Senescence (Jezebel's Ladder Book 5)

by Scott Rhine

  The reception was simulcast on at least three networks, including National Geographic and Oxygen. Four other individuals the ambassador had invited to Sanctuary during his globetrotting also attended. With all the celebrities present, the cameras still focused on Stu. Some of the staff had leaked bits overheard from his practice for the UN speech, so he spent most of the evening dodging questions on that topic.

  At the appointed hour, the DJ handed Stu a microphone and fixed a spotlight on him. Stu thanked the school for attending. “I wanted you all to meet my new bride, Laura. Doesn’t she look like an angel?” This earned her an ovation. He paused, gazing at her. “She was my fiercest defender, my first kiss, and my tour guide on this adventure known as Earth.” He raised his glass to toast her.

  The entire student body said, “Aw” at the same time.

  The sincerity of his admiration overwhelmed Laura, and she had to mop moisture from the corners of her eyes with a custom napkin. Once she had the microphone, she was at a loss. She hadn’t prepared anything. She just looked at him. “My father couldn’t be here tonight for legal reasons. I’ve never met him, but he helped to train Stewart in several ways to be the honorable man he is today. That is the best wedding gift I could have asked for.”

  This earned Stu a round of applause, too.

  Laura opened the gifts to protect Stu from possible infection, but he would say something nice about each. Most gifts were modest: pajamas, beach towels, china, or business cards with their names and the embassy address. The Brazilian national soccer team sent an autographed ball. The Dalstroms bought Laura a digital locket the size of a postage stamp.

  Oleander explained, “Your mother and the Nemesis helped. When you open the locket, the left side holds every childhood photo of Stu and you we could locate. The other side contains photos of the two of you together.”

  “It’s perfect!” Laura put the piece of high-tech jewelry on immediately.

  The crew of Ballbusters offered Stu a purple heart from their collection of medals, for his constant caring and the bruises he had sustained in the pursuit of love. The second bag from the crew contained a hodgepodge of household items. As soon as she spotted the theme, Laura folded the bag shut without a word.

  Stu blurted, “Whipped cream and strawberry jam? I like picking strawberries, but why do we need a feather duster for dessert?”

  Artemis fell out of her chair laughing.

  Kieran purchased them season passes to the botanical gardens, a picnic basket with fine wine, and a Get Out of Jail Free card from an old Monopoly game.

  All the while, Laura struggled to project grace and gratitude.

  As her wedding gift, Kaguya sang a lullaby from the platinum album she wrote for her daughter— Hymns to Uzume. Then she presented an ancient samurai sword to Stu with a kneeling bow. “We are family. Our arms are yours, for love and defense. We are united.”

  When Stu stepped forward to accept the weapon, Laura worried that he wouldn’t know what to do. However, Conrad Zeiss had trained him well. He drew the katana and executed a credible kata with it. He nicked his finger on the blade before returning the blade to its sheath. Stu returned a bow to Kaguya as he kissed her on the head. “You are my mother now. My home is yours. Your daughter’s wishes become my driving ambition.”

  Before Kaguya could bring out the last gift, Stu announced, “As of eleven local time, I web-released a comprehensive index of the technology available to the members of the UN who acknowledge my country, beginning with the cure for multi-talent male syndrome.” He explained the difficulties inherent in his own birth and the way Dr. Baatjies, the mad criminal genius, had resolved them. “Then Laura convinced me that if we wouldn’t want our children at risk, no one’s should be. So I included the following technical presentation with the broadcast.” On the wall, a projection of Dr. Lena Maurier and Laura explained the principles of the treatment with 3D genetic-modeling software.

  Near the end, Laura leaned over to Kaguya backstage, keyed her security-issued media blocker, and whispered in Japanese, “He gave this away so the prison would free the remaining Antarctic Tern.” She turned the media blocker back off immediately because of feedback in the auditorium sound system.

  Kaguya pulled back, tears forming in her eyes. When she could speak, she said in English, “If that boy can walk tomorrow, you didn’t thank him enough.” Unfortunately, the comment broadcast to the entire arena.

  Stu blushed, and the audience gave him a standing ovation.

  The woman at Kaguya’s side said, “Well, I can’t follow that. We’re already ten minutes over. You can give it to them tomorrow.” No one else could hear her over the cheering. Stu’s Aunt Mary faded into the shadows, followed by Luca Maurier.

  Tango music blared over the speakers, and much to Laura’s surprise, Stu led her in a decent dance. He was stiff and overly precise, but the man knew how to move his hips and dip. “Who taught you how to tango, your father?”

  “Dad refused to dance without Mum,” Stu replied. “Risa and Herk taught me all the Latin steps. I miss the two of them.”

  On the other side of the stage, Kieran Llwellyn raised his glass in a toast, followed by the entire student body. He bid goodnight to the couple and signaled the exit music.

  ****

  “Peace at last.” Laura was glad to reach their room, even though stacks of drywall and other construction supplies still cluttered the area. They could see steel supports and foam insulation in several places, but no one else could see into the living room.

  Laura gave an exaggerated sniff near Stu’s armpit. “You’ve been sweating.”

  “I told you crowds make me nervous,” Stu replied.

  “Go shower,” she ordered, pointing toward the bathroom.

  He shuffled obediently in that direction.

  Well trained. As Laura changed into her belly-dancing costume, someone knocked at the door. She cursed.

  Stu called from the bathroom. “Oh, I asked them to bring the gifts up so we could sort what goes with us on the plane tomorrow.”

  Rolling her eyes, she checked the view port in the reinforced door and let the porters in. The girl’s swim team hauled in the table full of presents. Laura tipped and thanked them before resuming her preparation.

  She finished donning her costume in a rush. While she was lighting mood candles, someone else knocked. She jerked the door open. “Can I help you?”

  Kieran presented her with a slab of cake. “We had extra. I thought you might like some later.”

  “Thank you,” she said in her most diplomatic tone. “I’m supposed to be joining him in the bedroom right now.”

  Kieran chuckled, checked his watch, and departed for his private elevator.

  Fortunately, Stu was taking an extra-long shower, almost as if he were stalling. No sooner had she closed the door and turned on the music when the third interruption occurred. She clamped her jaws shut tightly as she opened the door.

  Fiona presented her with the Mori family sword. “Sorry. President Llewellyn was lurking in the halls, and I had to avoid him. He’s a sword collector, and he was eyeing up your katana during the dance.”

  “Thank you, so much,” Stu said from the bathroom door, wrapped in a towel. “I left a copy of our itinerary on—”

  “She was just leaving.” Laura shoved cake in her hands and spun her around. “She’s taking dessert to the crew in the infirmary.”

  “That’s sweet,” Stu said.

  Fiona couldn’t reply before Laura slammed the door and bolted it behind her. “I swear I’m going to shoot the next person who interrupts us. It’s almost midnight.”

  The phone rang, and Stu answered it. “It’s Sif. She’s prepping the polar expedition. I have to take this.”

  Laura seethed while she arranged a stack of sitting pillows and lit the incense. Neatening one of her crates, she discovered a small, heart-shaped bottle of custom-made perfume worth more than the reception had cost. She considered hurling the heavy, glass con
tainer at the back of his clueless skull.

  ****

  Kieran sat back in his plush office chair and disabled the smoke detectors on his floor. He lit a Cuban cigar and inhaled with satisfaction. He set out his best bottle of Irish whiskey plus two glasses. When the knock sounded at his door, he grinned. Perfect timing, Freya. The boy’s probably balls deep by now. No reason I shouldn’t be. Perfect alibi. He turned on his Do Not Disturb indicator and buzzed the door open. Freya wasn’t the one who pushed her way inside. “Mira, I wasn’t expecting you. Can I offer you anything?”

  The elegant CEO’s face clouded over. That meant a storm. “I’m leaving your door open a crack so my bodyguard can hear everything you say. You have one chance. Lie and you fry.”

  Shit. She knows! But she doesn’t know when. Stall, and it will all work out fine. “Anything for you, duck. Sit. Drink. We’re civilized people.” He poured two generous helpings of the smooth, aged whiskey and sipped one.

  The head of the Smith trust remained standing. “Freya came to me tonight.”

  “Yeah. We’ve been having a bit of fun. Nothing serious.” Kieran took another swallow. “I thought she hated your guts.”

  “She loves you more. Given what she’d overheard, she still wanted to save you.”

  “She’s a lying whore,” he snapped, slapping his glass down.

  Mira Hollis glared. “Manners, or my guard will be in here to remind you. If you confess to everything, I’ll let you keep possession of the company’s beach house.”

  He could feel his face flush with rage. “You can’t push me out. I have a contract. I know people. I know things about you the press would have a field day with.”

  She paced the room, ignoring his outburst. “We’ll pay to have the house grounds maintained. The monthly stipend, however, will be in Freya’s name. If you leave her or harm her in any way, you lose your retirement.”

  “You can’t force me to live with her.”

  “I’m hoping your greed will do that,” Mira replied. “She’s convinced she can reform you and bet everything to try. I sincerely hope you’ll both find happiness.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to show my face in public with that white trash.” He glanced at his desk clock. “Is this about what happened in Cardiff?”

  “Pardon?”

  Kieran licked his lips. “I’m just saying, do you think I ended up with the wrong blonde?”

  “You disgust me.”

  But you’re still here, protesting too much. “How about you give me twenty minutes to convince you to stay? Then we can work out a new contract.”

  She appeared to consider this. “You’re saying you’d swap us out like tires?”

  He ambled around the desk. “No, love. I’m pointing out that I’d never have to settle for hamburger when I’ve got filet on my plate.”

  Mira turned her head toward the door. “You heard enough?”

  Freya appeared in the doorway in full armor. Her rough voice said, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for having Luca stay by the elevators.”

  “I can explain,” Kieran said by reflex.

  When Freya charged, he tried to use both the drink and cigar as weapons.

  In seconds, the huntress had slammed him face-first into the desk and slapped on cuffs—and not in the good way. She jerked him painfully to his feet and marched him toward the door. “You’re charged with violations of—”

  “Wait, I can tell you where they’re landing!” Kieran offered.

  Freya ignored him, accidentally bumping his shoulder against the doorjamb as she shoved him into the waiting area.

  “Who?” asked Mira.

  “The strike team,” he wheezed through the pain.

  “Code blue,” Hollis said over her comm.

  “Talk,” Freya said, warming up the Genilock 54 sterilizer. “Without the anesthetic and safety features, if I hit the tip by mistake, this can be excruciating. I have ten rounds to play with.”

  “Mori wants the blood sample from the infirmary,” Kieran admitted, leaving out the planned assassinations. Maybe his mercenaries can still rescue me.

  Maurier burst open the door to the reception area, guns drawn.

  The ceiling vibrated as if they were standing under a waterfall. With a thump, a VTOL landed on the roof helipad. The kill team had arrived.

  Chapter 36 – Embassy Invasion

  Stu talked on the phone for an eternity before he disconnected and summarized for Laura. “The weather is potentially bad in Antarctica tomorrow. Three organizations tried to warn us away, but I told them we’d come in from orbit if necessary. There’s no way I’d make your brother wait even one more day.”

  Damn. How can I be mad at him for that?

  His hair still damp and ruffled, Stu looked down at his towel. “Oops. I forgot to squeegee the shower. Be right back.”

  “Sit. Down,” she ordered, pointing to the oversized pillows.

  “It won’t … I should …”

  As her breath heaved, the gold bangles attracted his attention. He sat. She resisted the urge to pat him on the head. “Tonight, I wanted to give you a special gift. I’ve performed parts of this dance routine twice for others.”

  “I … heard. Cayman Islands.”

  She lowered her voice. “I’ve never performed all of the dance. I was saving the finale for the man I wanted to marry.”

  “Oh.”

  She strode back to the door and clicked on the media player. Arabian strings and finger cymbals played around the suite. “You may not speak, move, or touch me until I give permission. Understand?”

  He nodded enthusiastically.

  Her veiled body began to move sensuously to the reed instrument on the speakers. Each verse, she circled him and left a single piece of her covering behind. He violated the rules when he kissed the bruise on her arm.

  He responded first to her exposed navel. She could sense his arousal building.

  Once all the veils from the back of her belt were gone, she helped him appreciate observing other parts of her anatomy as well. She thrilled as his breathing caught in anticipation.

  He whispered, “God, I’m so lucky.”

  Smiling, she placed a finger over his lips and replaced one of the veils. “No speaking. Now we’ll have to do that verse over again.”

  He groaned, and she responded with a throaty laugh.

  When she revealed her left breast, he slipped again. “Better than I imagined.”

  “That’s two veils I put back,” she scolded.

  He cried out in anguish.

  She began dragging the perfumed scarves over him as she removed each.

  His breathing reminded her of a horse after several minutes of full gallop.

  “So close.” She teased both of them by brushing her warm skin against his shoulder and back. The music built in speed and volume as it approached the crescendo.

  The moment Laura touched her last veil, the security badge in her pile of clothes beeped. Someone is going to die for this.

  Stu dove for the badge to answer it for her. As he stood, his towel fell off, revealing that he was still wearing his underwear. He picked up the sword. “Suit up. We’ll fall back to the defensive perimeter around the pharmacy.”

  “You’re joking,” she said, livid. “This room can withstand heavy artillery.”

  “My people are in danger because of the blood I left in the infirmary.” He was already in the bedroom pulling on his flight suit.

  What was he, a volunteer fireman? Laura’s mother came over her earbud. “Incoming. Stairs are compromised. Use the trash chute. I’ll meet you in—”

  Feedback jammed the rest—on the Mori family channel. The old man is coming for us, and he isn’t playing fair. “Comms are out.”

  “We don’t need comms. Joan will tell us anything important.”

  Laura said, “We need a plan.”

  He flipped over the mattress, revealing Oleander’s sneak suit in a padded, hidden compartment. “Suit up. While they’re batt
ering down the doors, we’ll head out the back.”

  As she squeezed into the neoprene outfit, Stu popped a solid panel of insulation out of the exposed closet wall. She found boot covers but no boots. I can move quieter with bare feet.

  Automatic weapons fire filled the hall. Their two guards with handguns wouldn’t last long. Stu used the ultra-sharp, antique family sword to stealthily etch a rectangle in the drywall. Grandfather would shit if he saw that. Nana would understand survival. “How do I fasten this?” She was wearing a suit of medieval scale mail made of lightweight ceramics. It felt like a full-body version of her belly-dancing bangles.

  His pupils dilated as he saw her in the curve-hugging gear, but he stayed a professional, cinching and tightening as if he had practiced it a hundred times. “Ceramic stops most weapons, but the design favored ease of movement.”

  Combat hide and seek. What a weird childhood. Like I have room to talk with Nana’s training sessions. A ram pounded on the front door as he clipped together the suit’s control belt. She defocused her physical senses and expanded her mental ones. Six surviving enemies stood between them and the building exit. She gripped the explosive pistol in her hands. This can work: two sure kills, and I’ve trained against four opponents.

  He snapped the suit’s helmet in place as power tools whirred to life in the hall to bypass the vault-like door. “I’ll carry the insulation panel as cover in case someone notices us on our way to the elevator.”

  She focused on her arm as he flipped a switch on her belt. An image of the floor appeared on the armor, becoming more detailed until her arm vanished. Invisibility. I can see them through walls, but they can’t see me. “I like.”

  “You have ten minutes of battery left to get you to the infirmary. I’ll—”

  Laura reached for her problem-solving talent, tapping Stu to find a way out of this trap. The plan leapt into her head full-blown. Just being near him sharpened her senses. She shoved Stu into the cushioned hidey hole under the box spring. Putting every ounce of Empathic control she had into her voice, she said, “Trust me. Stay there no matter what you hear.” She tossed the insulation on top of him and pulled the mattress back in place.