Jaguar

by C. A. Gray

  “What?” I gasped. “Why don’t you lead with that!”

  Francis chuckled a little, and I realized, incredulously, that he was actually teasing me. So the news must be good, then. My knees buckled, and I sank into a chair opposite him.

  “Well, I can tell you don’t actually care what he had to say, so…”

  “Francis.”

  He snickered again. “He’s fine. At least so far. He saw our video already and wanted to know how we are.”

  “What did you tell him?” I asked, breathless.

  “I told him about Jake and Julie.”

  The lump sprang back into my throat. I nodded, blinking fast and staring at the tabletop. “Right.”

  “And I told him the rest of us made it out okay. I also told him not to go to General Specs yet, but to wait for us, because you and I would be coming to help.”

  “You said what?” I slammed my hand down on the tabletop. “Francis! What were you thinking?”

  “If you mean, ‘won’t M read the message and freak out,’ I encrypted the correspondence on our end and changed the date stamp, so she’ll think it’s a conversation from the previous compound—”

  “You of all people should know that that will have the opposite effect!” I wailed furiously. “He’ll charge in recklessly to keep us from getting involved!”

  Francis shook his head, unperturbed. “Of course I anticipated that, so I also told him we’re coming no matter what he says, and that it’ll be much harder for us to break him out of prison than to keep him from getting thrown in there in the first place. He loses his head when it comes to you, but he’s logical enough to understand that much.”

  I sagged in the chair, sinking my head into my hands with a moan. “You are a moron!”

  Francis bristled. “Perhaps we haven’t worked out all the details yet, but if I didn’t say something, he’d go first thing in the morning!”

  “And he will for sure, now!” I burst out, shoving the chair back from the table and pacing out my frustration. “Besides, how the heck are we supposed to get there? There’s no Quantum Track to this island—there’s nothing to this island!”

  “Which is kind of the whole reason M picked it,” Francis pointed out. “She sent a message to Nilesh and Rick to come here by boat, because those can’t be tracked easily, so…”

  I guessed what he meant, but shook my head. “Even if we could commandeer and steer a boat across the freaking Atlantic, that would take like two weeks! And time is of the essence—you said yourself that Liam talking to his dad is our best hope. Even if he was willing to wait for us, he can’t afford to wait that long! And we can’t take the hovercraft—obviously Mom won’t allow that. And I don’t see how we could take it without her knowledge…”

  “Or,” said Francis with an exaggerated drawl, “The boat the Commune members used to supply us is still on the docks. We could take it to Great Exuma—there’s a Quantum Track station there.”

  I looked up hopefully. “Does it go to London?”

  “Every Quantum Track goes to London,” Francis replied, his expression briefly smug. “But, there will be facial recognition cameras on the Quantum Tracks.”

  “So what? We’ll use your LED glasses, right?”

  “I guess we’ll have to, if we go that route,” Francis sighed, “but if I were one of the Silver Six, I’d have written a program for the cameras to set off an alert when they detect a person whose face is obscured by bright lights. We’ve used them enough by now that they should have realized that’s our strategy. I’d rather stay away from the cameras altogether.”

  “But the only forms of transportation that don’t involve cameras are—”

  “Such old technology that it won’t actually solve our problem, I know,” Francis sighed.

  “So what do we do, then? …What are you doing?”

  Francis had opened his netscreen again, and was scrolling. “Hmm?” he said absently. “Oh, pulling up the chat history with Kyle for the VMI instructions. In case someone comes in to check on our progress, I figure we should have something to show for ourselves.”

  Reluctantly, I crossed the room to where the manufacturing printer sat. It was too heavy for me to carry, so I scooted it across the floor to sit beside the table, seating myself cross-legged before it and waiting for further instructions. Once Francis found them, he twisted the netscreen so that I could see it, and I drilled down into them so I could see the codes Liam had programmed into the manufacturing printer the last time we’d done this.

  “What we need,” Francis mused, leaning forward onto his knees now, “is a way to communicate with Liam Senior directly.”

  I snorted. “Oh, is that all.”

  “I can hack in and find his private secretary like I did for Halpert’s,” Francis went on, not hearing me, “but I doubt that will be good enough. If it was, Liam would have done it himself, instead of going on this suicide mission.” He looked up sharply at the door. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” I asked, my heart thrumming.

  “Someone is eavesdropping,” he declared, standing and striding purposefully to the door.

  I heard it now: the creak creak creak of quickly retreating steps, but Francis was too quick. He flung the door open, to reveal Val, her expression a strange combination of trapped and defiant.

  “I’m coming too!” she blurted, puffing up her chest like she was trying to make herself seem bigger.

  Francis slammed the door in her face.

  “Francis!” I chided, jumping to my feet and running to the door.

  “You don’t want to do this…” he warned. But I ignored him, opening the door again.

  Val hadn’t yet moved, but her expression looked crushed. She reminded me of a child, or maybe of a baby animal.

  “You’re going to rescue Liam?” she squeaked.

  “Is that what you think you heard?” I hedged, darting a look in Francis’s direction.

  “I did hear it. And I’m coming too!” Val declared again.

  “No you’re not,” I said as calmly as I could, “this is going to be dangerous.”

  “I love him too!” she snapped, her eyes narrowing at me. “If you don’t let me come, I’ll—tell M what you’re planning!”

  Francis rolled his head up, gazing at the thatched ceiling in undisguised exasperation. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “What?” Val whirled on him. “Why don’t I have every bit as much right to go after Liam as you do? If not more?”

  “Because you’re useless,” Francis leveled her with his gaze. “You completely decompensate under pressure. You’d be a pure liability to us.”

  There was that crushed expression again. Val’s large hazel eyes grew even wider, filling with ready tears.

  “Francis!” I snapped at him, crossing to my new friend instinctively. “Remember that whole ‘empathy’ thing that sets humans apart from robots? Weren’t you going to try to practice that?”

  He shrugged. “I’m honest. It’s who I am. I can’t help it.”

  “Neuroplasticity would argue that you can change your brain if you want to,” I retorted.

  “Oh come on, as if you want her with us!” Francis shot back. “She’s your rival, for crying out loud!”

  I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. When I opened them again, I wrapped a hand around Val’s wrist.

  “Come on,” I said, shooting a glare in Francis’s direction. “Let’s go back to our cabin.”

  “You’re supposed to be building a VMI machine!” Francis reminded me, annoyed.

  “Well, you can get a head start on that while I’m gone! It’s just following the directions, anyway.”

  He snorted, and I knew what it meant: straightforward was such a waste of his talents.

  Despite the fact that the sky had just begun to turn pink with dusk, sweat rolled down the slope of my back within minutes of leaving the cabin.

  “The
re’s a strategy to dealing with Francis, you know,” I told Val. “Tears to Francis are like blood to sharks. Show any vulnerability, and he’ll despise you. Act like you don’t care what he thinks, and he’ll respect you more.”

  Val glanced at me, still looking wounded, and shrugged. “I’m not like you, Rebecca. I’m not smart like you, or tough, or quick-witted. And I’m okay with that!” she added quickly, just as I opened my mouth to lavish her with baited praise. “I am who I am. I can’t change just to suit Francis.”

  Or Liam. The addition to that phrase was so clear in my mind that it was almost as if she’d said it out loud.

  We climbed the wooden steps up to our stilted cabin, where at least it was shaded, though it wasn’t a whole lot cooler inside. I pulled back Val’s makeshift drapes and opened the windows for a little air circulation.

  “I’m not telling you to change,” I insisted. “Just… have a thicker skin with him, that’s all. If you just assume he’s going to be rude and nasty, it becomes kind of a game, because you’re waiting for it. It doesn’t feel personal anymore.”

  “Thanks so much for that tip,” she muttered.

  I cast a surprised glance in her direction. “Was that—sarcasm? From you?”

  She laughed—a staccato, affronted sound. “I couldn’t have dated Liam Kelly for as long as I did without at least understanding sarcasm,” she said, “and by the way, he’s always had friends with no social skills like Francis, just never as extreme as him before. I have plenty of experience with people like him, thank you very much.”

  “Huh,” I said, remembering that Liam had told Francis that he was one of his best friends. It was hard to believe that anybody could see Francis that way. But Liam cared about him, and Larissa adored him… so at least they both saw past his superficial layer of rudeness and arrogance.

  Plus, he’d helped me. He was still helping me. Ever since I’d seen those tears in his eyes when I didn’t catch Liam in time, I’d kind of felt a little fondness towards him myself.

  Val poured us both glasses of water, which was the only thing we had in our little mini fridge besides orange juice. Apparently that’s all the Commune members had supplied in the brief time they’d had between when we’d vacated our last residence and when we arrived here.

  “Fair enough—maybe you do have more experience with Liam’s friends than I do. But please,” I fixed her with the most pleading gaze I could muster, the kind that would have had a theater audience eating out of my hand. “Please don’t tell Mom about our mission to rescue Liam, or she’ll keep me under lock and key, and we’ll never be able to leave! You want us to help Liam, right?”

  Val narrowed her eyes at me. “Yes, of course I do. But I will be in on it. You might be brilliant where I’m just ordinary, but that won’t matter on a mission like this. It’s not about brains, it’s about bravery. And I know you don’t think I have that either,” she held up a hand, as if I’d been just about to say exactly that, “but bravery comes down to wanting something more than you want your own safety, right?”

  I blinked at her, astonished. “I… guess so.”

  “Well, then, you and I have that in common.” She pursed her lips, and looked out at the water in the rapidly approaching dusk. “That little video I did on the hovercraft clarified for me that I have nothing left to go back to, anyway. No career, no family or friends I can ever hope to be reunited with, and therefore no identity really, outside of this quickly shrinking group. And in this group, all I can do that’s useful is cook!” She gave a short, rueful laugh. “But the man I’ve loved for years is still out there. Maybe he doesn’t love me back, but that doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and I need a purpose. So, his purpose can be mine.” She shrugged, and met my eyes with a steady gaze.

  “Well,” I said at last, feeling a little overwhelmed and insignificant. Francis would just have to forgive me. “Ah—welcome aboard. I guess.”

  Chapter 5: Rebecca

  Once Val and I had reached an uneasy truce—essentially because I gave in, though I’m not at all sure that’s what I should have done—I went back to help Francis finish the VMI assembly while Val went to the kitchen to do what she could for dinner. When I told Francis the outcome of the conversation, he was not pleased. But considering Val’s threat to tell Mom what we were planning if we didn’t let her come along, I didn’t see that we had much choice.

  “She’s bluffing. Obviously,” Francis scoffed at me. “What matters to her most is saving Liam. She wouldn’t compromise that just to spite us.”

  I stopped to peer over Francis’s shoulder to read the next steps in the assembly, my eyelids beginning to feel very heavy. “You know,” I pointed out, “the whole reason you said it had to be me going to get Liam was because I wouldn’t give up.” I glanced at him. “By that logic, she should be there too.”

  “Well, okay, but you at least have a modicum of survival skills,” he muttered, tightening a screw in place with a screwdriver he’d printed. “You and I might die, but at least we won’t be easy targets. Taking Val, on the other hand, is basically like bringing a decoy.”

  I looked up, surprised. “So… it’s not that you think she’ll interfere with our mission. You’re actually worried about her?”

  Francis glanced up at me, and said without inflection, “I do have a heart, even if it’s a small one.”

  The corners of my mouth curled upward. “It’ll get bigger, the more you use it,” I assured him.

  “Thank you, Ms. Neuroscientist.”

  I shrugged. “Like I said. Neuroplasticity. Anyway, I don’t envision Val doing anything other than staying with the getaway vehicle, whatever that turns out to be, while we go help Liam. We’ll do all the hard stuff.”

  A little electric bell buzzed, and an intercom I hadn’t realized was there crackled to life. “Dinner’s ready, such as it is!” Val’s voice chirped, interspersed with static. Then it went dead again.

  “Good. My brain’s shutting down.” I wiped condensed humidity from my brow. “I don’t know how much more I’ve got in me. I’ll need some coffee after dinner if I’m gonna keep going.”

  Val had arranged cold cuts and raw fruits and veggies on a couple of platters in surprisingly decorative fashion. She even spread them out on a lettuce leaf, garnishing them with tropical flowers.

  “Wow,” Dr. Yin commented, eyebrows raised. I knew Dr. Yin well enough to understand the subtext of that comment—you really thought all this was necessary? But Val took it as a compliment and glowed.

  “Thank you,” she said demurely. Sweet Val. I felt a pang as I thought of Francis’s pronouncement. Taking Val is basically like bringing a decoy.

  “You should see the drapes in our cabin,” I added aloud to Dr. Yin, who cough-laughed.

  “Drapes? Really?” she spluttered.

  Val correctly understood now that she was being made fun of, and frowned. “Beauty is soothing!” she said defensively. “I just thought after the experience we all had today, we could use as much of it as we can get!”

  That sobered us all, and Dr. Yin backpedaled. “You’re right. This looks lovely, Val. Thank you.”

  She stood a little straighter. “You’re welcome.”

  “Along those lines,” said Giovanni, holding up his water glass. “To Jake and Julie.”

  A lump instantly materialized in my throat—I’d successfully managed to smother my grief in busyness for the last few hours, but it was right there waiting for me, just beneath the surface.

  Everyone else raised their glasses and echoed, “To Jake and Julie.” But I said nothing, staring fixedly at the surface of the water until I could trust myself to move.

  Just when I thought I’d breathed through it and it might be safe, Giovanni added, “And to Liam, who bravely sacrificed himself for our cause.”

  “To Liam,” everyone else chorused back. Everyone but me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  I felt a hand on my back, and knew at once f
rom the feel of her touch that it was Mom.

  “Rebecca.”

  I sucked in a noisy breath through my nostrils and shook my head, trying to communicate that I couldn’t talk right now or I’d burst into tears. And I was done with tears today.

  “Rebecca,” she said again, insistent. “Honey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have suspected you without cause. Forgive me?”

  Hot guilt pooled in the pit of my stomach at this. I’d been right: Mack had told her the contents of Liam’s letter. She thought I believed he’d rejected me, so she no longer suspected me of contriving a rescue operation. It was what I wanted—what I needed—but it was a lie. And not so very long ago, Mom and I had a strict policy of not lying to one another.

  That was before I’d found out she’d been lying to me pretty much my whole life.

  “Sure,” I said when I could trust my voice, and Mom pulled me in to a hug.

  “Are you doing okay?” she asked me. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

  I shook my head. “I just want to stay busy,” I told her. “Keeps me from thinking too much.”

  She nodded sympathetically. I knew she’d get this. It was how she operated, too. “I understand.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze, and attempted to make her voice sound more positive as she added, “I’m glad to see that you and Mack are getting along so well, though. You like him?”

  I almost laughed. Of all the things Mom could be thinking about right now. But I answered truthfully, “I like him a lot, Mom. He seems like a great guy.”

  “He is a great guy,” she assured me, “and he’s so protective of you, you’d think you were his own.” She bit her lip and searched my eyes, as if weighing her next words. “I know it’s hard to believe this right now, especially with everything that’s going on. But… you’ll find someone too, Rebecca.”