by TR Cameron
The computer wizard grinned. “Very well, Professor. I believe that the Confederacy technologies deviated from ours right off the bat, due to a difference in perspective about the ultimate uses of robots in that culture. Would you like me to explain?”
Jax lifted a hand. “No, I’m good, really. Thanks. Seems as if you’ve got it down, though.”
The others arrived over the next ten minutes, all of them making it back in advance of the deadline. When they’d gathered, he asked, “Any last-minute issues? Everyone clear on their role?”
Hearing none, they departed for the Alfawerks building for their first test in coordinated espionage.
On the late afternoon train back to Inverness, Jax sprang for a private car so they could go over the results of the operation. They’d secured drinks before boarding, cans of beer and cider, which helped lessen the stress of the moment. Once again, they were headed home in something other than total success.
He asked, “So what went well?”
Sirenno replied, “The first part was perfect. You managed to convince the person at the desk that we’d scheduled a tour, although she had absolutely no record of it. Offering to call the departmental administrator at the university was a great move. Really sealed the deal.”
He nodded. “Agreed. Unfortunately, I think we can expect that whatever target we wind up with for the real op won’t be so easily fooled. We’ll need to be sure to have people ready to play some remote roles in our game. What else?”
Verrand gave a soft chuckle. “The costumes. Those were good.”
Jax laughed. “Come on now. It wasn’t all bad. Kenton did a great job of asking questions while they showed us around the robotics display. Hell, I almost believed he was a graduate student.”
The others nodded, and a couple clapped. Marshall grinned. “Well, I do have a pretty clear connection to technology in my job. After that, it was just exaggerating.”
Jax turned to Cia, who seemed the most annoyed. “And what can we improve on?”
“We definitely need more information going in. I kind of thought we had the fundamental pieces, the essentials, but as soon as things started moving, realized we didn’t.”
He nodded. “Agreed.”
Kimmel added, “And better technology. I was able to crack their most basic network level with my tablet, but that only gave us an appointment calendar and building layout. Anything more would have required more programs and more power.”
“I think it’s safe to assume we’ll have higher quality gear all around when we do this for real. But what about taking on the roles? What would have made that easier?”
Verrand snorted. “More time to practice, for sure. This was kind of a jerk setup, Reese.”
“Jerkwad,” Cia corrected.
The other woman grinned. “Noted.”
Jax shook his head. “The point wasn’t to make us feel good but to see where we were lacking. Honestly, you all proved to be better actors than I expected, and whatever nervousness you felt should be less the next time around. I’m pretty sure we’ve got what it takes to pull this off.”
“Assuming the right support is there,” Marshall clarified, then changed the subject. “So far, I haven’t gotten anything back from my corporate contacts about the target. Anyone else?”
Head shakes from Verrand, Kimmel, and Sirenno confirmed the lack of progress. Jax said, “Well, we’ve got time. No indications have arrived suggesting we’ll be on our way tomorrow, so that’s one more day to pull things together.”
Cia laughed. “Yeah, but you’ll be too busy for that, desperately scrambling to try to get Juno to go on a second date with you after you screw up tonight. ‘Gets slapped before dinner is over’ in the betting pool is mine, so don’t let me down, okay? You know, just be yourself.”
He closed his eyes and lifted a single finger in response, then settled in to relax, thinking about the evening ahead. Pretty sure you’re going to lose that bet, Cia. I’ve got a good feeling about this.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He split from the rest of the team in Inverness, opting to rent a vehicle for the trip to the castle. While his preference would have been a motorcycle again, it didn’t seem like a good plan for a first date. Instead, he selected a car, a distant descendent of the Ford Mustang. It still maintained its muscle car looks although it was electric and highly computerized. The cherry red version almost swayed him, but he decided basic black was the right call for the evening.
The drive back was a pleasure, the car’s responsive handling a joy to control. It caused him to take the curves faster than strictly necessary and put a grin on his face for the whole trip. Juno’s last message had pushed their meeting for an hour, from seven to eight, which gave him more than enough time to ensure he was as polished as he could be beforehand.
He wasn’t a suit and tie kind of guy, so he’d suggested they go to a relatively informal spot for the night’s meal. His date had been amenable, and maybe even a little relieved, so he’d selected Rocpool for their outing. He’d noticed the restaurant on the corner several times in passing and had been intrigued by the comfortable elegance that showed through the windows.
Jax took another extended shower, one of his most basic pleasures at the Academy, then stared indecisively at his wardrobe. Could be I should have bought a few more things at Maison today. He turned to his old standby, a black button-down tucked into trousers of the same shade, with his single pair of decent dress shoes finishing the look. He rolled the long sleeves back once and strapped on his comms, then fussed with his hair for a couple of minutes. Finally, he shrugged at the person in the mirror. “Not much more we can do without extensive plastic surgery.” Or maybe transplanting my brain into a robot body, which seems like where my career trajectory will deliver me at some point. He’d timed his preparation well enough that no extra was left for fretting, and he headed for the castle entrance to meet his date.
The sight of Juno in a long black dress gathered at the waist by a simple silver chain belt brought a wide smile to his face. It was a modest outfit, but the spaghetti straps showed off beautiful shoulders, and the fashionable boots had the right amount of heel to make the whole thing more formal than the individual parts seemed. She carried a small silver clutch in her left hand. With all the smoothness he could muster, he said, “Hi.”
She gave a soft laugh from deep in her throat that thrilled him and an answering grin. “Hi yourself. I hear you had an adventure today.”
He gestured at the door, and they walked toward it together. “I did. Turns out we’re not the most impressive criminal gang quite yet. But once we have time to practice properly, watch out.”
“I look forward to hearing that story. I mean, the successful one.”
He winced dramatically. “Okay, ouch.” They reached the car, and he opened the passenger door and offered her his left hand to assist. She touched it as she climbed in, which he took as a message that while she didn’t need the help, she appreciated the offer. “I’ll drive there, and you can take the wheel on the way back if you want. It’s a fun car.”
He circled to his side and slid into his seat. She replied, “That sounds like a plan.” Her dress had lifted enough that he could see bare shin above the top of her mid-calf boot, and he laughed inwardly at the memory of his teenage days, where any sight of flesh caused his heart to race. Years and years later, and here we are again. Although I think it’s got more to do with the person who owns it rather than the skin itself. “So, where are we headed?”
“Inverness. Rocpool. The place has been there for a long time, almost an institution now, according to the travel guide.”
Juno nodded. “I’ve always wanted to try it, but the occasion never seemed to be right. Besides, I don’t get out of the castle all that much. Great pick.”
He steered south onto the road that connected the Academy with the nearest reasonably large city. The conversation along the way was light and flirty, with his date giving as good as she go
t and frequently upping the sarcasm-ante. Cia had teased him about his infatuation with the doctor when they were alone in the pilot compartment during the last mission, suggesting he was engaging in classic transference. The theory went that she’d helped mend him, so he’d decided that he was in love with her. He’d shrugged it off by teasing her about Ethan Kimmel yet again, but the idea had stuck with him until he’d given himself a mental slap upside the head and declared, “It’s just a bloody date. For fun. We’re not getting engaged. There’s time to worry about that garbage later, assuming I survive that long.” It was enough that he enjoyed Juno’s company, and hopefully, she found his equally inviting.
He surrendered the car to a valet and escorted her inside. The interior of the restaurant was comfortable, less posh than its menu would suggest while retaining an appealing elegance. Black booths and chairs surrounded dark wood tables and stood upon deep brown hardwood planks. Square lighting fixtures hung from above, their scarlet shades throwing tinted light around the room. Napkins and accent touches throughout the large dining area were white. Their outfits matched up well with what the other guests were wearing, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for not overdoing it. Misjudgments in either direction, too formal or too informal, always left him uncomfortable.
His reservation had specified a desire for privacy, and they were led to what passed for it in such a crowded restaurant, a small table in the rear corner along the windows. He held out her chair, then took his. “What do you think?”
She smiled, drawing his attention for a moment to her dark red painted lips. He jerked his eyes back up to hers. Focus, Jackson. “It’s lovely. A little less stuck-up than I’d expected.”
“Exactly my thought.”
“There’s no need to lie to flatter me, you know.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Lying? Me? Never. Well, maybe in the service of a good joke. Or a benevolent surprise. Or to an enemy.” He chuckled. “Okay, there are a lot of circumstances in which I might lie, granted. But I’m not lying to you, especially not to flatter you. I don’t think you’re the kind of person to appreciate such things.”
She nodded. “You’re correct. Nor do you seem like the type to bother with them.”
“So, uh, why’d you say it in the first place?”
Juno laughed. “To make you uncomfortable, of course.”
He lifted his water glass in a toast. “Well done, then.” She clinked hers against his. Then their banter was interrupted by the arrival of a server. He outlined the specials, placed their napkins in their laps for them, and bustled off to get the bottle of wine Juno had selected from the list she called, “Impressive.”
“So you know wine, then?” Jax had only enough knowledge not to embarrass himself.
“It was part of the required coursework at the boarding school I attended.”
“Ooh la la,” he quipped, “fancy. So, there’s some money somewhere in your family line?”
She nodded. “Way back, and we’ve been coasting on it for generations. Fortunately, a solid history of service runs in my blood. In a given generation, we usually have at least one businessperson to keep the funds intact, at least one politician, and a scientist, or artist, or in my case, a doctor.”
“So, the castle is pretty normal for you. And you’ll be paying for dinner tonight.”
Juno laughed. “Hardly. We’re city folk. No estates, no grounds, only fancy apartments in fancier buildings. And you asked me out, so you get the bill. I’ll do the asking next time, assuming there is one.” The way she said it gave him hope that another date was likely.
Their conversation paused as the waiter took their orders and swiftly departed to fill them after performing the uncorking ritual. Jax tasted his wine and had to admit she’d chosen quite well. Merlot was a little thicker red than he usually enjoyed, but this one was probably the best he’d ever had. “So, what are the odds, do you think?”
She shrugged. “You’re at a solid fifty-one percent likely right now. As long as you don’t do anything stupid, I can see it getting up to maybe fifty-five, fifty-six.” She held her neutral expression for a moment before breaking into laughter. “Okay, seventy-five percent and climbing, based mainly on the fact that you chose a good restaurant and were smart enough to agree that I should choose the wine. Plus, you know, you’re not terribly hard on the eyes and have a decent personality.”
Jax snorted and held out his glass to her for a refill. “Damn me with faint praise, isn’t that what the play says?”
She poured and replied, “I try not to allow potential partners to get a big head too early. It’s always a huge letdown later when my true insult-heavy persona comes out.”
“Ah, kind of a Jekyll-and-Hyde thing. Sounds exciting. I’m in.”
Juno shook her head with a broad grin. “You’re something, Jackson.” Their meals arrived, and they focused on eating and talking about food experiences. He accepted a bite from her plate, perfectly cooked beef cheeks with risotto. It had been dressed in red wine and shallots and tasted like a meal that might be served in heaven. She was equally affected when she tried his selection, a dish he couldn’t possibly pass up, being in Scotland and all. It was a cut of local venison, with Parma ham and haggis accompanying it. He’d been shocked to find the Scottish historical staple wasn’t on the Academy menu and impressed that his date was brave enough to try it now that he’d found some. He’d considered asking if they’d used a sheep’s stomach to cook it in, then rejected the idea as perhaps impolite. When Juno requested that information from their server of her own volition, his infatuation climbed one more rung up the ladder.
They shared desserts as well, switching off halfway through. He started with fresh berries covered in strawberry sorbet and white chocolate sauce, and she began with a chocolate praline tart topped with honeycomb ice cream. Coffee arrived afterward, and he leaned back contentedly with the small cup in his hand, happy in the glow of a good meal and great companionship. “I have to say that this is perhaps the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
Juno looked upward as if to beseech the gods to deliver her a less idiotic dining partner. “I’m sure you say that to all your first dates.”
“Nah. So far, only to the ones where it’s been true. Now, to be fair, they have gotten better as I’ve gotten older, but there’s certainly no guarantee. I do have pretty high standards. It takes a lot to match up with this.” He gestured at himself, the inappropriate level of self-congratulation in his words summoning a laugh from her.
“You’re something special, that’s for sure. So, toss me the keys. I have an early morning, and you do, too.” She rose, and he followed. When they got outside, he handed the tag to the valet, and the teenage girl ran off to retrieve the car.
He said, “I don’t have an early morning. There’s nothing on my calendar.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I think you’re incorrect. You might want to check your comm.” He complied, and sure enough, he had instructions to head for the ship immediately after breakfast. He shook his head, and she laughed. “The Professor gave me a heads-up earlier because he wanted to be certain nothing got in the way of our evening.”
Jax sighed. “The Professor knows we were planning to go out?”
Juno shook her head as she headed around the car to climb into the driver’s side. “Maarsen knows everything. Haven’t you realized that yet?”
He tried not to grumble as he got inside. It was a minor annoyance, given how well the evening had gone, and so was easy to set aside. “I guess I know now.” He twisted in the seat and grinned at her as she pulled out into traffic. “So, what’s the post-dinner likelihood of a second date?”
She gave a throaty laugh. “You’re at eighty percent. Maybe a proper goodnight kiss will seal the deal.”
He spent the rest of the drive trying to figure out what she might mean by “proper” and thinking that he’d met his match in Doctor Juno Cray.
Chapter Twenty-Six
&nbs
p; They boarded the bus after breakfast, during which Cia was notably absent. The drive north to the airfield was filled with various theories about why she wasn’t with them, from the ridiculous—she’d eloped with one of the other students, which was preposterous since Ethan Kimmel was with them—to the possible—the Grace needed extra preparation for wherever they were headed.
The moment they were on board, the cargo ramp closed behind them, and the pilot’s curt tones came over the ship’s intercom. “Moving in thirty seconds. Strap in now.” He exchanged glances with Maria Verrand, who looked equally concerned over Cia’s momentary—hopefully—personality shift, and they strode along the shortest path to the nearest safe spots.
The ship seemed angry, too, jostling and bucking more than usual during the takeoff and climb into space. A sense of foreboding grew in his gut, a familiar pre-mission feeling before entering into dangerous territory. Well, I guess someone’s got to do it. When the ship’s motion leveled off, he unclipped his harness and ran for the front, in case additional abrupt maneuvering lay in their near future. He had planned to jump into the right-side seat in the pilot compartment if needed but relaxed as he saw they were safely beyond immediate threats. He cleared his throat and said, “So, hi. How are you this morning?”
Cia growled an unintelligible response and hit several commands into her displays. Apparently, they were reluctant to work today, judging by the force of her actions.
Jax blew out a breath. “I’m going to climb out on a limb here and suggest that something has upset you. Is it Kimmel? Because, if so, I can throw him out the back right now. Say the word. I never trusted that little punk, anyway. With his staring and his computer wizardry and his ridiculous overconfidence.”
His efforts were rewarded with a snort and a sigh. “No. It’s not Ethan. He’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m just tired.”
