpected information that Vanslyke and Aura were connected, and in that moment of inattention, Vanslyke took another shot. This one grazed her chin as she bobbed and weaved out of his way. He’d done little more than brush her with his knuckles, but you’d have thought he’d knocked her out by the way he crowed and danced.
“I thought you were supposed to be fast,” Vanslyke said.
Ewan took another step forward. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, is it? I guess I want to see where my money goes, Donahue. It obviously didn’t go toward your pantry. I’ve had better dinners at a soup kitchen. Synthsalmon? I’d be insulted if I wasn’t just drunk enough on liquor decent enough to make up for that disappointing meal.” He jerked his chin toward Nina. “What’s the matter with you? I thought you were all triggered into action by being attacked. I’m not sure what you’re paying for her, Donahue, but you might want to ask for a refund.”
“The last time I checked, I wasn’t beholden to you to explain any of my choices, much less the ones that deal with my personal safety. I’m going to remind you once more, Vanslyke. You’re a guest in my house. Don’t make me have you escorted out of here.” Ewan’s voice had gone low in warning, but Vanslyke didn’t seem worried about it.
“I’ve donated more money to you than anyone else in this room. Anyone else, ever, I suspect. I’d say that gives me the right to ask for any kind of demonstration I like.”
“It doesn’t entitle you to be a pompous son-of-a-bitch,” Ewan replied evenly. “The money you’ve donated to any of my campaigns has gone directly to the causes it was meant for. None of your donations have anything to do with Nina or her position in my house.”
Dima had not yet managed to get to his feet. “Now you’re simply being a complete pustule, Petro. Have another drink or shut up so the rest of us can enjoy ours.”
“I think the night is over.” Aura crossed her arms. “You’ve ruined it, Petro. Mazel tov.”
Seri rolled her eyes. “You should know better than to give him whiskey, but I have to say, Ewan, he was right about the synthsalmon.”
“Synthsalmon was the better ecological and environmental choice,” Aura retorted, turning on the other woman. “Although I suppose you’d prefer to load up your body with contaminants or perhaps contribute to the disgusting violation of the environment perpetuated by the salmon industry?”
Nina had been watching all of them gripe back and forth while keeping her attention on Vanslyke. He kept bouncing, jabbing at her now and then, trying to engage her in fighting him. He wasn’t going to get a rise out of her, although if he managed to hit her again she might be tempted to twist his arm up behind his back and let him feel a small portion of the strength he seemed so insistent on testing.
Several things happened in the next few moments. Seri and Aura went toe-to-toe, both of them screeching. Dima fell back onto the couch, head tipped back, and began to snore. Vanslyke pivoted on one expensive leather boot to pull a steak knife from his sleeve.
He rounded on Ewan with a yell, the knife held high. Ewan, startled, stepped back. Nina was already moving. Between Ewan and the blade, she spun, kicking out to knock Vanslyke’s feet from under him as she grabbed the front of his tunic at the same time and held on, despite the way he slashed at her. The knife caught her forearm, slicing at her shirt, but since the garment was woven of soft and lightweight material designed specifically to resist exactly this sort of attack, all it did was blunt against her. Hard enough to bruise, for sure, but not to cut.
She punched Vanslyke in the nose and had rarely felt a better satisfaction than she did in dropping him to his knees, where she kneed him beneath the chin to send him backward. Blood spattered. The women in the room cried out, more at the possibility of being sprinkled with crimson than at how Vanslyke was taken down, Nina thought. Dima hadn’t moved.
“Stay down,” she warned when Vanslyke made as though to get up. “I mean it. I will hurt you.”
The kni
fe had gone skittering toward Ewan when she felled Vanslyke, but that wasn’t stopping him. This was one seriously pissed-off bro. He rolled and scrabbled at her legs, trying to clutch at her ankles. So, she kicked him. Hard, right in the ribs. Then again. Targeted, controlled, but without mercy. She wasn’t even breathing hard when she stopped to again assess the situation.
“Nina!” Ewan’s voice did not turn her head, because she was no longer assessing the situation. She was protecting her client.
Vanslyke dove for the knife, caught it with the tips of his fingers, and with surprising agility was on his feet and aiming for Ewan again. This time, Ewan did not move. Nina shoved him with one arm to keep him out of the way, and he stumbled backward, catching himself by going to one knee. Nina kicked Vanslyke again, square in the chest, knocking him onto his back. He dropped the knife. His head hit the floor with a thunk loud enough to stop both women from their screaming and flailing. Nina glanced over her shoulder at Ewan, who’d gotten to his feet.
She bent over Vanslyke, who was still wriggling. She jabbed him in the sweet spot at the base of his throat to knock the breath out of him, then clocked him a good one to the temple. He went down and stayed down.
“That’s called eliminating the threat,” she said in a low voice to him, although he was unconscious and wouldn’t hear her.
She straightened and licked her top lip. She’d barely broken a sweat, but there was a hint of salt. She put her hands on her hips, looking around the room. Dima wasn’t stirring. Aura bent over Vanslyke, clucking and tutting, the back of her hand to his forehead. Seri had poured herself another drink.
“That’s the end of the party,” Ewan told them all.
Seri tossed back her drink and flashed her eyes at him. Nina expected a snotty comment, but the woman surprised her. “She’s worth every cent, Ewan.”
“Petro was trying to make a point,” Aura put in. “She didn’t have to knock him out.”
“She did. He should have known better, but he was, as usual, an arrogant jerk who thought he could get away with something that nobody else could. He asked for a demonstration. He got one.” Ewan shrugged and held out a hand for Aura to take so she could get to her feet. “He can send me the cleaning bill for the blood.”