by Vicky Savage
“Great. Maybe we can get together tomorrow night after dinner?”
“That would be fine. Shall I come here?”
“Yes. I’ll have all my new things in the apartment by then, and you can tell me what you think.”
“Splendid.” He gets to his feet. “Thank you so much, Jaden. You have put an old man’s mind at ease.”
“Old man? Oh please. You look like a young stud with that new chassis of yours.”
His eyes twinkle. “Such talk. You must not forget to respect your elders, my dear.” He pecks my cheek.
“Goodnight, Rals.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
My classes go smoothly in the morning. I feel more confident and less klutzy in Spontaneous Shifting. I breeze through Cartography, and mercifully, I don’t have Science of Transcending today. I reach my apartment in the afternoon with plenty of time to eat and prepare for the delivery of my new furniture.
I also take a few minutes to place a call to Joe, a zoologist and fellow Transcender, who works at the local community animal center. He agrees to help me get the ball rolling on adopting Callie.
“I’ll email you the application to fill out,” he says. “There isn’t much more to it than that. The center has on record the amount of time she’s spent with you, so there won’t be any question of their approving it. You’ll be charged a monthly fee for her healthcare, visits to the center, that type of thing.”
“Fantastic. I appreciate your help, Joe. Do I get some sort of adoption certificate or something?”
He laughs. “Oh yes, suitable for framing, if you like.”
Asher shows up early to supervise the installation of the furniture. He wants to be sure every piece goes exactly where he envisioned it. He doesn’t say as much, but I know he’s worried I might screw it up.
He directs the movers as to placement of the larger pieces, while he arranges the accessories himself. When everything’s set up and the delivery people have removed the plastic and other packing materials, I’m ecstatic with the result.
“This is some serious awesomeness,” I say, taking in the entire effect. “It reminds me of a boho chic Manhattan loft.”
“You should have an open house so everyone can see it,” Asher says.
“That’s a fantastic idea. Will you help me shop for the food and stuff?”
“Who wants to shop? Let’s do it the easy way. I know this little place that’ll cater the whole thing. How about Saturday night?’
“You think they can do it on such short notice?”
“They’ll do it,” he says. “They’ve been trying to get an in at the Chateau for months. I’ll set it up.”
I hug him and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Ash.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in close. “Anything for you, gorgeous.” Laughing deeply, he releases me.
I know he’s just kidding around, but sometimes I feel guilty about taking advantage of his talents and contacts. I don’t want to unfairly benefit if he still has a “thing” for me.
“Ash, are you sure you don’t mind? I mean you’ve already spent so much time helping me out.”
“Don’t worry about it. I enjoy it.”
I decide to take him at his word.
* * *
I sail through my training the rest of the week. Already Ralston’s tutoring in quantum mechanics has been a tremendous help in Science of Transcending. I think I’m beginning to understand the main concepts now.
Saturday morning I wake early, excited for the first party in my new place. I spend the day cleaning and making sure my apartment looks perfect. Around four o’clock I go out to pick up fresh flowers and scented candles. Ash has taken care of everything else, including selecting the music.
By the time six o’clock rolls around, all is in place. Servers in black uniforms mill about my kitchen and dining room assembling food on trays and polishing glasses.
Luci is the first guest to arrive. She looks very different without her lab coat. “Hey Luci, I like your dress,” I tell her.
“Is it okay?” She glances down and smoothes her skirt.
“Yeah. You look great.”
She hands me a small white box tied with a red ribbon. “House warming.”
“Oh, thanks. Shall I open it now?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
I discard the ribbon and wrapping and push aside the tissue paper. Inside is an elegant, clear glass globe with an explosion of vibrant colors frozen within its center.
“It’s a paperweight,” Luci says. “Reminded me of a supernova … which in turn reminded me of you. So, I just had to get it.”
“That’s so sweet.” She’s caught off guard when I hug her. “I love it. It’ll be perfect on my coffee table.”
A server stops by to take Luci’s drink order as additional people appear in my doorway. I still haven’t memorized everyone’s name, but I’ve had fewer and fewer embarrassing moments lately.
“Hi, everyone. Please come in. What would you like to drink?”
Urick and Nila arrive in full uniform. It’s unclear to me whether they just got off duty or whether this party is their assignment for the evening. It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad they’re here. Nila hugs me, and Urick grunts hello. He surveys the room with hooded eyes.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” I say “There’s food and drink inside.”
Urick sidles just past the door and parks himself against a wall. “You go ahead,” he says to Nila.
She rolls her eyes. “Can’t take him anywhere.” She laughs her rich laugh, and I wonder vaguely if they are dating. Urick’s a cool customer, but Nila’s smoldering beauty would be hard for anyone to resist—for pleasure or procreation.
Cute Jeffrey shows up with Monica, the churlish goth chick, on his arm. It reminds me of a Ronald Weasley-Girl With the Dragon Tattoo love match, but to each his own, right? At least she doesn’t appear to be concerned about me and Ash anymore.
Asher works the crowd for me. He makes certain no one’s glass is empty and keeps the guests circulating inside. Before long, my small living room and dining area are full of happy party-goers.
I keep an eye out for Narowyn and Hugh, but the party’s been in full swing for more than an hour before Narowyn arrives alone. She stops near the door and exchanges a few words with Urick. He moves out into the hall, and I get a prickly sensation that something’s not right.
“Jaden, everything is so lovely,” she says, taking my hands in hers. “I’m so dreadfully sorry to have to interrupt your party, dear, but may I speak with you outside?”
I follow her into the hallway where Captain Watterson and Urick are in hushed conversation.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“We have a bit of an unpleasant situation,” Narowyn says. “Lieutenant Michaels and Officer Ross are downstairs. They have a warrant for your arrest and a court order requiring me to deliver Ralston into their custody.
Dread slams every drop of party juice out of me. “They’re arresting me on Saturday night? I’m going to jail?” I ask in disbelief.
“Ted King filed your answer to IUGA’s counterclaim yesterday, which must have precipitated IUGA’s filing a criminal complaint,” Narowyn says. “Lieutenant Michaels says IUGA provided a partial facial identification on you from their security cameras. They insisted that you be arrested immediately, claiming that, as a Transcender, you might attempt to flee the jurisdiction.”
“The whole thing stinks to high heaven,” Watterson says. “If they’re pulling strings at police headquarters, I’m concerned about your safety there.”
“What do we do?” I ask, clouds of fear gathering inside my chest.
“I’ve called Ted King,” Narowyn says. “He’s attempting to arrange an emergency hearing before Chief Judge Laurence of the criminal division to have you released immediately. He’s told the clerk it’s a matter of life and death.”
“What about Ralston? You’re not going to turn him over are you? They’ll destroy his stored memo
ry the second they get their hands on him.” The promise I made to him echoes inside my head.
“I have no choice,” she says. “We plan to ask the judge to release him on a bond with my personal guarantee that he’ll not be removed from the jurisdiction.”
“But that could take some time to arrange. What do we do until then?”
“Judge Laurence is at dinner with his wife. His clerk is attempting to reach him. If he’s unsuccessful, Ted will try a different judge. We hope to get a hearing very soon, but in the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll need to go with Lieutenant Michaels.”
“No! Narowyn, no. I don’t trust him.”
“I understand, but we have no choice at the moment. It’s best to go voluntarily. We’ll send Urick with you. If they won’t allow him to accompany you in the normal way, he’ll shift inside police headquarters to wherever they are holding you.”
Urick speaks up, “I will not let any harm come to you.” His eyes tell me he’ll die protecting me. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
Lieutenant Michaels and Officer Ross wait inside Narowyn’s office. “Here is Miss Beckett,” Narowyn says. “She will accompany you of her own accord, but I’d like my Lieutenant to go along also.”
“For what purpose?” Michaels says.
“For additional protection.”
“Officer Ross and I can handle anything that’s likely to come up while Miss Beckett’s in custody.”
“Look Michaels,” Watterson says gruffly, “two attempts have been made on Miss Beckett’s life in the last several weeks. We have reason to believe she’s still in danger, and we believe IUGA filed this bogus criminal complaint to manipulate her into a vulnerable situation.”
“We’re in the process of arranging an emergency hearing before Chief Judge Laurence,” Narowyn tells him. “Should something happen to Miss Beckett in the meantime, I assume you do not wish to have to explain to the Judge why you refused additional law enforcement assistance when it was offered.”
Michaels scowls. “All right. Your Lieutenant can accompany us as long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t impede our processing of Miss Beckett. Where’s the robot?”
“He’ll be here momentarily,” Narowyn says.
Officer Ross extracts something shiny from his pocket. “We won’t restrain her hands since she’s coming voluntarily, but she’ll have to surrender her Trans-Dimensional Positioning Device and she’ll need to wear this.” He holds up a silver collar similar to the one IUGA’s robot clamped on me. My brain goes numb and my hand goes protectively to my throat.
Narowyn glowers at him. “Put that thing away,” she says through clenched teeth.
Ross looks to Michaels for direction. “Put it away,” Michaels says.
“Jaden, I’ll take your bracelet for safekeeping.” Narowyn holds out her hand.
I slip it off and give it to her. Ralston steps into the room and I mouth “I’m sorry,” to him, but he just shakes his head.
“I know you’re vouching for both of them,” Michaels says to Narowyn, but we’ve got to put restraints on the robot. We’re told his program’s been tampered with.”
“That’s absurd.”
“It’s all right.” Ralston says.
Officer Ross positions Ralston’s wrists behind his back and locks a heavy metal clamp across both of them.
“Let’s go,” Michaels says.
* * *
Once we’re inside police headquarters, Lieutenant Michaels instructs Officer Ross to handle my processing. Another uniform steps up to take Ralston away to be cataloged as evidence. I silently pray that the emergency hearing happens before someone from IUGA gets to Ralston. I feel heartsick for letting him down.
Ross leads Urick and me to an area designated for processing accused criminals. The walls are starkly white. Long strands of strange, blue tube-lighting snake along the ceiling. The floors are white tile and unexpectedly shiny and clean. The room contains three rows of small metal tables with black flat-screens on top. A bald man with thick red tattoos decorating his scalp sits in handcuffs at one of these tables. He turns and scowls at me as we walk through the door. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but Urick casts a warning look his way, and the man clamps his mouth shut and turns back to the officer processing him.
Ross tells me to have a seat at one of the tables. He explains that the next steps will be to take a photo of me, run an iris scan of my right eye, and record my imprint.
The photo and iris scan take only a few seconds. But when Ross attempts to record my imprint with an illumometer, he says he can’t get the instrument to work properly. Stomping to a closet on one side of the room, he chucks the device inside and removes another from the shelf.
“This can’t be right,” he says, whacking it on the table top. “I’ve never seen one register this high.”
“It’s correct. Just record it,” Urick growls, giving him the wolf-eye treatment.
Ross shrugs and enters the data into his computer.
“We’re done here,” he says, getting to his feet. “This way to the holding cell.”
He leads us to a thick metal door guarded by a giant, robotic guard. Ross peers into a retinal scanning device on the wall, and the door opens onto a long, cell-lined hallway.
Our shoes clatter loudly on the concrete floor, drawing the attention of the collection of characters populating the nearby cells. I ignore the muttered comments as we pass. Glancing into a cell on our right, I see two tall, thin beings inside. They appear to be dressed normally for Arumel, but they are clearly non-human. I avert my eyes, but my knees quake to think I might be housed with interesting cellmates.
We approach an empty cell near the end of the row, and I nearly swoon with relief. Ross unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I wobble unsteadily inside.
“You can’t go in with her,” he says to Urick. “You have to wait out here.” He locks the cell door behind me.
Urick lazily props himself against the bars. Ross eyes him warily before clacking back down the hall.
The cell is pungent with the odor of disinfectant. I choose to believe that means it’s clean. The bare slab floor is a Rorschach of unidentifiable stains. A dilapidated metal toilet occupies one corner—I’ll die before I use it. A shiny metal bench runs the length of the three unbarred block walls, and I balance carefully on its edge.
“Shall I ask them to bring you a chair or something?” I say to Urick.
“No need.” In a blink, he’s standing in my cell. “I’ll sit with you.”
He eases himself onto the bench next to me and leans back against the wall. His solid presence is comforting in this jarring environment. We sit silently for several minutes, listening to the indistinct prattling of the other inmates, as my stress level inches steadily higher.
“Urick, can I talk to you about something? Actually, I need to ask a favor.”
“What is that?” He sits up and studies me with interest.
“A few days ago, Ralston came to see me.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “He was all worked up over the possibility that he might be sent back to IUGA. Anyway, I promised him if that happens, I’ll get him, or at least his stored memory components, out of Arumel.”
Urick’s lips twitch slightly, which I take as his version of a smile. “You are going to smuggle him out of the country?”
“Shh. The thing is, I might need your help. I’m not sure I can do it by myself.”
“You know I am a law enforcement officer, don’t you?” he says with mirthful eyes.
“Don’t give me that crap, will you help me or not?”
“I do not believe it will come to that.” He relaxes against the wall again. “But I will help you.”
“Thanks.” I feel some of the tension fall from my shoulders.
After another few minutes of silence, I ask him, “So, is Urick your first name or last?”
He rests a hand on the hilt of his Throkken, which amazingly they allowed him to keep. “In De
monstadt we do not have last names taken from our fathers, as they do here. We are given designations at the age of fifteen, based upon the jobs we are assigned.”
“Really? So what was yours?”
“My designation was hunter. I’m known as Urick Hunter.”
“Okay. That’s cool. What did you hunt?”
He stares at a distant point on the other side of the cell. “Men,” he says quietly.
“You hunted men at age fifteen?” I gasp.
He props his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on his folded hands. “I had a period of training first, but then I hunted the enemy alongside others in my cohort. It was my duty.” He turns his liquid amber eyes on me. “Do you think less of me because it was my job to kill men?”
