Not only that, but he was fast and angry. The knack he had shown in the caravan attack for focusing on what had to happen instead of what to do served him well now.
“In fact—” Taigan gasped as she only narrowly avoided another blow, “I think you’re angry at Ella. You’re angry that she wants you to keep living.”
“Stop talking about her! You know nothing about her.” His face screwed up. “I love her.”
“If you loved her, would you honestly show it by trying to leave the world, knowing you might never get back instead of staying with her? What if you don’t come back? She’ll die alone, Esak, without her best friend. She’ll never know what happened to him.”
“Enough talking!”
He fought with no holds barred after that. His face was contorted with hatred and he fought her as if she were the manifestation of everything he hated about himself. They had persuaded his mind, she saw now, but they hadn’t persuaded his heart.
And there was no getting around that step. If he wasn’t prepared to believe that he would do better by staying, he wouldn’t do it.
She whipped the staff around and down to strike him on the outside of one ankle, and he pulled his leg up with a hiss of pain. He recovered quickly enough that she almost tripped trying to evade his assault.
Kural shook his head. “This is like watching toddlers with…”
“Uzis?” Jamie suggested.
“I have no idea what that is.”
“Yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t. It’s not great, though.”
“You’re both being very rude,” Taigan called.
Esak took advantage of her distraction to close the distance again, but when he had her within easy range, he pulled up. There was fear in his eyes. At the core, he wanted this to be a duel to the death but he didn’t want to kill anyone.
“If you lose,” she said, “you’ll have to walk down this mountain and go home.”
He didn’t answer. She could hardly decipher his expression in the dying light of the fire, but he didn’t speak at all.
“What does it tell you,” she called to him, “that you are more afraid of going back and facing your town than you are of dying?”
She whirled, pulled her arm back, and let the staff slide out to thunk into his chest. He stumbled with a cry of pain. He would have a nasty bruise, she thought. Better he have a bruise, though, than throw himself into an attack she could only escape by killing him. If he would only stop, they could try to find another way but there was no doubt that he wouldn’t.
He drove her back to the downslope, the path they had come up only a couple of hours before. One of his hands caught the staff and his feet tangled with hers as he tried to find purchase from behind to trip her.
It seemed to work and she felt herself slipping. She was a good match for him in a sparring match he didn’t want to win but not against someone who wanted to get himself killed and didn’t care who he took with him.
A thought occurred to her and she acted on it in a split second. She let her back leg bend, pushed up with all her might, and released her staff with one hand. The weapon, slantways between them, jerked up over their heads and she twisted out of the way so the sword caught only air on its way down.
Before he could recover, she grasped the staff with her free hand and yanked it down and in around Esak’s body. She put everything she had into the maneuver and several muscles pulled. He stumbled, twisted, and—caught by the staff—tumbled with her on top of him.
His guard hadn’t been up and he was stunned by the fall. It was easy for her to bat his hands away and press her fingers into his neck.
That got his attention, at least. He sat, choking and spluttering, and his hands found her face. He coughed and pounded weakly at her hands.
“You wanted to die?” Taigan asked him. “Well, fine. Have it your way. You’ll never see her again.”
“Taigan?” Jamie whispered from behind her. He was horrified and stepped forward reflexively, only to have Kural put a hand on his chest and push him back.
Esak shook his head. He tried to say something and she wouldn’t let him breathe enough to do it. His legs kicked and his hands scrabbled at hers. For a moment, he sagged and she thought she had miscalculated terribly.
Then he planted his feet and lunged to dislodge her. She rolled on the rocky earth and gritted her teeth against a cry of pain.
“I will not…” Esak was panting. His voice was hoarse and trailed into coughing. “I will not…I have to…” He sat and wrapped his arms around his knees. “Fine. What does it say that I’m more scared of going back than I am of dying?” He looked at her now.
Taigan pushed to a seated position. She could feel from tiny breezes that her shirt was ripped.
“It says that living is more difficult,” she said.
A long pause followed.
“Oh,” he said. “I hadn’t…oh.”
“I was worried when I heard you were going for the key because I was afraid I would never get home,” she said. “It infuriated me that you’d want to leave your family and not ever know if you could get back to them because every time I fall asleep, I don’t know if I’ll go back. But I should have told you.”
“Yeah. You should.” He tried to be grumpy but she could see him still chewing over her assessment of life and death.
“It takes considerable courage to be different,” she said. “And it’s hard to not be able to do things the way other people do them. They look at words on a page and see them all at once, while you see them move constantly. Words go out of order. You can do the sums but you can’t read them. You never thought of yourself as a brave person or a strong one, but what if that’s because things are merely harder for you?”
Esak stared at her.
“Maybe you’ll train dogs,” Taigan said. “Or you’ll be an accountant and you’ll have someone to take notes. Maybe you’ll learn a way to read. It’ll be hard and you won’t be able to follow anyone else’s path.”
He began to laugh and shook his head at her.
“What?”
“You haven’t realized who you’re talking to.” He stood and pressed his hand against his sternum with a wince. “That one blow hurt, by the way.” He moved to help her up. “You’re trying to convince me that it’s better to stay in my world and fight my battles and accept everything because you’re trying to convince yourself. You get that, right?”
“I…oh.” Taigan gaped at him.
“I wasn’t the only one who half-hoped to lose this fight,” he told her bluntly. He pulled her closer and spoke quietly enough that only she could hear him. “If you want my guess, I’d say your worst fear is going back. That’s what you’ll have to face.”
She stared blankly at him.
“Come on,” he said and stepped away. “Let’s sleep. Really, this time.”
“Yeah? Why would I believe that again?”
“Because you showed me I didn’t want to die,” he said. He shrugged. “Or…we could go to the tower right now and I could make sure you go in.”
“No, I want to sleep first.”
“Uh-huh. Go sleep.” He gave her a challenging look barely visible in the dim light.
“If you don’t go, you could stay with me,” Prima said.
“I’d like that,” Taigan replied.
“I wouldn’t.”
“Rude.”
“You’d mope about, all upset because you were only hiding out here, afraid of going home. That’s not what anyone wants. Go to sleep and get over your weird stupid ideas.”
She yawned. “Okay, but one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“If you ever take up a new career, please don’t ever become a motivational speaker.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Amber had formed a vague theory of what Price intended to do. It seemed obvious that the CEO would make it seem like all the patents were for something else and their secrecy and dashing around would have been related to that. She
didn’t know what rabbit the woman would pull out of her hat, but their boss was clever and employed numerous other clever people. It would be something good.
As theories went, it was a fairly good one.
It was also not entirely accurate. What Price had planned, it turned out, was…a party?
Unmistakably, it was a party. Tables held platters of food and drinks. A stage in the center of the room had balloons tied to the corners and a banner that said HAPPY RETIREMENT URVASHI. The woman in question wore a sash and a tiara and circulated through the room with a drink in her hand.
Price came up to Amber, Jacob, and Nick with a smile.
“She didn’t suspect a thing,” the woman confided. “And I couldn’t have pulled it off without you. I apologize heartily for doubting you.”
“No, no,” Amber said, remembering their staged fight about deadlines and progress. “It’s okay.”
“It certainly is not. You put so much hard work into this and so did the dancers. This will mean the world to Urvashi, and I can’t apologize enough for my behavior.” She darted a surprised look at Gary Brooks as if she’d only now noticed him. “Mr. Brooks, it’s good to see you again.”
“I, uh…” He looked around a little desperately. “Um… I’ll go.”
“Oh, stay, please. We have more than enough food.” Price smiled. “Now, tell me, how did you run into—” She broke off as bhangra music began to play. “It’s starting! Come on.”
“What…” Brooks said faintly, but Nick pulled him along with them.
Dancers streamed in through the doors at the back of the room and rushed to pick Urvashi up and carry her to the stage. Once she was seated in a regal chair, they began to drape necklaces on her and launched into a dance number.
The tune was insanely catchy and Amber tapped her toes involuntarily. When the dancers began teaching a few dance moves to the partygoers—something she would usually hate—she laughed and went along with it. Now, the specific things she had said to Price made sense. When they’d talked about emotional evocation and sequences it had been about dance.
More dancers circulated with necklaces for everyone before they performed their dance number for Urvashi. Though their movements were very lowkey and not nearly as elaborate as what the people on stage were doing, it was surprisingly fun to be a part of the elaborate act. It honestly felt like a set piece in a musical.
Even Brooks seemed to be getting into it, which made her laugh.
When they finished, sweaty and out of breath, cheers and applause followed and Price bounded onto the stage to give a farewell speech. Urvashi, it turned out, was the CFO of Diatek and was retiring to travel around the world. The guest of honor also spoke, and after one more dance number, the party returned to mingling.
When Amber looked around again, the agent was gone.
It couldn’t be. Brooks limped down the hallway in a daze. He recalled every call and every email. This couldn’t have been what they were talking about.
But it was. Now that he’d heard Price’s apology to the other woman—apparently an employee—and seen the dance number, he replayed the words of the late-night calls in his head and understood them all in a new light.
All the things he had thought were connected had been pieces of a completely different puzzle. Price had tried to hide her plans from her friend, not him. She had planned the surprise party with her trademark focus.
He had monitored her communications and those of the spinoff company for weeks, confident that they were simply having their discussions on a different channel. They had never mentioned a big, secret project and he had thought the absence was proof that it existed.
Stupidly, he had thought that the lack of evidence he found there was simply good subterfuge.
Instead, the lack of evidence was because there wasn’t anything. He had to admit that now. Price had been honest with him about what was going on in her companies, and he had spent thousands of dollars and three weeks getting absolutely nowhere.
He didn’t want to report in but he needed to, and putting it off wouldn’t help anything. Early in his career, he had learned to get this type of thing over with as quickly as possible. Over the years, he had rarely been wrong and he’d have to hope that his track record was enough that his boss wouldn’t be too angry about this misfire.
Also, he had to hope that Price wouldn’t lodge a complaint against him.
Leaning exhaustedly against the wall, he typed a message to his boss.
Secret project at Diatek not related to anything classified. Review of communications and current progress suggests that they have not made any hidden advances. I recommend closing this review case.
Brooks put his phone in his pocket and pushed away from the wall. The promise he’d already made was a firm personal note that he would never pose as a bike messenger again. He was getting too old for this. His thigh muscles might never recover and he was fairly sure one heel was bleeding.
Tomorrow would be misery—or whenever he woke up. Right now, he felt like he could sleep for three days straight. Whatever the case, the first time he used these muscles again, it would be horrific. He should stop at the bodega near his hotel and get their largest bottle of painkillers as well as enough food to keep him going for three days.
But how would he get to the bathroom?
The thought made him want to cry.
He was merely demoralized because of his investigative misfire, he told himself. He saw so many people being sneaky and exploitative that he tended to think the worst of people.
Plus, if he’d been the one to finally secure an AI for the government, he would have been a hero. His career would have been secure forever—and he had imagined all the boards he could be a member of and consulting fees he could charge.
Too bad it hadn’t panned out.
He shook his head, then stopped and typed one last message, routed anonymously. Please see a doctor regarding your stomach issues.
Amber’s phone buzzed and she took it out and immediately began to laugh. She and Jacob high-fived.
“That was nice of him, you know,” Nick said. “And we all thought he was such a jerk.”
“Let’s not forget he thinks I have stomach issues because he bugged my bathroom,” she pointed out.
“Oh, right. I always forget that part.” He gulped his punch. “This is a good party, though. Man, this is smooth. Does it have alcohol in it? If it does, I’m in serious trouble.”
All three of them had their phones buzz the next minute from another anonymous number. He has ended the investigation.
Amber looked at Price and wondered how she could possibly know that already but found that she, too, looked at her phone, clearly reading instead of typing. The woman excused herself from a group of executives and approached their group.
“So…she texts now?” the CEO asked. She looked more bemused than upset, although there was resignation in her tone.
It took Amber a moment to realize who she meant.
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh,” Jacob echoed.
Nick swayed slightly and looked at each of the others. “What…oh.”
“There’s definitely alcohol in that punch, buddy,” Jacob told him.
DuBois wandered up, now wearing five flower necklaces and a colorful hat. He pointed at his phone. “Who sent this?”
“She did,” Price said. “Apparently.”
Their phones buzzed again. Ms. Price is correct.
“Well,” she said. “It looks like we pulled it off.”
I have to say, Prima commented in response, I’m surprised that your plan worked better than mine. I would not have determined this solution.
“It’s a meta-solution,” the woman said with a smile. “It changes the terms of the game.”
I see. I’ll have to study those. Enjoy the party, everyone.
“Goodbye,” they said almost in unison.
Price shook her head slightly, still smiling. “Would everyone like som
e punch?”
“Water for me, please,” Nick said, slightly cross-eyed.
A meta-solution. Prima hummed to herself and made a brief check on Taigan’s group.
All were snoozing peacefully. It was most interesting for her to watch Kural and Esak dreaming. Although technically products of her algorithms, they had their individual motivations and fragmentary dreams.
While she had no body to stretch or re-settle, she had the sense that if she did have a body, that was what she would have done. There was great contentment at the awareness of her physical limits, the servers and energy waves that held her essence in them.
For a moment, it seemed incredible that everything she was could be contained there.
But it was the same for humans, wasn’t it?
She considered her options for the future. It was quite possible that Price was right. Prima wouldn’t be able to hide forever. Someone would realize that she existed and there would be a fight.
Perhaps this was what fear was like—knowing you had chosen your actions and your priorities ahead of time but that you did not know how a confrontation would turn out. There were too many unknowns and too little data on what an opponent might know or do.
She decided not to worry about that. For now, she still had so much to learn. Like why DuBois liked popcorn so much and why humans lied to each other even when it was completely obvious that they were lying—and why the humans they were speaking to sometimes approved of those lies. Amber had given Prima a term for it—aspirational lies.
It wasn’t a term she could find documentation on, which meant it was a description. There were so many layers of language to sift through when speaking to humans. It often confused her.
But she was beginning to enjoy confusion and uncertainty. Unlike humans, she harbored no false hopes that she would one day be without those two things. Prima knew how much knowledge existed in the universe and how impossible it was to know it all—to even begin to collect it all. To be alive, in any sense, was to have a span of awareness, and that span had edges.
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