by T. K. Toppin
My head ached. This didn’t make any sense. I wanted to tell John how absurd it all was, that my mind was just confused and making things up—seeing things. I wanted to tell him everything, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t know how. The thought scared me. Terrified me. Not just about how John would react, but because what if it was true? What if it was Adam? It would mean that Adam was behind everything. He was The Path. He was the inside man. The one who wanted me dead—wanted John dead.
He was Uron Koh!
And then the other thing. What if I was wrong to accuse John’s brother of being a murdering extremist? Even I found the idea ludicrous. John would think I’d gone mad. It would be seen as an attack on his family, and people tended to react badly when you did that.
Knives, cold and sharp, riddled my dreams. Dancing and swimming before my eyes, taunting me, touching my neck with their freezing cold touch. Someone laughed hysterically in the background. Sometimes the knives cut me; sharp little pricks and stabs to my neck, my face, chest. The pricks pierced cold as icicles, like frostbite. I wanted it to stop, but had forgotten how to speak. My tongue had frozen. It felt so heavy and thick. And all around me, icicles broke and fell, but instead of shattering like glass, they made odd tapping noises.
Tap, tap, tap-tap.
I awoke groggy and heavy-headed. John had already left, but his scent still lingered on the pillows and sheets, a heavy muskiness mingled with the muted spice and woody scents of his cologne. Sometimes it reminded me of my grandfather when he came inside from a day spent tending to his garden, the lingering scent of his Old Spice aftershave clinging to him. I snuggled into the pillow, breathing in deeply. I thought of John, and then Adam, then sprang out of bed.
Making quick work of my morning toilet, I yanked on some clothes and found Trudi in the kitchen. I wanted to know where to find Simon. She informed me he’d be in his offices. Since I didn’t have a personal unit, I didn’t how to contact anyone aside from hollering at the top of my voice. I also hadn’t got around to learning how to use the communications links, let alone remembering people’s numbers. I asked Trudi to contact Simon and have him meet me in the courtyard gardens. Urgently.
“What’s wrong?” Trudi inquired with concern, her personal unit poised near her mouth.
I was already tearing out of the house, nearly tripping as I fumbled with my shoes. Hopping one-footed, affixing the shoe over my heel, I reached the door.
“Nothing,” I called back. Everything!
* * *
Simon was very prompt. He waited, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the very same bench I’d once been manacled to. On seeing me, he tapped his foot impatiently. Trust him to find a way to rub me the wrong way whenever he found a chance to do so.
“Good morning,” he greeted me, in that way teachers did when they tried to be pleasant but really didn’t care. “You look as sour as usual.” Taking note of something in my face, he immediately reacted like everyone else did. “What’s wrong?”
I told him.
His bland expression didn’t change as he watched me, so I had no idea what his real thoughts or feelings were. Not that I ever did know. He just absorbed everything I told him, casting his sharp, angular features into an expression of extreme calmness. Only those icy blue eyes flicked from side to side, looking at my left eye, then my right, and back again.
When I finished, he nodded and pursed his lips. “And you’re sure. About the…” He waggled his fingers before me.
“Yes, goddammit.” My voice rose. “How many people do exactly that?” I demonstrated. “And wear a ring just like it? I mean, what are the fucking odds?”
“Okay, okay. Just checking.”
I let out a long sigh and sat down.
“Why have you not told John?”
“Would you?” I gawped at him. “I mean, what if I am wrong? It’s his brother we’re talking about here!”
“Hmm.” Simon tapped his chin and stared at the ground for a moment. “Let me do some checking. We can’t just go accusing people of being someplace without some proof to back us up, can we? You do know what you are suggesting, don’t you? Mmm. Yes, you do. I’ll get back to you before the day is out. In the meantime, stay out of trouble, if you can.”
“Simon?” I looked up at him. He seemed a little troubled. “Do you think I should’ve said something to John? First, I mean, instead of coming to you? You think, I mean, you don’t think he’ll get a little pissed off?”
Simon regarded me with a good-natured smirk. “Oh, he’ll be upset, be assured of that. But don’t fret too much. I know him well enough. In the end, he’ll be glad you waited until you got yourself some proper proof first. But it’s his pride that’s a little delicate. And loyalty. He places that before all else. By not telling him first, it’s like a slap in the face for him.”
He made as if to leave, stopped, and looked back at me.
“Josie. If it is as you say, would you prefer I told him? I could just say it came up during my investigations.”
Tempting. Simon could be the bearer of bad news while I ran the other way to find some sand to bury my head into.
I sighed and stood. “No. I’ll do it.”
Chapter 38
The courtyard gardens were quiet. It had been a while since I ventured out this way, what with mental breakdowns, John, daily sex and all that distracting stuff. So, after Simon left, I ambled for a bit, loitering, moving from one spot to the next and enjoying a small moment of solitude. Now and then, I came across one or two people, but otherwise the place was the embodiment of tranquility. Some just sat, reading or meditating, while a few shared time with friends. They greeted me with easy smiles and carried on with what they were doing.
Though winter had settled in, the screens were up to their max, buffering and melting snow and ice, cocooning the courtyard in a surreal ambiance of a winter wonderland. The temperature was set to chilly; just enough so you knew it was winter. Beyond the screens, the mountains were nothing but blurry shadows and mists, the skies an ominous steel.
It seemed to reflect my mood. The more I dwelled on it, the worse I felt that I hadn’t said anything to John. Such an idiot. But what could I have told him, other than some blatantly wild accusation that his brother had been at Lorcan’s house and in the company of Michael Ho? John would have had a fit and thought I was mad. What if I was wrong? Of all the people in the world, I was accusing the brother of the World President. I must be wrong. Simon would find out the truth, and I’d be branded the crazy one. There goes my life in this future. Again.
I tried to think of other things, but like a morbid fascination, my thoughts kept veering back to Adam. I considered his life. The overlooked brother who couldn’t rule an empire because of his ailing health, so had to settle for a different calling and let the younger brother take the prize. Was that enough to push a man over the edge to become a monster? Maybe it was. Lorcan had become obsessed on revenge because of what happened to his mother. While that was somewhat understandable, most would cry foul and maybe go to the media, not take up arms and seek out destruction. Would not being World President affect someone like Adam that way? According to John, Adam was an egoist; he was also brilliant, greedy, and hindered. And didn’t all those factors add up to someone who craved power? Coveted it? Maybe. Maybe he—
“Lost in your thoughts, are we?”
I screeched in fright and spun around. Adam Lancaster stood with hands behind his back, head tipped to one side, a crooked smile on his face, and that intense Lancaster stare.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. It seems I have a habit of doing so.” He inclined his head in an apology. “I heard you like to come out here, so I took a chance and, surprise, here you are.”
I waved a hand to dismiss his apology, somewhat recovered from my fright, but not from the thoughts running through my head moments previous—which I was dead certain were clearly visible on my face.
“I thought I’d get some fresh air, so to speak.
” I indicated the weather screens with a shrug. My face burned with guilt, and the ground looked profoundly interesting.
“How are you today? You worried me last night.” Adam leaned forward, Lancaster-stare in full inspection mode. “You had poor John worried out of his mind. And he’s not one to worry so easily.”
“I’m fine. It was the wine and too much rich food.” I turned away a bit to deflect his shrewd inspection, and made as if to take a stroll.
He followed suit, gingerly taking my arm with the tips of his fingers as if to guide me. I resisted the urge to recoil from his touch. With horror, I realized that, in my haste to get dressed, I’d completely forgotten to wear my body-shield. John would go absolutely ape-shit worried if he found out. I was absolutely ape-shit worried already at finding myself in Adam’s company. And unprotected. I hadn’t even remembered my pocket-krima. I vowed not to forget again. Ever.
“I quite agree.” Adam walked companionably beside me. “Rich food, that is. Never did agree with me, what with my history of ills. Lactose intolerant, gluten intolerant. Everything intolerant, it seems.” He gave my arm a light squeeze. “Same thing happens to me. Don’t feel bad or embarrassed.”
I tried to smile back, failed, so instead focused at the ground. “Thanks.”
“Do I make you nervous?” He said it so casually, so abruptly, that I jerked my head up to look at him.
“What?”
“I know those stories Aline spoke of last night were a bit exaggerated, but I assure you, I’m quite harmless, and not anywhere near the lech she makes me out to be. That would require human contact. I prefer virtual companionship, myself,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
“The stories?” What the hell had they been talking about last night? I watched as he pressed a hand to his mouth, suppressing a smile—his left hand, with the ornate ring. I stared, unable to take my eyes off it.
“Oh, that’s right. You were getting sick just then. The women of my life. Those ‘wild and brazen whores’ were Aline’s exact words.” Adam noticed my attention on his ring. “My father’s ring.”
“Oh. It’s, uhh, very…unusual.”
“Onyx set in platinum.” He brandished it before me like a king of old, as if expecting me to kiss it.
I stared at it. It was an elaborately molded dragon’s body, twisted and turned to form the loop of the ring, and at the top, clutched in the dragon’s claw was a round black onyx. It looked very Harley-Davidson, Goth, rock and roll and heavy metal.
“It’s probably not worth much at all these days. But it’s more the sentimental value I cherish.” Adam gave it a fond look, then tucked his hand behind his back. So like John. “Tell me, Josie. How long have you been a spy?”
“What?”
“Come now. I know John speaks highly of your skills, but there’s no need to play coy with me.” He gave me another of those long, penetrating looks.
“Uhm. Not long.” What else could I say? “About a year or so.”
“You know, I must confess, I’ve tried to run a check on you. A habit of mine, I’m sorry. I came up empty. Makes me wonder just how deep cover you are.” He cocked an eyebrow. The light reflecting off the mountainside gave his already pale face a spectral appearance. “Where on earth did you materialize from?”
Tell the truth—or close to it. “Canada.”
“Indeed?” He inclined his head again, eyes never leaving mine. “Where exactly? I’ve been there a number of times. Fabulous country.”
“Oh…here and there. I moved around a lot. Ended up in Prince Edward Island.” Well, I did!
“Ah, the new training facility there. I hear it’s fantastic. They have just completed a new defense post there as well. Big secret stuff. John won’t tell me anything about it.” Adam waved fingers airily as if shrugging were too much effort, took a breath, and glanced at the scenery.
We had walked a little distance, and the edge of the waterfall was just visible amid the gray fog. The frigid temperatures had made the waterfall thinner, a weak trickle barely able to withstand being frozen.
“You must think it very inquisitive of me to wonder about you.” Adam’s eyes were still cast far away. “But I only have John’s interests at heart.” He turned sharply, and gave me his full attention. “Some might wonder whether a spy—even if she’s one of our own—has any business being interested in the World President. You do see where I’m coming from, don’t you?”
I nodded, and swallowed a curse. I remembered their mother’s plight. Adam Lancaster was starting to get annoying. “It would be scandalous, not to mention a very tricky and sensitive issue. You want to know what my intentions are. I take it you asked your brother the same question? And if I might assume, John didn’t tell you much. So you’ve come here to ask me instead.”
“Very astute.” He seemed pleased.
“I’ll tell you this much. My interest in John is private. His interest in me is private. Our mutual interest is private. And whatever he chooses to disclose about it, I’ll stand by it.”
“Ah. This sounds suspiciously like love. A steadfast allegiance. No wonder John is so dull-headed these days.”
I snorted and looked off.
“You’re not really a spy, are you?” he said flatly.
“What?”
Adam sighed, took a short stroll, tweaked a leaf off a shrub and circled back. “Josie, you forget who I am. How I grew up. I may be a sickly man far removed from this place, but I am still a Lancaster. I was born one and taught like one. And I think like one. I know a spy when I see one, just as I know this leaf is from a cherry tree. John knows I don’t believe him and he wouldn’t expect me to. So, there’s no need to keep up the charade. Now who are you?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” I returned his steely stare. “I made a promise not to tell. And what does it matter to you? This doesn’t concern you, and if it did, why does it?”
“Ah, secretive,” he mused. “A mystery. No wonder John is intrigued. Tell me, does he know all your secrets?”
Before I could stop myself, it was out my mouth. “I keep no secrets from him. And what about you? What secrets do you have? Does John know about them? I’m sure if he were to ask you things about your life, you might get evasive too.”
Adam quirked an eyebrow as if to frown, but then stopped. His face rapidly went from bland to suspicious, then curious. Then he laughed. I jerked back, it was that sudden.
“You are a curious woman! Wherever did they find you?” Adam’s laughter subsided, and he grinned with no trace of malice.
I was confused, suspicious. If he was who I thought he was, whatever I told him he’d know to be a lie. If he knew Michael Ho or Lorcan, he’d know I’d been there. So what game was he playing? Did he think I didn’t recognize him—suspect him? How could he? I never actually saw him. And he never really saw me. But he may have heard about me and was just testing me to see if I knew anything. So then, why try to have me killed the second time? Did they still think I knew something? My head spun trying to figure it out.
“If I told you where they found me, you’d think me more a liar than you already think I am.” I stared him down for a moment, enough to get the point across, then turned to leave.
“Josie, wait.” Adam approached me cautiously, his expression unreadable. “I meant what I said.” His tone gentle, wavering, like a tweak of remorse. But I couldn’t tell whether it was forced or not. “John’s best interests concern me—worry me, I should say. He’s in a very precarious position and I only want what is best for him. You can understand that, can you not? Yes, I’m a bit pushy and nosy, but I only do so to get to the truth. And if something smells suspicious to me, I’m going to dig until I unearth it. These incidents that have been occurring, they worry me, too. Why do you think I’m here? I want to offer my help to him. And if by helping, I step on some toes to get at the big picture, I will not apologize for it. I love my brother and my sister. But…I like you. I see why John likes you. And I have offended
you, and for that, I will apologize. John cares for you a great deal. I can see that too. I just had to be sure, you understand.”
“I do understand. And thanks for your apology. But you’re making me out to be some kind of monster. So you’ll forgive if I wonder what kind of monster you are.” I turned and left. My mind swirled in confusion. He sounded genuine, nearly distraught with concern.
Was I wrong about him?
I needed to hear from Simon. And soon.
* * *
My appetite for lunch evaporated, so instead I moped around the house, flitting from one room to the next. As if the weather tracked my mood, another winter storm brewed outside. I spent close to an hour just staring out from the darkened terrace, watching the maddening swirl of snow and wind and distant flashes of lightning, the impenetrable gray clouding everything. Trudi had the good sense to steer clear of me, sensing my mood to be as dark and stormy as the world outside.
When John came in, I barely registered him until he cleared his throat for the second time. I turned around and found him looking just as troubled as I was.
“Hey,” I said.
“How are you feeling? Better?” He approached to where I reclined on one of the lounge chairs and ran a warm hand through my hair. He didn’t sit.
“Much. Thanks.” I leaned my head on his thigh. “You look off. Everything okay with you?”
He made a soft grunt, so I looked up. John gazed out at the storm, grinding his teeth and clamping his mouth. With a mild shrug, he walked off and propped on the banister ledge, facing me.
“Just some trouble. Network failure in a sector. Might be nothing, but we’re on full alert. And…some other things.” He didn’t elaborate, but watched me with a steely stare.
“Full alert? As in what?” His unwavering attention on me grew uncomfortable. He didn’t do it very often now, but his intense inspection of me was still unnerving, and at times, scary. “You think it was on purpose?”
He nodded. “It was the outer access points, made to look as if the storm knocked down the power, but it wasn’t. How was Adam this morning?”