The Rings of Grissom: Tales of a Former Space Janitor

by Julia Huni

  Andron has circled around behind me and is ready to jump in and grab Angie. I wave him off. “Don’t.” I turn back to the old woman. “Come on, let’s just go.”

  Angie grabs my arm and pulls herself up. “I coulda taken him.”

  “He’s on our side.” As I turn, I glance at Ro. He grins and points at his screens. He’s got three cams trained on Angie, catching her impromptu mixed martial arts demo live. “That’s not going out on the net, is it?” I whisper harshly.

  “Course it is.” Ro grins and swipes in another drone to catch the crowd’s reaction. “Don’t want dead air while we wait for the senator.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. At least I’m not recognizable. But anyone tracking the avenger boys could figure it out. Maybe.

  “Come on.” I drag Angie toward the edge of the square. A few in the crowd clap, and Angie stops to take a bow. Laughter and more applause follow. I wait on the sidelines, rubbing my temple, as Angie darts out and takes another bow.

  She comes back while the crowd continues to cheer. “Always leave them wanting more. Let’s go.” She waves one more time then steps under the awning of the nearest shop and trots down the sidewalk.

  Andron hurries after her. “We were waiting for you.”

  “Let’s go, Sera,” Ferrigi mutters. “Stay together.”

  I glare at him. How’d I get left with the bossy one?

  The narrow aisle under the awnings is cordoned off. We walk along the shaded strip, slowing to look in shop windows. Angie and I stop at one to gaze at the amazing assortment of pastries. A young woman in a dark green suit with Van Valkenburgh emblazoned on the chest hurries up to us. “Please, keep moving. If you want to stop and watch the senator, we’ll find you a place in the square.”

  I exchange a perplexed look with Angie. “We stopped to look at the cakes, not the senator,” she says. “These are much more interesting.”

  The young woman’s face goes red. “We’re required to keep these aisles clear. Please, keep moving.” She flicks her holo-ring, and a bright red icon with the word Security across it pops up.

  “No thanks.” Angie waves at Andron and Ferrigi. “We brought our own.” She links her arm through mine and strolls away.

  I bite back a laugh. “You old troublemaker.”

  “Hey, watch who you call old, ya crone,” she retorts.

  We wander to the front of the square where the crowd pushes against a meter-high stage. As we approach, a line of massive, green-suited men and women step forward to block the walkway. They stand shoulder to shoulder, their eyes hidden behind dark visors.

  A short woman appears. Her hair is dyed the same green, and she’s wearing a matching suit. She hurries behind the line of guards and climbs the steps to the stage, a small entourage following behind. At the same time, a voice announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, Senator Van Valkenburgh.” The green line falls back to block access to the steps, and the crowd cheers.

  “Look, there’s Yuri!” Angie darts around the green suits toward the rear of the platform. “Yuri!”

  “Angie!” I lunge after her, certain the guards will see her as a threat and take her down. The green suits let us by, but behind me, I hear a scuffle.

  Several voices bark, “Halt!”

  “Sera!” Ferrigi calls.

  I look over my shoulder. Four of the green suits have blocked Andron and Ferrigi. They look as immovable as the cliffs at the Ebony Coast. “Angie, they’ve—”

  A wave of heat flings me across the walkway, slamming me into the stone building. Fire erupts everywhere. Screams are cut off by a resounding boom.

  Twenty-Five

  Smoke billows, stinging my eyes. Heat presses against my face and arms. My skin feels singed. A muffled roar presses against my ears. I blink, tears spilling out of my eyes. Green suited legs stumble past, a mass of people hurrying away.

  I check in with my body parts, but everything seems to be there and working. I peel myself away from the wall and roll to my hands and knees. A stray breeze whips some smoke away, and a clear space forms just above the ground. I crawl across the walkway, the rough surface ripping at my hands and knees. Angie’s white hair, mussed and dirty, waves in the hot breeze, but she doesn’t seem to be moving.

  “Angie!” I call. I can’t hear anything except my voice echoing inside my head. I crawl closer. “Angie!”

  As I reach her side, she groans and rolls over. Her face is dirty, her eyebrows have been singed off, and blood drips from a cut above her left eye. She grins. “That was exciting.”

  At least I think that’s what she’s saying. I can’t hear anything but a roaring in my ears. I try activating my audio implant and swipe my hand through Angie’s call icon.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounds tinny, but I can hear it.

  “Angie, are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine, but Yuri might be feeling a bit bruised. I landed right on top of him.” She points as Yuri levers himself up.

  I swipe Yuri into the call. “Are you hurt?” I ask again.

  Yuri looks at me, his confusion obvious. “I hear Triana. Who’s that?” He points at me.

  Angie laughs. “That’s Triana. She’s in disguise.”

  Yuri turns back to Angie. “You saved my life, Grandma.” He points at a huge hunk of rock. “I was standing right there.”

  “Huh, and here I was thinking you cushioned my fall.” Angie starts to get up but wavers, putting a hand to her head.

  “Stay down,” I say. “Let me stop the bleeding.” I scoot closer and pull Vanti’s first aid kit from my pocket. Snapping the flat package open, I take a look at the printed inventory. Wound Clean. Good. Pressure Patch. Perfect. I wipe the blood away and peel off the patch’s protective coating. Another swipe with the cleaning pad, and the patch goes on. It tightens across her skin, pulling her eyebrow up and closing the gash.

  Angie touches her temple. “Feels like a mini-face-lift! Bonus.”

  The smoke has thinned, and Yuri stands. “Are you all right?” He reaches a hand down to me.

  “A little bruised from hitting the wall.” I take his hand and let him pull me up. “I don’t know if we should try to move Angie.”

  “I’m fine. Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” She grabs Yuri’s hand and pulls herself up. She totters, so I grab her other arm.

  “Let’s see if we can get her inside. The bridal shop is just over there—if it survived.” I point over the stage. Around us, the smoke has cleared. The wall of green suits has vanished, and presumably the senator with them. A twisted hulk of metal is all that’s left of the steps. The bunting on the front of the platform burns, giving off acrid fumes. Through the muffling roar in my ears, I hear faint cries and moans.

  “Good. Were you two here alone?” He guides the old woman around the back of the stage.

  “Oh, crap, no!” I turn, looking for our security detail. “Get her inside. I need to find them.”

  Leaving Angie with Yuri, I dash back to the mangled steps. A man lies on his side, his legs pinned under the metal, but it’s not Andron or Ferrigi. I crouch beside him, checking for a pulse. “This guy is alive!” I holler, but I don’t know if anyone can hear me.

  “I’ll see if I can send emergency services to you,” Yuri says via the audio link.

  “Thanks. Did you find a safe place for Angie?” I ask absently as I try to remember my first aid training. I don’t think Vanti’s kit is going to help this guy.

  A hand grabs my shoulder. I jerk away, spinning around on my haunches.

  Ferrigi is there, saying something I can’t hear. I tap my ear and turn back to the man. Ferrigi grabs my arm again. I glare over my shoulder then notice a man in white behind him. The blue star on his uniform identifies him as medical personnel. I scoot out of the way then slowly get to my feet.

  Ferrigi says something else, but I ignore him. I swipe my communications icon and bring him into the call. “Where’s Andron?”

  “He’s okay. Checking in with the p
eacekeepers.” Ferrigi takes my elbow and urges me away from the emergency personnel. “We need to get you to safety.”

  “I’m fine—” I start to say, but he doesn’t stop pushing. “Angie and Yuri are in the shop. Let’s go there.” I yank my arm out of his grip and head around the back of the stage. Ferrigi follows.

  The Knot’s windows must be made of blast-plas; they’re scratched but not shattered. I wave the door open and stumble inside. Cool air with a faint citrus tang greets us. Angie huddles on an overstuffed white couch, her blackened clothing leaving dark streaks on the pristine material. I hope it’s easy to clean. Yuri stands beside her, swiping through his holo-screens. My audio connection goes dead.

  A blonde woman in an elegant blue suit approaches, her eyes wide and frightened. Her voice reaches me like an echo in a long tunnel. “This shop is by invitation only.”

  I stare at her. “A bomb just went off outside your store, and you want to check your guest list?”

  She wrings her hands, her eyes darting from me to Ferrigi. His black clothing is torn and burnt, and I’m sure I don’t look very reputable, either. “It’s not that. But our current client had some security concerns, so, as you can imagine, an explosion just outside…”

  “If your current client has security concerns, you shouldn’t mention them to random strangers,” Ferrigi growls.

  I put a hand on his arm. “We’re with your two o’clock client.” I flick my identification to her. “And I know they would want you to extend relief to anyone who needs it.”

  “Yes, of course.” She glances at my ID. The blue verified symbol pops up, and her eyes fly back to my face. “Sera Morgan?”

  “Since I’m possibly the target of that security concern, you can understand why I’d feel the need to travel incognito.” I touch my white waves, which, if Angie is anything to go by, probably look like they belong to a corpse.

  “Quite so. Would you and your party like to move into the fitting area?” She steps aside and gestures to a blue door at the rear of the small shop.

  “I need to find Ro.” Yuri jerks as if he’s just woken up. “I’m sure he’s fine. He was at the back of the crowd. But I can’t get through on the comm.”

  “Where’s Andron?” I ask as Yuri hurries past. “Be careful, Yuri!”

  He waves and dashes away.

  “He’s coming,” Ferrigi says. “Had to give a statement to the peacekeepers. They aren’t going to like us being involved in a second explosion in two days.”

  I start to giggle but choke back the hysteria. “They will not be pleased. Where’s everyone else?” I swipe my comm system up but can’t get a connection. The four-way call with Yuri, Angie, and Ferrigi has crapped out. Luckily, my hearing is returning.

  “Comms were probably affected by the blast. Or overridden by emergency services. I’m shocked your local call worked.” Ferrigi offers Angie a hand and ushers us both toward the blue door. “And we’re a little early. I’m sure the others will be here soon.”

  The blue door shuts behind us with a whomp. “It’s sound-proof,” the blue-suited woman says. “We get high end clients who don’t wish to be overheard.” She nods to another blue door at the rear of the building. “Most of our prestigious clients come in through the back—that’s why I was so surprised to see you out there.”

  “We didn’t know.” I shrug and look around. Huge mirrors cover the walls and an alcove in the back of the room. A small stage raises the alcove a half-meter above the floor. To the left, a white door probably hides the dressing rooms.

  This room has several of the white couches—on closer inspection, I can see they’re Lether. That stuff wipes clean with a damp cloth. My lips twitch—I guess I’ll always be part space janitor. Knowing I won’t damage the material, I plop down on the closest one.

  “My name is Carolina. My partner, Vera, will assist you with the fitting.” She opens a hidden cupboard and pulls out a tray with several bottles of sparkling wine and a dozen beautiful crystal glasses. She sets it on the table and expertly pops the cork on the first bottle. “Please, enjoy this while you wait for your party.” She pours three glasses, sets the open bottle in the old-fashioned bucket, and retreats through the blue door.

  A white panel pops out of the wall, hinging like a door. Ferrigi spins toward it, his hands up and ready. It swings wider, revealing another woman in a blue suit. This one has dark hair in a fancy updo and dark eyes. “I’m Vera,” she says, giving Ferrigi a cool look. “Can I offer you something besides the bubbly?”

  Ferrigi shakes his head and retreats to stand beside the blue door.

  “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?” I ask.

  “Of course.” Vera disappears through the virtual curtain cast across the doorway. She returns a moment later with two bottles of sparkling water.

  “I don't suppose you have something stronger?” Angie asks. When Vera gives her a small head shake, she grabs a glass of the wine. “This will have to do.” She chugs it down and holds it out for a refill.

  I stand and take a glass to Ferrigi. “It’s just water. You gotta stay hydrated.”

  He eyes it suspiciously then takes a sip. With a nod, he follows Angie’s example. I grab the bottle and refill his glass.

  I tip my glass back and take a gulp. Dust drifts into my eyes and empty glass. I glance at Vera. “Could you show us to the ladies’ room? We’d like to clean up a bit.”

  “Of course, right this way, Sera.” She opens the white door, which leads to a short hallway. Ferrigi pushes past me to inspect the various empty dressing rooms. The last door on the right reveals a large bathroom. We wait for Ferrigi to check for enemy bridesmaids, then Angie follows me in, the half-full bottle of bubbly in one hand. She shuts the door in Ferrigi’s face.

  I stare at the mirror in horror. My left eyebrow is missing. Soot covers my wrinkled forehead, and my white hair is filthy. The Knot thoughtfully provides a full range of facial care products, so I wash my face. A quick session in the InstaFab booth gives me a tidy if not fabulous hairstyle.

  Angie sits on the white bench along the wall, the bottle dangling from her fingers, her eyes closed.

  “Angie, are you all right?”

  Her eyes pop open, and a watery smile crosses her face. “I...don’t know. I’ve never been blown up before. It’s got me a little frazzled.”

  I take the bottle from her and hold it up to the light. “But you aren’t drinking.”

  “I think this is too serious for alcohol.” She sets her crystal glass on the side table and runs a hand through her thick white curls.

  “You should get cleaned up.” I drop back onto the couch, and a cloud of fine ash poofs up around me. “You’ll feel better.”

  She coughs dramatically and gives me another weak grin. “I think I look pretty bad-ass covered in soot. But the dress fitting might not go as planned.”

  “Why don’t you use that shower? I’ll get you something to change into.” I nudge her with my shoulder toward the small, elegantly appointed stall. There’s a changing space with another of the Lether benches and an inner booth with a sonic shower, a full range of beauty products, and buffing towels warming on a rack. “I’ll bring your dress in here.” I look at my dirty clothing. “Or maybe I’ll have Vera bring it in.”

  She rises with a grunt and heads into the little room. I grab the champagne and push open the door.

  Ferrigi escorts me the five steps down the hall and opens the outer door. He makes me wait while he scopes out the room then allows me to enter.

  Ty’s mom and sisters have arrived, and they’re oohing and aahing over the champagne and a tray of appetizers on the low table. They look up in surprise when I enter.

  “May I help you?” Serena sets her glass down and rises from the white couch. She gives me a second look, her eyes catching on my torn and dirty clothing. “Who are you and what happened?”

  Twenty-Six

  “There was a bit of an explosion outside,” I say. “Angie needs some ne
w clothes.”

  “Angie? Is she okay?” Serena pushes past me to the bathroom.

  “Who are you?” Aretha stalks toward me. “I know that voice.”

  I start to give her my best “what’s wrong with you” look then remember I don’t exactly look like myself. “It’s me, Triana. I, uh, had a makeover.”

  “Triana? What are you doing here?” Aretha touches my hair in wonder. “And why would you…?”

  Still sitting on the couch, Akiko crosses her arms, her lips pursed. “She used some kind of mod to sneak out when she should have stayed safely at home. You know you’re at risk! I can’t believe you would put Grandma Angie in danger!”

  I hold up both hands, trying to ward off her anger. “It was Angie’s idea!”

  “She’s a million years old,” Akiko scoffs. “Maybe senile. Unfit to make that kind of decision. You should know better!”

  I glare at her. I want to argue it’s Angie’s fault, but Akiko’s right. I know better. I should have stayed at home. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Angie stands in the doorway, wrapped in a white robe with the boutique’s logo embroidered in pink on the chest. “If we hadn’t been here, Yuri would be dead. That bomb had nothing to do with Triana. It was aimed at Senator Van Valkenburgh.” She pushes Ferrigi out of the way, stomps across the room to Akiko, and drops into a martial arts crouch. “And if you call me senile again, little girl, we’ll see who’s unfit. I can take you.”

  I bite back a grin. I’ll bet she could. Akiko is soft and plump. Angie is a terror.

  “Grandma.” Serena takes Angie’s arm. “Let’s not start any physical altercations.”

  “What did you mean about Yuri?” Aretha takes the bottle from me and fills her glass.

  While Angie explains about the explosion, I retreat to the bathroom again. I find another robe and make use of the shower. After transferring my cash and Vanti’s tech to a robe pocket, my filthy clothing goes into a refresher—if it survives the cleaning, I’ll put it back on before we leave.