[A Thousand Faces 01.0] A Thousand Faces

by Janci Patterson

  When Aida disappeared upstairs again, I sat next to Kalif at his desk. "What was that about?" I asked.

  "It's nothing," he said. "It just means Dad's finally found an opening at Eravision." He'd been teasing me all day, but now the laughter was gone from his voice.

  I rested my elbows on the edge of the desk. "We did that yesterday. How hard could it be?"

  Kalif cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, Dad works differently from the rest of us."

  I dropped one hand to the desk, knocking my knuckles against it. "Quit being cryptic."

  Kalif's shoulders hunched. "He's seducing someone, okay? It's his preferred method."

  My stomach turned. "Oh."

  Kalif sighed. "Yeah."

  We all did questionable things on jobs, but seducing someone for money wasn't just a betrayal of a stranger. It was a pretty sleazy thing to do to your real-life spouse and family. "I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have pushed. I just didn't expect the answer to be so . . ."

  "Disgusting?"

  I grimaced. "That's a word for it."

  Kalif shook his head. "He's always been like that. He says it's because people with their clothes off will tell you anything."

  I squirmed. "Seems like it would be effective. But you don't believe that's why he does it?"

  He gave me a look. "Would you?"

  I cringed. "And he talks to you about that? Like it's normal?"

  Kalif pushed his stool away from the computer. "Even if he didn't, I've seen the files. Sometimes I wish I didn't know the things I learn in there."

  And to think I'd been jealous that he got to be so involved in that aspect of the job. "What about your mom?" I asked. "Is she okay with it?"

  Kalif shrugged. "She deals with it. Better than being alone, I guess." His face was shifting to look more like his mom. It wasn't hard to guess whose side he took in all this.

  I couldn't help but be a little relieved about that.

  But my stomach twisted further, thinking about the mission files. If Kalif read about everything that happened on missions, he'd know all kinds of things I didn't. "What about my parents?" I asked.

  He looked up at me. "What about them?"

  I squirmed. "Are they . . . seducing people?"

  Kalif shook his head. "If they're taking those jobs, they're not turning in notes about them."

  My body relaxed. "I don't think they are. They're pretty careful about not hurting each other."

  Kalif's face turned curious. "They seem like they're really in love. That's not an act?"

  "No," I said. "Sometimes it gets pretty mushy."

  He smiled. "Better than the alternative."

  "Yes," I said. "Much better." I wrung my hands a little, and then shoved them into my pockets. "Sorry to bring all this up."

  He put a hand on my arm. "It's okay. It's good to know that some people have functional relationships."

  I suppressed the goosebumps sprouting up my arms. From the way he looked at me, I couldn't help but feel like he was thinking about our future.

  The one that would be over as soon as we found my parents.

  "Keep an eye on that tracker," I said. "We need to know as soon as Susan leaves."

  And if Kalif noted my rapid change of subject, when he turned back to his computer, he didn't let it show.

  At seven o'clock, Kalif's tracking program showed Susan's vehicle heading north. It stopped again two hours later; the GPS put it in a subdivision on the outskirts of Tracy.

  "Guess she didn't move closer," Kalif said.

  "Sucks for her," I said, "but safer for me."

  Kalif kissed me goodbye when I left. He sat on the stool, and I stood in front of him, my hands tangled in his hair. "I wish I could go with you," he said. "But I'm more help here."

  I smiled down at him, backing away. "I'll be careful," I said. "I'll call you when I'm inside."

  Kalif took both my hands in his. "What are you going to do if you get caught? If they're expecting shifters, you might not be able to just change and get away."

  I took a deep breath. "I'll send you a blank text if anything drastic happens," I said. "And you can tell your parents. Just . . . don't let them leave me there."

  Kalif squeezed my hands. "I won't. Believe me. Besides, I don't think they would treat you the same way as your parents. Dad's much more likely to think you're the sort of person who needs saving."

  Ick. "Let's hope he's wrong about that." I squeezed his hands back, and our fingertips lingered as I moved away, breaking apart only when our arms could no longer reach. I'd lengthened my arm a little, to hold on longer. I couldn't be certain, but I thought he'd done the same.

  As I left his house, the space beside me felt empty. But my mind cleared, no longer tracking his every motion. Today I'd work sharper alone.

  At home, I changed into my Susan costume, and paced the halls until midnight, to be sure that Megaware was as empty as possible. Before I left, I checked myself in the mirror, making sure I could slip in and out of Susan's persona. The details of the face were the most important—people would notice right away if I got it wrong.

  I drove back to Megaware and parked several blocks away this time, in a lot that was free after midnight. It wasn't until after I parked that I thought about the dangers of walking four blocks alone downtown in the middle of the night, but I got out of my car and tried to walk like it didn't bother me. I saw a few figures moving in the shadows, but I moved toward the Megaware building with purpose. At least I hadn't brought a purse—that was my excuse for going inside. I'd left it in my office, like an idiot, and I just had to have it back tonight. But it also meant I had nothing for a thief to snatch.

  I moved to the back entrance of the Megaware building and up to the keypad. I pushed the button at the bottom of the pad, which lit up with the numbers zero to nine, in a scrambled order. I entered the code, and the door clicked.

  Since this was a back door, it led into a hallway instead of a lobby. I eyed the sides of the wall, checking for cameras, and paid careful attention to the give of the floor as I stepped in, searching for anything that might indicate a pressure plate. I was so busy searching for shifter traps that it wasn't until the door closed behind me that I saw the card reader at the other end, in front of another door, a security camera pointed right at it. Classic man trap. I tried the door, but wasn't surprised to find it locked.

  No shifter-specific tech in sight, but they'd cornered me with regular tech just as well. I didn't have a card. Even if that data had been in the profile, badge ID codes changed often in high security facilities. I checked the lock. It was sealed with bars triggered by electrical pulses from the card reader. We owned the equipment to foil it, but I hadn't brought it with me.

  Instead, I picked up the emergency phone. Dial 4 for Lobby, the sign told me. So I did.

  I waited for the guard to answer the phone, but instead a popping noise came through a speaker in the ceiling, which probably routed to his handheld instead of to the phone in the lobby. I hadn't noticed it, which was sloppy of me. One point for the guard, zero for me.

  "Can I help you?" the guard asked, his voice crackling through the static. He was starting off polite. Good move on his part.

  I turned my face up to the security camera so he could see Susan's features below the hat. "I'm sorry," I said. "I left my purse in my office, key card and all. Could you let me in so I can get it?"

  There was a silence, probably as he checked the video feed. "Oh, Ms. Aftland," he said. "I didn't recognize you in that hat."

  I controlled my urge to twitch. If he knew to look out for shifters, the hat would be exactly the kind of discrepancy that would peak his suspicions. I needed to be more aware of those things—people who knew about shifters were rare, so I didn't have a lot of training in dealing with them.

  But if I'd raised red flags, he didn't show it. "Couldn't wait until tomorrow, eh?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "If it's not in my office I need to start calling the credit card companie
s. Don't want to give a thief a head start."

  "All right. I'll be right down."

  He wasn't just going to buzz me through. Two points for him.

  I just hoped he wasn't coming to get a closer look at my hair.

  When he opened the door, I recognized the guard from the parking garage. His ID was pinned to his breast pocket—Aaron Fern.

  "Thanks, Aaron," I said. At least that wasn't a name with common nicknames. I never knew what to call a Richard or a Michael or an Elizabeth.

  Aaron nodded. He took a good look at me, but didn't seem to find anything out of place. "I suppose you'll need to be let into your office, as well?"

  I gave him an apologetic smile. "Yes, sorry."

  "Not a problem. That's my job."

  He hesitated, waiting for me to go first.

  My heart beat faster, and I controlled my breath and my skin tone, so my nervousness wouldn't show. I walked in front of Aaron down the long hallway, until I spotted the elevator. I went right to it, like I'd been walking there all along, and stood in the corner, letting Aaron man the control panel.

  It turned out Susan's office was on the fourth floor. I edged backward in the elevator, so Aaron stood much closer to the door than me. When the elevator doors opened, it was only natural for him to take the lead.

  And, thankfully, he did.

  He led me to Susan's office, and unlocked the door with a proper key. I looked around once inside. The office was spotless, without so much as a paper out of place. And, of course, no purse.

  Aaron waited in the doorway. Three points for him. If I didn't step my game up, this was all going to be for nothing.

  "It looks like it's not here," I said. "That's not good."

  "Sorry you made the trip back, then." Still he waited, but he didn't look alarmed. He probably wanted to make sure I didn't get stranded somewhere else in the building without my keys. I needed some reason to be alone.

  "I'm going to call my husband for those credit card numbers," I said. Then it came to me. "Could you check with the janitorial staff to see if they found it, just in case?"

  Aaron paused, and I held my breath. That was exactly the sort of thing he wouldn't do, if he thought I might be a shifter.

  But he gave me a sharp nod. "Will do." And then he left.

  I closed the door, giving the room a once over, looking for cameras. Was Aaron watching through a video feed outside, waiting for me to slip up?

  I kept my persona up just in case, glad I'd given Aaron a reason to be on my phone. I sat down at the computer. Then I dialed Kalif.

  "I'm in," I said.

  "Is the computer on?"

  "Not yet."

  "Boot it up, then follow my instructions exactly."

  Kalif gave me a series of keystrokes to hit, and I worked through the process of giving him remote access. From there he'd be able to get into the main system without having to deal with the firewall. By the time anyone found the security breach, he'd have transferred all the information we needed to our server, and then covered his tracks.

  I was glad he was good at this, because I was clueless.

  A minute after I finished, a knock came at the door. I stood up just as Aaron came in, hands empty.

  "They didn't find a thing," he said. "I'm sorry."

  "Would you believe it?" I said. "My husband went to get the numbers, and there was my purse, sitting right next to the filing cabinet. I swear I looked there twice."

  Aaron smiled. "And after you made the drive. Isn't that how it always works?"

  I tried not to wilt in relief. I left the office and shut the door. If Aaron noticed that I'd left the computer on, he didn't say a word.

  I thanked Aaron again as he let me out. As always, I hoped he didn't get in trouble for what I'd done. He was good at his job.

  I'd scored only one point against him, but as it turned out, that was the only one that mattered.

  Ten

  That night, I couldn't sleep, and Kalif didn't. He sat at his computer, looking through the information we'd stolen, searching for clues. I stared at my phone, checking to make sure it was on, waiting for the text message from Kalif saying he'd found out where my parents were. When my blinds turned yellow with daylight, he still hadn't texted me. I sent him a message instead: Fall asleep?

  I wish, he answered. Still looking.

  At nine AM he appeared on my doorstep with red-rimmed eyes. "Breakfast," he said. "But still nothing."

  I knit my fingers together. "Will you be able to keep looking with your parents around?"

  "I should be able to," he said. "They won't check what I'm doing on the computer. But it might take some more time."

  He'd already been looking for so long, I felt bad pushing him for more. But they'd been gone for too many hours. If they'd been sold for research, they could be literally anywhere by now. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  Kalif shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

  I tried not to look sullen. Teaching me the skills I'd need to sort through encrypted data would take much longer than doing it himself. "It's okay," I said. "I'll bring my books."

  For breakfast we had spinach quiche topped with feta, and delicious though it was, I couldn't help but think that if Mel and Aida put half the work into finding my parents as they did into their breakfast food, my parents would have been home by now. Kalif scarfed his food down faster than I would have expected from someone who'd spent the night poring over data, and slipped back to his room before his parents had even served themselves. I ate more slowly. I wasn't in a rush to go hover over his shoulder, since that's how I'd likely be spending the rest of the day.

  Mel walked through the kitchen and waved good morning. I met his eyes like everything was normal, and tried not to think about the things he'd been doing to find my parents. I hoped Aida wasn't mad at me, since my family was the cause of this particular philandering. Although, to listen to Kalif, it seemed like he didn't particularly need the excuse.

  As I forked a bite of mushroom crust into my mouth, both Aida and Mel sat down across the table from me, looking somber.

  I put down my fork. "Bad news?" I asked.

  Mel nodded, his face grave. "Unfortunately. Things settled down over at Eravision, and I got in to see the security video. It looks like your parents were taken captive."

  Instead of faking shock, I nodded like I'd expected that. "That seems like the only reasonable explanation for why they haven't come back."

  Aida reached across the table and took my hand. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to find them. We're doing the best we can."

  "Do you have any idea who took them?"

  Aida and Mel exchanged a glance.

  "We have a working theory," Mel said. "Do you remember, a few months before we met you, your dad ran a job for a company called Megaware?"

  It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. I assumed that Aida and Mel had had this theory for a while, and just now felt they had to break it to me, but we were so far ahead of them that I could barely compose a civil response. "That's what I thought, too. They might have been following Dad, even after all this time."

  "We're working on the lead," Aida said. "We just want you to be prepared. If your parents were kidnapped by people who know what they are . . ."

  I tensed. "It's bad. I get that." And I certainly didn't need her finishing that sentence to add to my visions of torture and experimentation.

  Mel gave me a sympathetic glance. "It might be a while before we find them. Why don't we rearrange our office room, and you can sleep here? We don't like the idea of you all alone and worried over there every night."

  I considered that. Staying here would make it harder for me to sneak out at night, if Kalif and I needed to run more missions. Their office was right next to their bedroom; they might also be offering so that they could keep an eye on me. But as soon as Kalif found a lead at Megaware, we'd probably tell them what we'd been doing; we'd be stronger as a joint force than Kalif and I we
re alone. Staying here would put me closer to Kalif, and closer to the investigation.

  "Okay," I said.

  Aida smiled. "Pack some things today. I'll have the office all ready for you by tonight."

  I nodded. "I'll do that. Thank you."

  Hopefully they wouldn't pitch me out again when they realized I'd been making out with their son.

  After breakfast I sat on Kalif's bed with his laptop, trying not to fume about Mel and Aida's refusal to let me help them. Kalif hunched over his keyboard, focusing on the data in front of him. I wanted to sit next to him, but kept myself glued to the bed. After all my lectures about how we should focus, I couldn't make a hindrance of myself now.

  I meant to study, but instead I wandered onto Kalif's conspiracy forums, searching for images of dead shifters. Aida and Mel were right; I needed to be prepared for the worst.

  The nuts on the conspiracy boards argued endlessly about how to spot a shifter, some claiming that we couldn't change our eye color, others claiming that we could only change at night. It was nonsense, of course. I told myself that their theories on death were probably just as nonsensical, but that didn't prepare me for the images of the bodies.

  There were three of them in all; three people who'd died within days of the photos, according to the posts. Their faces were sunken, like their features had melted back into their skulls. Acute post-mortem myopathy, the morticians called it. The conspiracy nuts called them shifters.

  I was so absorbed in the photos that I didn't see Kalif walk up next to me until he put his hand on my shoulder. "They're just crazies," he said. "It's not real."

  I still couldn't rip my eyes from them. "The photos are doctored, then?"

  He sat down beside me on the bed. "No, those are real. But it's some drug effect, something people do to disguise dead bodies. That's not us."

  I leaned against him. "How do you know?"

  He shrugged. "I guess I don't. But I also don't believe anything I read on those forums. Did you read that we can turn invisible? Or that we're all assassins? Or that one of us killed President Kennedy?"

  I shut the laptop. He was right. I was clearly losing my mind. "Fine," I said. "They're crazy. Give me something productive to do before I join them."