Betrayed Hero (Atramento Book 2)

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Betrayed Hero (Atramento Book 2) Page 8

by Nix Whittaker


  He packed up everything and left the basket at the back door of the house before he pulled her off in another direction.

  Warren dragged her amongst the buildings which made up University Hill.

  “Where are we going now?” Natasha asked.

  He smiled at her with his eyes. “Well, you know how you showed me things which you liked about the city, I want to show you the best part of University Hill? We are going to the City Charter building.”

  “What is that?” Natasha squinted down the road they were walking along to see if she could see the building he was talking about. She turned to look at him when he didn’t answer straight away.

  He hesitated as his eyes searched her face for a second. “You really need to read a bit more about our history. The Charter building is the seat of the city government. It is where the charter was signed in the early days of the city. I don’t think I have ever met someone who couldn’t care less about politics as you.”

  Natasha laughed. “I could show you others. I hope that doesn’t bother you that I don’t care.”

  He said, “Contrary, it is refreshing. It means you are really here just for me.”

  Her eyes warmed and she leant forward and brushed his lips. “Just you.”

  Warren’s hand tightened on hers. “I don’t think you understand, Natasha. I’m the son of the weather shield makers. If this world had royalty, my parents would be it. If my dad wanted anything all, he would have to do is ask. I’ve had more than a few chase me merely because of my family name. But that doesn’t matter to you at all.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “If I was being snobbish enough to care about that, I would have moved to the city and set myself up as a princess. After all, my dad was the saviour of the city long before your parents arrived. It just looks like annoying work to me. Work which means nothing, which has no substance and will eventually eat me alive. Frankly, I’m smart enough to run away from that future as fast as I can.”

  His eyes sparked with amusement. “You are more than smart enough. Come, it isn’t far.”

  Warren gestured to an old hotel further down the road.

  He guided her into the spacious building. Their steps echoed as they approached a desk in the middle of the room. As the guest she let Warren do the talking.

  He lent forward. “I’m Warren Nasser and I’ve made an appointment.”

  The man behind the desk glanced at him, then waved to something and in a bored tone said, “Warren is here, Sir.”

  There must have been an answer as the man turned back to them. “You know where to go.”

  Warren pulled her away from the desk. She drawled, “I take it you come here often.”

  “I did when I was younger. We keep here the oldest records in the city. I moved on from the local history fairly quickly when I realised I wanted to study ancient people. But the old Foreman for the tower has a suite here. He is an old friend of the family, so always welcomes me. Besides, you aren’t allowed to go through the records without a guide.”

  Warren guided her through the maze of corridors. The man was closing the door when they stopped by his office.

  He smiled at them. “Ah, Warren, good to see you are all right. We were worried there for a while when you went missing.”

  The man smiled at her and added. “I can see why she was important.”

  He offered her a hand. “I’m Portland. An old friend of Warren’s.”

  He was old with silvered hair which was mostly gone from the top of his head. He had managed to only put on a little weight over the years. He was a large man, so that was a blessing he hadn’t turned round as he aged. Clearly, he wasn’t afraid of his age as his eyes were crinkled from many years of smiling.

  Portland nodded down a corridor. “You said, you wanted to see the actual Charter. Well, they put that in a fancy case in the corner of the library so this way, please.”

  Warren and Portland chatted as they walked about something Portland had been working on. It didn’t take them very long to get to the library. Portland led them to an oversized glass case and motioned to the large sheet of paper.

  “They wanted it all on one page like the old declaration of independence. I think they wanted to feel like a proper country when they did that. Of course, we have added to the Charter over the years, but only if it doesn’t contradict anything on here.”

  He pointed to something. “Warren said you would be interested in the named parties. See, here it names three parties who would in perpetuity gain recompense from the city for their part in making the city possible. The first are my people. We gain a fraction of the royalties collected from the power and water taxes. Mind you, even that fraction has made us all very comfortable and all our children as well. Certainly, worth the risk.”

  Natasha leaned over so she could see the names written in ink on the thick paper. “My dad said they attacked you guys a few times and you had to work wearing bulletproof vests until you got high enough not to have to worry about snipers.”

  Portland said, “Aye, we did. They were hot as hell and weighed a ton, but well worth the effort. Saved my life one time when the rebels managed to get a sniper on a building near the tower.” He tapped his chest. “Would have gone straight through me if I hadn’t been wearing that vest.”

  He pointed back to the Charter. “The next party is old Harry Hauser. He had been struggling for years to keep his wind farm going just outside the city. He mainly provided power to factories because it was hard to get money off domestic contracts. Meant there was plenty for the shield though. He pretty much abandoned the old windmills outside the city once the shield was fully grown. His son Digger hasn’t done much with them since his father died.”

  Natasha nodded as she peered just a little closer, scanning the page for her father’s name. She said absently as she looked, “They look like dead trees from a distance and only when they don’t get much smaller when you get closer you realise how big they are.”

  Portland looked at her for a while. “From the Edge, are you?”

  She said, “I grew up there.”

  “That brings me to the last-named party in the charter. Sergei and Alexei Zolnerowich, they saved this city well before the weather shield. Sergei lived out at the Edge. The river had dried up one year and we were all dying and then this man arrives with a water truck. That was Sergei, he always thought ahead. I helped him put in those pipes of his, all the way from the Edge to here. We would have all left the city that year if it wasn’t for him. His brother lived here for a while, but disappeared a few years ago. Not sure what happened to him. He was a good guy though. He worked for me a bit when he first moved to the city.”

  Natasha finally saw her father’s name in the text of the Charter. It really did say he was supposed to get money from the city. “Alexei was killed in a shootout between gangs about ten years ago.” She said absently as she studied the Charter closer.

  Portland moved his eyes to her. “You’re Sergei’s little girl, aren’t you? How is he doing now?”

  She finished reading and looked up. “Yeah, I am. And he is scraping by on the Edge.”

  Portland said, “If he is struggling why hasn’t he touched his quota all these years?”

  Warren interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about that. Is the quota set aside or is it part of the city funds?”

  Portland frowned as he answered. “City funds. Why do you ask?”

  Warren tapped the glass of the case and said, “Well, the only way the named parties can access any of the city funds is if they have a Bioware chip. Sergei never got one.”

  Portland went red and swore. “That bloody shark. If he wasn’t already dead, I would hunt him down and cut out his thieving heart.”

  He ranted for a while longer and eventually calmed down. “They gave the chip to Hauser to take out to Sergei. In the early days most of us never left the city. Hauser still had his wind farm, after all, and he said he would make sure Sergei got his share. He must have gotten a
conscience as he never touched the money. You see, I’m on the treasurer’s board. I would know if he had touched Sergei’s share.”

  Portland ran a hand over his head. “That bloody bastard.”

  Warren added, “Well, we can now fix that.”

  Portland said, “When the city realised Sergei wasn’t using his money, they used it in an investment. The money isn’t available at the moment. But what I can do is make sure Sergei gets his chip.”

  Natasha smiled and defused the situation a little more. “Don’t worry too much. I’ll get Hal to put it into me. I have one already. Dad hates that kind of stuff, anyway.”

  Portland said, “Hal?”

  Warren chuckled. “Halcyon MacDonald is living in the city. She has really done some amazing things with Bioware.”

  Natasha elbowed Warren. They didn’t want anyone at the University to know about the atramento. He oofed and frowned at her. But he changed the subject, anyway. “She is more than capable of changing the chip in Natasha to one which reads as Sergei’s.”

  Portland snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that for a moment. She put in over half of the people on the Hill and they don’t even know it. She only charged half what the doctors usually charge, so we hired her instead.”

  Natasha gaped. “She was only a child.”

  Portland said, “With brains. She certainly knew her trade. What is she up to now? I think everyone on the Hill thought she died from cancer.”

  Warren answered, “She found a cure and is working in the city.”

  He pulled out a memory card and said, “You still friends with that guy on the doctoral committee?”

  Portland looked confused. He took the memory card.

  Cautiously he said, “Yeah. Is this someone’s application?”

  Warren said, “She doesn’t know I’m entering it, but Hal wrote it years ago. She couldn’t enter it as her name is black after her parents’ crime.”

  Portland snorted. “I think I’ll make sure they don’t know the name until they have made their decision. That girl deserves it. Her parents were completely useless as parents and even worse as Deans.”

  “I knew I could count on you,” Warren added.

  Portland guided them out again of the Charter building.

  Chapter Eight

  Whatinga April, 2087

  Once they were outside, Natasha slipped her arm around Warren’s waist. She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder and said softly, “Thank you for all of that. It means something to me that you would make sure my dad got what he deserved.”

  Warren liked walking with her close as they wandered through the roses. He looked down at her and thought she was even more beautiful than any rose he had ever seen.

  He was about to say something when something hit him in the chest hard. Hot pain slid over his chest and then over his shoulder. He was thrown off his feet by surprise more than the force of whatever hit him. He landed behind some rose bushes.

  Warren tried to stand, but Natasha pushed him down. “Stay down. There is a shooter out there.”

  Natasha then slunk away crouched behind the roses. He watched her as he worried the shooter would turn their attention to her.

  Warren held a hand to the graze on his shoulder. His chest ached, though, where the bullet had first impacted. He touched the hole in his shirt where the bullet had hit him. There was another hole in his shirt over the shoulder where the bullet had exited.

  Natasha came back and stooped next to him and growled softly. “The bastard got away. Are you all right?”

  He stared at her and how calm she was.

  “I was shot in the chest.” His voice sounded strange in his ears.

  She moved his hand away from the wound. “It is just a graze.”

  “No, I swear they shot me in the chest. It aches still where it hit.” He fingered the hole in his shirt to demonstrate he wasn’t exaggerating.

  She raised an eyebrow. “We did speculate that the atramento would make us bullet proof.”

  His voice rose sharply as he demanded, “Why the heck didn’t you tell me the darn atramento made me bloody darn gone bulletproof?”

  He knew he sounded a little hysterical, but he was seriously freaking out. He had thought he was dead. That bullet had hit and he thought there was no way he would come back from that.

  Natasha brushed it all off. “Well, we haven’t done any tests yet. We thought it was a possibility as Misha has managed to flick off a moving truck, and if you take into consideration, the relationship between mass and velocity and convert it to a smaller mass with a higher velocity, we thought bullets might bounce. But we don’t advertise as we weren’t sure. Not until we had run tests and we weren’t quite sure how to do that safely.”

  Warren caught her arm. “You could have told me the theories. I thought I was bringing you here to get shot or killed and now you tell me bullets are not really a concern.”

  Natasha frowned at him as his voice had risen at the end. “I don’t know why you are angry. I did tell you the atramento would protect me. Harold told you the atramento would protect me. Hal also. Why couldn’t you just believe us?”

  She went to stand and move away from him and he knew if she pulled away it would break him into small little pieces.

  He caught her arm. “I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes. I don’t think I’ve been this afraid in my whole life.”

  Natasha settled back and his heart eased. She dug out a cloth from a pocket and held it to the graze.

  Natasha said in a soft voice, “Your family isn’t protected, though. We really shouldn’t go back to your dad’s place.”

  The blood left his head as he thought about taking this danger back to his family. “I have a small apartment close by. We can go there.”

  He put his hand over hers as it held the cloth to his wound. He needed that connection to her.

  ___

  The apartment had that closed up feel. Natasha moved like a dust devil through the place, opening windows and emptying out the rubbish bin.

  She turned back to him when she finished.

  She was wound tight as it had hit her hard in her chest when he had gone down. For a while she had thought he might be dead and the atramento had failed for some unknown reason.

  In the calmest voice she could manage she said, “We should see to that wound.”

  He waved off her concern. “It has stopped bleeding.”

  To prove it, he moved the cloth away. He was right. It had stopped bleeding.

  Warren approached her and caught her wrists. He held them lightly in his grasp as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me the atramento were that powerful?”

  Natasha shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about this. She had come close to losing him and all because she hadn’t been paying attention.

  She should have heard the gunman. Her senses were strong enough for that. Or maybe seen something with her sight. It had worked in strange ways before to save him. Why hadn’t it warned her this time?

  Like right now, she couldn’t tell anything about his mood from his aura. Smooth as a pebble and she couldn’t tell anything. He buried all his real emotions under that shell. She took a deep breath. She knew why it didn’t work now. Her own aura was all over the place and therefore not feeding any energy into the atramento. She had to calm down if she wanted to use her sight.

  Natasha only marginally managed to calm herself. Eventually she gave up on trying and shrugged. “It isn’t really important, Warren. You are alive and everything is fine.”

  He growled. “Everything is not fine. What if someone who wasn’t us got hold of these atramento? They could go on a rampage through the city. Have you thought about what this could mean?”

  She pulled free of his touch. “Yes. Well, Misha and Hal have. But it doesn’t matter. Your aura and chi have to flow right for it to power the atramento in the first place. If you place a atramento on someone with the wrong chi flows it disrupts the flow and they go crazy. And people who
tend to go on bloody rampages are not the kind to have copasetic chi flows needed to have the kind of power we do.”

  When he didn’t look convinced, she pointed to her eyes. “I can see it, Warren. The flow of your aura, the way it interacts with things around it and how it interrelates in a body. I saw what it can do to the wrong person. But that isn’t why you are angry. What is the real problem?”

  He sighed and paced the room. She had never seen him this agitated. He was usually a very calm person. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “I thought I was dead. I think I’m still freaking out from that.”

  He let out a long breath and turned to her. “I also thought you could be dead. That once I was dead, I wouldn’t be able to protect you and it slayed me. I think I love you and I don’t quite know what to do about all of it.”

  His aura flashed pink as he spoke and then settled back to the shell which hid his emotions. She knew what he meant. It was all complicated and she had avoided thinking about it all.

  “It can’t last you know,” Natasha said softly.

  Warren came up to her, this time much more cautiously, like he was afraid she would bolt if he moved too quickly.

  “I can’t think of the future, right now. But what about now? Can it be something right now?” He almost begged.

  She let out a sigh of relief. She wanted so much more, but she had also wanted whatever she could get.

  She licked her lips and said in a very soft voice, “Yeah, it can certainly be something now. But only for now.”

  Natasha expected him to move faster now that she had agreed. Instead, he slowly moved to lightly touch her cheek. His eyes followed his fingers as they drifted to catch a curl of her hair.

  His voice when he spoke was deep with emotion. “You really are like a rose.”

  She blushed. “I’m not a girly girl like that, Warren. I work for a living. I couldn’t keep a manicure even if I wanted to.”

  Warren smiled faintly. “What would be the point? I never notice manicures anyway.”

 

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