Decision Made

by Michael Anderle

  Price was good at the waiting game. She watched him as though waiting patiently for him to sift through the information.

  They passed the minute mark, then the two-minute mark. Gary struggled to keep his face straight and not show the annoyance creeping in.

  And, as he should have expected, she ruined the game again. “Perhaps we should move on to the emergency, Mr. Brooks.”

  “Huh?”

  “You said there was an emergency.” She pointed past him to the door. “The door is soundproof and there are no listening devices here. It is perfectly safe to speak freely.” She folded her hands on the desk and gave him her full attention.

  It was deeply unsettling.

  If she could come out swinging, so could he. “Ms. Price, has Diatek developed a viable AI?”

  “I regret to say we have not.” She met his gaze squarely. “If there is a need for analytics, we are happy to provide any and all existing capabilities. I take great pride in them. We established Hollin as a company because our machine learning is top of the line. If you tell me what you need, I will let you know what we can do to help.”

  “That is the emergency.” His temper frayed openly now. “An AI that is not known and is not registered must have controls in place.”

  “Ah.” She held a hand up and went to her computer. Without explanation, she tapped a few times and created a couple of entries through various systems. “Yes. When establishing Hollin, we added some things to the mandated controls. None of their servers have the hardware or software to enable even a LAN connection. Any programs developed will be entirely separate from one another, from networks, and from their other servers. I’ll forward these to you. We did, of course, seek approval before filing.”

  “And so there is no recent development that would warrant our interest?” Gary asked.

  She swiveled in her chair, her hands clasped in her lap. “Every defense contractor wants that contract.” She was smiling now. “Please know that we do want to be transparent. To the best of my knowledge—and I do keep a close eye on these things—we have been.”

  He tapped one of his fingers on the back of his hand for a long moment. Finally, he stood and held a hand out to shake. He didn’t want to but he also didn’t want her to win this.

  “Thank you for your time,” he said curtly.

  “And you.” She stood. “Is there any more of the facility you would like to see before you leave?”

  “No. Thank you.” He turned on his heel and left, not bothering to say a goodbye to the secretary.

  His blood was boiling while he walked to the elevator. What was she playing at? She had something in the pipeline—she had to.

  Unless she didn’t. It was possible she was telling the truth because the filings had been sent for approval and she had been transparent with him. With hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of funding on the line, there wasn’t a military company in the world that wasn’t searching for AI.

  And she had given him a direct look, which meant…was Hollin a distraction? If she was offering to show him Hollin and these facilities, did that mean the AI simply wasn’t there?

  Or was she telling the truth?

  He wanted to scream with frustration. The entire purpose of his visit had been to get the truth out of her and not leave until he had browbeaten her into telling him what she knew. The experience had, however, been somewhat akin to running into an iceberg—cold, unpleasant, and not at all what he wanted or needed.

  Worse, he still didn’t know what he needed to know.

  In the lobby, he returned the badge to the security guard without making eye contact—the last thing he could deal with right now was a security guard’s smirk. Conscious of the eyes on him, he hailed a cab and got lost in the midday traffic.

  It was about an hour later that he returned, now in jeans and a black shirt, to watch the entrance of Diatek’s headquarters.

  Price was up to something and he intended to find out what it was. When she emerged a few hours later, he marked the license plate number of her car and hopped on his bicycle. He didn’t know how long it would take for her to give him a clue.

  No matter what, he would be there when she did.

  Chapter Six

  The requests for family heirlooms started coming in the next day. Taigan puzzled through lists of descriptions and more than a few bad drawings and began to disappear into her room to get the heirlooms in ones and twos.

  “What do you think this is?” she asked Jamie at one point. She held up a heavy bangle with elaborate animal heads on both ends. “Maybe it’s one of those monsters Gwyna made. No, it feels wrong to joke about that.”

  He grinned. “It looks like a warthog to me.”

  “Not a chupacabra?”

  “What is a chupacabra?”

  She shrugged. “Anyway, as far as I can tell, it matches this drawing. I thought the drawing was spectacularly bad until I saw the actual bracelet.”

  Jamie came to look over her shoulder and did a double take at the drawing. “Son of a…urgh.”

  His sister grinned at him, then cleared her throat as the door opened nearby. Both twins looked up in time to see the mayor escorting another man to their table. His clothes were striped with grease and soot, as were his hands. He’d tried to clean them, she could see, but there was still a line of black around each nail. The muscles in his arms stood out.

  “This is Cedric,” the mayor told them. “He’s the town blacksmith.”

  That information wasn’t exactly a surprise. She stood and held the bangle out. “This was the drawing you made, yes? And is this the bracelet?”

  “Yes.” He came forward to take it in both hands. “Yes, this is it. Thank you. It’s of no value—to anyone but me, I mean. My father made it.” He looked at them with a laugh. “This was supposed to be our sheepdog. Well, you can see how it turned out. And it’s only brass. But my mother wore it every day for dinner.” He cradled it in his hands like a baby. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “I’m glad you have it back,” Taigan said honestly. Her heart squeezed. How many people would she not be able to return heirlooms to?

  “I brought you something,” he said. He put the bangle carefully in a pouch at his waist and reached into a larger bag strapped to his leg. Two knives emerged, their handles made of carved bone and their blades showing the waves of folded metal.

  From the mayor’s awestruck expression, the knives were as valuable as they looked.

  “Take them.” The blacksmith held them out.

  “I couldn’t,” she said honestly. “These are…you should sell these.”

  “There is no one to sell them to,” the man said. He was smiling. “I made them simply because I could. It’s my best work and I’ve had offers for them over the years. My daughter helped me carve the bone before she got married and moved away. I could never bear to part with them.” He held the knives out again. “Now I know why. They were for you two.”

  The twins each took one of the knives. Soft leather sheaths followed, each tooled with images of leaves and acorns.

  “Are you sure?” Taigan asked the man.

  “I am sure.” He smiled at them. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart—and my daughter’s. She’ll have this bangle when I’m gone to remember her grandparents, and she’ll know that you have the knives she made. She will be glad.”

  He left with the mayor, and she sat to stare at the knife. “I feel bad.”

  “Don’t.” Jamie smiled. “Okay, yes, I do, too. But we shouldn’t. People like to repay each other.”

  “Jamie, we didn’t do anything.”

  “You said that when the mayor asked us to find his son, too.” He frowned at her. “But you did do something. Maybe winning fights isn’t so much about…well, winning fights but doing the right thing. Perhaps it doesn’t look like a movie, where it’s all choreographed and you look super-epic. Maybe it looks seriously stupid and like you don’t know what you’re doing and there�
��s some luck.”

  “I hope you’re going somewhere with this.”

  “We’re the ones who did it because we’re the ones who showed up,” he said bluntly. “And he has his heirloom because we chose to try to return those things. We haven’t done nothing.”

  Taigan smiled at him. She stared at the blade for a moment. “I shouldn’t test the edge of this, should I?”

  “You definitely should.”

  “Now I know I shouldn’t.” She heard the door open again and sheathed the knife before she tied the sheath to her belt. “I wonder who’s next.”

  It proved to be two farmers, a husband and wife whose wedding bands had been stolen. They were the thinnest pieces of metal she had seen, silver painted over some other metal, but they were clearly precious to the couple. The husband handed them a loaf of braided bread, sweet and studded with raisins, which they tore into and sighed happily. When the farmers left, they looked pleased.

  The next villager, the town cobbler, tried to give them a chicken. It took a great deal of effort to convince him that they did not need one and in the end, he promised to deliver it to the innkeeper so she could cook it for them that evening.

  “You know,” Jamie said, as the man walked off, “I don’t like staring my dinner in the eyes.”

  “Don’t be a butcher when you grow up,” his sister advised.

  “That sounds good. I…” He trailed off into an undignified gurgle.

  Taigan looked up curiously and saw the woman from earlier that morning. She wore a deep-green dress that brushed the floor and her hair was swept up around her face. If anything, she looked more stunning than she had at their first encounter.

  “Hello,” the new arrival said. “I believe you found some things of mine that were taken by the elves.”

  “Not all of them.” The girl swallowed. “I’m very sorry.”

  Beside her, Jamie made an inarticulate noise, and she resisted the urge to stamp on his foot.

  She laid each of the items carefully on the table. There was a plain gold ring, a bracelet made of gemstones set in gold, and two chains that looked almost too delicate to support anything, although they both held pendants that seemed to be made of black rock.

  “It was good of you to bring these back,” the woman said. Her hands traveled over each item and she picked the ring up and slid it onto her finger. “Ah. I’ve missed this.” She looked at Taigan. “Come here.”

  The girl approached with a frown. The woman’s hands hovered over the two necklaces, and eventually, she chose one and fastened it around Taigan’s neck.

  “There,” she said decisively. “It suits you.”

  Her fingers crept up to touch the black stone. “What…is it?”

  “A meteorite.” Her smile was wide and genuine. “Or, as the people in this village would say, a fallen star.” She cupped the girl’s cheek in her hand and looked into her eyes for a moment. “All will be well. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I…don’t.” She swallowed hard. “I truly don’t.”

  The woman smiled again. “Remember what you fight for. That’s what you truly want.” She kissed her forehead and left with the bracelet and the other necklace.

  Taigan stared after her with her mouth hanging open.

  “She didn’t kiss me,” Jamie said finally.

  She looked at him. “I will throw up. Seriously, all over you if you say another word about that.”

  He leaned back in his seat, sulking. Thankfully, however, he shut up.

  The rest of the day passed in a steady stream of townspeople, each of whom seemed determined to thank the twins for what they had done. They received cured meats, bottles of homemade wine, more offers of livestock, and so many other things that Taigan finally suggested a big gathering that night. The mayor seemed enthusiastic enough—“The town needs something to celebrate”—and the preparations commenced.

  Taigan and Jamie only barely managed to weasel out of slaughtering the animals, which was, by all accounts, one of the prime honors. In the end, they only did so by hiding in the attic of the inn and pretending to not hear people calling for them.

  “We’ve done enough for them,” he said as they wandered around below, and she nodded seriously.

  With the knowledge that they would set out early the next morning, they spent a little time packing. New sets of traveling clothes had been put together for them with leather arm guards, soft tunics, and double-layered leather armor that laced tightly and made them sit very straight.

  They had declined to take the horses. After all, neither of them knew how to take care of horses, nor were they eager to repeat the pain of the earlier ride. Prima made snide comments, but they had now realized that they could annoy her by cheerfully acknowledging their shortcomings.

  The night was perfect. With roast goat—a delicacy they were surprised to find they loved—duck, chicken, homemade cheeses and breads, and wine made of everything from apples to strawberries, there was an abundance of food and laughter.

  The village also boasted several musicians who played a rousing set of songs to dance to. The dances, although not complex, left everyone winded for the finale—a few haunting songs sung by various members of the village. The twins leaned together and she felt a strange guilt.

  Usually, she was the one to miss things only to hear about them later.

  This was one that everyone else was missing. Eventually, she decided to stop worrying. She exhaled a happy sigh and squeezed her brother’s hand.

  “What is it?” He sounded concerned.

  “I’m looking forward to college,” she said. “Of course, that’s if you forged me a good enough essay.”

  He laughed.

  In the end, they said their goodbyes to every person and received another round of thanks—even from those whose heirlooms had not been recovered. It seemed that the mere fact of the elves being attacked on the road was enough to make some people feel better.

  She decided that made sense. The elves had been incredibly annoying.

  The woman they had seen earlier did not thank them in person but she gave Taigan a nod and a smile as she left. Taigan poked the mayor’s shoulder.

  “Who’s that?” she asked.

  “Ah.” The mayor smiled although he looked a little unsettled. “She came here…not long ago, actually—a good woman and keeps mainly to herself. I think she’s a—” He cleared his throat. “A sorceress,” he said in a whisper. “She heals people but far better than anyone does with only bandages. I don’t know anything else about her. I think she traveled quite extensively before this. She never seems scared of anything and even bargained with the elves when they wanted to make an example.”

  “Ah.” She watched her go. “And what’s her name?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s a strange name.” The mayor shrugged. “She calls herself Dotty.”

  Chapter Seven

  Taigan rapped on the table. “Jamie. Jamie.”

  A snore came from beside her brother’s bowl of porridge.

  “All right, I’ll eat your breakfast.” She waited for a response. “Oh, wow, you’re completely out. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.” The last repetition of his name was accompanied by a poke on the shoulder.

  He came awake with a snort and flailed his limbs, from which she only barely managed to save his porridge. Once he had settled, she put it carefully in front of him.

  “Right.” He hadn’t been asleep long enough to get the pattern of the wood on his cheek but his eyes were all bleary. He began to shovel porridge into his mouth with the single-minded determination of someone who didn’t know when he would fall asleep again.

  The innkeeper approached with the pot and Taigan tried to wave her away, but the woman ignored her protests. Two more heaping ladles’ full of porridge went into each bowl before she disappeared, while the twins stared in dismay at all the food.

  “Have we ever met someone who could feed us too much?” she asked her brother.

  “No. Grandma would be i
mpressed.” He blew a breath out and picked his spoon up. “I can do this. I’m ready. I was born ready. I have fought jackalopes and elves and will not be defeated by porridge.”

  Taigan stared at him but returned to her meal. It was good, creamy, and rich, with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of dried fruit to go in it. It was what their grandmother, their father’s mother, would have described as “stick to your ribs food” when she’d been feeding the entire crew of a lumber mill.

  They finished, although barely.

  “We should have said we’d keep the horses,” she said weakly and one hand hovered over her stomach.

  “We’d break the horses,” Jamie pointed out. “I’d roll out of here but I don’t want anything to touch my stomach.”

  “Yeah.”

  The innkeeper would take no payment, no matter how much they argued and cajoled. Whatever selfishness motivated people like Gwyna and the elves, Taigan had noted that it was matched by generosity in others. She finally accepted her defeat with grace and set off.

  She had seen this coming, after all, which was why she’d put a gold piece in her room and one in Jamie’s. The innkeeper hadn’t had any heirlooms to return and so she had put them up out of the goodness of her heart. The girl wanted that to be rewarded.

  It was another day of setting off in the early morning stillness, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t more apprehensive this time.

  Last time, after all, they’d come across the elves.

  After the initial phase of fullness had passed, however, and it became clear that there were no elves around, the journey became very pleasant. She liked to tip her face to the sun and close her eyes as she walked so she could hear birdsong and feel the breeze.

  When they saw the dust rising in the distance, the twins didn’t even need to look at each other to make the same choice. They disappeared into the bushes at the side of the road and waited to see what approached.