Jake looked evenly at her. “Do you think there are?”
She swallowed. She couldn’t really justify her conclusion. And yet, every instinct told her she was right. “I think there are more than that.”
Jake finally looked away from her to glance at Adam, who nodded and told her, “I’m a data scientist. I pieced together every record of sightings I could find.” He tugged at the gold streak in his hair, looking serious. “I think there are at least a few thousand. They may not all be in one place. If they can shield from satellite view, they could have a pretty good-sized city.”
“And they could do that how?” Jake asked, clearly sure of the answer himself but wanting Adam to explain it to the rest of them.
Adam looked happy to try. “They could be underground. I’m not sure they’d need a cave. It’s possible they could dig. Or they could use old infrastructure, like underground parking somewhere that’s not occupied.”
Coryn stared at the map. Based on what she knew from walking a sliver of that land, it was a big place to find a small town in. “So Blessing needs to tell her what to look for. And maybe you need to leave some people to help her.”
“Will she accept help?”
“I don’t know.” She sat quietly for a few moments, suddenly worried about Lou. Lou hated Returners. What would happen to her if she ran into hundreds of them, all in one place? What would she do?
CHAPTER FOUR
Aspen snuggled into Coryn’s chest, clearly aware she was leaving soon. “I’m sorry sweetie,” she murmured into the soft fur between his drooping ears. “I’ll walk you again after I see Blessing.”
The little dog snuffled more loudly. She had been surprised at how much harder it was to have a pet here the city than it had been Outside, even though out there Aspen’s life had been in danger every day. Hers, too, for that matter. Now, every minute felt full of demands, and there was no time for the dog. Every time she looked at him, she felt guilty. Right now, she only had five minutes until she had to leave. “You’d like to see Blessing wouldn’t you? But I can’t take you. Honest. He said I have to leave you home. But you can run with us part of the way tomorrow.”
He licked her face and she shook her head, amused with him. As she put him down and closed the door on his hopeful face, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll be back.”
He didn’t look like he understood.
Twenty minutes later, Coryn and Blessing rode side by side on a bikeway through the center of Seattle. Other bicycles crowded them, but they were used to riding together and managed to stay close.
Blessing would leave tomorrow to meet Lou, Shuska, and Matchiko somewhere near Yakima. Julianna had asked her to be home by six. That was still four hours away. It felt like a vacation. She stood on the pedals, smiling, happy in the moment. She rode a new bike Julianna had bought for her, a sweet thing that responded to any request she gave it.
Blessing rode an oversized red bicycle that fit his tall frame. His dark shorts and jersey blended so closely with his skin color that he looked almost naked, except for a few neon yellow stripes.
She glanced over at him, catching his attention from the corner of his eye.
His face erupted in a smile as he teased her. “It’s going to be strange to be Outside and not worry about you.”
“Brat. Does Julianna work everyone this hard?”
“You’re asking that after a week? Most people take a little longer to complain.”
“I could barely get out of bed this morning. Everything hurt.”
“Are you faster?”
“Yes.”
“Are you smarter?”
“Not a fair question.” She darted ahead of him and turned a corner under a big cedar, starting them up a hill. When he caught back up she said, “I know more, but I don’t think that’s the same as being smarter.”
“True. Yes, she’s always like that. And if you get lazy, she’ll drop you. She selects and trains the best, and there are always more waiting.”
“You’re implying you’re one of the best.”
He grinned over at her. “I am.” He powered up the hill ahead of her, stopping at the top. “Are you good enough to catch me on the downhill?”
His bigger wheels and weight gave him an advantage. She slapped her bike into high gear and pedaled past him, tires thrumming, gauges showing that she was hitting thirty-five miles per hour.
He glided past her. She swore and pedaled harder.
They coasted down onto a flat almost side by side, shedding speed. Joy filled her, joy at the free moment, at the speed they’d gotten to, and at being with Blessing. “Please be careful out there,” she told him. “I don’t have many friends. I don’t want to lose any.”
He shrugged, as if dismissing the idea of danger. “Let’s go down to the waterfront.”
“Okay. I can’t be late getting back.”
“We have time.”
They dismounted outside of a small building with a long line around it. “This is a satay place. Very popular.” He looked quite proud of himself. “All good on your training diet. Protein and a little seasoning, a fresh salad.”
“I was kinda hoping to break my diet. A little forbidden dessert or something.”
He shook his head as he locked up both bikes with his lock. “She’s making you a champion.”
Coryn frowned. “I know. I’m lucky. She’s spending so much on me. Time. Her house. Adam. A full-time trainer costs a lot of money.”
“It would be a fortune to an orphan from Kent. It’s budget dust to her. She likes you. Accept that, but don’t count on it. She loves to help, but she doesn’t like people who get dependent.”
They were close enough to the waterfront that she smelled the Puget Sound. A salty, working waterfront scent. They joined the line and slowly worked their way to the front. She chose chicken and he chose fish and chicken and ordered some mushroom as well. The food all came on sticks and smelled of soy and sesame and ginger. They took it outside and sat on a vast green lawn dotted with other patrons. The meat practically melted off of the sticks and the tofu was firm and quite fabulous. “That might be the best chicken I ever had,” she said.
“I thought I should treat you to something good.” He was laughing, teasing her. “After all, you might never see me again.”
She stared at her last piece of chicken, her appetite suddenly waning. Blessing had a habit of thinking every day would be his last, which he’d taught her when they were both Outside, in danger, and used jokes to stay brave. “I forgot.”
“Don’t.” He curled his tongue around a mushroom and pulled it free of the stick. When he finished chewing, he said, “The city is more dangerous than out there.”
“Really?”
He cocked his head at her, uncharacteristically serious. “There’re at least ten people who wish they had your position with Julianna.”
She snorted. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“I know.” He grinned. “You’re still quite unaware of what’s happened to you. So I shall enlighten you. Julianna will be loyal—that’s her nature. But others may try to hurt you. The city is a dangerous place.”
Julianna herself had said something to that effect. “You mean physically?”
“Politically. That hurts more.”
They took their plates to the recycler. Instead of going back to the bikes, Blessing led her around the building and they walked for two blocks and came up onto the tail of the line for the Great Wheel. “Have you ever been?”
“No.” It wasn’t something her parents would have been able to afford. Certainly, it wasn’t something orphans could do.
She stared up at the Ferris wheel. It stood well over two hundred feet tall, easily the tallest thing on the boardwalk that ran along the seawall. Long before the weather domes were perfected, a violent and unexpected storm tore the first wheel down and dropped it in the water. This one had been rebuilt almost fifty feet taller, which was a very Seacouver thing to do. The city liked grand ges
tures.
The gondolas were white with blue-and-green accents, and the wheel itself was a bright silvery metal with colored ropes and strings and circles of light built into it. She’d seen it from a distance at night, luminous even on cloudy nights, and brilliant with other colors on holidays. Last Valentine’s Day, it had been bright red and pink. Today it was white, green, and blue. Seacouver’s colors.
It looked smaller than she expected until they stood close to it, and then it loomed over them so that she felt small.
As they neared the front of the line, Coryn bounced on the balls of her feet. They still had two hours; there was time to get to the party even though the line inched along. No wonder Blessing had asked her to leave Aspen; the wheel was no place for a dog. What if he fell?
Their car rose slowly as other cars took on passengers. Every small bit of rotation made the view that much better. But nothing could have prepared her for her first unencumbered view from the very top of the wheel. While it wasn’t nearly as high or vast as the view from the Bridge of Stars, it was intimate. She could make out the colors people wore, and almost their expressions. The lights of West Seattle glittered across the Sound, the top of the hill above the boardwalk that ran by Alki Beach roughly at eye level. Even better than the top of the bridge, there was only she and Blessing in the gondola. No crowd. No watchers.
Blessing slid an arm around her as the wheel began turning at a steady pace. The second time they reached the top, he leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm and sweet, undemanding in spite of the fact that the kiss sent shivers through her. The last time he kissed her, she hadn’t returned it. It had been a total surprise, and she hadn’t had time to think about it. This time she welcomed him, and returned his kiss with abandon.
He tasted like spicy satay and the wind of Outside, familiar and wild at once.
When they disembarked, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “That’s what you do when every day is your last.”
‡ ‡ ‡
They didn’t kiss again, but she felt his lips on hers until she stepped into the shower to start getting ready for Julianna’s mysterious party. Hot water poured over her head. She tried to assess her feelings as she washed her hair, and found she couldn’t. She was just as confused about Blessing as she had always been. He was wonderful to be around, a little mysterious, and yet he always held something back. Well, except during the kiss, but she hadn’t held herself back then either.
They both seemed to seek out the company of the other, but to then be awkward in it, like middle-school kids.
She turned her back to the water and set it on massage, letting it slam into her tight upper-back muscles. Blessing amused her and entertained her and made her laugh, but when she pushed at him for substance, his personality slid away from definition like jelly.
She reluctantly turned off the water and wandered into her room dressed in nothing more than a towel. An older woman in a white uniform waited for her. Three outfits hung from hooks on the walls. One was a purple pantsuit lined with sequins that she hated on sight, another was a small black dress that might do, but she went right to the third, a long flowing dress in deep blues with black accents. “This one.”
“Julianna asked that you try them all.”
Coryn smiled. “I’m Coryn.”
“Ginger.”
“I don’t care what the purple looks like. I’m not going to wear it.”
Ginger smiled as if in approval, although she said nothing.
Twenty minutes later, she was ready. The blue had fit beautifully, but it made her look like a high school girl on her way to a dance. The black dress hugged her waist and felt a little too short, but she had never looked so old or so . . . what? Poised, maybe. A pair of gold earrings glittered as brightly as Adam’s streak of golden hair, and a gold necklace with a large fossil of a shell outlined in gold acted as a statement piece. Her shoes were nude, low-heeled, and comfortable. Ginger had dried her hair straight, which added to the years the dress gave her. She might be twenty-five instead of eighteen.
Julianna nodded in approval when Coryn entered the room. “I had thought that might be the best one.”
Coryn touched the skirt self-consciously. “I hated the sequins.”
“My designer recommended it for you.”
“Purple would look terrible close to my red hair. At least that color purple.”
Julianna looked amused. “I’ll tell her you don’t like sequins.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the Ambassador’s Ball.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
Julianna raised an eyebrow. “I forget so much. I started the ball years ago. Thirty-seven years ago, I think. No, thirty-eight.”
What must it be like to have so much personal history?
Julianna picked up a glass of water that sat on the hallway table, waiting for her, and took a sip. “The date and place of the ball changes. It’s wherever and whenever the Association of Mayors meets. They invite me whenever it’s in Seacouver.”
“Do they meet at the ball?” She realized it was a silly question as soon as she said it and shook her head. “Of course not. That’s where you’ve been the last few days.”
Julianna leaned in and smoothed Coryn’s hair. “You can be forgiven for not understanding the ways of the rich and stupid. I should have explained it to you. I’ve just been . . . rather busy. Jake doesn’t go to the main conference anymore, but he’ll be my date for the ball.”
Coryn still hadn’t figured out if they were or had ever been lovers. She suspected that the whole megacity movement had been started because these two loved each other when they were the mayors of Seattle and Vancouver respectively and didn’t want a border between them. But that was a romantic way to look at things and she hadn’t found the courage to ask Julianna.
Julianna stepped back, looking her over again with a pleased smile. “Are we too alike?” she asked, twisting so her skirt washed around her legs like a wave. She also wore black, although her dress was velvet and fell below her knees, swishing softly over boots that looked like they’d been printed in place around her calves. Some cleverness had hidden the zippers entirely.
“No. No,” Coryn stammered. “I could never look that classy.”
Julianna’s high laugh bounced off the walls and the whole foyer seemed to brighten. “You have the infinite class of the young. Use it while you have it. It’s time for you to meet people. Focus on the ones under fifty. They’ll be staff, like you. They’ll know more than their bosses in some cases, and you may need relationships with someone other than Jake and me someday. That’s what you’re here to develop. Political friends.”
That sounded so cold. “So I’m just supposed to meet people?”
Julianna picked up a small, gold purse and handed it to her. “There are paper cards in there. I took the liberty of making them up.” She smiled as she held the purse up close to Coryn’s jewelry. “I threw a comb in, and a pen and paper. Write down the names of people you meet. Store nothing on your wristlet. No pictures.” She hesitated a moment. “I wish we had a few more months. But this is too good an opportunity to ignore, and it will be years before this ball is here again.” She frowned, looking concerned. “You need social graces.”
Coryn stiffened. How to answer that comment? She paused, searched for words, and decided to simply exercise some social grace. “Thank you for the dress.”
Julianna smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome. After a few months of getting paychecks, I’ll expect you to buy your own clothes. You’ll develop a style.” She picked up her own purse, a small clutch the color of midnight. “Follow me.”
They took the skyway between buildings, threading their way through gardens bright with multihued lights designed to show off flowering plants. Some of the other people walking near them appeared to be going to the same place; they wore way too much finery for a simple summer night. Coryn had gotten much better at spotting the bodyguards who tended
to surround Julianna. This time she identified three she was certain of and three more she thought were guards.
When they were halfway across the skyway, she asked, “Which mayors will be here?”
“Los Angeles, Portland, Mexico City, New York, Salt Lake City, Toronto, Austin.”
“So all from this continent?”
“Yes.” Julianna grinned, a slightly evil-looking grin for such an old woman. “We share the same federal governments to manage. Better to leave Europe to the cities there, and Africa to Abu Dhabi.”
Coryn scraped up a smattering of her high-school geography as they merged with a growing crowd. “And China and Japan to the Chinese.”
“Japan is still independent. Barely.”
“Oh. I guess that’s good.”
“It is.” Julianna took Coryn’s arm and led her around a knot of young women who had stopped to fix something on one of their dresses. “There’ll be hundreds of people at the party. When Jake and I ran the place, every staff member who thought they might be senior begged for tickets.”
“So what do the mayors meet about?”
“Cities. There’s so much. How do they think? How do we manage them? What rules will make them better? What do people need? How do you tell when people are happy? How do you know when they’re not? There’s a lot to running a city.”
During the recent attack, waves of hacking had brought the transportation system to a standstill and almost compromised the city’s water. “They must talk about security.”
“Everything comes down to security. Even economics is about security. And yes, we’ve been discussing the attacks. There shouldn’t be open discussion about that here. But if you hear anything . . .”
“I’ll listen carefully.”
“Don’t worry too much.” Julianna shot her a quick, sharp look. “Your job is to make contacts. If you look like you’re spying, no one will tell you anything. Just be friendly.”
Keepers Page 5
