by Atkins, Dawn
She decided to punt. “The van broke down, so it was kind of a bust.”
“Oh.” She backed down slightly, but her cat’s eyes held Rena’s. She had the eeriest stare, as if she wanted to suck out every private thought you ever had. Maybe the drugs had kept Rena from noticing how invasive Maya was. Maybe without alcohol or drugs fogging her senses, Rena would have known better than to trust Maya. She’d like to believe that.
“Any word on a date for your meeting with Wingate?” Mason asked, his blue eye cold as ice, the brown one hard as stone.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I do have news. It turns out my father is interested in investing in NiGo.” She tried to sound excited and triumphant. “Can you believe it?”
“In what regard?” Mason asked.
“He wants to rescue the Seattle Lounge as a partner, since it’s in his town, but he also might want to invest more later, which is very, very cool.”
“That’s wonderful,” Maya said, her eyebrows spiking upward. “I’m frankly…amazed.”
“Me, too, but it’s happening all right. He did make one request.” Rena paused for a breath, pretending to be remembering his instructions. “What he wants is to appear in the webcast from the Seattle Lounge when Nigel and Naomi give their welcome remarks. And he wants me to be there, on camera with the Blackstones, to introduce him, which is really an honor, I think.”
Maya and Mason exchanged glances. “I suppose that’s natural for a father to want his daughter to be recognized publicly,” Maya said faintly.
“And the other thing—and this is very cool, Maya”—Rena hoped she hadn’t gone too rah-rah cheerleader—“my father also wants you to be there. He wants to meet the person who recruited me. After that, he’ll announce to everyone his plans for Seattle.”
“So I would be with you and Nigel…?” Maya said slowly.
“And Naomi, yes.”
Mason and Maya exchanged looks, silent messages firing between them. “I suppose we could work that out.” Maya didn’t lift her eyes from Mason’s.
“Fantastic!” Rena said. “He’ll be so pleased.”
Maya looked up at her. “This seems almost too good to be true. You were worried about even speaking to your father and now he’s completely on board?”
Rena ducked Maya’s stare. “He wants to support me in the life I’ve chosen.”
The words made her want to gag, but Maya seemed to accept them, turning to Mason. “With this good news we might continue on our chosen path a while longer, don’t you think, Mason? Rather than the alternative?” More visual debate flew between them. What was that about?
“I’d like to pin down the details with Mr. Wingate.” Mason lifted his gaze to Rena’s. “You have his phone number?”
She’d prepared for this. “All calls go through his attorney, Geoffrey Harris.” She slid Geoffrey’s business card across the table. She’d marked out Bingham’s number on the back and warned Harris’s secretary not to give him any calls that might come in from NiGo. “So, we’re set, then?”
“Evidently.” Mason’s tone said he wasn’t quite convinced.
Rena’s grin was probably too big, but she couldn’t help it. They’d stepped so neatly into her trap she’d almost heard the jaws snap on their shins.
It would happen tomorrow night, just before midnight, when the game was to be released to the Dead World, when most Lifers were gathered in the Phoenix Dome and the rest were watching their webcast monitors to hear Nigel and Naomi’s welcome, then drink a toast to themselves, the Life, and EverLife II. Two weeks ago, Rena would have reveled in that triumphant moment. Now, she had to ruin it.
While Rena waited with Nigel, Naomi, and Maya for the other Lounges to web up and for Bingham to show—he never would, of course, since she’d never called him—she would confront Maya, starting out sharing her concerns about Electrique and the tattoo ink, the blackmailed perverts and the sick Lost Lives.
If Maya didn’t come clean, admit what she and Mason had done, then Rena would show the photos of Cassie and Beth, Cassie’s file, the lab report on the ink and E, all so Lifers everywhere could see and hear the evidence of the crimes committed against them.
Rena hoped Nigel and Naomi didn’t realize the wrongs that had been done in their name and would be as outraged as the Lifers would be. Either way, Lifers would learn the truth. The instant Rena called Gage, he would alert the police—he planned to brief the detective he knew that morning—and they would arrest the culprits within minutes. Afterward, Rena would tell Lifers how much better she felt after detox—praying they would all recover as completely as she had—and promise they would figure out a better life together.
That’s if all went as planned. There were lots of ways things could go straight to hell. But Rena had decided to hope for the best. What else could she do?
…
At the crack of dawn the next morning, Rena met Gage in the parking lot of a warehouse down the block from the Lounge to get the new transmitter and listening device. Her brain was fuzzy from lack of sleep, but nothing like the fuzziness she’d gotten from the drugs she’d been taking. She would depend on adrenaline to keep her alert for the coming adventure. Standing beside the car he’d rented, since the Norton was out of commission, Rena ran through the plan once more.
As she was turning to go, Gage said, “Be careful, Rena. Don’t take any chances.”
“I won’t,” she said, but only for his benefit. She would do what had to be done no matter what.
“I wish I could be there with you.” He took her in, concern in his eyes. “If anything seems off, abort and get out. Let the police take over. I’m going to meet with Warner now.”
“I have to do this, Gage.”
“I know you do. You’re a warrior.”
She smiled. Gage understood her. That eased the tension inside her like a long-held breath. “Wait for my call, then send in the cavalry.”
His gaze held her so tight she couldn’t look away. And she didn’t want to. Gage made her feel things she’d forgotten she wanted.
Overcome by emotion, she finally broke off and stepped back. “You’d better go. Early shift starts soon.”
He gave her the Lifer salute, the gesture saying he believed in her, that he was with her in the battle ahead. She saluted back and watched him drive out of the lot, following him with her gaze until he disappeared from sight. She was surprised to notice water in her eyes.
She turned and trotted down the alley toward the employee entrance.
A half hour later, she took a seat for the managers meeting to go over last-minute party details. Rena fingered the tiny button camera, nervous as hell. How could she sit still while they talked about web feeds and appetizers and whether there were enough plastic glasses for the all-Lifer Electrique toast?
Then a Watcher entered, striding fast to Mason and Maya, where he crouched to talk urgently. He had the lightning tattoo Zeke had told her about and Rena strained to read his lips. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Then her cell phone buzzed. She leaned down to answer it.
“I’m in trouble.” Gage’s voice wobbled, as if he were running. He gasped between each words, clearly in pain. “They must have spotted me when I drove through the Lounge lot to snap a picture of the employee entrance for Warner. They’re shooting at me.”
“Are you on foot?”
“Yeah. I spun out, bashed a barrier. Not so good driving with one arm. You have to get out. They might have seen you with me. Run. Go.”
“They don’t know about me.” Maya and Mason hadn’t looked her way and the Watcher who’d reported to them was gone.
“They will soon. Leave. Be safe. Swear to me.” He seemed to be having a hard time catching his breath.
“I’ll be safe,” she said. That was all she could swear to.
“Good. I’ll get to Warner if I can. If not—” The phone cut off. He could have dropped it as he ran. He was one-armed, after all. Or he could have been shot. God, no.
S
he fought panic. Glancing up to be sure no one was watching, she pretended to paw through her messenger bag, while she hit redial. No answer. Had he been killed?
She sat up, desperate to go after Gage. He was somewhere between the Lounge and a police station, but which one?
Meanwhile, in the meeting, stupid questions were being discussed. Were there enough Lifers to pass the trays of Electrique for the toast?...Was the control panel for the fireworks in a good place?...Was the timing switch set for simultaneous release?...Were there enough chairs?
Mouthing “bathroom” to the person beside her, she ducked out of the meeting, slipping into an empty room to call 911 and report a man being shot at. She could tell the dispatcher suspected her of being crazy, but all she could do was hope Gage was on his way to his meeting with the detective. When she stood to leave the stall, her fingers were so shaky and sweaty that the phone slipped from her hand, falling into the toilet. No. Please. No. Fighting panic, she fished it from the water, pulled out the battery to try to dry it and the contacts fast.
But it was no use. The dousing had killed the phone. The screen stayed black.
She couldn’t call Gage again, so she could only hope he’d been rescued. Please be okay, Gage, she thought. Please be safe.
…
Worry about Gage buzzed constantly in Rena’s brain, but she forced herself to stay with the plan. His fate was out of her hands at the moment and the Lifers from all the Lounges were depending on her. As it turned out, the better bugs proved useless, since she was tied up with launch party tasks all day long.
Please be safe. Please be okay. Please, please, please. The mantra played in her head every second, as if her thoughts were a magician’s protection aura around Gage.
At the same time, she went through the plan in her mind. After her demonstration battle, Lionel would run his own. After that came freestyle battles for visiting Lifers. Rena would leave Lionel in charge and head upstairs. Zeke had arranged a fight between two teams of Watchers as a way to keep Mason’s guys tied up before the webcast. Zeke’s crew couldn’t wait to take down the bad ones.
Minutes before her battle was to start, Rena jogged the stairs to the Dome control room, ready to go—and to be sure her laptop was receiving her mic signal.
Despite it all—the terror for Gage, the fear her plan would fail—Rena was proud of her fighters. Through the viewing window, she saw how eager they were to perform—tight and tense, strong and faithful, eyes gleaming with their love of the fight and the Life. Half the fighters were girls and they performed with breathtaking skill.
Her eye fell on Audrey, a thin girl embarrassed into silence by a deformed lip. Battle practice had revealed her to be incredibly nimble and wiry. At the moment she was explaining a move to Boscoe. She backed up, did a cartwheel, then jumped, arms extended, and Boscoe caught her. Gorgeous. The girl was unstoppable now. Her face just glowed.
Rena’s heart tightened at the sight. No matter how tricked and used and crippled she’d been, at least she’d helped girls stand taller, fight harder, demand more. She would hold that thought as a protective shield in the coming battle.
From the sidelines below, Lionel gave her the thumbs-up. They were ready. Rena nodded, nerves zinging. She took a deep breath, hit the lights and the trumpets, and the fighters took the field. Battle on.
Despite her tension, Rena couldn’t help but see that this was the best performance yet. The fighters had finessed each move until it was a ballet, beautiful and intricate and graceful. Her girl fighters outdid themselves, bringing breathless gasps from the crowd. Lionel’s music and special effects added drama.
Rena watched it as if from a distance, her mind on the plot to come and always, always on Gage’s fate. If he died…if he’d given his life to save her and her people…how could she live with that?
When the performance ended, the entire Lifer Family went nuts, whistling, clapping, shouting wildly. She came down to the mats on wooden legs, doing her best to congratulate her fighters and accept their applause.
She was startled to see Nigel move out of the crowd toward her in the center of the battlefield. He bowed to her, and the audience of Lifers went silent in his honor. When he lifted his head, she saw tears in his eyes.
“Genevieve, you are the shining star that proves my hope,” he said so quietly only she could hear him. “You are my best wish, my dream for the future.” He swallowed hard. “You must know our intentions were of the very best.”
What was he telling her? He knew they’d done wrong? Maybe he could be Rena’s ally upstairs at the moment of truth. “Can I speak with you, Nigel? In private?”
“You’re needed here,” he said, backing away, but his eyes held hers. Electricity poured through her. Nigel might help her. He’d said he and Rena were alike. He’d been sincere, she was sure. If she could talk to him and Naomi, they might join her in exposing the others. It was a last, great hope.
She still had an hour before the webcast. Motioning Lionel over, she asked him to take over. By the time she reached the elevator, the indicator light showed Nigel was already at the penthouse level. Damn. Now she had to find Ji Jin to borrow his key.
Luckily, she spotted the K men clumped around a gaming station, Ji Jin with them. “I need your key to get up to talk to Nigel.”
Ji Jin frowned. “It is not for me to share, Rena.”
“You have to trust me. This is vital to all of us.”
He looked at her closely, very nervous, she could tell, not wanting to upset his adoptive parents. She knew he expected them to bring his sisters to America, but he feared that offending the Blackstones could end that chance. Abruptly, he thrust the card at her. “You do always the right.” He gave a short, sharp nod.
“Thank you, Ji Jin. This means everything to us.”
When the elevator reached the penthouse level, she opened the red dragon door soundlessly, peeking in, praying the housekeeper didn’t have ears as good as her silent appearances made it seem.
She saw no one and the penthouse felt dead. The plasmas were black, there were no tinkling chimes or bubbling fountain, and it smelled of cold metal. Even the white light from above seemed gray. Rena raced across the open space to the invisible door she’d seen Nigel use on her second visit.
She eased it open, finding herself in a carpeted hall. To the right was a kitchen and sitting room. Farther down and to the left she could glimpse equipment. That had to be the control room where Nigel and Naomi watched the Lounge and where they would lead the toast to EverLife II. If she couldn’t catch Nigel, she could at least plant a fancy listening device there.
“This is tumbling away from us.” Nigel’s voice, coming to her faintly from up the hall, was high and whiny. She moved closer on silent feet, listening hard. “All wrong. It’s all wrong.” Who was he talking to? Naomi?
As she neared the door, a harsh voice said, “Settle down, Nigel.” It was Maya, speaking to him as if he were a child who’d sassed her.
Rena ducked into the closest room, fighting to breathe quietly, her heartbeat galloping in her ears. With icy fingers, she found her tape recorder and activated it, holding it close to the wall, though she doubted it was strong enough to pick up the muffled voices. What about her body mic? She had no idea.
“You will be calm and assured,” Maya continued. “You will thank and praise. You will make your toast and all will unfold as it should.” She sneered the last words. “That Naomi…she’s just full of yummy gems.” Maya was making fun of Naomi? Outrage heated Rena’s cheeks.
“What of Mr. Wingate?” Nigel asked. “He offers us time, does he not?”
“Mr. Wingate is in Germany.” She spat out the words. “Darling Genevieve lied to us. When Mason couldn’t get the lawyer on the phone, he called the PR office. Turns out Bingham Wingate knows nothing of NiGo and hasn’t talked to his daughter in years.”
Damn. How could Rena talk her way out of this when the time came? Say she’d meant to call, but lost her courage? That
might work. Maya had admitted the same when she’d lied about Cassie.
“What are we to do?” Nigel sounded heartbroken.
“Start over in China,” she said on a weary sigh. “Research is unrestricted and gaming wide open. Millions of one-child princes with no jobs and time on their hands. Depression is rampant. Our intervention will be welcome. We should have started in Asia, as I said. You with your nostalgia for America.”
“Perhaps if we sold our holdings…?”
“We’ve been through this. Real estate has tanked. The game profits will be too late and our financial needs are immediate.” Her voice went softer now, kinder. “Have you forgotten, my love? We are close to a cure, but more must be done and your disease is relentless.” She paused. “As far as that goes, we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been so foolish in New Mexico.”
“But what of our children?”
“They gave all they could for the greater good.”
“And the medicine for tonight? It won’t dissipate too quickly?”
“There will be time enough.”
What medicine? Lifers were getting more drugs?
Rena noticed the strong odor of Maya’s perfume around her. She glanced around and saw that the bed held a half-packed suitcase and a red tunic laid out as if ready to be worn. She recognized it as the one Naomi wore in the photo of the Blackstones most Lifers had in their Quarters. Was this their room?
Then she spotted a Styrofoam head with a wig of long red hair on the bureau. Naomi’s beautiful hair was a wig? Stunned, she stepped closer and noticed a crystal jewelry dish. She was shocked to see Maya’s swirling mood ring resting there. Also the obsidian earrings Rena had given her. What was Maya’s jewelry doing on Naomi’s bureau?
Beside the dish was a framed photo of Nigel with his arms wrapped around a laughing woman. Maya. Much younger, but definitely her. Nigel with Maya? Huh?
Then the truth hit. Maya was Naomi. Both women were tiny. Both had almond-shaped green eyes with dark brows. Naomi was Maya in a red wig. Rena had only seen Naomi from a distance, really—the mezzanine. Supposedly, she was a private person.