It was a blow I was sure Trent was feeling keenly, and the drones hadn't stopped their pursuit of the instigators, condemning them on national television just prior to our wedding announcement.
Trent had enough on his hands just surviving without considering rescuing me. So, I was on my own. My father's friend in the Overseers having not returned to the Palace since last night. None of the Cardinals on my side. The staff all but cut off to me. The Citizen reporter and cameramen were here, in the studio the Chief Overseer used for televised messages, but the space was otherwise devoid of anyone else except Shiloh drones. None would offer aid if asked.
I had to take the chance though. I had to escape before I was dragged in front of a celebrant and married to Wang Chao. Beyond that, I couldn't even contemplate.
I made a mental assessment of what I had at my disposal. I'd managed to steal a steak knife at dinner last night, while the Overseers scrambled to respond to the riot, and the Shiloh drone's attention was diverted to that. Today, I had found a pair of scissors, in a downstairs bathroom I'd used to check my make-up in, just before coming here. I was armed, most rudimentary, but enough to combat the drone outside my bedroom door, I was sure.
Wang Chao approached me then, breaking into my scheming, smiling as though all his cares in the world were negligible. He'd refused to talk of the rebels. I'd tried to find out again what Harjeet had received in exchange for me, but he'd shut down. Reluctantly, I'd abandoned all efforts at garnering further intel.
My main goal now was escape. I didn't think beyond that.
"Selena," Wang Chao murmured, leaning close to brush hair back from my face. I forced myself to not shift backwards out of his reach; an instinctive response that would ensure he'd keep me close.
Every time I'd pulled away, he'd held on tighter. I knew better now. It was a cat and mouse game that made Harjeet's machinations seem tame in comparison.
"You look tired, toétèi. You should rest before the wedding this evening," he suggested, tucking my body in under his arm, making a picture perfect scene for the clicking cameras. "I'll have a light supper brought up to your quarters at five. And you will use your drone to dress this evening." The warning was apparent in his whispered tone.
"Of course," I replied, relieved to have time alone to enact my plan.
"But then," he swiftly countered, "you could rest on the sofa in my office, while I conduct some last minute work."
The one-eighty degree turn-around made me glance up at his sharp features. I'd agreed too swiftly to be alone. He'd seen through it.
"I think that would be best," he decided. "I rather like the idea of you being near me whilst I work."
"Is that to be my role in the future?" I asked.
He turned me toward him, his arms wrapped around my slightly smaller frame. Slowly he lowered his face towards mine. Cameras clicked. Silence but for their incessant invasion.
"Toétèi," he whispered, his lips a mere fraction from mine. "I am all you need."
He kissed me and I let him, the cameras making a frantic accompaniment to my thundering pulse, to my increasing anger. My head rang with a buzz that rivalled Shiloh's. My hands fisted on his shoulders, my back rigid, but my mouth plundered, sickeningly without restraint.
I hated him. Dear God, I hated my once upon a time childhood friend.
He broke the kiss, satisfaction and hunger evident in his gaze. I dreaded to think what was in mine.
"This evening cannot come quickly enough," he growled. He hadn't bothered to lower his voice this time, so the reporter made an approving sound from the back of his throat.
His may well be the first I sliced open with the scissors.
But, I needed to play this carefully. Four drones in this room, two cameramen and one reporter. A lone Cardinal stood sentinel at the door. His presence a reminder that Shiloh was acting as well. Giving the public what they were used to, so when the switch was flicked they'd be completely unprepared.
"I want to try my wedding dress on," I whispered, sliding my hand down Wang Chao's arm in an act of affection I hoped was not overdone. "Make sure it doesn't require further adjustment."
"I had it made-to-measure," he countered. "A tailor who informed me he had worked on outfits for you in the past."
I couldn't think who that could be.
"What was the tailor's name?" I asked.
"A Chun-lan, I believe." I definitely didn't know him.
But Wang Chao needn't be made aware of that.
"Oh, then I must simply take a closer look."
He hesitated, suspicion and possession warring on his face. He wanted to believe me; believe that I was compliant and willing. But he could see the falsehood of my performance, the woman I was portraying had never been Selena Carstairs.
"You could watch," I suggested, hoping tradition would win out over desire.
"And bring us bad luck." I breathed with a rush of relief. Wang Chao turned to a drone and signalled it over. "Take Honourable Selena Carstairs to her room and assist her to dress. Do not leave her alone. Then once she is satisfied bring her to me."
"Of course, Chief Overseer," Shiloh replied.
It was the only chance I'd have. I smiled up at Wang Chao and then walked in front of the drone, all the while knowing its red glowing eyes were centred on my back. I held my chin up, kept my shoulders straight and swept through the Palace as though I belonged.
At one stage I had. But not anymore.
Once we made it to my room, the drone followed me inside, another drone waiting obediently in the corridor, but thankfully remaining there when I went to shut the door. A garment bag hung open behind a bi-folding screen that had not been present before. The intricate oriental flowers in mother of pearl insets on the panels rivalled the beauty of those I'd seen in The Chairman Suite.
I walked around behind the shield and stared at the most exquisitely made ky tyah in royal blue, shimmering gold, and lustrous cream. I fingered the sheer blue lace of the tyah worn over the figure hugging undershirt, the precious crystals sewn into the centre of tiny flowers that were dotted along the lower half of the garment. The mostly cream, with hints of gold, batik ky, worn beneath the lace top, was of the finest silk, and flowed smoothly through my hands. It had intricately stitched royal blue silk flowers sewn here and there. Together they would be stunning.
"Do you require assistance, Honourable Selena Carstairs?" the drone asked, just as I'd felt something hidden in the waist of the sarong.
I managed not to jump, but was unable to investigate the hidden object without alerting my drone guard further.
"Yes, if you please," I replied, allowing the drone to take my dress as I removed it, reminding myself constantly that there was no longer a Cardinal at the other end of the drone's camera lenses to see. This drone was buzzing.
I stepped into the under garments, sheer panties and skin tight brassiere top. It left nothing to the imagination, but the tyah itself would at least give the impression of modesty. I knew why Wang Chao had chosen this outfit; it was a representation of two of our cultures in one. Both Mahiah and Wáikěinese. Ky tyahs gave the image of a combined Wánměi. Just as he was hoping our marriage would be.
I may be from an upper Elite family. He may be the Chief Overseer. But we were two different races completely. His Wáikěinese to my Anglisc. Of course, for many years Wánměi has touted multiculturalism as its founding block, even before General Chew-wen came to power. But now the Overseers needed to reinforce that, before the revolution that threatened to blossom grew out of hand and pulled everything apart.
There were many ways to manipulate our Citizens.
The ky wrapped around my waist, hanging in luxuriant folds of elegant and graceful fabric. The small item sewn into the waistline was barely noticeable, if I hadn't felt the oddity of it when my fingers roamed the dress.
"Are you pleased, Honourable Selena Carstairs?" the drone asked.
I looked up at the sinister red eyes, saw it was still holding m
y former dress in its hands, and offered to take it. The drone handed the garment over without hesitation, waiting for my reply.
"The shoes," I said. "In the wardrobe."
The drone spun on its heel and started toward the door. It didn't make it. The scissors I'd found downstairs slammed into the back of its neck, forcing its head to thunk down on its chest, immobile. Eyes sightlessly looking toward the floor.
The buzzing increased, so I didn't waste any time. Scrambling to fish out my steak knife from beneath my mattress, I worked swiftly to remove the Shiloh interface cover on the side of its head. Sweat beading along my brow, the speed of my heart immeasurable. Any second now I expected the drone outside to come storming in. But my luck astoundingly held. The cover unscrewed, my lip held firmly between my teeth hard enough to leave marks, as I frantically tore wires out of every slot I could find, panting with effort while I did it.
I stood rasping for breath and perspiring and unable to hear a damn thing above the thud of my heart in my ears. A dizziness invaded my body, sweet but short-lived relief making me stumble towards the oriental screens and hold on until the spell subsided.
The drone kept buzzing. I didn't have much time.
Sucking in air and making a small determined sound, I launched myself at the dresser and pushed it aside. My fingernails broke as I attempted to dislodge the floorboards beneath, my mind racing, thunder from an unexpected storm sounding out through the closed window of my room making me jerk. That would, at least, add cover for my escape. I'd always worked best in a lightning storm at night.
My Shiloh unit appeared beneath the torn up boards, giving me another moment of disbelieving relief. I delved in and gripped the device, hauling it up and frantically searching for something to put it in. I had no handbags big enough to hold it; Wang Chao's personal dresser having selected the most ridiculously useless, but utterly fashionable, clothing for me.
I ran to the bed and pulled the pillowcase off in a flash of inspiration, stuffing the Shiloh unit inside and then turning to the door.
It was still closed. The drone outside not responding to any signals from the drone in here. Which should have been able to get a warning out before I uncovered its Shiloh interface. The scissors in the neck simply physically incapacitating it. A spike to the temple, however, either destroying the interface or allowing access to pull out wires.
I'd opted for the wires. More permanent in my mind, but giving the drone precious seconds to send an SOS.
So, why wasn't the other drone from outside in here?
I cocked my head. And then looked out the window. The late afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky.
It took a second for me to register what was wrong with that picture.
There were no rain clouds. Tranquil blue and pinks and oranges offered a backdrop to the glowing orb as it lowered toward the horizon.
My head spun back towards the door and another boom of thunder rang out.
I smiled. They were here.
And then I was running.
Chapter 40
We Had A Date
Trent
Lee fucking Tan. Lena's long lost, last surviving member of her adopted family, who had been AWOL for almost a week. A Wáikěinese with blue eyes. I still couldn't believe it. I still couldn't believe his cheek.
But I was questioning our luck.
"You go for the Chief Overseer," Tan said. "And my men and I will go for Lena."
"Wrong," I countered. "My men and I will go for Lena. You go for Chew-wen."
He shook his head, steely blue eyes stared out of an angular Wáikěinese face. Or at least, I swear he was Wáikěinese, but his features were a conglomerate of Anglisc and Wáikěinese. Maybe a bit of Mahiah. I was guessing he and Aiko had only been half-siblings. She'd been beautiful and pure Wáikěinese through and through.
"We don't have time for this," Tan insisted, and he was right. The Ohrikee lay fifty metres away, the sun was setting, and the wedding would be under way in the next two hours.
But still...
"Lena is mine," I growled and Alan made a sighing sound from over my shoulder. Which I ignored.
Tan swept those disconcerting blue eyes over my frame and then lifted his brows.
"She is my sister in all but blood," he countered.
"She is..." I started, unsure how to finish that.
Which was basically how it had been since we'd rushed headlong to the location the guy in Muhgah Keekee had given us. Determined to get to Tan before Lena walked down the aisle.
The set-up he had was fairly basic, but solid. We'd been spotted before we'd even made it through the park. Then just as quickly surrounded. Whether Tan had expected us, I don't know. But we didn't offer resistance, our goal to reach the man, not fight our way out.
It had taken five long minutes to be searched for weapons, another three to make our way through the rabbit warren they'd commandeered. And then we were in a tech room, similar to Tehteh's. Si perking up and clenching his fingers in an effort not to reach out and stroke all the vid-screens. Their tech guru had looked competent, but Si had snorted several times before Tan had shown himself. Clearly not impressed with the supposed guru's expertise.
But none of that had mattered, when we were shown into a room off to the side that was clearly a meeting space. And, what do you know, on the concrete floor was painted a zebra. My heart had stuttered inside my chest, my eyes had scanned the area, taking in what Lena's brother could provide her. It wasn't grand, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was by far and away better than what I had.
Lee Tan had walked out of the shadows and eyed us. That piercing blue of his gaze anything but welcoming. Not exactly hostile, but certainly not warm either.
"Tan," I'd said. He'd only nodded. "We need your help."
Someone had snorted in the background; not one of mine.
"Are you going after her?" he'd asked.
"Of course," I'd instantly replied.
"Then I guess you can tag along."
That had set off a round of shouts and snide comments, first from Paul and Emir, and then from several men who'd made their presence known behind Tan. Who had remained as silent as me, watching like I was, but not moving to show our hands.
This wasn't how I'd envisaged raising an army. Coming back from the brink we'd been teetering on and making a stand. I'd known we'd have a long way to go before the war was won. I just hadn't realised that some of the battles along the way would be fought against those on our side.
I'd gone from being a leader of a rebel army to a leader of a few men to the underdog in the fight for our freedom.
My eyes searched his now, as yet another stand-off ensued. For Lena I'd chosen to back down earlier. Now, with her so close I could almost smell the perfume she wore, I wasn't sure I had it in me not to fight.
"I'll go for Lena," I insisted. End of story.
Tan eyed me for another few seconds and then nodded his head.
"Rendezvous here, or back at the bunker," he ordered, making a move to gather his men and advance. "Our intel says her rooms are on the top floor," he offered from over his shoulder.
"We know," I countered. "Been there before."
"Then you shouldn't have any trouble finding her. But keeping her," he added, then shook his head. "I have my doubts."
Screw. Him.
The minute he and his men melted into the twilight I let a ragged breath of air out and slammed my fist into the grass where I was crouched.
"Easy," Alan murmured, only half-arsed, if his tone was anything to go by. "We'll deal with rebel shit once we've got our girl out. You up for this?" he asked, turning his head to look at me.
I nodded. She wasn't staying in there a minute longer.
"You know the route in she advised," I said quietly. "Ready, Si?" I added, for the earpiece.
"Ready, boss," came his instant reply.
I glanced back at Paul and Emir. "Ready?"
Two heads nodded once. Determined
looks on their faces.
"We wait for the first explosion and use the cover to enter Lena's room," I said, repeating our earlier made plans.
"Let's just pray she's been housed in there and not the Chief Overseer's quarters," Emir unhelpfully remarked.
"Idiot," Paul offered, punching him in the arm when I turned to glare at them. "Lena would've cut off his balls before staying there," he added, and offered me a wide toothed smile.
I huffed out a breath, too strung out to really laugh. But Paul was right. At the very least, she'd have played dirty. Now that was my girl. And with that thought I managed to smile.
The first explosion sounded, and we were off running across the road and using the entrance Lena had given us, for the celebration ball, into the back of the Ohrikee. Sliding down the other side of the razor-wire topped brick wall, my jacket already shredded all to hell, I scanned the secret gardens for any drones or their telltale buzz.
The coast was clear, so I whistled.
Alan, Emir and Paul lightly fell, one after the other, to the ground beside me, laser guns out - courtesy of Tan - eyes peeled.
I nodded and we set off in single file to our next safe spot. But the sun was still bright enough to make our entrance known; a drone shouting before we even made it to the first way-station on our predetermined path. Firing off its laser without further warning.
We all hit the dirt, but Emir managed to get the drone between the eyes, and so we were tearing off in the next breath, before it recovered, to another way-stop. This time against the Palace building itself. The sound of the synchronised beating of drone feet reached us from every direction, proving getting in from here would take a miracle.
The explosions Tan's guys were setting off around the other side of the Palace were meant to provide a distraction, allowing us access without too much trouble. Clearly Shiloh had divided her forces, aware of such a tactic and why it might be used. Fighting Cardinals had been tough enough. Fighting a computer was ending up damn near impossible.
"I'm going to have to make it on my own," I suggested to the guys above the whine and hum of lasers. "You lay down cover fire, I'll make a break for it."
Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2) Page 24
