by Megan Hart
“Nice to meetcha,” Al said.
Katrinka’s perfectly glossed lips curled into a smile, but only for a second before she was looking determined again. “Any friend of Nina’s . . . but Nina, darling, it’s time for your speech. We really need to get you up there.”
“See ya later,” Al said.
Nina had stood in front of many groups of people, giving speeches on the subject of the enhancement surgeries and how they’d changed her life. She’d presented her opinions about the necessity of upgrades, the ways to counteract hacking and more. She’d never been as prominent or well-known a supporter of the tech as Ewan had been a detractor, but she’d done her share in the past to make her voice known
Why, then did she feel so uncertain, now?
Nina took a deep breath, checking automatically for any signs of new memory loss or other distress. She remembered what she’d eaten for breakfast today; that was her touchstone, and it was still there. She didn’t want to be thinking of that now as she went up the stairs to the riser set up at the back of the room, careful not to trip on the hem of her dress and make a fool of herself in front of everyone.
Still, looking out at the crowd, it was impossible for her to put aside how it felt to forget.
“Hello, everyone,” Nina said aloud. “Thank you all so much for coming tonight in support of what to many of you must feel a bit like a weird dream.”
She waited for the crowd to settle and turn to her. Drinks in their hands. Some with smiles, others with blank expressions. Waiting for her to change their minds. Some of them willing, needing only a nudge. Others would need more than that, and she wasn’t sure she could do it, but she had to try.
“Several years ago, a revolutionary advance in tech saved my life. I’d been in combat.” Nina kept her voice strong and her gaze steady as she looked around the room, meeting the gaze of anyone she could. “I died in service to this country. A full eight minutes, or so they told me. I don’t remember it, and I’ve always found that to be a blessing. Nobody should have to recall the moment of their death.”
She cleared her throat. From the corner of her eye, Nina could see Katrinka trying hard to catch her attention. Nina didn’t give it to her. She knew what she was doing. She was speaking her truth, and if it was too harsh for some of these people, well . . . she had to do it. Money and support were important, but not if she felt compromised by it.
“I survived, solely due to the implantation and activation of that tech. It was experimental, but I’d signed an agreement before joining the army. Truthfully, I didn’t know when I signed it what would be done to me, but I can take the blame for that. I woke up in agony, bed-bound. But I woke up, and I will never regret that. There are some who believe the enhancement tech changed me into something different. Someone different. I can’t say that’s not true, to be honest.”
She paused, giving them time to murmur and shift, to make them a little uncomfortable. She looked out over the room to find Ewan, whom she’d barely talked to all night. He was front and center, a drink in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket. His gaze on hers. His smile, encouraging but serious.
“But then, doesn’t everything that happens to us change us into something new? If you’re lucky, you end up stronger. Better. A new and improved version of yourself.” She paused again to give her next word the maximum effect. “Enhanced.
“Ewan Donahue invented the enhancement tech to help his sister, Katie, who suffered early onset dementia. He meant for the tech to help her, and anyone else like her, to be able to hold onto their memories. Because memory is what makes us who we are, isn’t it? More than the way we laugh or how we look, or our political opinions or our favorite flavor of ice cream, it’s what we remember. It’s who we remember.”
She continued quickly, watching the crowd’s reactions. There were some nods, but also a lot of frowns. Side-talking and murmurs. She kept going, even when she saw some disgruntled faces.
“So many people think the enhancement tech is about forgetting,” Nina said quickly. “But it’s not. It’s for remembering. Yes, it’s true that the tech allows my short-term memories to be reset, but only in certain, specific, and mutually agreed upon cases. I signed up for the possibilities of experimental surgeries without understanding what that could mean for me, but I’ve never once been reset without knowing beforehand what it would be like and how it would affect my life . . . that is to say, not very much at all.”
Nina cleared her throat. “I’ve been asked many times if I knew what was going to happen to me, would I have agreed to the enhancement surgeries? Would I have allowed them to implant me with the tech? My answer to that is yes. Of course. Always. Should I have preferred death? Some of you would have thought so, even so recently as a few months ago. Some of you might still feel that way.”
Nina lifted her chin and looked out at everyone, catching eyes where she could. Pretending she was when she could not. The room had gone very quiet.
“I stand up here in front of you all, not to horrify you with all the ways I’m now different from you, but to show you that I could never regret the tech. What I ask of you is support. Understanding. When you look at me, what do you see?”
Predictably, the crowd murmured, but nobody shouted out.
“I was a soldier,” Nina said. “Now I’m not. The tech is still inside my head, though. It needs to be upgraded, the same way your viddy systems and personal comms need updates. If you think it’s frustrating to try to get online when your comm doesn’t have the latest operating system, think about how it feels to have that same thing going on in your head.”
She paused to let the crowd respond. Mostly chuckles. Nods. She kept going.
“Tonight is about good food. Good friends.” She gestured toward Katrinka, not that she really considered that woman a friend, but it looked good to the crowd. “Good drinks. But beyond that, it’s about learning. Growing. It’s about stretching your opinions, and I hope to be exactly the person to help you do that.”
* * *
“Hey, Mr. Donahue.”
Ewan turned, surprised to see Jordie there. The kid wasn’t wearing formal attire, and that would have made him seem out of place even if he wasn’t an unexpected guest. “What are you doing here?”
“My mom.” Jordie grinned and licked his lips quickly, his gaze cutting back and forth from Ewan to Nina speaking at the front of the room. “Hey, Mr. Donahue, do you think you could talk to me privately for a minute or two? I’m kind of having some problems. I hope you can help me out a little bit. Because you’re my mentor and all.”
The kid had been making an obvious attempt at keeping his voice down, but in the way of sugarheads, he wasn’t speaking very softly. Ewan took him by the elbow to lead him away from the group, not wanting Jordie to distract anyone from Nina’s speech. He glanced over his shoulder to see if he could catch her eye, but if she noticed him walking away, she wasn’t able to acknowledge it while she was speaking.
There was no good place to talk privately except out in the hall, which is where Ewan took him. He let go of Jordie’s sleeve and looked at the kid, concerned. “What’s going on?”
“I’m having some personal problems,” the kid said, but then nothing else.
Ewan frowned. “This isn’t really the place to talk about things like that, Jordie. Why don’t you give me a ping tomorrow when I’m at home? You could come by.”
Again, he thought, wondering why he’d offered. The kid was smart but weird, which was not the problem. He was also irritating and needy, which was.
“I know, I know.” Jordie held up his hands, self-deprecating but not convincingly. “This is a party, we should be having fun, not talking about my bad luck with the ladies. But when I saw you were here, I figured, hey, why not ask Mr. Donahue for some advice? I mean, he’s clearly a guy who’s got his business together, right? And I didn’t want to come by the house because, you know, it makes Ms. Bronson irritated. And we don’t need to be getting Ms. Bronson i
n a bad mood, am I right?”
“I really need to get back in there and hear Nina’s speech,” Ewan said. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“No, no, Mr. Donahue. It really can’t wait. I mean, I guess to a guy like you, it might not seem important. Girl troubles, I mean.” Jordie shifted from foot to foot. He shoved his hands into his back pockets, then rocked onto his heels. His grin was more a grimace than an expression of humor. His tongue ran along his teeth over and over, a nervous tic that didn’t seem related to the candy use. “Not when you got a great gal like Ms. Bronson. Hyper glorious, the way she is.”
Ewan narrowed his eyes, looking the kid over, wondering at his game. Did he have a crush on Nina? That would explain why he’d come to the house to talk to her after the accident and why he’d seemed so concerned. It didn’t explain why he was cornering Ewan now.
“Yes, she is great,” Ewan agreed. “Which is why I’d like to get back in there and make sure I get to hear her speech.”
He paused to study the kid. The twitching and shifting could be attributed to the candy. Everything else about him pointed to a kind of tension, not quite fear. A nervous excitement of some kind.
“You really just wanted to talk to me about girl problems?” Ewan asked. From inside the ballroom came a low, rising mutter, like laughter. He glanced in that direction, and Jordie stepped between him and the doors to look him in the eyes.
“Well, it’s kind of a girl problem,” Jordie said. “I mean, the girl’s my mom, so it’s not like, romantic. Not like that. But I don’t understand women, Mr. Donahue—”
Another wave of noise came from inside the ballroom. The crowd was definitely reacting to Nina’s speech, and it didn’t sound positive. Ewan put a hand on Jordie’s shoulder, his attention not on the kid, but on the ballroom doors.
“Jordie, you know I’d be happy to talk to you about your problems. Tomorrow. Come by tomorrow,” Ewan said, then gave the kid an ironic smile. “You know where I live and how to get there, and this time, you’re invited. I’ll be expecting you.”
Jordie stepped in front of him again when Ewan tried to leave. Then out of the way. Then back in front of him. “Sorry, Mr. Donahue. Sorry.”
It happened twice more, becoming a ridiculous dance until Ewan took Jordie by the shoulders and stopped him from moving until Ewan could step around him. “I’m going back inside the party. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Donahue,” Jordie called after him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Have a great time at the party. Give Ms. Bronson my best.”
“You’ll see her tomorrow, too,” Ewan shot back over his shoulder as his hand reached for the ballroom door’s handle.
When Jordie didn’t answer, he paused, certain the twitchy kid would’ve had another spate of candy-fueled comments. Instead, all he caught was a glimpse of the kid’s back as he headed down the hotel hallway. Shaking his head, Ewan tugged open the ballroom door.
Inside was chaos.
* * *
Nina felt her attacker before anyone in the crowd even seemed to notice there was someone on the riser behind her. A subtle shift in the air temperature. Body heat. A footstep, too close. The specifically metallic clang of a knife being pulled from someplace hidden.
She stopped, midsentence, and turned to block the slash with her forearm. Pain rocketed through her as her attacker slammed a hand into Nina’s rib cage, shoving her off the riser. She hit the floor hard, slamming the back of her head, her elbows, her tailbone.
Painstars exploded in Nina’ vision. Shouts rang in her ears, but she ignored them. She rolled onto her hands and knees, her dress getting in the way until she tore it at the same time as she rolled again to keep out of the way from the attacker attempting to body slam her. The fabric didn’t rip easily, but with a few shifts of effort, she shredded it from the knees down.
Assess.
She was being attacked.
By the time she got to her feet again, Nina had also taken off her shoes. One gripped in each fist, she slashed forward with the spiked heels. Once, twice, striking out at the attacker, who wore a server’s uniform. That explained how he’d gotten so close to her without anyone noticing, as well as the knife as a weapon. It did not explain how he’d managed to get through security in the first place.
Protect.
No client this time. She was the target. She had to protect herself.
One heel slashed the bro’s cheek, laying open a long slice. Blood poured free, splattering her. He grunted and lunged at her with the knife. Over his shoulder, Nina caught sight of the crowd, which had surged into a frenzy.
Eliminate.
She shoulder-checked him into the riser. He hit it with the backs of his knees and tumbled backward. Nina leaped, meaning to knock him back down, but her attacker didn’t get up. He couldn’t; he’d been knocked out cold.
Someone else was coming at her, though. Another of the waitstaff, this time a petite, dark-haired girl Nina recalled had been serving drinks. She avoided the slash of Nina’s heel. Smaller but faster than the first attacker, this one was also better-trained. Seemed more determined, too, her face twisted in a grimace as she grunted and spun to gain momentum for a leaping kick that Nina caught on one hip.
“Got you.” Al’s grim voice came from beside Nina. She went low, sweeping out the attacker’s legs.
The girl stumbled but managed to keep her feet by jumping, arching in the air, and coming down into a crouch. She looked scared now, but too bad for her, because with both Nina and Al coming at her, she didn’t stand a chance. Al took her out with a slap to the back of the head that knocked her flat on her face. Nina added a quick tie-up of her hands behind her back, using a scrap of her shredded gown.
There’d been screams when it all began, but now the room had fallen into a stunned silence. Nobody but Al had come to her aid. Al moved away to nudge the first attacker with the toe of her boot. He still wasn’t moving, but she bent to secure his hands behind him with a set of zip ties from her belt.
Where the hell was all the security Katrinka had bragged about? Heart still thumping although she was forcibly slowing it, along with her breathing, Nina looked around the room. She was still half-expecting another attacker to come at her, or something else to be happening in the room, but everyone had frozen.
Slowly, first one, then another guest began to clap until finally everyone in the room was joining in. The applause rose, thunderous, along with exclamatory congratulations and murmurs of admiration.
“They think you were putting on a show for them,” Al said in a low voice next to Nina’s ear, which had finally stopped ringing. “Better take your bows.”
From the back of the room, a glimmering rectangle appeared as the ballroom doors opened to reveal a male silhouette. Ewan, Nina realized as he hurried toward her with a look of concern. He’d been outside. Had no idea of what was going on. He hadn’t seen any of the attack.
“Everyone, everyone, let’s all remember to thank Ms. Bronson for this admirable display of how particularly important it is to support her and Ewan Donahue in their new initiatives!” Katrinka had appeared to put her fingers on Nina’s elbow, curling them tightly. She leaned to say directly into Nina’s ear, “You really ought to have warned me there was going to be a demonstration.”
There’d be time later to tell the other woman that Nina had had nothing to do with the attack. Right now, what she wanted was Ewan. She shrugged off Katrinka’s pinching grip and moved toward him, dodging the outstretched hands trying to grab her attention.
“I had no idea,” said one woman in a green cocktail dress, her glittering, cosmetically enhanced eyes matching the fabric perfectly. “I’m beyond stunned!”
Another man tried to stop her, a sloshing drink in his hand that splattered as she ducked away from his sloppy attempt at taking her hand. “You move like the wind, the very wind. If you have time later . . .”
“I’m sorry,” Nina cut in, voice grim. “I’m busy
later.”
She didn’t care if she’d offended him. What she wanted, needed, was to make sure that Ewan was all right. Someone had come after her in a room full of people. It was obvious it had not been meant as a true attempt on her life—not unless whoever had done it had no real idea of how easily she’d be able to fend them off. But it had been an attack, and on her. Not him.
It was not the first time.
The buzzcycle, she thought. They’d both assumed it had come after Ewan, but that it had run her down instead because she’d been protecting him. Was this more of the same? Why was she the target now? They’d been through this before. Small attacks meant to distract, to threaten, all leading up to something far more deadly. A sinking feeling of dread in her gut pushed her in Ewan’s direction.
“Are you all right?” she asked before he had a chance to get out even a single word.
He looked so confused. More so when she kissed him. He stared down at the ruins of her dress. Her bare feet.
“I’m fine. What the hell happened to you, baby?” He glanced over her shoulder. “Katrinka?”
“We should go home now,” Nina said. “I can talk to you there.”
“Nina, darling, there are so many people here who want to speak to you now, after that demonstration. Ewan, you really should have warned me,” Katrinka said. “I could have been more prepared.”
“For what?” Ewan asked, looking from her to Nina and back again. His arm went around Nina’s waist, pulling her close to him. “What’s going on? What kind of demonstration? What are you talking about?”
Finally, Katrinka seemed confused. “What just happened wasn’t planned?”
Nina shook her head. The aches and bruises would go away soon enough, but the unsettling feeling of being targeted on purpose wasn’t going to disappear for a while. “I thought you said you had security here.”
“Of course there’s security,” Katrinka said, still clearly bewildered but now also annoyed. “We always have security. Security’s the reason you weren’t filleted like a fish!”
