Seeds

by Chris Mandeville

  “Kakógo chërta. Why there?”

  “Seeds. Am I to lose everyone I love to that bewitched pursuit? Creighton should have come to me, or Kennedy should have talked them out of it.”

  Olexi shook his head. “You know your daughter.”

  “Right, right, I’ve heard it—she has her own mind, Kennedy couldn’t stop her. Sorry, but that’s not good enough. I’d have tied them up in the cargo hold, or told the Democracy they’d committed murder—anything to prevent my children from going to San Clemente.”

  “You have a point,” Olexi said. “But Kennedy’s still a good man.”

  “I know you’re his fan,” Nikolai said. “Forgive me if I’m not.”

  “It’s your children—no forgiveness necessary.”

  “Not even for how I treated you, old friend?”

  “Much water has flowed by. Let’s say we forget it.” Olexi clapped him on the shoulder, and Nikolai felt an immense sense of relief.

  “Shall we forget with a cider?”

  Olexi grinned. “Perhaps more than one.”

  Forty-Nine

  Southern California, the next morning

  Reid scratched the stubble on his face, wishing he could shave, but if he was going to see Mia, he had to let it grow. “What do you think, Pops? Do we trust her?”

  “It’s risky. But what’s not?”

  “I’m open to other ideas.” Reid meant it, though he wanted to see her again.

  “If we can’t blend in, that limits our options. How sure are you about that?”

  “Not completely sure. I mean, it’s not like people here look like they’re from another planet, but Mia said it’s obvious I’m an outsider. Especially when I talk. And there’s all sorts of stuff that was totally foreign to me. She said there are pirates.”

  “Who’d have thought so much of a difference would evolve between Colorado and here. Then again, Los Angeles always was a different kind of place.”

  “It’s funny, I’d swear Mia called it Lost Angeles.”

  “Lost? Huh. Well, maybe that fits.” Tinker rubbed his eyes and stretched. “So you said they have trains. What about cars?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, the fact is, they already have power. I was hoping to barter, to trade something for the seeds, like how to convert warheads.”

  “They have power, but maybe not cars.”

  “True, they could be interested in that technology. But we can’t go in revealing our whole hand. If they want the Hummer, what’s to stop them from taking it?”

  “Good point. Mia made it sound worse than back home, but all we have is her word.”

  Tinker scratched his chin. “Only way to know for sure what we’re dealing with is to get intel firsthand. So the question is, with Mia or on our own?”

  Reid pictured Mia and his heart skipped remembering that kiss.

  “You met the girl,” Tinker continued. “What’s your gut tell you?”

  “To go to Mia.” Reid thought it was his gut, but it could very well be another part of his anatomy. He just hoped it wouldn’t lead them into trouble they couldn’t get out of.

  Fifty

  Lost Angeles

  “You’re early,” Pascal said. “Tea?”

  “No thanks,” Linus said, fidgeting. “How is Mother? Will she see me?”

  “First things first. I want to know what you learned while I was away. How about breakfast while we talk?”

  “All right, if you want.” The boy managed to keep most of the dejection from his voice. “But it won’t take long.”

  From the look on Linus’s face, the idea of sitting through breakfast had been almost too much for him. But he’d handled it well. Pascal glanced at his watch. It was late enough. He wouldn’t torture the boy. “Breakfast isn’t necessary. Tell me what you found out.”

  “When Mother is in town, Van Hooten usually goes to her house every other day. But lately it’s more often, sometimes twice a day.”

  “Interesting.”

  “There’s more. This one junior nurse I’ve been talking to—Jenna—she said it seems like whenever Mother starts to get better, suddenly she gets worse again, always right after Van Hooten visits.”

  “Jenna noticed that?”

  “She agreed when I pointed it out.” Linus scowled. “I wish I knew what Van Hooten was doing. No one knows. He won’t allow anyone in the room, and Mother’s chart only says ‘treatments.’ I know he’s hurting her.”

  “You’re convinced?”

  “Totally. But I couldn’t figure out why.”

  Pascal frowned. He hadn’t expected the boy to look beyond the surface. “Sometimes motivation remains a mystery.”

  “No, I figured it out.”

  Pascal relaxed. Linus had filled in the blanks himself. “Go on.”

  “I kept thinking about it, why he’d want to hurt her. Then I remembered—more than a few times he’s been at her house at weird hours. Late at night, I’d come out of my room and he’d be there. A few times he snuck out the back door, looking around like he didn’t want anyone to see him.”

  “And you think what? That they were a couple?” That would be a laugh.

  “No, I think he wanted to, but Mother didn’t. He’d be humiliated, enough to want revenge. Or maybe Mother threatened to tell his wife, and he’s trying to keep her quiet.”

  “Do you think he would go so far as to kill her?”

  “Yes—we have to protect her! You should forbid him to be her doctor.”

  “You know your mother. She is accustomed to getting what she wants. If I forbid Van Hooten to be her doctor, how do you think she will react?” He raised his hands in question, letting Linus make the conclusion himself. “Son, do yourself a favor and consider very carefully before you get involved with a woman who’s that headstrong and independent.”

  “Okay, then we’ll have to convince her to fire him. If I could talk to her, I know I could make her see reason.”

  Good luck with that, even if she were conscious.

  “Please,” Linus continued. “You’ve got to get me in to see her. I know you can.”

  Pascal placed his hand on Linus’s shoulder. “Your mother and I have our differences, and I know she guards her autonomy fiercely, but I couldn’t live with myself if I did nothing when her life may be in danger. The least I can do is get you in to see her.”

  “Thank you, Father!” Linus hugged him.

  Pascal embraced him, remembering the days when Linus would impulsively leap into his arms. “Of course, son. Of course I’ll do whatever is in my power. In fact, let’s go right now. I’ll make sure she agrees to see you.”

  “You were right about Van Hooten all along. Promise we won’t let him get away with it.”

  “I promise.”

  They took the short walk to the spa at a brisk clip. Pascal’s heart swelled at his son’s ferocity and determination, and he was glad Linus was too focused on getting there to notice the pride on his face.

  Linus flung open the front doors and stormed in like he owned the place. Pascal stayed a few paces behind to give his son a moment to assert his power.

  “I demand to see my mother,” Linus told the woman at the reception desk. “Now.”

  “I’m sorry but I have strict orders she’s to have no visitors,” the woman said.

  “I don’t care! I need to talk to her.” Linus turned to him, pleading. “Father?”

  Pascal stepped forward, knowing he’d get no argument, but wanting to put on a good show for Linus. “My son needs to see his mother. I am the Chancellor. You don’t have the authority to keep us out.” He pounded the counter for effect.

  The nurse shrugged. “Then I guess there’s nothing I can do.”

  “What room is she in?” Pascal demanded.

  A perky teenaged girl in a junior nurse’s uniform appeared at Pascal’s elbow. “Sir, I can take you.” She exchanged a meaningful look with Linus. “Follow me. She’s right down this hall.”

&nbs
p; Pascal assumed the girl was Jenna and hung back to give Linus a moment. He joined them at Maybelline’s door where they were huddled with their heads together.

  “Father, Jenna says Van Hooten visited Mother late last night.”

  “Oh?” Pascal crafted a look of surprise and concern. “How has she been since then?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” Jenna said. “I just came on duty.”

  “Let’s find out.” Linus pushed open the door.

  Maybelline was on her back in bed, eyes closed, mouth open, a withered version of herself.

  “Mother!” Linus dashed over and took her hand. “It’s me. Wake up.”

  Jenna circled to the other side of the bed and shook Maybelline’s arm. “Miss Kagawa, can you hear me?”

  Maybelline didn’t stir.

  “Oh my God, she’s not . . . no, she can’t be, her hand’s warm.” Emotion clogged Linus’s voice. “Why won’t she wake up?”

  She’d better not wake up.

  “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.” Jenna’s voice oozed compassion. Her crush on Linus was going to prove useful.

  “Jenna,” Pascal said. “We need your help.”

  “Anything, sir.”

  “If someone wanted to hurt Ms. Kagawa and did something to cause this, how would he do it? Assuming he’s smart and doesn’t want to get caught.”

  “Gosh, there are lots of ways.” Jenna frowned and bit her lip. “I guess the most likely would be a drug, like a sedative.”

  “How would he administer that? A pill?”

  “If she was awake. Otherwise, an injection.”

  “Has she had injections? Can you tell?”

  “I checked her chart because I wondered why she doesn’t have an I.V. We usually inject meds directly into the I.V. line, but without it we go through the skin, usually the arm.”

  “Did the chart say she’d been given any shots?” Linus asked.

  “That’s the weird thing,” Jenna said. “It didn’t list any medication at all. Not even the vitamins she always takes when she’s here.”

  “Van Hooten probably gives her all kinds of stuff without recording it,” Linus said. “He’s in here by himself. He can do whatever he wants and no one knows the difference.”

  “If he gave injections, I might be able to tell.” Jenna ran her finger along the inside of Maybelline’s arm.

  “What’s that?” Linus pointed to the crook of Maybelline’s elbow.

  Jenna leaned over, her face inches from Linus’s. “It looks like a puncture. Here’s another spot that could be one, too.”

  “He can’t be her doctor anymore,” Linus growled. “I don’t care about her wishes. I’m her son and I say he can’t see her.”

  “You’re right,” Pascal said. “We’ll get your mother out of this spa and to the hospital for proper care. I’ll station guards at her door, and I’ll handpick staff we can trust. Jenna, I’d like for you accompany her and be her personal nurse. I’ll make the arrangements.” Of course, Maybelline would probably not make it to the hospital alive, but he had to let the little drama play out. “Don’t worry, son. Van Hooten will be suspended pending an investigation.”

  “I already did an investigation and we know he’s guilty.” The veins bulged at Linus’s temples. “You make the rules. He’s guilty and he has to be punished.”

  “One thing at a time, son. I’ll go take care of the transfer to the hospital.”

  “I’m staying right by her side to make sure nothing happens to her.” Linus held his mother’s hand with the fierce loyalty of a child and the conviction of the man he was becoming.

  This would indeed shape him, and Pascal was pleased with how it was unfolding.

  “Good, yes, you stay with her, Linus. When the transport team comes, accompany her to the hospital. I have to go into the office for a few hours, but I’ll be over to see you this afternoon.” Pascal turned to leave, but changed his mind. His son would soon experience the grief of losing a mother. For now, he should revel in a victory. “You do know that your actions saved your mother’s life.”

  Linus looked at him with full eyes. “Yeah?”

  “What do you think, Jenna? Would she survive another of Van Hooten’s ‘treatments’?”

  Jenna shook her head.

  “I agree,” Pascal said. He took Linus by both shoulders. “I’m proud of you. Very proud.”

  Fifty-One

  The Pacific Ocean, aboard the Emancipation

  “I like it. I think it will work,” Kennedy said.

  “Olexi and I were inspired over cider last night.” Nikolai rubbed at the dull ache behind his forehead. Perhaps less cider would have been better. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

  “So that’s why you brought so many barrels.” Kennedy grinned.

  Nikolai wasn’t sure if Kennedy was referring to the inspiration or the plan. “Do you know where the pirates’ boundary lies? It may have changed since I was here last.”

  “Not for certain, but they’ve been spotted as far north as thirty-four degrees.”

  “Then we should make ready.”

  “I agree. Would you see to the crew while I finish here?”

  Nikolai held back a smile. “Right away, Captain. I’ve never liked sitting by with my arms folded.”

  Fifty-Two

  Lost Angeles, the Grand Hotel

  Reid kept his head down, trying not to show the awe he felt. He’d never seen anything so magnificent. Enormous chandeliers with glowing bulbs shaped like flames. Red- and gold-patterned carpet so elaborate it could be framed as art. Dark wood tables and leather sofas. Fancy people drinking from fancy glasses in front of a huge stone fireplace.

  If it weren’t for a couple of other guys who looked as grubby as he did, he’d have left. But no one acted like they didn’t belong, so he gathered his courage and shuffled to the sign that read “Reception” where a freckled girl in a navy blue suit flashed a toothy smile.

  “Welcome to the Grand, sir. My name is Devon. How may I help you today?”

  “I’m here to see Mia,” he mumbled, hoping he sounded like everyone else.

  “Very good. Your voucher?”

  He gave her Mia’s card. It was bent and dirty from so much handling, one thing that hadn’t needed fabrication.

  “Follow me,” Devon said.

  He couldn’t believe it was that easy. He’d been worried for nothing.

  The girl held open a door. “Here you are. Enjoy your stay.”

  In the next room, instead of Mia he found a well-groomed man in a blue suit.

  “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Logan. Please empty your pockets and place all belongings here.” He indicated a clear plastic bin.

  What? He wasn’t giving up his stuff. “Excuse me?” He’d forgotten to mumble.

  “It’s required for all appointments.”

  “My bag?” The gun he’d worked so hard to find was in it.

  “Everything. It will be returned unmolested upon your departure. Many new guests feel similarly, but it’s a perfectly safe and normal procedure, I assure you.”

  Reid placed his pack in the bin.

  “Your clothing, too,” Logan said. “Anything you wish to keep, put in the bin. Otherwise . . .” He pointed to a large trashcan. “After you shower, you’ll receive new clothes.”

  They were making him shower? The trashcan was half-full of dirty clothes, so apparently that’s what they made everyone do, or at least the dirty pirates. It would be nice to get cleaned up before Mia saw him, but it did seem excessive.

  He put his boots and belt in the bin with his pack. The grimy T-shirt, jeans and socks went in the trash. The man looked pointedly at Reid’s underwear. Apparently, those had to go, too.

  The guy didn’t seem particularly interested in his privates, but Reid held his hands over the shrunken parts anyway.

  “You shower here.” He held a door for Reid.

  Reid went through, hoping the guy didn’t get off seeing his naked butt.

&nb
sp; The shower was more grand than any he’d ever seen. The pristine white alcove had showerheads everyplace imaginable. He turned a lever and hot pulsing water hit him from all sides. Forget Mia, seeds, Kayla, his mission. He wanted to stay in the shower forever.

  “Stay in as long as you like, sir,” a woman’s voice said.

  Were they reading his mind? He covered himself and turned. The grandmotherly woman kept her gaze on his face, but his parts still objected to the lack of privacy.

  “Logan said you’re new, so I came to tell you the soap comes out of that dispenser.” She pointed to a fixture. “Here’s your towel.” She hung it from a hook. “But take your time. I’ll be outside whenever you’re ready.”

  He squirted soap from the dispenser and lathered up his head and body with suds that smelled like fruit cocktail, only better. After rinsing, he reluctantly turned off the water and wrapped himself in the enormous towel. He stepped into the next room, where the woman waited as promised.

  “Hello again,” she said kindly. “Would you like a robe?”

  Reid wrapped the heavy white robe around himself before removing the towel.

  “Sit right here.” She indicated a chair with oversized arms and a footrest that reminded him of the dentist’s chair back home. “Relax. We’ll take care of everything.”

  Reid wondered what “everything” was. These people seemed to have an obsession with cleanliness and grooming.

  More women entered. One sat on a low stool in front of him and tended to his feet. Another rubbed his hands with oil up to his elbows and trimmed his nails.

  The grandmotherly woman trimmed his hair, then placed a hot towel on the lower part of his face.

  “Ready for your shave, sir?”

  No one had ever shaved him but him. It was weird, but nice too. He could get used to it.

  When she finished, he rinsed his face at the sink. She handed him a toothbrush and some green liquid. It was almost as potent as tequila, but it made his teeth clean and minty.