by David Bruns
Instead, he pointed to the door at the far end of the room. “Speak of the devil!”
Elise Kisaan stood framed in the three-meter-high drawing room doorway. She was clad in a flowing robe of white that hung on the curves of her very pregnant body. She wore no makeup and her straight dark hair was drawn back in a simple braid over her Neo tattoo. Her long face was drawn.
The room stood still and silent. Then Cora advanced cautiously. Elise’s smile lit up her face, making the lines and tiredness evaporate. She held out both hands to Cora. “Corazon, I’m so glad to see you again.”
Graves watched Cora’s shoulders quiver at Elise’s words, knowing his friend was crying tears of joy. Elise guided Cora’s hands to her belly.
From his vantage point at the back of the room, Graves could see everyone’s face in profile as they watched the scene play out before them. Tony had a smirk on his face, the edges of his lips twitching. Anthony and Viktor were standing together wearing nearly identical sympathetic expressions. Graves shifted his gaze to Adriana. Her eyes were cold and piercing and her sharp features were twisted into an angry scowl. This was a woman with an axe to grind.
A young man stepped close to her and she whispered into his ear. The man was Adriana’s height with thinning brown hair brushed straight back and a slight but wiry frame. The most notable thing about him was that he had an old paperback book tucked into his back pocket.
Their encounter lasted all of two seconds, so quickly that if Graves had not been staring at Adriana at that moment, he might have missed the meeting entirely. Graves swiveled his head to look around the room, but the man was gone.
Anthony stepped forward to put a fatherly hand on Elise’s shoulder. “Now that Elise has joined us, let’s go in to dinner, shall we?”
The wall to Graves’s left retracted to reveal a dining table set for seven. Anthony shooed his guests forward, using a pat on the back here, a gentle arm squeeze there. When he got to Graves, he guided him to one of two settings on the long side of the rectangular table. Graves surveyed the battlefield. Across from him were three places, then one on either flank. He and Cora would be on display—and surrounded—for dinner.
Cora touched his hand briefly as they all stood behind their chairs. Anthony took the center place directly across from Graves and Cora, with Adriana and Tony on either side. Elise and Viktor took the short ends of the table. Cora had secured her place closest to Elise.
Graves heard the doors close behind him, shutting out the European drawing room decor. In contrast, the dining room was uber-modern, all sleek glass and sculpted steel. The chair when he dragged it back was heavy and resembled a steel torture device. But when he sat, Graves felt the chair mold to his body and lift off the floor.
Anthony watched his expression change when he sat. “Happens every time,” he laughed. “The Mollet chairs are the most comfortable seat money can buy.”
Graves was inclined to agree. The lighting in the ceiling was hidden, but arranged so that the table glowed, illuminating the faces of the diners but leaving the rest of the room around them in deep darkness. Waiters passed like shadows behind them. Disembodied hands placed seven oblong plates in front of the diners all at exactly the same moment.
The white plate was mostly empty, except for a squirt of something that looked like Dijon mustard and two squares of bread with a curlicue of deep green on top. Years of practice told Graves to watch Anthony for his dining cues.
The elder Taulke picked up one of the triangles with his fingers, dipped one tip in the yellow sauce, and popped the whole thing in his mouth. Graves followed suit. His eyes snapped open at the explosion of taste on his tongue. Sweet and hot at the same time. A glass of white wine appeared in front of him and he took a careful sip. The taste expanded and deepened, making Graves think of a day at the beach.
“Well, what do you taste? Good?” Anthony asked.
Graves nodded. “Very. I guess I’m not very good at this, but I tasted the ocean.”
Adriana’s eyes widened. “You have a very sensitive palate, General. The pairing with the wine is designed to bring out the essence of sea urchin, but it’s very subtle. Most people miss it.”
Graves noticed Elise ate only one of the triangles and left her wine untouched.
In spite of himself, Graves enjoyed the meal immensely and scored several more appreciative nods from Adriana and Anthony. Tony slouched in his seat and ate his courses in spiteful bites without seeming to savor them. Viktor spent more time drinking than eating. To his right, Cora spoke in low tones to Elise, mostly talking about her migration experience to the US.
Graves caught Adriana’s eye. “Who was that man you were speaking to in the other room? The one with the book in his pocket.”
Adriana froze. Anthony sensed the change in her demeanor and turned in her direction. To Graves’s surprise, Tony answered his question. “You mean Fischer. Man only reads real books, says he can feel the words coming off the page. Can you believe that?”
“What’s he doing up on this level?” Anthony asked. “Fischer is security, right?”
Tony sat up in his chair. He waved his hands dismissively. “I lent him to Adriana as a body man back in New York. Just temporarily.”
Anthony nodded and was about to ask another question when dessert arrived. He smiled at Graves. “Now, General, this you will truly appreciate—” He broke off when Elise sat up suddenly.
“You will have to excuse me, Anthony.” Her voice was pinched and her face twisted with discomfort. “I think I need to lie down for a bit.” She put a hand on her belly and grimaced. “I don’t think the meal agreed with me.” She stood up, still gripping the edge of the table.
Cora was on her feet. “I’ll be happy to help—” She gasped.
The lower half of Elise Kisaan’s white dress was covered in blood.
Chapter 29
Ming Qinlao • Qinlao Manufacturing Headquarters
Auntie Xi was dead.
Ming had built up the moment in her mind for so long and to such an extent that when dream met reality, reality suffered.
She expected elation. Or maybe satisfaction. But she felt none of those things. A scant twelve hours ago, she might have snapped her aunt’s neck without a second thought and now she felt … nothing.
The poison had been in her tea, or to be more precise, her teacup. Auntie Xi had a favorite teacup, an ancient, ceramic bowl replete with cracks and dings that she carried in her purse wherever she went. It was a slow-acting poison, which meant it could have been applied anytime over the last eighteen hours and could have been attributed to as many as a hundred people or more.
Marcus acted quickly. The sudden death of a CEO of a major corporation could be a catastrophic event, and Auntie Xi’s participation on Anthony Taulke’s Council of Corporations only made the potential impact greater.
“I propose we appoint Ming Qinlao as interim CEO,” he said to the assembled board later that day. “This needs to be kept quiet until we can determine who is targeting the company. We are now investigating the murder of two chief executives.”
“You’re sure they’re targeting the company and not Xi herself?” Danny Xiao’s normal playboy nonchalance was gone. The slim-cut suit emphasized his lean frame and he secured his stylish hair away from his eyes with gel. His face was hard and his gaze locked on Ming. He was all business today.
“Exactly what are you implying, Danny?” Ming kept her tone neutral. She was getting what she wanted, no need to settle old scores with scorned boyfriends. She let her gaze travel around the room, meeting each set of eyes with frank openness, letting Echo tell her what she needed to know. They were frightened. Even JC Han, who had seen his share of boardroom coups, looked more than concerned. She saved Sying for last, letting herself savor those dark eyes a second longer than was prudent in front of this audience. But no one seemed to notice. They were all thinking about their own skins.
“Well, Danny?” she said. “Let’s have it. You think I killed Xi. You s
aw the vid. She was the one person who had the means and the motive to kill my father and I wanted her dead. She lied to me about his death and everything else. But I didn’t do it.” She looked at Marcus. “Tell them.”
“Ming met with me last night. There’s no way she could have poisoned Xi.”
“All night?” Danny challenged, the hint of a leer on his face.
“No,” Sying broke in. “She spent the rest of the night with me.” Spots of color appeared on Sying’s cheeks as she faced the board, her gaze defiant. “We were—are—together.”
Ming didn’t need Echo to interpret the room’s reaction to the revelation that Ming and her stepmother were lovers. JC Han, Ming’s former father-in-law, had an expression carved from stone.
Marcus cleared his throat. “The important thing is that Ming is not a suspect, which makes her an ideal candidate to take over as interim CEO. I’ve already called in Ito to take over the investigation. In my estimation, we have perhaps twenty-four hours to find whoever killed both of these people. We will need complete cooperation from all of you.” His lips were set in a firm line and his back was ramrod straight. “Now, we are wasting time. I renew my proposal for Ming Qinlao to take over as interim CEO.”
In the end, the vote for Ming was unanimous. Even Danny Xiao voted for her.
When she turned around, Ito was there. He nodded at her and pulsed her a message: “Welcome back, Little Tiger.”
Marcus took her arm, steering her to the private elevator back to the apartment. “We need to talk,” he whispered. She tried to speak to him in the elevator and he cut her off. It wasn’t until they were back in her father’s study and had set up a jamming device that he uttered another word.
“The suit I saw you in last night,” he began. “You have new … capabilities? Ito said…” His voice trailed off.
“What are you asking, Marcus?” she said.
“Xi was working on something for the council. A secret project at the factory in Suzhou.”
Ming’s ears perked up at the mention of Suzhou. That was where she had developed the Lazarus nanites. “There’s no records of what she was working on?” Ming asked.
“There’s no records on any external device that I can find.” He peered at Ming, eyes narrowed.
Now she understood what he was asking her. Could she use MoSCOW to access Xi’s onboard implant?
“Where is she?” Ming asked.
• • •
Whatever poison was used, it must not have been painful. Apart from a bruise the size of a coin in the center of her forehead from when she slammed face first into the table, Xi’s perfectly maintained countenance was relaxed as if she was merely asleep.
Ming shut the bedroom door and locked it. Whatever happened, Marcus didn’t need to be part of this. She clenched and released her gloved fists, feeling the MoSCOW suit meld with her skin. All over her body, her amplified senses came alive, forcing Ming to take a deep, steadying breath.
Working quickly, she turned the corpse so that her head at the foot of the bed. Her aunt was loose and light in her arms, almost like a sleeping child. She arranged the body in repose, smoothing her dress with care and placing her arms to her side.
Ming knelt on the bed, taking Auntie Xi’s head in her lap. She looked down on the older woman’s face. Her chin had slackened and Ming carefully pressed her mouth closed. It stayed in place.
She placed the tips of her fingers on either side of Xi’s head and closed her eyes.
When the haptics of the suit merged with the dead flesh, it felt like she was pressing her fingers into marshmallow. She told herself it was just a sensation, but she kept her eyes closed anyway.
The fingers of her right hand found the implant and energized it. Her left hand shook as the suit pumped energy into the decaying brain. Ming’s lips trembled from the effort of establishing the connection. Echo was by her side, merged with her consciousness, pushing with her…
And then, like stepping through a curtain of water, she was on the other side. Ming had become her aunt. She sucked in a deep strangling breath, fighting to maintain control. The room around her spun and she felt darkness leaking into the corners of her vision.
Ming clenched her eyes harder and refocused.
Data files. She needed to find the Suzhou factory data files.
Echo navigated her through the maze of personal storage that existed in her aunt’s implant. The Suzhou file was massive, filled with snippets of recordings, invoices, designs, notes…
Find conversations with Anthony Taulke, she instructed Echo. Private conversations.
Images spun by her in a kaleidoscope of color and garbled sound, stopping on a crystal-clear screen shot of Anthony Taulke.
“Viktor will get you the designs, Xi,” he said. “I need to know if you can manufacture them in sufficient quantity in time for the launch.”
“Are you sure they will work as advertised?” It was creepy to hear her dead aunt’s voice in Ming’s own head. “After all, Viktor’s track record on this is not the best. Neither is yours, Anthony dear.”
Anthony flinched as if he’d been slapped. “These nanites are designed to kill the Lazarus bugs and put us back in charge of the weather. Now, can I count on you?”
“It depends.” Ming knew Auntie Xi’s negotiating voice.
“What do you want?”
“My niece.” Ming felt a ball of icy rage build in her stomach. “I want your assurances that she will be safe after all this.”
Ming’s brain slammed to a halt. She paused the recording and listened again. I want your assurances that she will be safe after all this.
Anthony frowned. “Are you sure? I have doubts about her loyalty to me. I can make her disappear for you.”
“I made a promise to my brother that I would protect her. I failed to protect him and I failed to keep her out of the company. The company was always Jie’s blind spot. He could never understand that a family legacy is not about an invention, it’s about the people you leave behind. All Ming ever wanted was to be left alone to live her life in peace. Now she’ll never have that chance.”
“As long as you side with me on the council, Xi, I will do whatever you want,” Anthony said.
“And I will side with you as long as it is in my family’s best interest.”
Ming felt the connection to Xi’s implant fading. In the final few seconds, she downloaded the design specs from the Suzhou file.
The bedroom in the apartment snapped back into focus. Ming blinked as if emerging from a dream.
Auntie Xi … was trying to protect her? It made no sense. She tried to remember each interaction with her imperious aunt, trying to place them in a new frame of reference.
She had been in her Auntie Xi’s head, heard the words, felt the intonation, sensed the intention behind each syllable. There was no faking that kind of emotion, especially with Echo looking over her shoulder.
And then there was the way she had spoken about her brother. Those were not the words and feelings of a murderer.
Ming placed Xi’s head gently on the bed. She could feel a slight tension in the corpse’s muscles. Rigor mortis was beginning to settle in.
Ming swayed as she stood, feeling both sick and hungry at the same time. She fumbled with the door lock and plodded to the study where Marcus waited for her. He looked up when she entered. “Well?”
Ming nodded. She spied a tray of food left over from her breakfast and unceremoniously stuffed a Danish into her mouth, then another and another. Marcus waited. She washed down the carbohydrates with a lukewarm cup of tea from the ceramic teapot. Then she collapsed onto the couch next to her lawyer.
“It worked. I—I…” She hesitated. How could she explain what it was like to be inside her aunt’s head? Hear her thoughts, experience her point of view? Her stomach turned with a mixture of guilt and half-chewed food as Marcus waited patiently.
Ming took a deep breath. “First thing, I want the Suzhou factory shut down and the nanites
they’re building destroyed.”
“But what about—”
He stopped when Ming held up her hand. “Destroy it all. Designs, work product, prototypes, everything. Destroy the entire building if you have to. Next, we have a new problem: Auntie Xi did not kill my father.”
She let that sink in. Marcus stared at her owlishly. “Then who did?”
Ming got to her feet. She felt strong again, steady. The final piece clicked into place in her head like the completion of a massive jigsaw puzzle. She stepped back and saw the full picture for the first time. A now-familiar sensation of cold rage settled like a stone in her gut.
Ming Qinlao had been used for the last time.
“I’m going to the council meeting.”
Chapter 30
Corazon Santos • Olympus Station
Cora caught Elise Kisaan as she fell back into the chair. As she eased the pregnant body into the adaptive cushion of the Mollet chair, Elise gripped her hand. Her fingers were cold and clammy, like being touched by a sea creature.
“It’s not time,” Elise whispered. “The baby is not ready. Something is wrong.”
Cora turned to Anthony Taulke. “I’ll take her to her quarters if someone will show me the way.”
“I’ll get the medical staff—” Anthony began.
“No!” Elise cut him off, then winced in pain again. “No one but Corazon.”
Cora placed her hand on the woman’s belly and felt rock-hard muscles. Elise Kisaan was going into premature labor. “We’re wasting time. She needs to lie down now.”
As she turned back, her gaze took in the rest of the people around the dining room table. All the men had looks that ranged from fear to compassion, but Adriana wore a hard, impatient expression, as if Cora dared to interrupt a perfectly good party. She locked eyes with Adriana. “Show me her quarters. Now!”
The order snapped Adriana out of whatever reverie she was caught in. She helped Cora spin the chair around and push it away from the well-lighted table. The hallways of Olympus were wide and covered with short fiber carpet that deadened the sound of their footsteps leaving on the sound of Elise breathing in short, sharp bursts. Cora put a comforting hand on her shoulder and felt the other woman’s body ease into relaxation.