Mina Cortez: From Bouquets to Bullets

by Jeffrey Cook

  Mina sunk down in her chair. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of any of that. It just wasn’t the career she had been referring to. But when even her history teacher knew she was all set to become a lifelong florist, she had to admit it.

  She was doomed.

  Chapter Two

  After school, Mina and Miko got to dance class on time. “You rush more now than for school. Trying to avoid a repeat of the Great Mrs. Bateman Scolding of 2151?”

  “Plus I didn't beg and borrow every shred of time my parents would give me for dance and workouts just to miss something.” Mina did what she could to support the family shop, but she was trying to remain optimistic to the last possible minute that she might still have some chance at hitting the aptitudes necessary to be accepted to a ballet academy and get chipped appropriately. Still, only Miko seemed to really keep up hope. No one, including Mrs. Bateman, who was one of the best teachers in the area, questioned Mina's work ethic or fitness. The problem had always been, simply, that in addition to physical fitness, reflexes, and precision, dancers tended towards a certain body type, and Mina's short, stocky build wasn't it.

  Miko was always there for moral support. To do so, she'd managed to wedge yet another extracurricular between her piano lessons, violin lessons, history lessons, martial arts lessons, language lessons, automotive restoration research, and school. After the loss of his wife, Dr. Kimura had replaced the various family projects he had shared with his daughter with simply more classes. Still, she made time for dance to make time for Mina.

  A familiar shampoo with heavy citrus notes hit Mina just as she took her place at the barre. Mrs. Bateman approached and called her aside, instructing the understudy to take Mina's place in the recital practice. At first, Mina was somewhat confused. She’d been working hard on this presentation, even with chipping coming up. After all, either of her careers—the likely, or the one she had been hoping for most of her life—were not exactly considered high priority, so she didn’t expect to be anywhere in the early chipping dates. If this was to be her last presentation, she wanted to put everything she could into it, and prove that Mrs. Bateman had been right to promote her to the head of the class last year.

  “Miss Cortez...” the teacher began quietly, “I'm so sorry to hear we're losing you. I only wish it were to one of the dance academies.”

  Mina deflated almost instantly. She had no longer been expecting to be accepted, of course, but to actually hear it took the wind out of her sails. “Can I at least work through to the production?” she asked hopefully. If nothing else, it would mean she could keep putting off full-time after-school work at Emerald City Flowers and Design. She could pretend a little longer that someone had made a mistake. Plus, of course, she’d put in a lot of work towards this presentation already.

  “Well you can stay as long as you can to help your understudy, but with your chipping date before the recital—wait, you did know about your early chip date, didn't you?” Mrs. Bateman asked.

  Mina looked a little startled at the news, shaking her head. “There has to be some mistake, it's just a...”

  Mrs. Bateman smiled, if a bit ruefully. “They were quite specific. It may just be a review or something. If that’s the case, feel free to get a pass sent to the school from the center and we’ll be happy to let you back into your spot. In the meanwhile, I have to go on the information that I’ve been provided.”

  Mina sighed. “Yes, Mrs. Bateman. Thank you for trying.” She meant it.

  Getting through the rest of the practice wasn’t as hard as she’d first imagined it to be. As long as she had something to keep her mind occupied, she was fine. It was later, after she was able to retreat away from most of the class in the locker room, that the tears hit her. Miko found her a matter of seconds later and just hugged her. She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but she finally pulled herself together enough to finish getting dressed and head back out to the studio.

  “Hey, you all right?” came Scott’s voice. He wasn't any kind of dancer—or even coordinated—but he ran the dance class's computerized sound and light systems, because Mouseketeers had to stick together. While he usually got dropped off for school in the mornings with his parents going past, getting rides home from Miko got him home in time to watch his little sister almost as well as the bus did, which was all his parents tended to care about as far as priorities.

  “Not exactly, but I’ll tell you about it on the way to the shop...” A pause, checking her chronometer. “And I’m going to be in so much trouble,” she added. Dance was provisional as it was, dependent upon her getting to work on time. While Jim and Carmen Cortez knew their daughter's ambitions, of course, they tended to be more focused on the needs of the shop ever since business had taken off. She could only guess that as soon as they found out that the class had no more practical application, she’d have to fight over being able to stay on until her chipping date to help out Miko and her understudy.

  She could really only think of one thing as they worked to load Scott’s tech stuff into the back of Vlad and then, worse, fold Scott himself into the car, before they took off, with Miko doing her best to bend the laws of time to get Mina to work five minutes ago.

  Yeah, she was doomed.

  * * * *

  While not quite a success on Miko’s part, with some judicious use of back roads and careful breaking of the speed laws most cars were programmed to stick to, she managed to get dropped off only a few minutes behind schedule. “Sorry I'm late,” she said as she rushed into the shop.

  “Mail is in—something for you,” Carmen Cortez called, without looking up from her lily arrangement as Mina raced in the door. “Chipping center, I think, but no time for that. Get your shirt and jacket on, there’s four deliveries lined up. They’re all in the fridge unit. When you get back, you can help with inventory. Late night again. We’ll have dinner ordered for you when you get back.”

  “With four deliveries, can I use the van?” Mina asked hopefully.

  “Your dad has the van. He’s working on a project with the Unitarian church. Get going,” came the answer, still without looking up.

  “Yes, Mother,” she replied, disappointed but unsurprised. By now, it was almost routine. She looked a little despairingly at the central computer unit, but obeyed her mother, forgoing satisfying her curiosity about why the chipping center would want her in sooner rather than later. Heading into the back, she quickly changed her shirt and pulled the company jacket on, before racing to the fridge unit, drawing out the wrapped arrangements for delivery, two in cold boxes and two bouquets. She wrangled everything into a large wire basket and fit it onto the front of her bike, before heading out for the deliveries, having to race to make a couple of them on time. She was already late in the door. It would be worse if any of the deliveries were actually off schedule.

  When she finally returned, sweaty from the quick exertion of deliveries right after dance class, she was hit with the scent of fresh-cut greenery as her father met her at the shop door. “You have mail!”

  She was a little startled, but headed for the computer system.

  “This is a big deal,” Jim Cortez continued. “This will all be yours someday. Best to find out when you’ll get the management programs and all so you can start learning the individual systems.”

  Mina shot her father a look. While they had, of course, assumed she’d be taking up the family business ever since she was born—and all the more after early aptitude tests gave her extreme marks for color spectrum recognition and her oversensitive sense of smell—they weren’t supposed to refer to it. At least until it was certain.

  Like now, she reminded herself. Still, she had to at least bring up her usual objections. “The presentation is in a month and a half. I was hoping to stay on with dance until then.”

  “Mina, we’ve discussed this, honey. We really need you here. We have the pre-Spring inventory coming up, and then there’s all of the park work I’m going to be doing. I know that
this is important to you, but if we’re getting the notice already, it means you at least have a career review coming up,” he replied.

  “It's just until the—”

  “You have an understudy. We just got a lot of new orders in. The park projects got some new donors, so we’re going to have our work cut out for us. So much they may have just moved you up in priority. So take a look: is it a review, or what?”

  Mina sat down heavily, pulling up the mail with a lot less anticipation one way or another than she’d had. With no real chance of anything but assignment to the flower shop, it hardly mattered much when her date was.

  “Week and a half,” she finally said. “And it's just a review, but they may shift my chipping date based on it,” she explained, reading off the mail.

  Her parents exchanged pleased glances, before her mother chimed in. “Oh, honey, the Szachs invited us to a celebration dinner this weekend. Scott will be going in first thing next week. I know that’s important to you, so we arranged to shut down the shop for a couple hours... that is, provided we’re all caught up on deliveries and inventory is done. You’ll have to work late next two nights if we’re going to get caught up.”

  Mina was almost expecting it at this point. “All right, I’ll let Mrs. Bateman know that I won’t be able to be there. Wouldn’t want to miss the party.” That much, at least, was true. The families hadn’t gotten together outside of business for some time, and she’d want to wish Scott well. Maybe she could find out sooner if he was going to be staying local.

  Trading her delivery jacket for an emerald-colored apron, Mina went into the back to start helping with shop inventory and orders.

  * * * *

  Dropping out of dance classes officially had been hard, and the load to catch up with work had been brutal. Despite everything, when the party approached, Mina was in decent spirits. She could be genuinely happy for Scott without any trouble.

  The party was a huge affair. The Szachs were rich and had connections all over the city. Mina knew it was at the cost of never being home, between 60-hour work weeks, meetings of the various boards they sat on, and political events, but major Szach family events always filled a restaurant. In this case, it was Scott's favorite pizza place, because his preferred sandwich shop didn't have anything like the room needed. As it was, Mina couldn't help but be amused at some of the city's rich and powerful packed into a pizza parlor that usually marketed to the teen and twenty-something crowd. She was sure Benjamin and Stacy Szach would have chosen somewhere higher profile, but Scott got to pick. He'd gone for something his friends’ families could easily afford, and that didn't have a dress code.

  The Cortezes talked with Dr. Kimura about the newest proposals for the park project. Mina and Miko eventually went off to have dinner and conversation that didn't involve flowers and landscaping. Scott joined them as soon as he was able to get away from well-wishers, leaving his parents to handle collecting official congratulations.

  As soon as he sat down, Miko pounced on the opportunity. “So?” she asked.

  “You know chipping assignments are classified until all is said and done. And then, of course, even if I'd gotten something with security clearance issues, I couldn't talk about it,” Scott answered.

  Miko responded with a raised eyebrow, adding, “Whatever you say, Mr. Bond.” Mina just grinned.

  Scott glanced around, as if worried someone might be eavesdropping. Assured they had what little space could be gotten in the packed establishment, he continued. “But, you know, clearance or not, and this is strictly off the record, I could never keep a secret from you guys. I think I got it.”

  Chapter Three

  “Officially, I'm going to be one of the lead programmers of the University's systems, working on site there. There's something more to it all, though. They're just waiting til the process is underway—and I've officially signed all their agreements, and everything is verified—to tell me all the details. Of course, if any of this comes back to me, I'd just say you guys were overexcited about a rumor, and I have no idea what anyone is talking about.”

  “The University?” Mina asked. “Why would you be working there? All of the chips are made out in Redmond, I thought?”

  “Manufactured, sure,” Scott agreed. “And I thought that too. I'm guessing with all the compatibility testing, aptitude profiling, and checking student profiles, it helps to have biology labs and student records right there. Besides, so much goes in and out of the University, what with all the computers and systems, who'd notice? I'll probably have to go out to Redmond now and then, but apparently, I'll mostly be working in some sub-sub-basement somewhere most of the time.”

  Miko joined Mina in grinning. “So now you get to be a professional basement troll instead of just an amateur. Excellent. They going to let you bring your video games down there? You'll never have to leave.”

  “Nuh-uh. And don't think I didn't ask. No outside connections. Everything, and everyone, is kept offline and totally secure.”

  “Okay, that is seriously impressive,” Miko said, then nudged Scott with an elbow. “So, how quickly are you going to be able to hack the records and sneak Mina the ballet company assignment she got, before some clerical error mixed it up?”

  “Miko!” Mina's grin faded, head snapping over to look Miko's way.

  “Kidding, scout's honor,” Miko said, holding up that three fingered sign she did every time she referenced the scouts, whoever they had been. “Mostly,” she added, keeping a totally straight face.

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure everything for this cycle is done anyway. I might have to slip something extra into Miko's chip though,” he assured Mina. “A love of skirts and floppy sun hats, maybe.”

  “Don't you dare.” Miko was smirking, but one hand nevertheless clutched the brim of her fedora protectively.

  “I'm sorry to interrupt,” came a woman's voice from behind Mina, before a hand came to rest on her shoulder. Mina quickly processed hints of lavender shampoo and rose-scented hand soap, taking that in before she'd even turned.

  The woman behind her was about average height, making her a couple inches taller than Mina, with a slightly olive complexion and gray-streaked chestnut hair that could have spoken to dozens of mixed heritages. Even with the lack of a dress code here, she wore a severe charcoal suit jacket and business skirt.

  “Oh, sorry, Ma'am,” Mina quickly said as she stepped aside so the woman could talk to Scott. He was the guest of honor here, after all, and doubtless would have plenty of conversations with important people in suits soon.

  “Thank you, Miss Cortez, but actually I was hoping to speak with you, if you have a few moments? I'm sure your friends will understand,” the woman responded, giving the other two a flash of a smile with what appeared to Mina like the well-practiced version of sincerity. “I'll be speaking more with Mr. Szach soon, but not just now.”

  “Mina, this is Deborah Lasko, the Deputy Mayor,” Scott added in quickly. “My parents have worked with Miss Lasko on a few city projects.”

  Mina glanced at Scott, then back to the Deputy Mayor, confused. “To me?”

  “Yes, Miss Cortez. This will only take a few moments.”

  “Um, sure,” Mina agreed, standing from the table to follow the woman to a quieter spot near one corner of the room.

  “I understand that you've got a chipping date coming up, Miss Cortez.”

  “Mina is fine, Ma'am, and ... it's just a consultation. I don't think they'll be doing shops or delivery work or anything for weeks yet.”

  “Mina, then,” the Deputy Mayor continued. “Well, you could certainly be right. Of course, it's not too late for the Bolshoi Ballet, either. If you do end up staying here, though, I know the shop has gotten a lot busier. I've just recently added the Parks and Recreation projects to my portfolio of work for the city, so I've been getting familiar with the work done by Emerald City Flowers.”

  “And Design,” Mina added automatically. She chastised herself internally
; this was awkward enough.

  “Pardon me?”

  “It's Emerald City Flowers and Design. Dad's side of things. The landscaping and all. Just mentioning—it really doesn't matter.”

  The Deputy Mayor blinked. “Oh. Right. It was just Emerald City Flowers when ... when I was much younger. At any rate, your parents have done a great job. Very impressive. I'm sure I'll be working with them—and maybe you, though I wish you luck—very closely in the near future. So I thought I'd come introduce myself.”

  Mina was about to respond, when she caught wind of another couple of scents. The first was expensive cologne—not out of place here at all—but against it. She thought she caught hints of metal oil and some kind of anti-corrosive. There weren't a lot of things that smell could be. Her nose twitched, and while sparing a moment to itch at it, she glanced about. She couldn't help but catch sight of a bald giant of a man, at least a couple of inches taller than the awkwardly tall Scott, but built like a brick wall to Scott's scarecrow physique. He'd edged out of the main crowd and was watching the pair of them right up until he caught Mina's glance and looked quickly away. When Mina looked back, the Deputy Mayor was frowning, though it quickly faded back to what seemed her more typical carefully neutral expression. Regardless, she said nothing about the man, and Mina decided to let that rest, though she had to wonder what else was part of the woman's civil service portfolio if she needed a bodyguard.

  Mina scrambled to pick the conversation back up. “Thank you, Ma'am, I'm glad you did. We're always happy to work with the city on their projects, of course.” A thought occurred, and Mina suddenly added, “So if you've just been added on, what part interests you more, the restoration of venues to pre-Decimation looks, or the new beautification initiatives?”