Children of Genesis (The Gateway Series Book 1)

by Toby Minton

  Sam looked down and breathed his quiet laugh. “No. No kids in my life. No wife. No girlfriend. Just some really pretty vegetables.”

  She snorted at the images her twisted mind concocted, but his “no girlfriend” statement swamped her mirth. With one statement he’d managed to undo all the good her mind had done over the past few minutes adjusting to Sam as a friend. They lapsed back into silence.

  This time Sam stepped in, which was fitting since this pause was his fault. He flicked away the grass he’d knotted and looked back at the skimmer. “So are you going drive that thing tonight or what?”

  Well played, Sam Lee. Hero goggles firmly back in place.

  “Hell yes, I am!”

  * * *

  “OK. Tell me again what you’re going to do,” Sam said from behind her.

  He’d driven the skimmer down to a narrow patch of muddy sand at the edge of the sound before letting her climb in front of him. Then he’d worked the controls with his arms reaching around her to ease them out over the water. Nikki had been ready to grab the accelerator and tear away, but apparently he had other plans—much more boring plans. He’d explained all the controls again and made her repeat what each one did. Now he wanted her to talk through, again, how she was going to have a good time instead of actually having it. He was really starting suck the fun out of this.

  “Well,” she said, affecting her best ditz voice. “I grab this rubber thingy here, right? Then I push this shiny doohickey until the flashy part has a one on it. Hmmm, then I put my little hand on the other rubber thingy—” She dropped back to her normal tone and grated, “and I twist it hard enough to dump your patronizing ass in the drink.”

  “Good,” Sam said, his tone a little choked but otherwise ignoring her frustration. “But you forgot to disengage the stabilizer. Walk through it again. A couple more times and you might be ready to go.”

  That was the last straw.

  Nikki spun around to give him the shouting he deserved, only to see him shaking with silent laughter. That’s why his voice had been funny before. He’d been laughing at her this whole time.

  “I couldn’t resist,” he said through his quiet laugh. “I had to see how many times you’d go through it. You had it right the first time.”

  For the second time tonight, Nikki was speechless. Her mouth worked, her eyes went from wide to squinted and back, but she couldn’t force a coherent word out to get a tirade going. Finally she just pursed her lips and blew out a long breath. She gave Sam her best you-suck look while he settled his laughter, then she turned back to the controls.

  “You might want to hold on,” she said as she put the skimmer in gear and adjusted her hands on the grips.

  “I got it,” he replied even though his hands weren’t on her yet. “Just go easy on the accelerator at first. It’s a little touchy.”

  “We have that in common,” she grumbled. Then she looked back at him. Instead of holding on to her, he was gripping the frame behind his butt. He was either terrified of girls or he was way too proper for his own good. Either one might explain why he didn’t have a woman in his life. “Suit yourself.”

  He asked for this, she thought, smiling after she turned her face away from him. She hooked her toe under the stabilizer lever like he’d taught her. Then she baited the hook with, “Um, shouldn’t the accelerator handle be moving? I’m twisting, but nothing.”

  He leaned to the right to see if she’d disengaged the hand break.

  Gotcha. Nikki twisted the accelerator hard, kicking the stabilizer and leaning left as the skimmer lurched forward and banked into a hard turn. She felt his weight leave her and heard the splash, but she was too preoccupied with getting the skimmer back under control to truly enjoy her victory.

  She snaked back and forth across the water as she struggled to steady the thing but overcorrected each time. Finally she remembered to ease up on the speed and just let it even out on its own as she slowed.

  The ride smoothed and Nikki’s smile grew. She leaned, a little this time, and twisted the accelerator a little more, making a nice smooth turn back to Sam. He stood up from the shallow water as she approached, shaking his head and acknowledging with his smile and nod that he deserved his bath.

  “I think you have it,” he called.

  “I know, right?” she said. She eased up and kicked on the stabilizer to hover a few meters from him. “I’ve mastered this thing. I could drive this baby—” anywhere, she thought.

  She was alone on the skimmer. She was in complete control for the first time in weeks.

  Nikki’s eyes went to the glow of Seattle’s lights where a spotlight was slowly waving back and forth across the clouds, the kind of light they used to guide kids to the more organized raves in the Wasteland. She could go anywhere.

  When she looked back at Sam, the smile slowly melted off his face. He could see what she was thinking.

  “Nikki, please—”

  “Don’t be mad,” she said, shaking her head and biting her lip to keep her smile from spoiling her apology. “I’ll be back to get you before you know it.”

  Sam started toward her, the water already almost waist high on him. He had to know he couldn’t reach her before she took off, but the look in his eyes said a little thing like impossibility wouldn’t keep him from trying.

  Nikki popped the stabilizer and sped away without looking back.

  Sam didn’t shout at her, and he didn’t shoot her in the back as she pulled away—both good signs. Nikki hoped that meant he was already forgiving her for leaving him stranded. Now if she could just shake off the guilt suddenly weighing her down, she could enjoy this night like she was meant to.

  She skimmed over the water, angling toward the lights guiding her in. Seattle: birthplace of crappy weather and home to people so sick of crappy weather they stay inside and party. Nikki had wanted to hit this town for years.

  She poured on the speed and felt the cold, salty spray hit her face each time the front of the air cushion broke one of the bigger waves. She smiled and went even faster.

  Before long the skyline of Seattle came into view as Nikki banked the skimmer around a thick spit of land. A number of ships were moving around the sound this close to the city, but Nikki had no problem zipping around them as she skimmed closer to the waterfront, looking for something to tell her which wharves were for the ferries. She hadn’t put a lot of thought into this part of her plan. She’d trusted the party gods to guide her right where she wanted to go with their giant spotlight. But they’d let her down. The spotlight was waving in front of a broad park area by the water where what looked like a wedding reception was getting up to speed. Not exactly the kind of crowd Nikki needed.

  The Seattle waterfront was a lot bigger than she’d thought, and Nikki was starting to wonder if she’d made a colossal mistake. Then she caught sight of a ferry puttering across the sound toward the city.

  Thank you, party gods, she thought, slowing the skimmer and dropping in behind the ferry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.

  Following a ferry into port turned out to be agonizingly slow business, but Nikki amused herself, and a few kids on the back of the ferry who’d spotted her, by trying some skimmer tricks on the ferry’s wake. She almost flipped herself into the drink a time or two, but she pulled off a few things that must have looked pretty cool. The kids briefly switched from taunts and goofy insults to cheers and applause during her moments of brilliance.

  When Nikki spotted an identical ferry at a terminal in the general direction her guide was headed, she gave her little fans a wave and swerved out of the wake. She twisted the accelerator all the way back and rocketed ahead toward the terminal, no doubt giving the kids another thrill.

  The people on the water taxi slip weren’t so thrilled when they had to jump out of her way as she hopped the landing and raced up the walkway. She knew she probably shouldn’t draw so much attention to herself, but she really didn’t see any easier way up into the city. The main ferry terminal
was too high off the water, as was the rest of the railed waterfront she could see.

  Still, she slowed and eased out into the street traffic like a good girl, drawing only a few stares from the men headed out for a night on the town, the kind of stares she was used to. Hover vehicles weren’t exactly uncommon, especially in the cities proper where some people still had money. Hers was probably the only one that could pull thirty-two hundred kilometers out of a full charge, and it was definitely the only one that could run silent at over two hundred kilometers per hour, but nobody could tell that from looking at it in the shuffling city traffic.

  Nikki once again waffled in her devotion to the party gods as she searched the waterfront roads for her destination. She cursed them when she’d covered every street within three blocks of the ferries with no club in sight. Then she begged their forgiveness when she spotted the entrance to Emerald by chance while pulling yet another U-turn. It was tucked between a parking garage, which had been abandoned during remodel or repairs, and a Turkish bakery in an older building that had probably housed a dozen random businesses in the past decade.

  She crisscrossed the same few streets three times before she figured out how to get behind the club. Once she finally made it to the darker alleys, she cruised past the club’s emergency exit and looked for a place to stash the skimmer. Sam was already peeved enough. She didn’t want to have to tell him she let somebody boost his ride while she was getting her party on.

  The alley dead-ended into the side of the parking garage, which would have been a perfect hiding spot if it wasn’t closed off on the first level with heavy chain fencing. That was probably also why the employee who’d parked in the back had just parked up against the fence.

  Nikki grinned and backed the skimmer up to get a running start. The first level of the garage was locked up tight. The second level was wide open, and the skimmer was only about a meter of lift short of reaching it.

  “I hope you know a good mechanic,” Nikki said to whoever had so kindly parked back here.

  She gunned the engine and shot silently toward the parked car. At the last second, she cranked the air cushion as high as it would go and vaulted on top of the bubbly electric car, hearing the roof crinkle and pop under her. From there she shot straight into the concealing darkness of the second level of the garage.

  Feeling pretty pleased with herself, Nikki parked the skimmer and did a quick clothes swap out of her backpack. The sneakers, phoenix tee, and short jacket went in; her combat boots and a shimmery apron shirt from Kate came out. The top was no good for the chill Seattle night, but it would be perfect for the heat of the dance floor. Besides, if she didn’t look good enough to get in without an ID, the whole trip was a bust.

  Her hair she couldn’t do much about in the dark without decent supplies. She’d known that would be the case when she planned this trip, so she’d twisted it up into a series of tight knots to make it as wind resistant as possible while maintaining enough hotness to get through the bouncers on the door. A few pieces had broken loose, but she hoped they just added to the look.

  She dropped to the roof of the electric car, which was only a little caved in, and then to the alley. She started down the alley, already moving to the beat of the music seeping through the walls as she headed for the front entrance. She was feeling so confident now that she was this close to her goal, she just knew she’d get in. In fact, if she got the right bouncer, she wouldn’t even have to pay a cover.

  She didn’t.

  One look at her, and the beefy, bearded guy on the door waved her through with two other girls he picked out of the half dozen people waiting to get in.

  Thank you, party gods, she thought with a wicked grin that only got bigger when she got her first look at the warehouse style of the place and the smoky dance floor lit by sweeping colored spotlights and slow strobes. Nikki was home.

  She went straight to the dance floor.

  For a thousand euphoric heartbeats, Nikki was lost to the music, to the feel of the crowd. She forgot who she was, forgot everyone else in her life, and became one with the bass vibrating through her and the unique shared energy of a club after midnight. She shared her personal space with a man here, a woman there, flowing freely from one to the next on the music’s building wave of energy. For Nikki and others like her on the floor, the concept of a single partner was beyond comprehension. The energy they enjoyed was a living collective. They all contributed. They all drew on it. Concepts like jealousy and possession just didn’t belong.

  The couples on the floor were a different animal. The energy they were feeling was something just as strong but more contained. They didn’t share. They didn’t belong to the collective. But they still contributed to the atmosphere in their own way, to the ebb and flow of the dance floor, so Nikki felt the same sense of kinship toward them as she did to the loners. For the night, they were all her family.

  Then there were the prowlers. Always the prowlers. No matter what city she visited, no matter what club, there were always the cologne- and perfume-drenched stalkers looking to hook up with anyone willing. They didn’t share space so much as invade it. They tried to stake a claim where one didn’t belong. Nikki dissuaded them with long-practiced skill—sometimes with body language alone, sometimes with a look, and occasionally with a choice word or two. They were more annoying hangers-on than welcome members of the club family, but they played their role in the overall ambiance. Annoying, yes, but necessary to complete the experience.

  After a while—she had lost all sense of time the second she hit the dance floor—Nikki swayed from the floor to the bar. She’d learned long ago that euphoria alone couldn’t sustain her on a club night. If she didn’t hydrate, she faded long before she wanted, which was usually still long after most others. She was no amateur.

  She caught the eye of one of the three bartenders working the crowded bar. She was the lone girl bartender with perfect chocolate skin, a magnificent natural afro, and a sharp eye.

  “Water,” Nikki ordered.

  The girl nodded, snagged a glass and a soda gun, and started filling, already taking two other orders as she worked on Nikki’s. She was good. All three of the bartenders were. They were fast, sure-handed, and completely professional. Nikki wouldn’t be getting any drinks on the house tonight.

  That’s OK, she thought. There’s more than one way to—

  “Four shots of one fifty-one,” a voice like honeyed whiskey slid in next to her on a tall, dark, and unforgettable frame. He’d traded the rumpled military flight suit he’d been wearing in Sky City for faded jeans and an even more rumpled button up that was rolled up at the sleeves and open halfway down his chest. He finger combed his tousled dark hair back and glanced at Nikki as the bartender poured the top-shelf rum in one continuous motion across the four glasses she lined up on the bar.

  Nikki remembered those eyes. She’d never forget a pair of deep browns that promised that much trouble. She could practically feel tomorrow’s hangover already.

  Tall, dark, and perfect timing deftly snagged one of the shots with his left hand and downed it, his eyes never leaving Nikki’s. He spun the empty glass over in his fingers and slid it back across the bar upside down. A thick coin was resting on the overturned glass when he pulled his thumb away.

  “Keep it,” he said, shooting a quick wink and nod to the bartender before looking back at Nikki.

  The fact that he paid with cash was a mark in his favor with Nikki. Everybody with an official job paid with credit. They pretty much had to. They never actually saw their money. But cash meant his money came from unofficial sources, like Nikki and Michael’s did. Either that, or he didn’t want to be tracked. Again like Nikki and Michael.

  He took two of the shots this time and offered one to her with a bow of his head and a crooked smile that promised almost as much as his eyes.

  Nikki took the shot, clinked her glass to his, and threw it back. She squeezed her eyes shut at the smooth burn and sucked in a cooling bre
ath. When she opened her eyes, Mr. Bad Idea was sliding the last shot toward her with one finger.

  “A thank you,” he said, “for my improved financial situation.”

  Nikki had no idea what he was talking about, but she downed the shot anyway. Free booze didn’t have to make sense. The second one went down a little easier with the path already warmed up, but Nikki still closed her eyes, this time in appreciation of the spreading warmth.

  When she looked up, he nodded toward the dance floor. Nikki smiled. This night was getting better by the minute. She chased the rum with half the glass of water, then nodded her assent.

  They joined Nikki’s club family on the floor and were welcomed into the flow like she’d never left. Mr. Bad Idea fell right into place, moving with a smooth and confident fluid rhythm. He moved among the family like one of their own, sharing space with others as much as with Nikki. But when he moved through her space, he always stepped just inside the boundary of familiarity, and always with that promising smile.

  Nikki felt a little tremor each time he moved into her space, and a warmth in her middle that had nothing to do with the rum. Speaking of which…

  She danced up against tall, dark, and just her type, snaking her hands into his pockets as she ran them over him, not for the first time. He snagged her right wrist as her hand came out with a few of his coins.

  “My turn to buy drinks,” she said, and then bit her bottom lip and smiled. “But since I’m a little low on cash—”

  He laughed in that honeyed voice and turned her hand over to dump the coins onto his palm. “Allow me.” Then he wove through the dancers toward the bar.

  Nikki took advantage of the break to hit the ladies room. Halfway there, she opened her left hand to see what she’d scored from his other pocket. It wasn’t a coin, much to her displeasure, but a thinner disk with a button on one flat side. Looked like a recorder of some kind.

  She pressed the button but nothing happened other than the red light under the button coming on.