by Haber, Karen
“Seems she went for a little trip. That’s not like her.” He cracked his knuckles meditatively. “Anne, how long has she been gone?”
“Almost a week.”
Skerry swore. “I knew I should have gotten back here sooner. Any messages from Emory Foundation?”
Obediently, Anne replayed Mrs. Emory’s invitation.
“And Narlydda took her up on it?” He shook his head in amazement. “I thought this was supposed to be an overnight visit. Get me Emory Foundation. Ask for Narlydda.”
After a brief pause, Anne responded, “No answer.”
“Try again. Try thirty times if you have to.”
Anne got through on the ninth try.
“They inform me that Narlydda left several days ago.”
“What? Then where is she? Get me that Tavia Emory woman. Tell her it’s the head of the Mutant Council calling.”
“But that’s not true …”
“Do it!” His golden eyes flashed with fury.
Again, Anne was silent. But only for a moment. “I’m sorry. They report that she is ill and unable to come to the screen.”
Skerry frowned. “Hmmm. Strange. And not good strange. Try Rebekah Terling, 7089877767375.”
“Ringing.”
A moment later, Rebekah peered at him. Behind her, a wallscreen showed neat parallel lines of stock quotations in glowing yellow numerals.
“Skerry? I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know. Sorry to interrupt you at work, but it’s important. I want you to tell me anything you can about Emory Foundation.”
“Emory Foundation? Why?”
“Never mind the reason. Didn’t you just go there?”
“Yes. We saw Ashman.”
“And?”
“Why the curiosity now?” she snapped. “You weren’t interested when I asked for your help. But you seem to think it’s fine to interrupt me in the middle of work to badger me with a string of cryptic questions. Honestly, Skerry, I’m getting tired of your games.”
He cut her off. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I was wrong. I was too hasty at the meeting. Come on, Bekah. Tell me.”
“Ashman was friendly, all right. Too friendly. Wants to address both the mutant councils and the union. Said something about presiding.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. What did you do?”
“Stalled for time, but in the end we had to agree. What else could we do?”
Skerry shook his head. “You’re asking for trouble.”
“Well, you certainly seem to be an expert on the topic,” Rebekah said coldly. “Did you call me merely to offer advice?”
“No. Sorry again.” He held up his hands. “I’ve got a friend who may be in trouble at the Emory HQ, Bekah.”
“A mutant friend?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I know her?”
“Not yet.”
Rebekah’s expression softened. “Then I look forward to meeting her. What kind of trouble, Skerry?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What are you going to do?” She gazed at him intently.
“Head for Arizona.”
“That fits in perfectly with our plans.”
He looked at her sharply. “What plans?”
Her eyes were candid as they met his. “The Mutant Council voted that Ashman represents too great a threat to the mutant population.”
“You want me to kill him? No way.” Skerry crossed his arms angrily. “I won’t be the clan executioner. We don’t even know who this guy really is. Or what he is.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything any of us wouldn’t do.”
“No? Then you go kill him! Or have pretty-boy Wade Walters get himself a laser rifle. …”
“Wade thinks we can work with Ashman.”
“Maybe he’s right.”
“I don’t think you believe that for a moment.” Rebekah paused, rubbed her forehead wearily. “Skerry, you know you have special skills that I lack.” Her voice was soft, wheedling. “And I’m worried. Ashman is too dangerous. Too ambitious. It radiates out of him in waves.”
“Mutant paranoia, Bekah. I thought we were waiting eagerly for a supermutant to come set us all free.”
“It’s the wrong time. The wrong man.”
Skerry’s eyes glittered angrily. “Oh yeah? How do we know that?”
“I met him. I know.”
“Subjective. Do you have any proof? No, of course you don’t. Well, drop it for the moment. What about Emory Foundation?”
“Corporate headquarters on the outskirts of the Phoenix/Scottsdale metroplex.” Rebekah shrugged. “Lots of glass and acrylics. Lots of mutants, too.”
Skerry looked at her sharply, “Lots of mutants, did you say?”
Rebekah nodded. “Tavia Emory has a classic case of mutant envy. She’s surrounded herself with mutants. I half expected to see some mutant heads, stuffed and mounted on the wall. She even wears gold contact lenses.”
“Interesting.” Skerry smiled bitterly. “Well, Rebekah, it looks like a trip to Scottsdale has been added to my plans. But I’m not saying I’m going to take this Ashman on.”
“I understand.” She gazed at him for a moment. “Skerry, be careful.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
“Stop fooling around! You know that my concerns are well founded. I’ve been waiting to have a call returned from Tavia Emory for two days. She’s usually the soul of promptness. Especially when it’s mutant business.”
“I don’t think she’s taking any calls right now,” Skerry said. “And don’t worry about me, Bekah. I’ve gotten too old to take stupid chances. But if I see this Emory woman, I’ll ask her to get in touch.”
“Thanks,” Rebecca said drily. “Keep me posted.” She waved and turned back to her stock records. The screen went dark.
Skerry studied Narlydda’s brightly lit studio for a moment. A rose silk robe lay discarded on a cushion. He reached down and gently touched the glossy fabric. “Thanks, Anne.”
“You’re quite welcome. Do you require any further assistance?”
There was no answer. And where he had stood, the sunlight cast bright circles upon the lavender carpet.
“Kelly? Please, say something,” Michael begged. “Anything.”
She stood across from him in the elevator cab, a slim figure in a purple uniform. Her eyes were wide, and the expression on her face was one of chagrin.
“Stop the elevator,” she said quietly. “Let me out.”
“Wait. Just let me talk …”
“Let me out. Stop it.”
Summoning his mutant skills, he slowed the cab until it stopped dead in the shaft. The emergency buzzer blared angrily for a moment, then squawked and was silent. Its red light paled, faded, went out.
Michael waved his hand.” All right, I stopped it. That’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”
The hoped-for smile never materialized. Instead, Kelly thrust her chin out in determination. Her eyes sparkled with anger. “Don’t play mutant games with me, Michael Ryton.”
“This isn’t a game.” He took a step toward her, all playful pretense dropped. “Kelly, listen to me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Go away.” She shrank from him into the corner. The shiny cab walls reflected duplicate Kellys, a multitude, all pulling away from him. “Leave me alone.”
“Kelly, please!” He’d scared her. That hadn’t been his intention at all.
Her voice rose. “I can’t believe this is happening. Let me out.”
Michael felt his telekinetic control slipping. With a groan, the elevator cab lurched, then continued descending to the lobby. The doors slid open.
“Wait,” he said.
“I have nothing to say to you.” She glared at him bitterly, angrily. There was something close to hatred in her eyes. Then she turned and stalked away in the direction of the Shuttle Corps housing.
Michael cursed and reached for her with his mind. Caught her, s
trained to pull her back toward him.
She swung around. Her eyes were blazing.
“Let go of me, Michael!”
Her stride had slowed as though she were caught by an invisible hand.
Michael felt the air heating up between them as she struggled in his telekinetic grip. Her features were contorted in anger and fear.
“Dammit!” She took a step as if moving through molasses. But she couldn’t get free of his pull.
Around them, people stopped to stare.
“Lady, do you want me to call the police?” asked a red-clad messenger with spiked hair to match.
Kelly shook her head. “No.” She stopped struggling. Arms crossed in front of her, she floated a foot off the pavement, watching Michael warily.
“I’ll let you go if you agree to have a drink with me,” he said. “Just a half hour, Kelly. Please.”
“And if I don’t, what are you going to do, keep me here all day?” Her tone was mocking. “I know even telekinetics get tired—you can’t hold me forever.”
“You’re right.” In defeat, he released her.
She took two steps toward him, her hands balled into fists. For a moment, he thought she intended to strike him.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“I just want to talk to you.”
“I repeat that we have nothing to say to each other.”
“And I disagree.”
They stared at one another for a moment. Then Michael smiled.
“Where’s a good place to talk?”
Muscles jerked in her jaw. She took a deep breath as though about to shout him down. But instead, she sighed loudly and turned her back on him. When she spoke, her voice was muffled.
“I don’t know why you won’t leave me alone. You know I don’t want to talk to you, yet you insist.” She shook her head as though conceding defeat. “All right, then. This way.”
He followed her around the back of a hangar and down a steep flight of concrete steps into a half-empty bar below street level. It was dim, cool, and smelled pleasantly of balsam. The walls were lined with gray plank paneling. Each table had its own acoustic baffle shield. Round, silvery mechwaiters circulated. Drinks and hypos glowed atop their lighted trays. The legend above the door said THE OTHER OFFICER’S CLUB in dingy pink coldlights. Kelly selected a table in the darkest corner of the room.
“Bourbon,” Michael said, seating himself next to her.
“In glass or hypo?” the barmech asked.
“Glass.”
“And for the lady?”
“Coffee.” Kelly’s tone was scornful.
Michael felt weary and foolish. She hated him. What was he doing here? Everything he’d wanted to say vanished. They sat in uncomfortable silence, the bar lights blinking around them, until the mech returned with their order.
After a few swallows, Michael felt the amber liquor burn some courage back into him.
Kelly met his gaze defiantly. “Well,” she said. “Talk. It’s your credits. And your half hour.”
“I wish you weren’t so hostile.”
“Michael, I told you I didn’t want to talk to you. So you insisted: trapped me in an elevator, lassoed me in public with your telekinetic tricks. And now you expect me to be gracious when I didn’t want to do this to begin with?” She smiled ironically. “If you think you’re going to get a sympathetic ear, you’re wasting your time. You’re lucky I don’t give you a fat lip.”
Michael felt his own temper flaring. “Look, all I wanted to do was have a quiet drink and talk about old times.”
“Michael, you behaved like an idiot. I’m half tempted to walk out now.” She rose from her seat.
“No, wait. Please. I’m sorry, Kelly. I was just so desperate to talk to you. This whole investigation has gotten me crazy. I forgot where I was. Forgive me.”
She sat down. “All right. Now what in hell do you want from me?”
“Stop treating me as though I’m a convicted criminal. I’m not. Yet.”
“Michael, I shouldn’t even be seen with you.” She leaned toward him. “I’m on the other side, remember?”
Anger gave fresh color to her cheeks. Her blue eyes were bright, just as he’d remembered them. And her lips looked soft. So soft. His anger faded. Michael wanted to lean over and kiss her. He took another sip of bourbon. “What other side?”
“The government is looking for somebody to blame.” She spoke slowly, as though explaining an obvious fact to a sub-normal. “And aerospace contractors are the easiest target. Before they’re through with you, we’ll have ten new laws restricting space engineering.”
“Not if I can help it,” Michael snapped. “But I still don’t see what this has to do with us.”
Kelly laughed shrilly. “Us?” Her tone made the word an obscenity. “Don’t be a fool. The media would just love to get a cozy picture of Michael Ryton, suspected engineer, and Kelly McLeod, hero of Moonstation, sitting here having a drink.”
“Don’t be paranoid. Or melodramatic. I still don’t see why we can’t have a pleasant conversation.”
Kelly sighed and leaned back against the pink padded seat. “Maybe I just don’t want to. Why shouldn’t I be hostile? I don’t give a damn what happens to you. For all I know, it’s your fault that I almost got killed on Moonstation.”
“Don’t talk that way.”
“Is it true, Michael? Was your company to blame?” Her eyes were icy blue lasers, cutting into him.
“No. We were subcontractors. If there was a stress fracture, as I suspect, it occurred in Aubenay’s product, not ours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him as though weighing his response. Then she nodded slowly. “Why haven’t you told the commission that?”
“I’ve tried. They’re not the world’s best listeners once they’ve got their teeth into somebody’s leg; Besides, I’m not anxious to destroy Aubenay. We do a lot of business together, and when this blows over …”
“Blows over?”
Michael grimaced. “Sorry. Poor choice of words. Anyway, I don’t want to alienate Aubenay if I don’t have to.”
Kelly put down her empty cup. “If I were you, I’d worry more about alienating the United States Congress. The subcommittee.”
“It’s too late for that. They’re firmly against the industry and make no bones about showing it. And I’m no magician, Kelly. I really don’t know where the failure occurred in the dome. All I know is that we did the job right, and our product was not to blame.” He emptied his glass and ordered a refill. “What was it like up there, when the dome went?”
“Scary for the first minute or two. Then I got so busy trying to survive that I stopped thinking about how frightened I was.”
“Would you go back up if they let you?”
She considered his question. After a moment she smiled slightly. “Yes.”
“Good.” He took a sip from his newly replenished glass. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
She gestured in a mock bow. “You have the floor.”
“Kelly … I’ve missed you.”
“Missed me? For fifteen years?”
Michael plowed on earnestly. “The marriage to Jena was a stupid mistake. I didn’t know what I was doing—I never should have agreed to it.”
“This is all ancient history. Why bring it up now?” She glared at him. “And next you’ll be telling me she doesn’t understand you.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.” He smiled bitterly. “I’d say she doesn’t have any interest in understanding me.”
Kelly shook her head. “You want me to feel sorry for you. But I don’t. You treated me dreadfully. You got what you deserved. Jena was in love with her mirror as far back as high school. If she loves herself more than she does you, well, that should come as no surprise.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry, Kelly. For everything that happened. It was a bad time. And I made a bad decision.”
<
br /> “We all make bad decisions occasionally.” She smiled as though at some private joke. “The trick is to survive them. At least you have a family. A center. All I have is the shuttle service. Space.”
“You could have married.”
She laughed. “No thank you. Marry some dedicated space jockey who I’d visit occasionally between missions? I don’t think so. I’ve seen too many of those kinds of marriages.” She turned a hard gaze upon him. “So be grateful for what you do have. It’s a little late for regrets, anyway. What about your daughter?”
“Herra? Just like her mother.”
“You know, I really hated Jena.” Kelly leaned back. Her eyes were focused on some far-away memory. “I saw her once, in town, before the baby came. I was home on vacation from school. She didn’t see me. She was so beautiful. So blond and glittering, even seven months pregnant. I felt like she’d stolen my life. My future. And in a way, she did.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” She met his gaze steadily. The anger in her face was gone, replaced by a deeper, sadder emotion. “Michael, I never wanted to see you again.”
“I know.” It was a whisper. Michael watched the soft lighting glow upon her cheeks. He ached to hold her. “Blame me.”
“I do.”
He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t remember you being this blunt before.”
“Thank the service for it. Bullshit is only required when dealing with the brass.” Her expression softened. “I didn’t think I could ever forgive you. I don’t know if I will. But I’m sorry you’re in this mess, Michael. I hope you come out of it in one piece.” She looked down at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll walk you …”
“No. Don’t. Please.”
He watched her leave, a slim, uniformed figure moving away quickly—too quickly—as though eager to get as far from him as possible. Then he signaled for another bourbon.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
.
Yosh put down his claviflute and turned toward the dark-haired young woman standing in his doorway. He’d seen her earlier onscreen, with that bald woman from Cable News, talking to Tavia. She looked familiar. He studied her now as she stood before him. Loose yellow silk tunic and leggings, soft leather sandals. Bright blue eyes. Soft brown hair fashionably cut. He smiled.
