by Sonya Clark
Tuyet studied the filmmaker, taking in details. How the more she’d spoken about her passions, the more confident she’d become. As if declaring her beliefs made them stronger. Whereas she’d been nervous before, Paula now met her eyes, unflinching. Unbowed.
The Magic Born needed as much of that as they could get, at least as much as they needed food. And the protesters too. The women who marched every Friday, carrying signs, thinking about children taken from them by the Magic Laws. Or like in Paula’s case, the women too afraid to risk having a child. Maybe Jason had a point when he talked about controlling the narrative. The Magic Born had no rights. Normals who supported them had been shouted down for decades. Maybe it was time for the two groups to have their say.
“Have you tried having someone take the videos out of town, uploading them from somewhere else?” It would be the simplest solution, but knowing how the domestic surveillance worked, Tuyet didn’t expect much better results.
Paula nodded. “Three times. In each instance, the time it took for the content to be blocked got shorter.”
Tuyet wasn’t surprised. “What about the darknet?”
“I’ve heard of it but I don’t know anything about it. I tried asking a couple of people and all they could tell me was where to go to buy drugs. Jason had to guide me through finding a chat room where I could upload the videos.”
“Give me some time to figure out if I can get your stuff uploaded. Then I’ll talk to people, see who all would be willing to be interviewed. I’ll get in touch with you through Jason. If you have any problems, go to him.”
Paula seemed taken aback, as if she’d been ready to keep arguing her case. “How long do you think it will be?”
“A few days. Maybe a week. Just sit tight, don’t try to upload anything else, at home or anywhere else. Maybe start a new project, something related to music. Another band documentary, maybe. Anything as long as it’s something harmless.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
Tuyet rose to leave. Paula grabbed her sleeve. “You never told me your name.”
The name fell from Tuyet’s lips before she could even think about it. “Tina Jones.”
Paula smiled. “Thank you, Tina.”
The house band was playing “Soul Eyes” as she left. A certain shade of blue fell like a waterfall through her mind, coalescing into a river that led straight to Dale Hayes. Why had she used that name? This particular glamour bracelet? She shouldn’t even still have the damned thing. She should have destroyed it years ago, instead of holding on to it like some kind of talisman. Now she was stuck with it.
Memories assailed her. So many moments stolen under the guise of their married cover story. In private they were careful, so very careful, to give each other a wide berth in hotel rooms and apartments, both afraid to cross a line. But in public they shamelessly used their cover as a married couple to hold hands, to walk arm in arm, to hold each other close as they danced. And to kiss. Intense. Passionate. Pouring everything they couldn’t say, couldn’t acknowledge, everything they wanted and knew they couldn’t have, into the kind of kisses that made others look away, cough nervously, kick them out of restaurants.
A driving rain greeted her as she exited the building. Streetlights were smears of color painted on the night. Saturday night crowds thronged the Midtown entertainment district despite the downpour. Tuyet melted into the sea of people, letting it carry her to the nearest subway station. She made a point of not examining her reflection in the glass and chrome of the train car. Tina Jones needed to be in the past. As soon as she was done with Paula, she would destroy the bracelet.
Three blocks from home, Tuyet ducked into an alley to remove the jewelry. Magic shivered across her skin as the glamour dissipated. Her breath caught at the electric sensation, so like a lover’s touch. She squeezed her eyes shut against it.
Hayes was waiting for her, sitting in the hall with his back to her door.
Her muscles tensed. “I thought I told you to go home.”
“I did, but then I came back.” He stood and moved out of the way so she could unlock the door. “We need to talk.”
“Look, it’s late and I’m tired. Can’t you hassle me tomorrow?” Tuyet entered the apartment, not bothering to try to keep him out. She knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Sure enough, he followed and closed the door behind him. “Okay, don’t get mad.”
“Famous last words of a fool. You really want to do this now?” She found a towel and squeezed water from her hair to keep it from dripping.
He held up his hands in a placating gesture, then dropped them. Scratched the stubble on his chin. Nodded his head. Ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Dale.”
“Fine! Okay, I sort of bugged you.”
Tuyet let out a slow, controlled sigh. “Like I said, I’m really tired. You’re gonna have to come back tomorrow for your ritual beating.” He might deserve a beating now, but what Silver Wheels had said about how Hayes viewed their physical fights as foreplay struck her. Silver Wheels wasn’t wrong. The last thing she needed was Hayes turned on, and trying to get her turned on too.
He reached for her as his mouth curved into a sinful smile. “Now, honey, hear me out.”
She slapped his hand away, the brief contact setting a flash fire under her skin. “Don’t you honey me, you jackass. Where’s the bug?” The towel slipped from her hands and fell to the floor, forgotten.
“It’s just a little nanofiber thing on the back of your jacket.”
She removed the jacket in jerky motions and threw it at his head. “Get your damn bug and get out.”
“Ow!” He let the jacket fall to the floor and rubbed his left cheek. “I think a button hit me.”
“My fist is next.”
He winked. “Thanks but I’m more of a bondage kind of guy.”
Images tumbled through her mind, dirty and sweet. She grabbed on to the white-hot rage that bubbled underneath and pushed the images away. “Get. Out.”
He raised his hands in supplication. “Okay, clearly I’ve upset you.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“I’ll leave. But first I have to tell you something.”
“The best thing you could tell me right now is goodbye.” It was the meanest thing she could think to say. She hated it, but she wanted him to leave. Needed him to leave.
“You don’t mean that.” He dropped his hands, pain flickering in his blue gaze.
She couldn’t handle the look in his eyes. “Good night, then. I don’t want to fight with you tonight.”
He stalked closer. “Then don’t. Just listen.”
“Make it quick. I want a shower before bed.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s a happy thought.”
“Dale, I swear to God.”
“The FBI’s domestic surveillance unit doesn’t have trancehackers anymore. After you left, Special Forces Command almost lost every Magic Ranger unit. The administration was paranoid about the public finding out the government still used witchcraft. Every program went under intensive review. The Rangers got to stay active, but pretty much only because those units are dedicated to overseas missions. There is no more authorized use of domestic witchcraft by the U.S. government.”
How many laws was he breaking just telling her that? Some of the tension eased in her muscles. “The key word here being authorized.”
“I know, I thought the same thing. But then I had another thought.”
Tuyet crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m listening.”
“How many of our missions overseas were against foreign corporations? At least as many as against foreign governments. If foreign corporations are using witchcraft, there’s no way American companies aren’t. Think about it. The only people
who can get past the DNA testing are ones rich enough to bribe a DMS doctor. The same ones rich enough to run companies. My research on the ordinance showed huge support from Jennings AgriCorp and some other big name companies in the region.”
“You did your own research? How did that go?”
He ignored the implied insult. “If a high-profile law they so heavily supported turns out to be a disaster, how’s that going to look for these companies? I’m not saying it’s definitely not the FBI or NSA, just that they aren’t the only ones who could be capable of this. Some of these same big companies that supported the law could have secret witches on the payroll, or even in the boardroom. If they’re working to keep those videos from getting out, either they’re being used or they’re trying to protect themselves. Any number of things could be going on.”
Sometimes it seemed like everything noxious in the universe sprouted from the confluence of money and power. But then she thought of Jason and all the good work he did and knew the problem was more complicated than that. Maybe it was fear and corruption that were the true culprits, and money and power just maximized the damage.
Right then another worry presented itself. “What are you going to do with the information you heard?”
Hayes stared at the floor for nearly a full minute before answering. “Nothing. You know that.” His blue eyes burned as he looked at her.
She knew that look. It was both a declaration and a warning sign. They couldn’t be alone when he looked at her like that. It was an intensity reserved for public moments as Mr. and Mrs. Jones, when the glamours and the cover stories gave her a place to hide. In this small space with just the two of them, there was nowhere to go.
So she pretended the only desire she felt was for a shower and sleep, and she took refuge in teasing humor. “I told you you’d never take me in.” She gave him a smile full of smug presumption.
He laughed. “You’re awfully confident I’ll ignore my orders for you no matter what.”
“I think you and I both know who’s really in charge here.”
“Yeah, and that would be me.”
Hayes closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands. Caressed his thumbs gently across her cheeks. She didn’t lean into him but she didn’t pull away either. He stalked her mouth with his, their lips so close his breath teased her skin and fanned an old spark, threatening to send it bursting into flame. Another hair’s breadth closer. She shivered. Another.
He curled one hand around her nape. With the fingers of the other, he traced the contours of her bone structure, barely skimming the surface of her skin. Her body vibrated with tension. Need. She wanted him to leave. She wanted him to stay. She wanted everything.
He smiled again and whispered, lips so close to hers that her mouth burned from the slight hint of contact. “You can even call me ‘sir’ if you want.”
Tuyet jerked her head away and slammed her hands into his chest. “Get out!”
He laughed his way to the door. “See you tomorrow, Snow.”
Chapter Twelve
The blue-white lines of data pathways glowed in the darkness of cyberspace. Tuyet found the link to the online multiplayer version of Silver Wheels and logged on. Few were gaming this early on a Sunday morning. She wasn’t here to play so she didn’t care. Her log-in name and avatar sent an alert to Silver Wheels himself. If he could meet, he’d arrive soon. If not he’d send an instant message. In the meantime, Tuyet waited on the obstacle track.
Dozens of motorcycles, many of them concept bikes that would never be seen on the streets, had been meticulously recreated for both regular game play and the speed and obstacle tracks. Tuyet chose a concept bike that gleamed scarlet and chrome in the glossy black. It had been a while since she’d been in the game, so she started out with a few turns around the speed track. Satisfied her ability to handle the bike hadn’t slipped, she moved on to the urban obstacle course. Designed using street maps from metropolises all over the world, it was coded to randomize the layout so it wouldn’t be possible for a player to simply memorize the route and beat the game that way. Silver Wheels wanted players to earn it.
Tuyet had one advantage though. She knew every city because she’d been in every one with her old Ranger team. Much like a game of Name That Tune, she liked to play Name That City as she ran the course. Frankfurt, Hong Kong, Tashkent, Nairobi, and a dozen others sped by as she pushed the bike to top speed through curves and tunnels and traffic snarls. Somewhere in Rio she picked up a tail. She gunned it into high gear and used a cheat code to slip through an alley, coming out into Paris at night.
A beautifully rendered replica of the arch bridge Pont Neuf was the game’s Paris centerpiece. She waited there, the bike’s engine idling. The colors of her lotus avatar glowed against the ancient stone and the silvery water below. A full moon above created a spotlight on her location. Tuyet laughed. One of the many Easter eggs in this game created by a witch was that every night was a full moon.
The unmistakable growl of a V10 Panther Ultrabike announced the arrival of Silver Wheels. His mirrorball helmet avatar added another dimension of color to the shimmering cyberspace night.
“Look at you all bright and shiny,” he said. “Hayseed must be treating you right.”
“If you mean by annoying me to death, sure.”
The mirrorball helmet flashed through a bevy of colors. “Be nice to my boy, Caron.”
Tuyet wondered if her own avatar could blush. “We’re not here to talk about my love life.”
“Your love life?” Silver Wheels laughed. “Just the fact that you’d mention Hayes and your love life in the same conversation makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I’m rooting for you two crazy kids. Rootin’ hard.”
She ignored the remark and got down to business, telling him about Paula Martin, her videos, her trouble getting them viewed and the competing theories of government or corporate censorship.
“What he told you about the government and domestic witchcraft is true.” Silver Wheels sounded thoughtful. “I’ve had some suspicions about corporate witchcraft but I’ve been too busy to look into it. Sounds like I need to make the time.”
“I’m going to do my own research too. Starting with Jennings AgriCorp and any other big corporation that supported the ordinance.”
“Start uploading some of those videos into the private forum. I’ll see where else I can send them.” The helmet flared a bright ruby, then a deep sapphire before returning to its customary diamond. He revved the V10’s engine, the sound pure predatory speed.
“Halif,” she said. “Do you want me to tell him?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. No, I don’t. It’s enough that he’s covering for one of us. I don’t want to ask him for more than he’s willing to give.”
“Are you still afraid of your body winding up in a lab?”
When Halif finally found her and revealed his identity, he’d talked about that fear. He’d been trancing deep when he was shot. The shock to his system left him trapped in the target’s intranet until he returned to full awareness. Eventually he figured out how to make the jump to cyberspace and when he did, everything changed for him. For the first time in his life, he was free.
“It’s not that,” he said. “I know he wouldn’t betray me.”
“Then what is it?”
His avatar returned to a shimmering deep sapphire. “You call me Halif, and that’s okay. I don’t mind. But it’s not who I am anymore. I’m not that same person.” A broken laugh slipped out. “I’m not sure if I’m even a person at all anymore. I don’t know what I am.”
The game’s moonlig
ht grew watery as she blinked away tears in realspace. “You’re my friend. That’s all I need to know. I can’t imagine Hayes feeling any different.”
“Tell you what. He finally makes a decision, then we’ll see.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He loves you, Caron. He’s not going back to the Rangers. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He sped away, leaving her feeling like he’d dropped a bomb in her lap.
Tuyet didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Didn’t know what she wanted to believe. The best thing for Hayes would be to convince Talbot that she was in the wind, nowhere to be found. Then go back to his nice, quiet, safe existence.
An existence that he probably hated and was bored to tears with. She’d certainly feel that way stuck behind a desk. Even so, he had his freedom. She wouldn’t ask him to be a fugitive with her.
It was the right thing to do; she was certain of it. She checked the time—still another two hours before her meeting with Vadim and the others. She pushed a burst of energy into the bike and returned to the course. Virtual streets were a blur. Landmarks and monuments bled into the background. Faster and faster she went, outrunning the past, the present and most of all, the future.
* * *
Tuyet placed her coffee cup on the table and met Vadim’s suspicious gaze. “I’ve seen her work. Paula’s very good, and an expert at hiding the identity of her interview subjects.” Every cell in her body wanted to look away. She fought the urge and maintained eye contact.
Vadim leaned forward. “How nice. That way instead of targeting just one person in FreakTown, they can tear the whole place apart.”
“It’s possible it’s not the government that’s blocking the content when she uploads.”
