by Ally Carter
Kat took a paring knife and slit the envelope open in one smooth gesture, then pulled out a card and looked down at the words You are cordially invited to witness the beginning.
There was the address of Hale Industries and a date and time for the following afternoon. But the thing that made her heart beat faster was the handwritten line at the bottom of the card.
Please come. Use the back door.
“What is it?” her cousin asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kat said, turning the card over and over in her hands. “Some kind of invitation.”
But to what, she didn’t have a clue.
At half past noon the next day, Kat found herself in the narrow alley behind Hale Industries’ world headquarters, staring at a locked door. It seemed utterly wrong to stand at the service entrance with an invitation and not a tool belt, and part of Kat wanted to flee the scene. Run. Disappear into the midtown traffic. But before she could move, a shadow appeared on the wall just over her shoulder, and a vaguely familiar voice said, “Well, hello there.”
Kat looked at the man coming up the alley behind her. Immediately, she recognized the white hair and bulging belly. But there was something different about the man whom she’d met at the funeral. This time, he wasn’t in mourning. This time, he was…nervous.
“Hi, Mr. Foster,” Kat said.
Silas nodded, impressed. “That’s a good memory you have there.”
“Thank you,” Kat said. “I try.”
“Allow me.” Silas swiped his ID badge across an electronic pad beside the door, and Kat gave a soft sigh.
“The McClintock Three-sixty,” she whispered when the light flashed from red to green.
“What was that?” he asked.
“That lock is really nifty,” Kat hurried to add, then smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet. She must have looked far more innocent than she felt, because the old man opened the door wide and gestured for her to go ahead.
“Come on in,” he told her. “I’ll show you the way.”
Kat had never been inside the Hale Industries headquarters before, but she didn’t pause to consider the irony. She was there. Hale had invited her. And the fact that he’d sent her through the back door might not have meant anything at all.
“Come along, Miss Bishop. I believe the party is upstairs.”
Mr. Foster pushed the elevator call button, and a moment later, Kat was inside, achingly aware of the silence that filled the shiny car.
“I’m so glad to see you here,” Silas told her. “It’s a big day for us.”
“What is today, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Well, before Hazel died, she and I were working on a new project. Today we unveil it for the board of directors. The real party is next week—a gala, I believe they’re calling it. You should come to that, too. It’s going to be quite the big to-do.”
“Sounds exciting,” Kat said, and laughed a little at the old-fashioned phrase.
“It is,” Silas said. “I’m only sad Hazel won’t be here to see it.”
The elevator made a ding and came to a stop.
“Allow me.” Silas held open the doors and gestured for Kat to step out into a corridor lined with paintings. There was something eerily familiar about them all, and Kat was just starting to wonder what it was when Silas said, “Miss Bishop, allow me to introduce the Hale men.”
He gestured to an old oil painting of a man in uniform. “That’s Mr. Hale the First. He was something of a character, I’m told. A big brute of a man. Powerful.” Silas puffed up his chest as if to prove the point. “He served in the military with one of the British princes. Saved his life, even, if the stories are true. And was rewarded handsomely for it.”
The next painting showed a man on a factory line, surrounded by crates and machinery.
“Mr. Hale the Second,” Silas said. “He was the first to come to this country, I believe. A bright man, by all accounts. Greedy. But bright.”
They took a few more steps, and Kat came even with two matching portraits.
“W. W. the Third is on your left,” Silas said. “And that’s his little brother Reginald on the right.”
“W. W. the Third was Hazel’s husband?” Kat asked.
“He was. He commissioned this building in 1969.” Silas smiled a little with the memory, then lowered his voice. “But make no mistake about it, my dear, this is the house that Hazel built.”
Silas eased down the long hall, to the last portrait hanging in the row. It was the same image that had run in the paper, and Kat looked at the original, wishing she’d known the woman behind it.
“As much as the Hales understand money, Hazel understood people,” Silas said. “None of these old boys would say so, but this place changed when she came on board.” He leaned close to Kat and whispered, “For the better.”
Kat couldn’t pry her gaze away from the portrait. She wished more than anything that she could ask that woman for advice.
“Are you okay, my dear?” Silas Foster asked. Something in the way he looked at her made Kat forget herself for a moment. He seemed so wise and sage and trustworthy, and Kat wanted to tell him everything—about Hazel and Marianne, the will and the trustee’s trip to London.
And Hale.
Kat wanted to tell Silas that her boyfriend wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, and beg him to go down to his lab and create a device that would make everything okay.
“Kat?” he asked again. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m just a little…” Kat began, but she didn’t know how to continue. So instead she asked the question that had been on her mind for hours. “Mr. Foster, what is Genesis?”
Silas gave a knowing smile. “I guess we’re getting ready to find out.”
Then she watched the man push open a set of double doors, unsure what she was going to find on the other side, totally not expecting what she saw.
Hale. What Kat saw was Hale.
And he was angry.
Kat knew it the second his gaze met hers. His eyes narrowed and his face flushed. He seemed so much older than sixteen, as though the paintings in the hall had come to life and there he stood—a future tycoon being groomed for greatness. But instead of his father’s blank, professional stare, Hale’s face was full of rage; and as he headed her way, Kat had every reason to be shaking.
“What are you doing here?”
He was the person she knew best, trusted most, and in spite of all that, she recoiled from his touch. “You invited me,” she said.
“No. I didn’t.”
“But…” Kat began, then let the words trail off.
“Look, Kat. It’s not personal. It’s just that this isn’t really a public thing.”
“I didn’t realize I was the public.”
“You need to leave, Kat. You just…” And then the most naturally gifted inside man that Kat had ever seen was stumbling for words. “I just… Who invited you?”
“I did.” Kat felt Silas’s hand at her back. “Genesis isn’t for my generation—it’s for yours. Thought it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of young eyes on it.”
“Oh.” Hale forced a smile at Silas and then shifted his gaze to Kat. “I see.”
Kat wanted to feel her blood boiling, to find the strength to yell, but everything was going cold instead.
“Now, you two have fun.” Silas gave them a wink and crossed the room.
Marcus was there, floating through the crowd with a tray of champagne. She recognized several people from the funeral—members of the board, Kat assumed. Hale’s mother stood alone in the corner. And something about it all made Kat feel small, inconsequential. Even with Hale beside her, she had never felt more alone in her life.
“Hale, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Son?” Senior was walking toward them, looking right through Kat as if she didn’t exist at all.
“I’ve got to go, Kat,” Hale said, but all Kat heard was her cousin’s voice whispering the words secret gir
lfriend.…
And then a different set of words flashed through her mind: I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.…
“Hale”—she pulled him close—“we need to talk.”
But Hale just brushed her aside. “I’m through talking.”
Kat didn’t want to make a scene—it went against her upbringing, her DNA. So she let him leave. And even though he never looked back, Kat could feel somebody watching, staring.
She turned, taking in the room, and there he was, on the other side of the lab. At least a dozen people stood between them, and yet Kat knew that Garrett was looking right at her. Not blinking. Not smiling.
A good job was nothing more than a play, Kat believed. And right then she couldn’t forget that she was backstage at someone else’s con. Kat wanted to shout and point at Garrett, tell everyone what he’d done. She felt the words bubbling up inside her, but before they could break free, Silas moved to the center of the room.
“If I can have your attention, please,” he called to the men and women assembled. He looked and sounded almost like a preacher when he said, “Thank you for joining us today. As everyone in this room knows, we’re here because Hazel wanted a new beginning for Hale Industries. A fresh start. A Genesis, if you will.”
Silas walked to a wall safe in the corner of the room. It was an excellent model, and Kat was impressed. She had no idea what kind of scientist the man was, but at least he had good taste in safes.
“Hazel came to this very room several years ago, and together we talked about the future. Of Hale Industries. Of the Hale family. And—not to put too fine a point on it—the world. Hazel knew she wasn’t going to live forever—none of us will. But she wanted to build something that would last for generations—something that would alter everything we touch. Something every man and woman could carry in the palm of their hand and be better for it.”
When Silas reached into the safe, it was as though the whole room was holding its breath. He held his hands out, like an offering, and then gazed down at the tiny device that lay there.
It was smaller than a deck of cards, gleaming and shining under the bright lights of the lab. When Silas held it up for the audience to see, Kat wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at. But then again, she realized, that was kind of the idea. This was new, fresh. Big. And it was Hale’s.
“Genesis, simply put, is power.” Silas pointed to the sleek panels that formed the device’s shell. “These pull energy from the sun.” He slid open a tiny door to reveal the delicate workings inside. “This technology harnesses kinetic energy so that every time the device moves, shakes, tilts—that energy is converted as well.”
Silas closed the device and held it aloft again. “All of this technology has existed for years. We just combined it and shrunk it, and now…hopefully…it is in a package that can change the world.”
Silas took a cord from the table and attached one end to the Genesis prototype. Then he picked up a cell phone and removed its battery. “Whatever you need charged—whenever it needs charging—all you have to do is plug Genesis in.” He attached the powerless cell phone to the prototype, and instantly the phone sprang to life.
Kat felt the room change. No one moved or spoke for a long time. There was nothing but a long beep and a solemn hush to mark the occasion before, finally, one of the board members dared to speak.
“Foster?” The man cleared his throat. “Are you saying… What you mean to tell us is that Genesis works?”
“Yes.” Silas gave an I told you so smirk. “It does. Of course, this is just a prototype—just one model. But given time, I think Hale Industries could use this technology in a way that touches almost everything. Cell phones. Laptops. I suspect even cars could eventually be completely self-sustaining.”
Kat looked down at the small device one more time. It felt like all of Hale Industries could fit in the palm of her hand. People crowded around Silas, wanting to see the prototype up close, ask him questions. She could feel the whole tide rising, and she knew that the board was pleased. Hale Industries would be fine. They didn’t need Hale, didn’t need him at all, so she reached for his hand and pulled him from the crowd.
“Hale, can I talk to you?”
“It’s incredible.” He looked at her. “Isn’t it incredible?”
“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m—”
“Hazel should have seen this.”
“Hale…” Kat said again, but Hale was walking away.
She tried to follow him, but a most unusual roadblock stood in her way.
“Well, hello again,” Hale’s mother said. She’d traded her black dress for purple, and her short hair was perfectly coifed. Her shoes probably cost a thousand dollars, but even they paled in comparison to the broach she wore at the base of her neck.
“Do you like it?” Her long graceful fingers brushed the diamond-and-ruby pendant that Kat had last seen in Hazel’s portrait. “It was my mother-in-law’s. It has been given to all the wives of the W. W. Hales for generations.” Her gaze slid toward Hale. “Someday it will belong to the wife of my son.”
“That’s nice,” Kat muttered, desperate for something to say.
“I’m so glad you could come today,” the woman said.
“You are?” Kat blurted a little too quickly.
“Of course.” And then the strangest thing happened. She put her arm around Kat’s waist, steered her carefully to a quiet corner of the room. “We were so afraid when Scooter took a leave of absence from school that it would be hard on him. But, honestly, this is bringing us so much closer to our son. And the people in his life.”
She gave Kat’s waist a tiny squeeze.
“You’ll have to come up to the country house, dear. We don’t want Scooter losing touch with his friends. Or…anyone who might be more than just a friend.” She gave a smile, and Kat wondered what kind of alternate reality she had fallen into.
Marcus passed by, and Kat mouthed “help,” but he just offered Hale’s mother some champagne and continued through the room, wordless.
“And how do you enjoy Knightsbury, Katarina…or is it Kat? Which do you prefer?”
For all that she had done in her short life, Kat was not used to playing inside. She didn’t know how to smile and flirt, cajole and confuse someone into believing something was their idea (especially when it wasn’t). No, Kat was a thief, not a con artist, more her mother’s child than her father’s in at least that one respect. So it was with a pounding heart and sweaty palms that she told the woman, “Most people call me Kat.”
“It is a lovely name.” When Hale’s mother smiled, Kat felt a pang of familiarity. Hale was built like his father, with the same broad shoulders and tall frame. But right then Kat knew that Hale was actually like his mother. They had the same easy smile and bright eyes. Charm. They were both charmers. And Kat found herself liking the woman just as, years before, she hadn’t been able to help liking the boy. It felt a little like she was cheating on Hale. With his mother.
“Isn’t that something?”
Kat glanced at Genesis and nodded. “Yes. It really is.”
“It’s going to be quite impressive when we unveil it at the gala next week. You are coming to the gala, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I…” Kat looked at Hale, but his mother talked on.
“You simply must. It’s such an important night for Scooter. He and his grandmother were very close. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” Kat said. She didn’t admit that she’d learned it a little too late.
Hale’s mother smiled. “The company means a lot to my son, and if I’m correct, you mean a lot to my son. I’m the first to admit that he and his father and I have been slightly…estranged. He was a challenging boy. But now he’s a man, and I want to know him. And I believe it’s also important to know you.”
“It is?” Kat asked.
Mrs. Hale laughed. “There will be lots of girls who are interested in him now. There were many before, I’m sure, but now…well, let�
�s just say this kind of inheritance changes things.”
“Not for me,” Kat said, and she meant it.
“And that’s why I hope that we will be very close, Kat.” Hale’s mother smiled.
Kat’s head was buzzing. No. That wasn’t it. The buzzing was reverberating from the center of the crowd.
“The device shouldn’t be making that noise,” Silas said from across the room.
Kat was more than a little surprised at the speed and agility the old man showed as he raced toward the prototype. There was a loud pop just as he reached it, a burning, hissing spark that sputtered and flamed in a bright arc. Smoke filled the air.
“Foster, what is the meaning of this?” Hale’s father snapped as if Silas were deliberately wasting his time.
“I’m not sure,” Silas said. “I’ve personally tested this a dozen times in the past two weeks, and…I’m not sure.”
Kat looked around the lab at what, if Mr. Foster was correct, was one of the biggest days in the history of Hale Industries. Of the Hale family.
But she couldn’t see her Hale anywhere.
Marcus was coming toward her, a tray of shrimp puffs in his hand. But the look in his eyes was enough to stop Kat cold.
“Where is he, Marcus?”
“He’s gone to his office.”
“Where is it? Please tell me. I have to talk to him.”
“No, miss.” Marcus took her hand and squeezed. “You have to stop him.”
Kat wasn’t sure what was going on then, but she’d spent too much of her life as the girl with the plan to sit on the sidelines of whatever was happening. She pushed through the halls of Hale Industries, the cubicles and conference rooms spiraling out like a maze, and she didn’t know where to go. So she stopped, heart pounding. And listened.
“Gloria, red looks good on you,” someone said.
And there he was. Hale was strolling easily down the center aisle, slapping a man on the back and asking, “Hey, Jones, how’s the baby?”
“Hale,” Kat said, struggling to catch up. “I need to talk to you.”
“Go home, Kat,” he told her, never breaking stride until he finally came to rest in front of the woman who sat stoically guarding the corner office.