Attack Doll 5: The End of Lily Lee

by Douglas A. Taylor

Chapter 24

 

  As it turned out, I didn't have to wake Joy to say goodbye. I didn't hear from Wizzit at all, in fact, until early the following afternoon. Joy had made lunch for us, and I was washing the dishes afterwards when my phone started buzzing. It was a text from Wizzit: "Time to go."

  "Is that from your boss?" Joy asked. "Do you have to leave?"

  "Yup," I said, snapping the phone closed. I looked down at the soapy water in the sink. "I don't think it's urgent, but maybe I'd better . . ."

  My phone started buzzing again. Another text: "Be polite. Finish the dishes."

  I chuckled. "I guess it's not all that urgent." So I finished washing up. Then I packed up my stuff, hugged and kissed my sister goodbye, and left the house.

  Wizzit 'ported me back to my room, naturally enough. After I unpacked, he suggested that I stroll down to the kitchen, where the others were relaxing after dinner. It was just Mike and Trina; they were playing cards, probably rummy, and chatting amiably. The talking ceased, though, the moment I stepped through the door. The two of them turned to look at me.

  "Trevor, you're back!" Trina exclaimed. "Where were you? We were getting worried."

  "You mean Wizzit didn't tell you?"

  Mike shook his head. "He wouldn't say a word, mate, just that he had sent you away from HQ and not to try to contact you. He said you would tell us all about it when you came back."

  "To be honest, it sounded like he might have fired you," Trina added. "He used almost those exact same words when he fired Bill. Except for the part about coming back, that is."

  "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to get everyone all upset." I felt my face turning red with embarrassment. "With everything going on with Lily, I had myself a serious case of cabin fever, so Wizzit sent me to stay with my sister for a few days. My older sister Joy, not Angie, obviously. Just a short, unscheduled vacation to get my mind off of things, that's all."

  "Yeah, well, you need to let Shelley know that," Mike told me. "You had her sick with worry; she seemed to think it was something she had done that made Wizzit send you away."

  Something she had . . . ? Oh, right. Her decision to keep me away from Lily. I looked around. "Are she and Angie over at the lab right now?"

  Mike nodded. "The pair of them have been keeping mighty late hours over there. Sometimes not coming back until lights-out."

  I looked at the clock. "I guess I can hang around here until they get back." Mike handed me the cards, and we started playing some weird, three-handed Australian game that he had been wanting to teach us for a while. But Shelley and Angie still hadn't shown up by the time Wizzit started dimming the light, so the three of us turned in for the night.

  The next morning I woke up feeling pretty good, pretty relaxed. I was still concerned about Lily, naturally, but I found I was now concerned in a serene sort of way, as if I knew that everything would turn out all right. So I whistled and hummed to myself all through my shower. Mike, Trina, and Padma were in the kitchen when I went in for breakfast.

  "'Mornin', Trevor," Mike said casually. "How're you feeling?"

  "Pretty good, actually," I said. I reached into the refrigerator for some eggs and a small slice of ham. Joy's cooking must have spoiled me; I had decided I wanted more to eat than my usual tea and toast. "I can't believe how hungry I am, though. By the way, I forgot to ask you yesterday -- how was your trip?"

  "It was fine," he said. I turned around in time to see him give Trina a significant look. I wasn't sure how to interpret it; were they communicating surreptitiously about me, or just sharing a fond memory about their time together? In my serene state of mind, I decided it didn't matter. Seeing me looking at him, Mike gave me one of his easy grins. "It was pretty nice, in fact."

  I bent down to retrieve a frying pan from one of the lower cupboards. As I straightened, a pair of dark brown hands removed the pan from my grip. "I can cook that for you, Trevor," Padma said. "Go sit down and relax."

  I turned to face her; she was watching me carefully -- nervously, maybe? "Thanks, Padma," I said, "but I wouldn't want you to go to all that trouble."

  "It's no trouble," she said. She hesitated, then gave me one of her thousand-watt smiles. "Really, I don't mind."

  I looked around the room; both Mike and Trina were studiously ignoring us. "Okay, guys," I said, crossing my arms, "what's going on? Padma never offers to make breakfast for me; she doesn't even offer to make breakfast for Nicolai."

  "Nothing's going on, Trevor," Trina replied, her face all innocence.

  "Mike and Trina told me that the reason Wizzit had to send you away for a few days was because you were so upset about Lily," Padma explained. She laid a hand on my arm and looked into my eyes. "Trevor, don't forget that you have friends here. Good friends who care about you and who don't like to see you unhappy. You are not alone. You and I, we can talk about anything, can't we?"

  I couldn't help but smile at the concern on her face. "Yes, we can." I put an arm around her and pulled her in close.

  Mike looked up from where he had been studying his hands. "Look, mate, we just want you to know that we've got your back, all right? You're a Prime, and we Primes stick together."

  "Thanks," I said. "I appreciate the sentiment, but really, guys, I'm okay now. I'm not going to go all psycho or anything. I know I've been upset the past few weeks about Lily, but I'm feeling a lot better, honest. Spending a couple of days away really helped; everything's cool."

  "Are you sure?" Padma asked me earnestly.

  "I'm sure." I looked skeptically at the frying pan that she was still holding. "Have you ever cooked ham and eggs before?" I asked her.

  "Well, no," she said uncertainly.

  I plucked it from her hands. "Then let me take care of it. If you want to do something nice, you can pour me a big glass of orange juice and make a couple of slices of buttered toast."

  She smiled at me, a genuine smile this time. "I'll do that."

  I dropped the slice of ham into the pan and turned on the heat. "I'd like to hear about the trip," I said.

  "We went to visit my parents," Trina explained. "When Mike escorted me to the awards ceremony in Moscow last February, I -- that is, we -- tried to give them the impression that we were more than just casual friends."

  I nodded; that made sense. Trina's parents had no idea she was a Prime. In an effort to persuade them that she was making her living as an artist rather than by, let's say, less reputable means, Trina had entered some of her sketches in a national arts competition in Russia. Much to her surprise, she had taken an honorable-mention award. She had probably thought that if she presented an actual boyfriend at the ceremony as well, it might have helped allay more of her parents' suspicions.

  "That's good thinking." The ham was sizzling now; I flipped it over. "Did they go for it?"

  Mike's grin broadened. "In a big way, mate, thanks to yours truly."

  "They did like him, yes." Trina glanced over at Mike. "That's why we went together this time. They said they wanted to see him again. Part of it, I suppose, was to check up on him --to make sure he was not just someone I had engaged for that night, or possibly my . . . sorry, I forget the English word . . ."

  "Pimp, love," Mike said. "Someone who manages a prostitute."

  Trina made a face. "Yes. My pimp. An ugly word for an ugly profession. It sounds like something you want to squeeze until it pops."

  "Did they really think Mike was a pimp?" I asked incredulously. I heard the toast pop up; Padma moved silently over to butter it.

  "They weren't sure," Trina admitted. "He charmed them, but they were still suspicious."

  "But it went well, I thought," Mike went on confidently. "I had 'em eating out of my hand. Of course, I'm not sure exactly how Trina explained the presence of a New Zealander in . . . well, whatever town it is that you're supposed to be living in, but . . ."


  Trina sighed in exasperation. "You can't remember it?"

  "I can't pronounce it, love."

  I smiled as I removed the ham from the pan and laid it across one of the slices of buttered toast. I dropped a hunk of butter into the pan and then cracked my two eggs in as well. I hated to take sides, but in this, I was with Mike. When she had first joined the Primes, Trina had developed her cover story with an eye towards inaccessibility; she had not wanted her parents to be able to visit her unannounced. Unfortunately for us non-Russian speakers, she had chosen a home city in a district that was apparently too poor to afford vowels or even some of the pricier consonants. I have been known to spell it correctly on occasion, but I have never been able to pronounce it to anyone's satisfaction.

  "Well, at any rate, I told them you're an American art historian visiting there to study iconography in the local Orthodox churches," she said.

  "Me? An American?" Mike sounded truly shocked. "With this accent?"

  Trina laughed and ruffled Mike's hair lightly. "You have heard them speak English, dear. They could not distinguish your accent from Trevor's or Toby's."

  "You do have a point." Mike shrugged at me. "I did a lot of smiling and nodding."

  "And drinking," Trina added.

  Mike suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, I've already apologized for that, haven't I? I've never been a big vodka drinker, and I had no idea --"

  "Don't worry," Trina interrupted him fondly. "It worked out for the best. My father was impressed that he could not drink you under the table. And my mother told me privately that, even drunk, you showed far too much respect for me to be a pimp. She says you would make a good son-in-law, in fact."

  Mike choked on his orange juice. "Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, love."

  I shared a smile with Padma as I slid the eggs out of the pan and folded them onto the ham slice. She was obviously trying not to laugh. "I'll wash these," she said, taking the spatula and frying pan from me. "I have already finished. You go eat."

  I nodded my thanks as I carried my ham-and-egg sandwich and glass of OJ over to the table. "Not to change the subject," I said, "but there's something that I'm confused about. Before I left, I asked Wizzit what would happen if the monster alarm started ringing. He said he'd haul me back in if that happened, but I was still gone for three days. Did I miss a monster attack?"

  Mike shook his head. "No, and that's got us a little worried. We haven't had an attack since we fought those ifrits. We're not sure what's going on; even Wizzit is baffled."

  "Our best guess," Trina added, "is that they are upset about our stealing Lily and their Unity device from them. Shelley thinks they might be taking this time to build up to something big."

  "That's what Bill thinks, too," Padma said from where she stood over by the sink. "He has been working crazy hours trying to complete our own Unity belt before they attack us with this 'something big'. He even got Wizzit to exempt Nicolai from lights-out for the duration." She turned and gave us all a wry smile. "Wizzit wouldn't let me stay up late, though. He said I was still a growing girl who needed her rest, which is why I'm having breakfast with you now. As soon as I am done here, I need to go back to the weapons room."

  "What about Toby?" I asked.

  Mike shrugged. "I haven't seen much of him either, mate."

  "He has been working on something with Bill," Padma said, "but I don't know what it is. It is certainly not the Unity belt. I know he didn't leave last night when I did."

  The conversation pretty much died after that; I wanted to concentrate on wolfing down my sandwich, and no one else had anything further to add. Padma finished her washing-up and, with her hand trailing affectionately across my shoulders as she walked by, left the room. I watched her go, admiring the swing of her hips. She really was a pretty girl, and as much as I hated to have people think I was cracking up, I sure didn't mind the extra attention she had been giving me as a result.

  And speaking of extra attention: I had just finished my sandwich and was about to gulp down my last swallow of orange juice when I felt a different pair of female arms wrap themselves around me. "Trevor!" Shelley exclaimed, giving me a squeeze. "I'm glad to see you're back."

  I turned in my chair to look at her. In many ways, Shelley was just like her father, the original Prime Commander. They had both had that lean, rangy build and that quiet charisma that made you want to follow them to the ends of the earth. Shelley was more touchy-feely, though, than her old man had ever been. He had always been more of a "give you a firm handshake and look you straight in the eye" kind of guy. He would occasionally squeeze your shoulder. Not much of a hugger, though.

  Shelley, by contrast, has not been shy about throwing her arms around people as Prime Commander. She has allowed herself to loosen up just a tad these days, both mentally and physically. Not that she's fat or out of shape by any means, but she is not the keen knife-edge that she had been as Prime Red. Just a bit softer and rounder, especially in the areas where someone like me (or Bill, I suppose) would want her to be softer and rounder. She was wearing her hair longer these days, too. Definitely more feminine all over, and the upside of all that for me was that she gave really great hugs.

  "Hi, Shelley," I said. "You, uh, did hear that I wasn't canned, right? That I was just visiting my older sister for a couple of days?"

  "I heard something about that," she replied. She jerked her head toward the door. "Let's go into the office, and you can tell me about it."

  "Sure thing." I swallowed the last of my juice. "Let me clean up my dishes first, and I'll be right in."

  Shelley was on her feet, leaning back against her desk, when I entered the office and closed the door behind me. She was staring at the floor looking somber, but her face brightened up as I walked in. "Sit down, Trev, and tell me about your vacation. How is your sister? Her name is Joy, right?"

  "That's right." And I told her a bit about Joy and Mark and the baby and briefly outlined my visit.

  She nodded thoughtfully when I was done. "I'll confess that I'm a bit puzzled by a couple of things," she said. "First, that you had to leave so suddenly, and second, why he sent you there, of all places. It wasn't a family emergency, was it?"

  "Nothing like that, no," I replied. "I didn't realize it was such a big mystery. You knew how worried I was about Lily. Wizzit just decided I needed some time off to clear my head."

  "Yes, I knew you were concerned, but I had no idea . . ." She looked troubled for a moment, then shook her head. "But why send you to Joy's house? She doesn't know you're a Prime, does she?"

  "She suspects I'm up to something out of the ordinary," I said carefully, "but I've already explained to her that I can't say anything about it. She said she wouldn't force the issue."

  "The young woman displays a remarkable attitude that is rarely seen in humans," Wizzit interjected. "Curious, but not nosey." He went on, "Another reason to send Trevor there was the fledgling. My observations indicate one can often ameliorate excessive concern over a particular condition by associating oneself with the natural outcome of that condition."

  "Say . . . what?" I wrinkled my forehead. "Shelley, do you have any clue what he just said?"

  Shelley's own brow was furrowed in thought. Then her face cleared. "I think so," she said, and damned if it didn't look as if she were suddenly trying not to grin. "If I'm reading him correctly, when Wizzit saw you fretting over Lily, he interpreted that as 'excessive concern' over . . . let's call it a male-female relationship."

  "A male-female relationship?" I thought about it for a moment. "All right, but it's not exactly . . . I mean, sure, I'm a male and Lily's a female, and there's . . . okay, I guess you could look at it that way, in a general sort of sense, but that doesn't mean that . . ."

  "And one natural outcome of male-female relationships is . . ." Shelley looked at me expectantly.

/>   "Babies." I sighed in disgust. "Are you telling me that playing with my baby nephew was supposed to make me stop worrying about Lily so much? That's . . . that's ridiculous!"

  Okay, she was definitely suppressing a grin now. "Did it work?"

  I opened my mouth to deliver a strongly-worded denial, but then I stopped. Had it worked? After a moment, I said, "Well, I can't deny that I do feel better about the whole thing. But that doesn't mean --"

  "I know," she agreed soothingly. "Wizzit's point hasn't been proven. It just hasn't been disproven."

  "Yes, exactly!" Our eyes met, and suddenly I was struck by the absurdity of the whole argument we were having. Shelley must have been feeling the same, because we both burst out laughing at the same time.

  "So, Shelley," I said after a bit, trying to sound casual, "speaking of Lily, weren't there some vids you were going to go over with me?"

  She turned to face me, and I felt a hint of trepidation. Her smile had abruptly vanished and the somber look was back. "We need to talk about that," she said seriously. She hesitated, then went on, "Have you ever known me to break a promise?"

  I thought for a moment. "No. Never."

  "I didn't think so," she said. "Keeping my word has always been very important to me. If people can't trust you to follow through on what you say, then they can't trust you, period. Which is why it's going to be hard for me to tell you this." She sighed deeply. "Trevor, I'm going to have to break that promise I made to you. I can't show you those vids."

  I must have stared at her for fully ten seconds before I could think of anything to say. "Okay . . ."

  "There's nothing in there that you shouldn't see," she assured me quickly. "There's nothing . . . nothing secret. A lot of it is like what you and I went through with her that first day, but much less intense. Just a lot of talking, in various languages. Of course, I couldn't follow anything Angie was saying, but I'm sure you could." She attempted to bring back her smile, with mixed results. "In fact, if we were to watch the whole thing, you would probably be bored stiff."

  "Then why can't I see any of it?"

  Shelley gave up trying to smile. "Because Lily asked me -- no, she begged me -- not to let you. For some reason, she has decided that she doesn't want to have anything to do with you any more. She doesn't want to see you, she doesn't want to talk to you, and she doesn't want you to be able to see or hear her, not even on a vid. She was very upset and very adamant about it, and . . . I had to promise her you wouldn't, just so that she would keep on talking to us." She reached out and laid a hand on my arm. "I didn't intend for this to happen. I'm sorry."

  I was on my feet even before I realized that I was going to leave the room. "I guess that's it, then," I said. "Thanks for letting me know. And don't worry, I won't hold you to your promise to me; your perfect record is still perfect."

  "Trev, wait," she said, her hand tightening on my arm. "Don't leave just yet."

  "Why not? What else is there to say?" I was proud of the fact that I hardly sounded bitter at all. So much for my mellow state of mind. "Look, if she doesn't want me to have any contact with her, then I'm sure not going to force the issue. We both know that wouldn't turn out very well, don't we? And if I can't help you with her, then why should I even see the vids?"

  Shelley looked as concerned as I had ever seen her. "I'm sorry it's worked out this way, Trevor. I really am," she said softly. "I wish so much that you could see her now. You wouldn't believe the change over just the past few days. You remember how she was that first time, right? Just a scared little girl who cringed at every shadow? The false queen who was terrified that we were going to kill her?

  "Now, she has blossomed into a . . . well, I wouldn't exactly call her a confident young woman, but she is one hell of a lot more sure of herself than she was. And she and Li Lin-fa -- Trevor, they're talking to each other. Actually talking! Or maybe talking isn't the right word, but there's definitely communication going on between the two personalities. It has been just amazing to see!"

  She had waxed more enthusiastic as she spoke, and it was infectious; I found myself smiling. Faintly, but smiling. "That sounds really cool. I wish I could see it."

  "My point, Trevor," she went on, "is that none of that would have been possible without you. You were there fighting for her every step of the way. Now, I don't know what caused this sudden change of heart, but she owes you a huge debt, whether she realizes it or not."

  I shook my head. "She doesn't owe me anything. What I did, I did because I liked her and I thought she deserved better than what she had. I wasn't thinking of it as an investment, and I certainly never counted on any returns. I'm glad you and Angie have been able to help her. Let's just leave it at that."

  "Li Lin-fa is willing to see you," Shelley said quietly as I turned to go. "At least, that's what Angie told me."

  Up to now, I thought I had been keeping my cool pretty well, but for some reason, that touched a nerve when nothing else had. "She's 'willing' to see me?" I repeated angrily. "What, like Lily just dumped me and Li Lin-fa is 'willing' to talk to me about it? Come on, Shelley, that's just insulting. This isn't junior high school, and I don't have a seventh-grade crush on Lily. I don't need anyone to throw me a bone. I'm a big boy, and I can handle my own feelings; I don't need someone else to step in to try to make me feel better and explain to me just why --"

  "Trevor, stop!" Shelley's voice cracked out. "Just stop. Dial back the anger and listen to me for a second, all right?"

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. I don't believe I had ever goaded Shelley into snapping at me before. "All right," I said, my voice icy calm. "Anger is dialed back, and I'm listening."

  "I phrased that badly," she told me, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I should have said that Li Lin-fa wants to talk with you. She wants you to come visit her. That's what she told Angie, that she wants to see you again."

  "Oh," I said, suddenly feeling stupid and a bit ashamed of myself. I swallowed. "Um, did she say why?"

  "How should I know?" Shelley said in exasperation. "Maybe she just misses you. You're not that bad-looking, after all, and you can even be pleasant when you put your mind to it, and from all the rumors I've heard, she might actually even be fond of you. Or maybe she just wants your recipe for chicken and broccoli with rice. I don't know. Why don't you go find out?"

  That's our Shelley, Mistress of Pointing Out the Obvious, and as usual, she made me smile. On a sudden impulse, I straightened and bowed respectfully to her, the way I might bow to Grandmaster Park. "Thanks," I said. "That's a good idea. I think I will."