by Wren Weston
And now?
“Now what?”
Tristan.
“He’s trying too hard. He sends me all these messages, wants me to come over constantly, tells me that he misses me all the time. It’s too much.”
Workborns don’t hold back. Workborns find one person they like and latch on. They keep them close. He almost lost you last week. Twice. He’s still upset about it.
“I know.”
No, you don’t. He’s holding himself back a great deal, and he’s having to try for both of you. That’s not fair.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
That’s not good enough. He’s my brother, and he deserves to be happy. You do too.
Lila cocked her head. “People don’t make other people happy, Dixon. You can only do that for yourself.”
What a bunch of highborn twaddle! Dixon smacked her in the head with his notepad.
Lila rubbed her skull. “Very mature.”
Love makes fools of us all, Lila. At least the workborn admit it.
“What did you regret?”
He doodled on the side of his page, and Lila thought he might not answer. I thought Reaper would get away with it. I thought you and Tristan might never get together if I wasn’t around to help. He grinned smugly like a gloating, self-satisfied fairy godmother. I thought I’d never have a chance to fall in love for real, like the workborns, or have kids. I thought I would die without paying back the ones who hurt me.
“Who hurt you?”
He looked at her face for a very long time, but it was obvious she hadn’t earned the truth yet, or perhaps he just wasn’t ready for her to know.
Lila put her head on his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Dixon. I’ll ask again another time.”
He nodded, put his arm around her, then leaned back into the couch.
The pair stayed like that for a while, Dixon’s quiet way calming her mind, slowing her rambling thoughts.
Lila wasn’t sure when it happened, but Dixon’s arm grew heavy around her shoulders, and she began to doze. She tried to fight it, but she hadn’t had much sleep in over a week, and Dixon’s slow breathing cut through her resolve.
A click woke her up.
The click of a gun.
Lila’s eyes snapped open. One hand went to her Colt. She’d drawn it and aimed before she even realized it was Tristan.
Holding his palm.
“Jumpy, aren’t we?” He scrolled through the device. “Could you point that somewhere else?”
Dixon rubbed at his eyes and gently pushed her tranq gun away from his brother’s neck.
“What are you doing?” Lila slid her Colt back in its holster.
“What do you think? I couldn’t resist taking a picture. You were both so cute with the drool and the—”
Dixon wiped his mouth. Finding nothing, he cuffed his brother on the chin.
Tristan hopped back, startled.
The brothers smiled at one another.
“Frank and I combed Natalie’s place,” Tristan said, putting his palm away. “We didn’t find anything new.”
“It was worth a try.”
“Toxic says thanks for sending Natalie’s decryption codes for the palms. She also wanted me to tell you about some game she found on them. She put it on a spare and ran it, just to see what it would do.” Tristan pulled out the device from his pocket and tapped on the screen, handing it over at last. “She said the code was really weird.”
Lila studied the screen, recognizing the alien game at a glance. “Yeah, I saw it. It likely carries a virus. She should be more care—”
“It’s a spare palm off our network. She knows what she’s doing.”
“Fine. Did she play it?”
“She tried, but she said it plays like a broken demo. The aliens fall to the center of the screen, but then they get stuck and the screen flickers. It frustrated her, so she looked into the code.”
Lila started the game up again. “Did Toxic tell you anything besides the code is really weird?”
“She said it’s trying to communicate with something.”
“Of course it’s trying to communicate with something. It’s sending your passwords and accounts to a server halfway across the globe.”
Tristan scratched his chin. “Why would Natalie have that on her palm, then? She’s smarter than that.”
Lila’s lips twitched. She had to admit, it was strange. She woke up her laptop, pulled up the palm data from her files, then ran her snoop programs on the game. When a light flashed red on her screen, she wasn’t surprised. “Yep. Virus.”
Dixon held up his notepad. How do you keep viruses off WolfNet?
Lila and Tristan shared a confused look over Dixon’s sudden interest.
“My security programs look for the sending code,” Lila said, directing her words to both men now. “If we spot the program trying to send or receive anything but scores or game-related files, we don’t allow the download. Reputable game-making families have adopted a standard format for that code. A similar and much more complicated format applies for MMOs and MOBAs.”
“Moe-who?”
“Online games where players fight each other or NPCs.”
“NP-whats?”
“You never ask me about specifics when we have technical discussions, but as soon as I say games, you suddenly have a burning desire to learn?”
Tristan shrugged.
“Reputable game makers like the Massons follow certain protocols. No one would trust their games otherwise, and it would hurt their bottom line. It’s a tentative truce,” Lila explained. “No one in the industry can use that code unless they’ve paid the licensing fee. If the matrons find someone else using the code without permission, the game makers find them, tranq them, and shove them before Bullstow’s gate, bleeding from the chest with a note carved into their skin. You don’t screw with these people.”
Tristan gulped. “The Massons? Really?”
“This game,” Lila said, holding up the spare. “It isn’t using the standard code. It’s either an illegal game or a virus. Given the fact that the game doesn’t even work, then it’s a virus. Natalie couldn’t have downloaded it on any highborn network, that’s for sure. Her snoop programs should have caught it as well. That means she must have deactivated them at some point and forgotten to turn them back on. So how’s that for clever?”
“The game was on all three palms.”
Lila had forgotten about that. She opened the data for all three palms, noting that none of the file sizes seemed to match. She quickly typed in a command to compare the contents of the files. “Hmmm…”
“What?”
“The other two copies didn’t finish downloading.”
“But the one in Natalie’s bag did?”
“Yes.”
“So what does that tell us?”
“That the devs need to get their shit together before the alpha, or they’ll go bankrupt?”
“Alpha what?”
Lila peeked over her laptop. “Seriously, Tristan, play a damn game once in a while.”
Dixon grinned, the corner of his mouth twisting upward slightly.
Lila shared his smile. “Did you find anything that might shed some light on Oskar or the girls or their whereabouts?”
“Nothing. Nada. Zilch.”
Lila drummed her fingers on her laptop, then broke into Bullstow’s files, scanning Natalie’s case file for any updates. “They haven’t discovered the tracers in Natalie’s system. They probably won’t if they haven’t already. They haven’t found much of anything else, either. They haven’t even bothered looking deeper into the game.”
“Toxic will get a kick out of that.”
Lila considered telling him about Teresa Bailey and the brothels, but she wasn’t sure what impulsive thing
he might suggest. But when she glanced up at his face, she remembered her thoughts from that morning. She needed to give him a break.
Besides, a fresh mind might help.
Two minds, since Dixon seemed to be paying attention to their conversation now.
“I do have a couple of leads. I’m not sure they’ll come to anything, though.”
Tristan sat across from her on the coffee table as she explained why she couldn’t just message Shaw about the brothels or Teresa Bailey. Telling the chief about one brothel might drive the rest underground. A simultaneous raid would be the only way to procure the safety of all the children, and she had to be sure that she’d found them all first. And Teresa couldn’t be approached without Shaw being tipped off during questioning.
“I understand about the brothels. I hate it, but you’re right. I don’t understand your reasoning for Teresa, though. My people and I could talk to her.”
“If you go near her, Chief Shaw will know I sent you.”
“Because you’re the only hacker in all the land who could find Teresa?” Tristan pulled out his palm and tapped on the screen. “I’m sending Fry and Dice to find her.”
“Tristan…”
“We already missed Oskar once,” he pointed out, his fingers pausing. “Do you want to miss him again because you’re too busy trying to be sneaky and covering your ass? Bullstow might not even figure out Teresa is involved.”
“They’re slow, but they aren’t inept, not with someone like Natalie.”
“You’d rather keep your nose clean than save Oskar? I thought you were different.”
Lila bit the insides of her cheeks, annoyed by how much his censure cut. “Don’t forget why we didn’t save Oskar at the auction house.”
“Maybe it wasn’t smart, but I was trying to help a child. What’s your excuse?”
Dixon whistled and shook his head at both of them. Stop being assholes. Lila has a point about Shaw.
Tristan hopped off his perch on the coffee table, tapping on his palm. “Fine. We’ll tail Teresa for now. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she’ll meet her German contacts. She might lead us straight to Oskar.”
“We should be so lucky.”
“Dixon, any other ideas?” When his brother shook his head, Tristan resumed his typing. “Give me the list, Lila. My people can check them out, narrow down the brothels from her other businesses.”
Lila clasped her palm more tightly.
Tristan looked up. “Lila, give me the list. I assure you, my people can be trusted.”
“I don’t even know your people.”
“You know me. Isn’t that enough for you? We’re talking about kids here. They need to be rescued as soon as possible. We can sort out the list and take it to Shaw ourselves. If you’re worried about him knowing where it came from, I assure you, I can come up with something that doesn’t involve you.”
“I don’t even know if I have all the addresses yet.”
“Bullshit. If that’s what you have, then it’s complete. I’d bet—”
“You’d bet? I wouldn’t. Like you said, these are kids. I’m not perfect, Tristan. What if I don’t have them all? What if I don’t have one on my list, and they go deeper? What if they’ve moved all the kids already, and this just tips them off? What—”
“What if you give me the list, and we save most of them? What if my people and I spend the next six months trailing every pervert and pedophile in the city to see where they go for their next fix?” Tristan raked his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, Lila. Natalie was taking workborn. Most of them slaves. It’s not your call. What do you think we do all day when you’re not here? Fix cars and eat Chinese food? Give me the damn list.”
It wasn’t even a request this time. It was an order.
Dixon held up his notepad. Give it to us, Lila. We’ll help. This is what we do.
She looked back and forth between both men, chewing her lip. Reluctantly, she scribbled down the list on Dixon’s notepad, not wanting to leave an electronic trail.
While Tristan sent out messages to his people, Lila pulled up a new file sent from Chief Vance to Shaw. As she had suspected, a large dose of sleeping medication had been found in the hot chocolate.
Her palm vibrated in her pocket, and Lila stared at the message, wide-eyed.
Captain Regina Randolph had finished testing the hot chocolate, confirming Vance’s findings.
She’d also found tracers in the tea.
Chapter 23
“Guan will be over in thirty minutes.” Tristan shoved his palm into his pocket and sat in the oversized chair, far from Lila.
Lila put the menu back on the coffee table and slipped off her boots, leaving her socks on, overly conscious now about her feet and toes around Tristan. “I didn’t know the Plum Luck Dragon delivered.”
“Madam Chen started a couple of weeks ago, just for us. She said we were her best customers.”
Dixon grinned a little and scribbled on his notepad. You flirt with a woman once.
“You didn’t?” Lila scoffed.
She’s hot.
“She’s fifty. She’s old enough to be your mother.”
If my mother looked that hot, I would flirt with her too.
Tristan and Lila exchanged a glance. On one hand, they were both happy he’d begun joking a little again. On the other…
“You’re such a perv sometimes.” Lila snorted as her palm vibrated. Director Randolph had received the second tracer sample from the captain. The extra quantity will help our research. We understand it will be the last you can procure.
“Who’s that?”
“Sutton.” Lila shifted in her seat. Giving the tracer to her family’s R&D department had been automatic. You found an edge, you found a way to increase your family’s profits, and you did it.
She’d begun to have second thoughts, though. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for the families to have access to such technology. She already tested her room and car for bugs, an act that seemed as mundane as brushing her teeth, taking a shower, or cleaning her Colt. Smart highborns checked for bugs; idiots forgot. It only took once to expose yourself or your family.
Tristan had been shocked and appalled by the need, especially in her own bedroom.
If the director’s team succeeded, the highborn would have to test their food the same way they tested for bugs. Everything they ate or drank would be screened by snoop programs. You’d open yourself up for attack if you did not. A whole new branch of etiquette would evolve around dinner. Perhaps they’d invent watches that could scan your food surreptitiously, or perhaps everyone would scan in front of everyone else and damn the hurt feelings.
That hadn’t been the only reason why she’d given the samples to her people, though. The Allied Lands needed a reliable test for tracers, a counter to them, what with the German incursions and—
Lila thumbed her palm absently. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been thinking of the empire, and now she’d started something she couldn’t take back.
Perhaps it didn’t matter, though. The samples had a very short half-life, and the tracers were only half the technology. If the director’s team couldn’t figure out how the Germans tracked their targets, then all the tracers in the world would be useless.
Lila wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Tell us about Rebecca, Dixon wrote, interrupting her thoughts. There were tracers?
“Yes.” Lila told the two men everything she had found in Sioux Falls, even pulling up Shaw’s report so they could scan through it. “It makes no sense that these cases should be connected. The Germans shouldn’t be interested in nabbing oracles, and whoever is nabbing oracles shouldn’t be interested in Oskar.”
“Yes, but tracers have been found at both scenes, and only the empire uses tracers. We can only conclude that the culprits want b
oth targets. The cases are connected whether we want them to be or not. Perhaps we can worry about their motives later.”
“Motives predict behavior. If we can figure out why they’d snatch oracles, we can figure out if they’ll take more. They shouldn’t be interested. They think the women are con artists.”
“Perhaps King Lucas asked his men to find out if that’s true. I can’t see any German aristocrats giving a damn about them, and they’re the only other ones in the country who could afford mercs.”
Dixon sniffed the air suddenly, pointed to his mouth, and left the room.
“Guan must be here. Dixon pretends he can’t hear me when I ask him to switch off the heater, but if there’s food coming, he can hear the shop door from a kilometer away.”
“He’s barely moved for food in over a week,” Lila said, unable to suppress a hopeful grin. “He wouldn’t go down and get it unless he’s hungry.”
“I see that.” Tristan slid beside her on the couch and caressed her cheek, his skin warm and soft against her cheek. “Thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do anything but talk to him, which is what you should do as well. Stop avoiding him. He needs his brother.”
“Thank you all the same.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close and tight. She tasted whiskey in his kiss, both of them hungry after a night cut short.
When the door opened, Tristan dropped his arms.
The floor received yet another guilty look.
While they ate, the group speculated at length about possible motives for King Lucas taking the oracles. Motives ranged from the reasonable (to destabilize the oracles) to the downright insane (to create an army of child oracles).
Complete with laser beams and jet packs.
Unfortunately, the longer they thought about it, the less insane it seemed. Not the lasers and jet packs, but the idea of their enemy collecting oracles, especially young oracles who might be coopted. Such a thing had happened once or twice in the past, a traitorous oracle defecting and going over to the enemy. That problem had been solved by sending assassins. Oracles never had visions about themselves. They never saw it coming.
