by A. L. Knorr
I nodded and took the papers from him and distributed them to the girls. They each took a copy and sat back to read it over.
After a few minutes, Georjayna said, "So, basically, we're not allowed to tell anyone anything about the location of the field station, the identities of anyone we interact with, and anything about the project we're going to be pitched today, under pain of a massive fine no one except Oprah could ever afford to pay."
"That sounds about right." Sy smiled. "Keep your lips sealed and there'll be no issues."
The girls signed and gave their copies to me. I passed them up to Sy, who folded them and tucked them into his jacket.
"Your parents must be a bunch of pretty cool cats to let you guys come along on a mysterious mission like this," Sy said.
When no one answered, he turned back to the group again with a curious look.
"My mom is working." Targa said as she pulled her helmet down over her glossy black hair. "But she'd be cool with it. In fact, she'd probably want to come. Just so you know, I'm only here out of curiosity, and to be with them." She gestured to the other three.
"Fair enough. Although I'm sure Miss Marks will be disappointed to learn you've already written the project off." Sy raised his eyebrows at Georjayna. "You?"
"My mom is at a conference." Georjayna shrugged. "She wouldn't care if I rented a Cessna and flew to New York for the weekend."
"You know how to fly?" Sy looked impressed.
"No. But we have good insurance." She gave that heart-stopping grin.
Sy laughed and his eyes drifted to Saxony. "What about you, Red?"
"I got a pass from my Prof." Saxony sat back and clicked her seatbelt into place. "That's all the permission I needed."
"Your…Prof?" Sy wrinkled his nose, perplexed.
"It's a long story."
"How about you?" Sy looked at Akiko. "Which parent did you have to bribe to be here?"
Her face impassive, she said, "I know I look like a minor, but I'm not. Every human I care about is in this helicopter. I'm exactly where I need to be."
"Alright then." Sy faced front and flicked a bunch of switches. "Good enough. Let's go." A low hum vibrated through the chopper and the blades began to turn.
"Sure I can't take a photo? Just one?" Saxony grinned at me from under her helmet. "We look so hot right now."
Targa turned her head toward Saxony. The dark glasses looked huge on her face. "You look like a bug."
I laughed and shook my head. They knew they wouldn't be allowed to record any of today's events in any way.
"How is it that TNC has clearance to use this helipad?" Georjie asked, her voice sounding slightly metallic through the headgear.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Akiko got there first.
"My guess is that TNC made a healthy donation to the fire department's upgrade back in two-thousand-three."
I nodded. "You'd be right." I had asked Sy this very question on one of my trips to the field station. It struck me that Akiko was much worldlier than she seemed. Most high school kids wouldn't jump to the conclusion that there'd been some donation made in order to use a private asset like a fire department's helipad, even though this was the way the world worked. Most high school kids wouldn't even ask such a question, so I supposed all the girls were rather worldly for their age.
Saltford fell away and the girls became absorbed with the view of their hometown as it shrank beneath us. City gave way to agricultural land, farms gave way to forest, and the forest went on forever. The chopper picked up speed and angled for the coastline, keeping it just in view on our right for most of the journey.
When the modular buildings of FS11 appeared in the distance, jutting up from the tight forest of evergreens, the girls strained at their seat belts for a better look.
"What's that?" Akiko asked, pointing beyond the compound. To me it seemed as though she was pointing at where the forest met the sky. I squinted in the direction she indicated, but it took me a full minute to see what she was talking about. I shot a side-glance at her. Her eyesight couldn’t be that good.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. Where she was pointing seemed so far away I thought it had to be outside the borders of TNC's property.
Now that we were closer, there was clearly a large patch of earth which had been clear-cut. It was close to the Atlantic and appeared to be a near perfect circle.
"What's that, Sy?" Saxony asked when I failed to produce an answer.
"You'll have to ask Hiroki or Miss Marks." Sy turned his face half-toward us between the two front seats of the cockpit. "I'm just the chauffeur."
The clear-cut patch of earth went out of view beyond a hill as Sy steered the helicopter toward the pad on the top of the highest TNC building, the one with the biggest lab beneath it. Sy cut the engines and instructed us to wait a minute before getting out. The whirring blades droned as they slowed, and then came to a sudden halt.
Leaving our headgear on the seats, we piled out of the helicopter and stepped out into the brisk morning air.
Hiroki was waiting for us at the corner of the helipad, wrapped up in a black oilskin jacket and wearing a gray knit hat jammed down around his ears. His expression was as close to excited as I'd ever seen it.
"Welcome, welcome, ladies!" He stepped forward and grabbed Saxony's hand, jiggling her arm enthusiastically and grinning into her face. "Welcome!"
I watched, bemused, as he passed through the line, shaking the girls’ hands each in turn and making sure he'd gotten their names right.
"Akiko," he said, nodding to the tiniest member of the group with a warm look which I respected him for. "Let's get out of this chilly breeze."
We followed him down the steps and into the building. He led us to a boardroom where an impressive spread of food had been laid out.
"Oh, man." Saxony unzipped her vest and shucked it. "Fresh croissants? Are those scones? It smells like a bakery in here. I'm suddenly starving."
"Have a seat and help yourself." Hiroki poured himself a coffee from the machine in the corner. "If you'd like a hit of caffeine after the early morning you've had, help yourself. This baby will make you whatever you want. I have to say, I quite fancy the vanilla-bean latte myself."
I cocked an eyebrow at Hiroki, and he shot me a 'who, me?' look of innocence accompanied by a barely perceptible shrug of the shoulder. Hiroki was schmoozing them. Hard. The girls wouldn't know it, but this was not the Hiroki I knew. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned by this behavior.
"Why, thank you, Hiroki," I said, mimicking his cavalier tone. "Vanilla bean, did you say? Don't mind if I do."
"Sounds great," said Georjayna, stepping up to the machine. "Oooh, chai. I love chai. Targa, there's a mocha setting. Want one?"
The girls began to relax. They doffed their hats and coats and helped themselves to the aromatic food. A general air of anticipation and companionship permeated the room.
I sat and filled a plate with breakfast as I observed Hiroki chatting with the girls. I was so taken off-guard by his charming behavior that I didn't join in the conversation. I just listened and observed the group dynamics as Hiroki drew the girls out of their shells. He asked them how their studies were going, about their family lives, how long they'd known one another, how they'd met. He never once mentioned supernatural abilities. In fact, his questions seemed to make the girls feel like they were talking to a family acquaintance, maybe even a friend. I could see them relax more and more with every minute that went by, their guards lowering, their smiles coming easier and faster.
His approach was smart...and manipulative.
I began to grow uncomfortable as the chit-chat went on and I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling Hiroki to drop the charade. It began to irritate me that he thought it was okay with me that he behave in a way that I knew was not in his true nature. Hiroki insisted on keeping a professional distance with me, as TNC expected, but here he was asking about their lives and relationships. Why would he be so
obviously one way with me in private, and so different with them?
For the first time since embarking upon my contract with TNC, I felt uneasy.
Saxony
"That was the best breakfast I've had in a long time," I said, putting a hand on my belly. I looked down at the still overflowing spread before us. "Were you expecting an army or something? There is a ton of leftovers."
"I'm glad you liked it," Hiroki said just as there was a tap at the door. "Come in."
A woman with her hair tied back in a severe bun poked her head in and nodded to us in general before saying to Hiroki, "They're ready for you now. Theatre three."
"Theatre?" Georjie mouthed at me.
I shrugged.
"Excellent." Hiroki got to his feet. "Before we go in, does anyone need to visit the restroom?"
We did, so Hiroki showed us where the facilities were, then waited until we finished. Then he bade us leave our coats and hats and follow him.
He led us down a hallway past several closed doors which I assumed were offices. We passed two sets of double doors labeled Theatre 1 and Theatre 2 before stopping at the third. Hiroki pushed the doors open and stepped aside to let us enter.
Inside was an intimate theatre with enough seats for no more than thirty people. The room was dimly lit and a dark curtain was drawn across what I assumed was a stage. There was no one else in the space aside from us.
"Take a seat for a moment, ladies," Hiroki said. "I'll just go check on Miss Marks."
We made our way down the gently sloping floor to the row in front of the stage where we sat down in plush seats. The five of us gawked at the small but clearly state-of-the-art theatre. It was impeccably clean. Each seat reclined and had a panel full of buttons on the armrest. I couldn't begin to guess what that many buttons were needed for in a theatre. Ordering popcorn delivered directly? From the look on Petra's face, I guessed she'd never been in this theatre, either.
"This just gets more and more intriguing," murmured Targa.
"Tell me about it," muttered Petra.
"You really don't know anything more than we do?" Akiko shifted in her seat to face Petra.
Petra shook her head. "They've been careful not to tell me anything. It’s important to Miss Marks that the four of us learn about the project all at the same time."
"Who is Miss Marks?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Something about being in a dark theatre automatically made me feel like I should be quiet.
"She's the CEO of this division of TNC."
"And have you ever met Mr. Nakesh?" Georjie asked, also keeping her voice low.
"Nope, but Hiroki says we will today. I guess that's one thing I knew that you didn't." Petra looked momentarily struck. "I have no idea if I was supposed to tell you that or not. Honestly, all the layers of secrecy in this place are enough to drive me mental."
"Ladies." A voice which did not belong to Hiroki had us shift in our seats to look back at the open double doors.
A tall slender woman in a white suit had her back to us and was just closing the double doors. She clicked them shut and turned to walk silently down the carpeted floor in white patent-leather high heels. Right away I thought that this woman and Georjie's mother might have a lot in common; she looked like she'd come from the womb in a power-suit. She walked with her chest held up and out so that her posture was perfect, her shoulders thrown back confidently. Her perfectly tailored skirt and jacket had thin gray pinstripes running down them. Her hair was a uniform light gray and pinned up in a clean french twist. Her bangs were trimmed straight across and hid her forehead. Her face was unlined, but whether that was because she never expressed herself or she'd had work done, who knew. The silver hair suggested experience and the flawless complexion suggested money and meticulous care. The eyes that took us in with an almost hungry gaze were yellow-brown, a similar color to the wood used to make expensive yachts.
"Hello, ladies," she said smoothly. "We meet at last. I have been looking forward to this moment more than I can say. I'm Jody Marks." She walked past us and perched against the stage, crossing her legs at the ankles. There was an undercurrent of excitement in the way she spoke, as though she really was thrilled to meet us but was trying not to let too much emotion leak through. "You can call me Miss Marks." Her teak-colored eyes fell on Petra and she gave her a polite nod and a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. "Miss Kara."
"Miss Marks," Petra murmured, and returned the closed-mouth smile.
I thought that a look passed from Jody to Petra that seemed very calculated.
"I'm sure you're all dying of curiosity," Miss Marks said with a hollow chuckle. She folded her hands together and I noticed her fingernails were done up in a french manicure. "Before we get to the good stuff, I want to thank you for coming. No matter how today turns out, no matter what you choose, I want you to know that TNC is eternally grateful for the time you've taken from your lives to be here today. You've made the decision to meet with us based on very little information."
I watched, impressed, as she lifted a hand to her heart. She seemed really sincere.
She continued, "And that decision shows a level of faith in us that we've yet to earn. Hopefully you’ll allow us to reward that faith." She arched a fine silver eyebrow. “We compensate our supernaturals in the seven-figure range and sometimes even eight, depending on their abilities."
Georjie and I shared a look. Georjie's expression, much like I knew my own would be, was one of amazement and raging curiosity. Seven and sometimes eight figures? What on earth did these people have in mind? With that kind of money, I could change the lives of my family. We were solidly middle-class and had never wanted for the necessities of life, but with the kind of money she was talking about, possibilities were blown wide open. The build-up to this reveal was making me feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin with anticipation.
"I have received your paperwork, thank you also for that," Miss Marks was saying. She inclined her head with gratitude. "I must impress upon you, we take our contracts seriously and will prosecute should we have any reason to believe that details of the project we've shared with you today have been leaked to the outside world. We are a multi-billion-dollar company with numerous powerful competitors. We did not become this successful by being cavalier about…" She paused thoughtfully. "…Well, about anything. We are professionals, and we will treat you as though you are professionals also."
My throat had gone a little dry and I wished I'd brought a bottle of water from the breakfast table. She hadn't said any of this with a threatening tone, but the words sure nailed things home well enough. Secrecy. Got it.
"Petra has told you that we have a special interest in hiring and grooming supernaturals for some of our projects." As she said this, she lifted a wrist and tugged back the sleeve of her suit jacket to look at her watch. She frowned, the corners of her mouth tugging down delicately, almost imperceptibly, like she'd trained her face to go no farther since it might mar her perfect features.
Targa shifted uncomfortably in her seat and I thought I knew what she was thinking. More people who knew about her supernatural nature. And not just anyone—powerful people.
Miss Marks looked up, just missing Targa's discomfited movements. She looked up high on the back wall and squinted. She seemed to be addressing someone behind the black windows at the back of the theatre. "I was expecting Mr. Nakesh to have joined us by now, but he seems to be running late. Let's go ahead without him. I'm sure he'll join us as soon as he can."
In response, the curtain began to open on a silent runner. What it revealed surprised me. The stage was circular. A long, curved console accompanied by several keyboards and complicated control panels ringed the platform. Black chairs were slid in under the console. In the center of the circular space was a low indented desk with dark glass, making it look like a large cyclopean eye jutting up from the floor.
It felt like a place rockets were launched from, or a war-room or something. Chrome and shining b
lack screens and fixtures gleamed neatly from the stage. My breath hitched with surprise and my pulse sped up. The whole thing made Basil's high-tech testing facility look hokey.
"Whoa," Georjie said on an exhale beside me. She shot me a look of incredulity.
"Do these people work for Tony Stark or something?" I said it on the barest whisper, but it still earned me an elbow in the arm.
"Come on." Miss Marks straightened and climbed the short set of steps leading up to the space station/war-room. "This will be interactive to a degree. We like to have everyone comfortable and able to move around if they wish. Different vantage points are important since this presentation is done in-the-round, to borrow some theatre lingo." She chuckled at her own wittiness.
We followed her up the steps and onto the stage where she directed us to grab our chairs and roll them to face the eye in the center. In spite of her claims about this being a round presentation and we could spread out as we wished, the five of us brought our chairs into a semi-circular line on one side of the space. Miss Marks stood opposite us.
The double doors opened and Hiroki entered. The doors snicked shut behind him, sealing out the light of the hallway. He made his way down to the stage and joined us. His brow gleamed with sweat and he took out a kerchief and mopped it. It wasn't particularly warm in the theatre, but I thought perhaps he had a bit of stage-fright. That simple gesture, of cleaning moisture off his brow, did more to send the message home: it was very important to them that they impress us; this was a one-shot deal for them. Whatever they wanted from us, they wanted it bad.
Jody leaned close to Hiroki and asked something in a quiet voice. Her eyes flicked to Targa once, but I thought I heard her say Mr. Nakesh’s name again.
Hiroki looked down at his watch and gave her a shrug that said, I don't know.
"Right," Miss Marks said, turning her attention from Hiroki to us. Her expression was serious.
I wondered if she was sweating under that expensive-looking suit. I wished she would relax, maybe put on a hoodie and a pair of running shoes and chill out. She was making me nervous.