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Take Two

Page 18

by Evangeline Anderson


  Pushing through the endless crowds, she passed through three security checks with no problem, noticing as she went that most of the women and even some of the men were wearing the same see-through material that Prissy De Tangelen had been affecting. It made her feel frumpier than ever to glimpse the sleek, nearly naked bodies flashing past her in a constant hurry to get wherever it was they were going. Why hadn’t she checked more closely into what the native New New Yorkers were wearing before she’d moved? Sadie supposed that as soon as she got her first paycheck she’d have to go out and get some new clothes, although, frankly, she would have almost been more comfortable in the prostie-outfits she’d worn on the mission. They covered far more than most of the weird, see-through dresses and suits she was seeing.

  “Van Heusen trial?” asked the bored guard at the fourth security check and Sadie nodded wordlessly, producing her press pass. She started to walk past the man, but he stopped her with one arm across the chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Sadie asked anxiously. Did she look like a desperate criminal or something? The trial was starting in five minutes and she really had to get going.

  “Visual check. Turn side to side, please,” the guard said, in the same bored tone. Hesitantly, Sadie did as he asked, twisting from one side to the other, wondering what in the world he was looking for.

  “Look,” she said, still twisting. “The trial’s about to start and I really need to get in there.”

  The guard gazed at her for a moment and then said, “You got the wrong kinda clothes on for this, lady. You’re gonna hafta strip.”

  “What?” Sadie looked at him aghast. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talkin’ about gettin’ outta them clothes so I can make the check and you can stop holdin’ up my line,” the guard said matter of factly. “This here’s a restricted trial, lady. You shoulda wore somethin’ made outta easy-vis if ya wanted to get in without takin’ off your clothes.” He gestured to the guard to one side of him who was scanning the people who passed by his desk after twisting to first one side and then the other, rendering the fabric of their suits and dresses see-through with the change of position before he let them past.

  Sadie realized with a sick kind of dread the reason for all of the see-though clothing. Everywhere you went in NNYC there were multiple security checks. When you looked at it that way, it was certainly easier to wear the easy-vis outfits than to take off your clothes. People were beginning to pile up behind her. Some of them muttered, gave her disgusted looks and went to find a line that was moving. Sadie knew she was making people late, but the idea of stripping in public was less than appealing.

  “Look,” she said as reasonably as she could. “Can’t you, I don’t know, X-ray me or something? I’m new here and I didn’t know…”

  “No longer allowed ta use any kind of radiation on the general public for security checks. People vs. the State of New York 2094,” the guard droned. “Look lady, you wanna get into the trial or not? It starts in five and Judge Cornwallis’ll holdja in contempt if you come in late and disturb his court.”

  “Yes, all right, fine,” Sadie said tersely. There was no way around it; she would have to undress. Gritting her teeth and trying not to catch anyone’s eyes, she began stripping off the conservative cobalt blue suit, trying to pretend she was in the girl’s locker room back in school on Io. She was down to her matching green bra and panties and was unhooking the front of the bra while the guard looked on with mild fascination when she heard a voice behind her.

  “Sadie? Sadie, honey, is that you?”

  “Oh no,” she moaned under her breath. Turning around with her bra flapping open she saw Blakely standing behind her, that charming, lopsided grin she remembered so well stretched from ear to ear. “Blake!” she said blankly, all of her resolve to be calm and professional forgotten. “I…uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “And I didn’t expect to see you either, sweetheart. Least not so much of you.” Hot indigo eyes traveled over her chest reminding Sadie that her breasts were exposed for anyone to see, her nipples hardened from exposure to the chilly air. Blushing deeply, she clutched the bra shut, trying to hide herself and still her pounding heart. She noticed, a bit resentfully, that Blakely was wearing a dapper navy suit that set off his eyes to perfection. It was completely opaque, but no one was making him strip.

  “I just got in last night and the Times sent me to cover the sentencing. I didn’t know about the security checks,” she babbled, feeling like a total idiot.

  “Hey, take it easy, baby,” Blakely said. Taking her elbow he turned toward the guard and said, “It’s all right, Charlie. The lady’s with me—I’ll vouch for her.”

  “You say so, it’s good enough for me, Detective,” the guard said promptly. He shoved the pile of clothes she’d laid on his desk at Sadie who hurriedly began putting them on again. “She was holdin’ up the line anyway,” he added, beckoning for the next person to move forward.

  “It’s…it’s so good to see you again,” Sadie panted, hopping on one foot as she tried to replace her high-heeled shoes. Blakely obligingly slowed down and let her hold on to his elbow to perform this operation.

  “Yeah, ’m glad I ran into you, kid. Holt and me figured we’d never hear from you again.”

  “Well all you had to do was pick up the vid-screen and call,” Sadie said indignantly, hobbling in the uncomfortable heels as fast as she could down the marble hallway after him as he resumed walking.

  Blakely gave her a piercing glance out of his deep blue eyes.

  “We figured you didn’t want to hear from us or you woulda called,” he said quietly. “We’ve both been missin’ you, Sadie. Missin’ you a lot. Heard you got nominated for an S. P. Good work,” he added quickly, not giving her time to remark on his last words.

  But Sadie thought she felt a faint tickle of some emotion—sorrow, loss, hope?—in the back of her brain. Could it be that the bond wasn’t completely gone after all? She supposed she would know for sure when she saw Holt.

  Oh boy, here we go again, she thought. But strangely, the idea didn’t upset her the way she would have expected it to.

  “I’m working for the Times now.” She smiled up at him a little shyly. “They called and offered me a job as correspondent after I got the nomination. I, uh, I never expected to run into you or Holt in the line of duty though. Where is he, anyway?”

  “Saving me a seat. It’s packed in there,” Blakely said. “C’mon, let’s see if we can squeeze you in.”

  Squeeze was the right word, Sadie thought, when they got settled in the long, benchlike seats that lined the courtroom. She was lucky to have run into Blakely, she thought, because there was no way she could’ve gotten such a good seat otherwise. People were actually standing three deep along the walls, craning their necks to see the front of the room, whereas she, Blakely, and Holt were in the second row of seats with a clear view of everything.

  Holt had greeted her with more reservation, but no less warmth than his partner, and now she sat jammed between the two of them, her heart pounding and her breath coming faster than normal, trying to ignore the emotions she felt from both men and take notes on the court proceedings. The bond was still there all right; it was amazing how it had come to life as soon as she was sandwiched between the two of them again. It had flared like a smoldering ember that had been suddenly dowsed with lighter fluid, seemingly stronger than ever and apparently ready to pick up exactly where they had all left off.

  Sadie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Being between them reminded her of how much she had missed them both, missed the closeness they had shared. The warm golden current that was buzzing through her nerve endings like a low-level electrical charge made her feel mildly drugged with her body’s need for physical contact. How long since she had been touched? Since she had made love to anyone? Not since the night they had healed her for the last time. Sadie tried hard not to think about it.

  She was wary of letting
herself be sucked back into the seductively sexual relationship they had been involved in before she went back to Io. She also wondered at the way her body was reacting so strongly to the proximity of both men. It was like she had been starving for the last six months and suddenly someone had sat her down at an all-you-can-eat buffet and told her to dig in. Was she actually somehow physically addicted to them? Surely not…she crossed her legs uneasily, pressing her thighs together and trying to ignore the wet heat she felt building between them.

  Sadie tried to keep her mind on the trial and wondered what Blakely and Holt thought. They kept exchanging those little half-glances over her head that spoke volumes without saying a word. She felt hope and need from both of them, although the hope was considerably stronger from the optimistic Blakely and fainter from Holt. If only she’d had a little more time to orient herself here in NNYC before she’d run into them! She was lonely and alone—a small-colony girl lost in the big city—and it made her feel vulnerable and needy. It didn’t help any that she felt Holt and Blakely wanting to hold her close between them and ease her pain either. It would be so easy to let them…too easy, she thought warily, resisting an urge to squirm like a kid in her seat. Goddess, she could barely breathe.

  The proceedings went fairly quickly, or at least Sadie supposed they were quick. She had never covered a trial before. Van Heusen had already been convicted of numerous crimes, including the ownership of illegal flesh tanks and the use of black market brains. He sat on the defendant’s side of the room beside a small army of attorneys and legal aids, resplendent in a maroon synthi-silk suit with the huge diamond ring he had been wearing the night they first met him flashing ostentatiously from the thumb of his right hand. Sadie supposed he had decided to go out in style, although she thought that flaunting his wealth with the ring and the suit was a bad idea, especially while the jury was settling punitive damages for the colonists who had been wronged.

  “Old bastard isn’t givin’ an inch,” Blakely whispered low in her ear giving her a little shiver. Sadie nodded, agreeing with him. Van Heusen sat ramrod straight in the high-backed chair as he listened to the judge levy fines in excess of a billion credits to cover the costs of growing new bodies and providing emotional counseling for the colonists whose brains had been stolen. The judge seized all his property in the name of the court and sentenced him to three consecutive life sentences.

  “Guess he should have grown himself a new body while he had the chance,” Holt whispered in her other ear. “Even if it wasn’t exactly perfect.” Sadie nodded again, trying to ignore the second little shiver that ran down her spine when his hot breath blew across her ear, and concentrate on the proceedings. Van Heusen had gambled and lost. There was no way he would be able to fulfill his dream of immortality now. He would die in prison long before he was able to get out and arrange to have a new body grown for him. His fastidiousness and vanity over the latexlike skin texture of a tank-grown body had been his undoing.

  At last it was over, and not a minute too soon to suit Sadie. The entire time she’d been sitting between Blakely and Holt she had felt herself becoming more and more aroused until concentrating enough to take notes on the trial became a contest of wills between her conscience and her libido. I have a deadline. I have to pay attention to this! she told herself sternly, but her body was humming so loudly with sexual tension that she could barely hear herself think.

  “…out for a drink?”

  “Huh?” she asked, looking up to see both sets of blue eyes looking at her.

  “I said Holt and me know a great little bar not far from here. How ’bout a drink?” Blakely ran a hand nervously through his dark curls.

  Sadie thought about it—really thought hard. On the surface it sounded harmless, but if she went out for a drink with these two now she would, in all probability, wake up in their bed tomorrow once again full of remorse and guilt. She wished she could shake that kind of small-colony thinking right out of her head, but she couldn’t. Love it or hate it, Goshen and everything she had learned there was part of her. She had come out here to start a new life and that was what she intended to do. Even though you love them? Even though you need them the way they need you? The little voice didn’t sound like Gerald or Aunt Minnie or anybody else she knew, but it didn’t sound like logic either. I have a deadline, Sadie reminded herself. I have a brand new life and I don’t want to blow it.

  “Guys…Blake, Holt, I’m really sorry,” she said reluctantly, feeling like a jerk. “But, well…I’ve got a deadline to meet…”

  “Sure, we understand, Sadie. That’s okay. Some other time, maybe,” Holt said quickly. The blond man’s face was impassive, but Blakely had a harder time hiding his emotions.

  “At least let us give you a lift home.” Blakely reached out and took her hand. “We could catch up a little on the way and you’d get home in time to work on your story. Everybody wins. Huh, kid?”

  “Well,” Sadie felt herself wavering. She remembered how low on credit she was and how much taking another hover-taxi would cost. “All right,” she said at last. “But you have to promise to take me straight home. I really have to work on this story—it’s my big break and I don’t want to blow it.”

  “Now where have we heard that before?” Holt rolled his eyes and Sadie couldn’t help laughing. Blakely grinned and squeezed her hand and Sadie found herself thinking how good it felt to be with them…how right. It’s not just sex with them…it’s everything.

  “Just let me gather my notes,” she said.

  “Detective Holtstein? Detective Blakely? Excuse me?” The courtroom had cleared out fairly well now and all three of them turned their heads to see whose voice was echoing in the nearly empty room.

  Van Heusen was standing, surrounded by a phalanx of attorneys with a wider circle of guards around them and he was calling in his high, old man’s voice and gesturing for them to come over, the overhead lights glittering on the huge diamond thumb ring he wore. Sadie saw Holt and Blakely exchange a brief glance. The blond detective frowned and shook his head slightly but Blakely shrugged and walked toward Van Heusen anyway. Looking like a thundercloud, Holt followed reluctantly.

  Sadie trailed behind them, helpless to do otherwise.

  “Gentlemen, I was hoping you’d consent to speak with me one last time.” Van Heusen smiled genially, the wrinkles around his gray eyes crinkling with emotion.

  “And?” Holt asked tersely. Sadie could see the tension in his broad shoulders and realized that even with all the security checks and guards around, the tall blond detective still didn’t trust Van Heusen.

  “And I just wanted to congratulate the men who finally caught me.” Van Heusen beamed at them both as though they had played a particularly funny practical joke of which he had been the butt. “Do you gentlemen know, do you have any idea how many times I’ve been arrested, detained, accused, and arraigned? But you two were the only ones who could ever make it stick. You caught me—you and your lovely assistant there,” he nodded at Sadie who looked silently back. “Seriously, detectives, congratulations are in order. Part of it, I must allow, was my own foolishness. But most of it was you, all you, and I for one would like to shake your hands. Would you allow me?”

  He held out one thin, cadaverous hand and Sadie saw that it trembled ever so slightly, making the huge, glittering diamond on his thumb throw fractured sparkles of light from every angle.

  Holt looked at the hand as though Van Heusen had offered him a dead rat. “I’m afraid I’m going to take a pass,” was all he said.

  “Ah, c’mon, Holt. What the hell. I’ll shake with you, Van Heusen.” Blakely extended his hand and Van Heusen clasped it firmly in both of his, the diamond winking at the sudden gesture. Sadie thought she saw the dark-haired detective wince, but he didn’t say anything. When the shake was over, Van Heusen turned back to Holt.

  “I’m more sorry than I can say that you wouldn’t do me the honor of shaking hands, Detective Holtstein,” he said gravely. “But perh
aps I might be permitted to give you something else instead. Oh no,” he shook his head, already reading the rejection in the set of Holt’s square jaw. “No, it’s nothing of any monetary value. My attorneys can vouch for that, so please, don’t be alarmed, or think that I am trying to bribe you in any way. After all, what would be the point?” He gestured around the empty court room, indicating that everything was already over and done with and laughed heartily.

  “No, it is simply a small communication reel I wish you to have. Feel free to play it for your own attorney if you have one. On it I have recorded some of my thoughts and feelings, the last mutterings, perhaps, of an old man who isn’t long for this System. You’ve been worthy adversaries and since I haven’t any friends to speak of, not that I haven’t bought anyway,” he nodded contemptuously at the men and women in expensively cut suits around him. “I would like you to have it. Burn it or destroy it or maybe just keep it for a time when you can find it in your heart to forgive an old charlatan for his sins. Will you do that for me?” he held out the fingernail-sized com-reel beseechingly. Grudgingly, Holt held out his hand and allowed Van Heusen to drop the reel into his palm which he slipped into the breast pocket of his well-tailored black suit. “Thank you,” Van Heusen said, smiling at them both. “You’ve made an old man very happy today. I hope you both get the future that you deserve.” And with that, he turned and was lost in the sea of attorneys and guards as they led him away.

  “Well that was weird,” Sadie remarked as they walked out past the security guards who waved them past without any trouble once they recognized Blakely and Holt.

 

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