Humphrey returned to the senator and tried to brush past. She caught his elbow and slipped an arm into his. “Oh, this is a wonderful house,” she said as she tottered down the hallway. “I’m going to enjoy spending much time here with you
“Time did you say? You’ll be spending time here?”
A cackle burst from the woman’s throat. “As you continue to point out, I’m going to be a fourteen-year-old after all of this. I can hardly return to my duties as a senator.”
“Oh, yes,” Humphrey said. “About that . . . What is your cover story?”
“Same thing as all the others’. I’ll be the long-lost daughter I gave up for adoption.”
Humphrey did the math in his head. The senator could be no younger than sixty-four, which would mean that Summer, at fourteen, would have to have been born when the senator was fifty years old. He had no idea if that was possible or not.
He didn’t pursue it. He remembered something Jacey had told him. To keep a conversation going without having to contribute anything, ask about the other person’s interests. “I don’t recall if you were in politics yet when you were fifty.”
She patted his arm playfully. “Christof! You flatterer. Of course you know that to have a fourteen-year-old, she would have to have been born when I was seventy—and in my second term as senator.”
Seventy?
That meant the senator was eighty-four. He glanced at her appreciatively. His only reference point for judging ages was photographs he had seen in the various history lessons Socrates had provided. That, and Dr. Carlhagen himself, who had been in his nineties before transferring into Vaughan. For all her hideous frailty and shocking red hair, it seemed the senator had aged quite well.
They came to the wine cellar door. He disentangled his arm from the senator’s and placed the key in the lock. Suddenly, the senator’s arms wrapped around him and she hugged him close, hands exploring his chest. He let out a cough and wriggled free, turning to face her.
“Excuse me, Maxine. The door swings open into the hall.” They shuffled backward. He opened the door and hurried down to the steps, flicking the light switch as he passed it. His youth got him to the bottom well before the senator had gotten halfway. He didn’t wait for her before jogging down the aisles of wine racks.
He called over his shoulder, “The vintage I’m looking for is over here.” He moved left and hugged the stone wall, which was moist with condensation. The low ceiling made every step and breath reverberate. The crisscrossed wine racks were densely packed with bottles, so that each was effectively a wall.
“Ooh. It’s cold down here,” said the senator.
Humphrey turned with a start. The senator wasn’t there, but the strange acoustics had made it sound like she was speaking in his ear.
“Where are you?” The senator’s voice echoed in the great chamber.
“Over here,” he said, searching quickly for the bottle Mr. Justin had told him to fetch. He counted down three shelves. He pulled out a bottle. “This must be it.”
“There you are!” The senator oozed close to him, then something in her demeanor changed. She moved past him. “Where does that lead?”
“Where does what lead?” He spun the bottle to read the label. The last thing he needed was Mr. Justin scolding him for bringing the wrong wine.
“That door.”
He glanced up from the bottle and moved to look over the senator’s shoulder. And there it was, a steel door set in the stone wall. To one side of it, mounted chest high, was a numeric keypad.
Not having the first clue where the door led, he improvised. “Ah, it’s just a supply closet.
“Strange for a supply closet to be locked with a security system. Or is Mr. Justin always stealing your towels?” She giggled like a mere Dolphin.
Humphrey didn’t answer and turned back up the aisle. Remembering to put on his Dr. Carlhagen joviality, he said with a laugh, “I’ve been saving this bottle for a special occasion. A Keno Boir. Full of oak and peat moss, with a hint of seaweed.” He barely listened to his own words. The door puzzled him, and he wondered what Dr. Carlhagen might have locked up in there.
“Sounds delightful,” the senator said, again sneaking and arm around his waist. She cast a glance at the stone floor. “Pity the floor is so damp and hard. It would be cozy down here otherwise.”
“Ah yes, you’re right. We should return to the dining room immediately.” Humphrey nearly dragged the senator after him, as she refused to let go of him. He propelled them both toward the stairs, fuming at her intrusion and her unwelcome advances. The woman could not get the hint.
He got to the bottom of the steps, and then, in a burst of inspiration, swept his arm around the senator and gave her a slight hug. “It is good to see you, Maxine, but I forgot a dessert wine I thought we should try. Why don’t you run along? I’ll be right up.”
Her eyes glistened at his warm gesture. A stab of guilt passed through Humphrey’s chest. As much as he hated the woman, he didn’t like lying to her.
“That’s a good idea,” she said. “I need to use the little girls’ room anyway.”
She started up the steps, supporting herself with a hand against the one wall and the other grasping the railing.
He spun and darted down the rows of shelving, back to the door. He studied the keypad and wracked his brain for what code Dr. Carlhagen might have used to secure it. His mind turned to the puzzle of why Dr. Carlhagen had employed such a low-tech system when the AI could have watched over the door.
The only thing he could think of was that Dr. Carlhagen didn’t trust Chax to guard this room, which seemed odd since he guarded everything else about the campus. Humphrey’s hand went to the keypad and he was about to enter a random string of numbers when he snatched it back. Entering the wrong code might produce an alarm somewhere.
The last thing he needed was Mr. Justin running down and wondering why he was trying to get into the room.
But how to get in?
He tapped his lips with a finger and studied the door. The hinges were attached to the stone wall with fat bolts. Even if he had a wrench, it would take hours to wrest it free and the door itself would be too heavy to move out of the way without help. Unless he had some explosives, or some huge excavating machine, he wasn’t going to be able to break the door free of the wall.
He thought about the floor plan of the hacienda and what lay directly above the door. As far as he could tell, whatever lay beyond was carved out of the bedrock of the island. There would be no way to dig his way in. The only way was to figure out the code.
He swore in frustration and tapped his toe in irritation. Agitation built, and he unconsciously crossed his arms and hugged his shoulders, as if to contain it.
A lump in his jacket drew his attention. His reader. In a burst of inspiration, he pulled it free from his inside pocket and glanced up at the wine racks behind him. There, along the right wall, was a shadowy area. He placed his reader in this dark patch, leaning it atop the rack and against the wall, its camera aimed directly at the door and the keypad.
“Vaughan?” he asked. His friend’s face appeared on the screen. “Do you have a good view of the keypad?”
“I do,” Vaughan said, “although the optics in this camera aren’t good. I can’t zoom in very close.”
“It’s the best I can do right now. Keep watch in case Mr. Justin accesses the room. I’ll try to find the key code among Dr. Carlhagen’s things, but my guess is that it was something he memorized.”
Vaughan didn’t seem very interested. “Why do you need to get in there?”
“I don’t know that I do. It’s just . . . it’s a locked door, so I presume that Dr. Carlhagen had something of value in there. Maybe something that can help us.”
“Very well. I’ll task an instance of myself to keep an eye out.”
“I’ve got to go.” Humphrey hustled down the aisle, pulled a second bottle from a rack at random, ascended the stairs, flipped the switch off,
closed the door, locked it, and returned to the dining room.
Humphrey slowed his steps as he approached the entry to the dining hall. He took several deep breaths and pasted the old Dr. Carlhagen smile on his lips. He lifted the wine bottles as he stepped through. “And here we are,” he said, adding a guttural laugh.
“I was starting to get worried, Christof,” Senator Bentilius said. “I was just about to send Mr. Justin down to fetch you. Isn’t that right, Mr. Justin?”
“As you say, madam.” Mr. Justin swept forward and took the bottles from Humphrey, flashing him a questioning look.
Humphrey gave a little shrug, and whispered, “She was getting very handsy. I needed to get away from her for a few minutes.”
“Of course, sir,” Mr. Justin said, adding a curt bow. He glanced at the label on the second bottle of wine. “An excellent choice, sir.”
Humphrey made a show of eagerly sweeping around the table to take his position, even though inside he felt like he was walking to the gallows. The senator scooched her chair closer to his and placed a hot hand on top of his.
“Like old times, isn’t it?” she said
“Yes, just like. So how long do you think you plan to stay on the beautiful island of St. Vitus?”
“I don’t know,” she said, waving a lazy hand. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on holiday. I think I’ll just enjoy my new youth, the sunshine . . . your warm company.”
Improvising, Humphrey smiled and placed his hand on top of hers. “But surely, Maxine, you can’t stay away from the political intrigues. The Scion School is beautiful, I’ll grant you that, but it’s not where the action is.”
The senator arched an eyebrow and leaned even closer. “There’s action, my dear, and then there’s action. Besides, proximity will be useful as we work out the final details of the new school. I hate coordinating over holovid. It seems half my life has been spent talking to little translucent people. I’m far more interested in flesh and blood.” She smiled evilly, and Humphrey struggled not to snatch his hands away.
Mr. Justin brought in the main course. Humphrey wanted to hug the man for interrupting the very uncomfortable intimacy that was starting to suffocate him.
“And how about things on your front, Christof?” Senator Bentilius asked. “Has being in this new, strong body distracted you from your part of the work?”
“Distracted?” Humphrey said, trying to sound offended. “I may enjoy the pleasures of life, but ninety-some years have taught me that I only enjoy a thing to the extent that I have endured its opposite. Hard work begets delightful pleasure.” He lifted his fork and jabbed a hunk of the mango from his plate and popped it in his mouth. Then, pulling his other hand away from the senator, he lifted his wine glass and took a tiny sip. “Just as the bitter wine makes the sweet sweeter.”
The senator’s face flushed and her eyes glistened. “And a cold shower makes for a warm bed.”
Humphrey nearly choked on the mango and had to wash it down with another slug of wine. “Indeed, Madam.”
As if his coughing was a cue, Mr. Justin entered again. “Dr. Carlhagen, I hate to interrupt your dinner, but you have an important call waiting in the office. I really do believe you should take it.”
“Of course, of course,” Humphrey said, eagerly pushing away from the table and standing. “Excuse me, Maxine. I’ll be back directly.”
He followed Mr. Justin out of the room and into Dr. Carlhagen’s office. The butler closed the door and turned to face Humphrey. Gone was the usual smile and crinkling eyes. Instead, he bit his lip and began to pace.
As Humphrey expected, there was no call at the holodesk. Mr. Justin had called him away in order to get him out of earshot of the senator.
“I think I should have been better prepared for this dinner, Mr. Justin,” Humphrey said, coolly.
“Trust me, Humphrey, the senator’s revelations this evening came as a shock to me as well. I had no idea of Dr. Carlhagen and Senator Bentilius’s past romantic relationship. And I certainly had no idea about this other Scion School.”
“I thought you were Dr. Carlhagen’s right-hand man. Why would he conceal the other school from you?”
The butler pursed his lips and then shrugged. “I have no idea. Perhaps he grew mistrustful of me because I knew as much as I did. After all, as you know, he wasn’t himself in the final weeks of his life. He was so addicted to the andelprixin.”
“That’s a sedative, right?” Humphrey said, an idea coming to him. “Do you think you could slip a tablet or two into her wine?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Mr. Justin said. “Except for that giant bodyguard of hers might come up to speak with the senator, and it wouldn’t do to find her drugged unconscious.”
“Very well. I think I’m going to go insist that she gets to bed. You know, get rest and everything for the transfer tomorrow. What we’re going to do to prevent it, I have no idea.”
“It’s certainly not going to happen first thing. It seems Summer and Jacey are missing. I got a worried message from Wanda that neither has returned to Girls’ Hall this evening.
“Does Alice know?”
Mr. Justin gave Humphrey a what-do-you-think look. If Alice had found out, she would have already stormed into the dining room and trashed the place.
“I can’t say it surprises me,” Humphrey said. “I knew Jacey was up to something, but I wouldn’t let her tell me what it was. Though hiding seems futile. Alice will turn the campus upside-down.”
“Oh, I don’t think they’re on campus,” Mr. Justin said. “You see, Belle managed to release Dr. Carlhagen from the medical ward and drive right out the front gate in the Jeep.”
“She did what?” Humphrey gasped. “That’s the last thing we need. Wait—do you think Jacey and Summer went with Dr. Carlhagen and Belle?” The idea seemed preposterous.
“No. I think that Belle and Dr. Carlhagen took the Jeep and Summer and Jacey slipped out while the gate was open.”
Humphrey put his face in his hands. Relief battled with anxiety. He was glad that Jacey and Summer were gone. He was horrified that Dr. Carlhagen was loose and that Belle was with him. And even more pressing than that was the prospect of facing Alice when she learned of it all the following morning.
“I’m going to play stupid as long as I can,” he said. “Delay, delay, delay. Give Jacey and Summer the chance to get far away and find some place to hole up.”
“That’s not going to help the situation here at the Scion School,” Mr. Justin said. “The longer Summer is missing, the more likely it is that the senator will call in a larger search team. Our control of the school will be ripped away. Soon after, your true identity will be discovered. Nothing I can do will protect you then.” Mr. Justin went to the window and gazed out. “And the island will offer no long-term safety for Jacey, Summer, or even Dr. Carlhagen. There is no way off.”
“This is just getting worse and worse,” Humphrey said. “What do you think I should do?”
Mr. Justin looked at his feet, clearly not wanting to say what came next. He raised his head then, expression cold. “You must tell the senator before Alice finds out. And then you need to hope they find Summer and get the transfer over with.”
17
Guile in His Eyes
Belle lifted the dainty white cup to her lips and sipped the hot tea. She didn’t care for it, but at least it was wet.
Vaughan sat across the small round table from her, frowning at his own cup, eyes at half-mast. Mother Tyeesha bustled by the sink of her small kitchen, drying a mahogany bowl with an embroidered towel.
Vaughan tipped his cup, draining the last of it. He set it down and let out a satisfied sigh. “That was wonderful, Mother. Thank you so much.” His lips spread, and his eyes crinkled with what might have been delight if he hadn’t looked so weary. He really needed to get to bed, but had so far refused Mother Tyeesha’s offer of her own room.
Mother Tyeesha put the bowl in a cabinet, nesting it inside a
stack of identical ones. “I’ll have to introduce you to the nursery staff and the assistant teachers.”
Vaughan pushed back his chair and stood. He had to press his hands to the table to stay upright. “Oh, how are Robin and Marcus doing?”
Mother Tyeesha froze momentarily, then turned off the water and wiped her hands on the towel. “They’re marvelous. Such a sweet couple. And they dote on the babes.”
“That’s excellent,” Vaughan said. Belle could tell by his sagging face that his smile was a work of will, and not much else. He backed out of the kitchen. “I’m going to go use your holodesk, if you don’t mind.”
Not waiting for permission, he disappeared down the short hall and into Mother Tyeesha’s tiny office. It was barely more than a closet, from what Belle had seen.
She watched the door where Vaughan had been standing. They were so close now, so near reaching freedom. All Vaughan needed to do was contact someone to come pick them up.
Mother Tyeesha sat in the chair that Vaughan had vacated, carefully dried the rim of his cup with the towel, then poured herself a cup. The wooden chair creaked beneath her, but from the way she looked, the sounds could just as easily have come from her bones.
So this is what an old woman looks like, Belle thought. No wonder the Progenitors buy Scions.
“What happened to Vaughan?” Mother Tyeesha asked, still intent on her cup.
Belle kept her face smooth. Mother Tyeesha couldn’t have known the truth, but the woman had always been intuitive. She had watched Vaughan grow up, so maybe she remembered his mannerisms and expressions. Belle squirmed inside to think of how much Mother Tyeesha knew about her. She had witnessed Belle’s unguarded emotions before Belle had learned to properly mask them.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Belle said.
Child of Lies Page 11