by Red Harvey
"Why are you still here?" He rested his chin in his hand, looking more comfortable than Ada felt.
"Uh, what?"
"Weren't you planning a trip?"
What a perceptive little Brit.
Either that, or her mother had shared her travel ambitions before falling ill. She could see her mother talking about her to Kressick, turning towards him, putting all the facts in the form of questions, willing answers out of her boyfriend. Do you think, maybe, she might be going on a trip somewhere? Maybe like Atlanta? You do? Oh, I knew you would help me figure this out!
Thinking about her mother made her eyes sting.
Even though he knew about her trip, she still wanted to put it off.
"Right," Ada said. "It's not the time. Mom isn't getting better, and I'm not sure what I'm gonna do.” She spoke rapidly, aware she had disclosed too much information. Stupidly, she backpedaled: "But, I might leave...in a few days."
Now she was the one telling half-truths. By the end of the week, she was sure she'd still be in Aurora, and not in Atlanta.
"Hmm."
Ada worried Kressick saw through her excuses.
His brows met in the middle, and he looked younger for a moment. Ada wondered how old he was. A man of his means could afford laser tech to the face. He could be seventy and Ada would never know. Her mother was fifty-five. Kressick had to be somewhere around there.
"Where exactly are you going?" he ventured.
"Boston."
Kressick tilted his head slightly. "Where are you really going?"
"Far south of Boston."
Ada didn't say anymore.
"Is that all you're going to tell me?"
"Yes."
"Even if Boston isn't your stop, I'd like to come with."
This time, coffee did sputter from Ada's mouth. "How weird would that be?"
"Pretty weird, I'd wager. Regardless, your mother wouldn't want you wandering the country on your own."
"Please, this conversation wouldn't be happening if I were born a son and not a daughter."
Kressick allowed himself a short sip before answering. "Yes, it would. Inter-state travel is strictly monitored, not only because of State law, but for citizen safety, so humor me. And if you're driving to your destination, as I suspect you are, it'll be convenient to have another driver with you."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I like being alone."
"Yes, now. But before, you would've welcomed the company.”
Ada didn't like the knowing tone Kressick had adopted for their entire conversation. What she disliked most was how right he was.
"Since it's now and not before, humor me."
He stared at her, then asked, "What do you mean?"
She stood and waited to the sink. Without turning, Ada asked, "Why are you still here, in this house?"
Quietly, Kressick gathered up his tech and left.
He didn't come back until Ada called him two days later.
~ * ~
Once again, sleep evaded Ada.
If she were to ever leave, there was a decision to be made.
Sign for another loan.
Or.
Unplug her mother.
Both options seemed impossible. Signing her mother up for a second State loan meant signing away her mother's life. Amnesty would be an indefinite part of her payments, and she would be required, as the preliminary contract stated, to acquire a certain number of converts each year.
Ada knew her mother wouldn't mind, but Ada minded. Her mother used to be above caring about the State, and the last few years, she'd become a slave to it. Ada couldn't stand to see the rest of her mother's life dissolved.
She briefly considered how it might be better to have her mother living as a slave than not living at all.
Nothing really mattered because no one had six million dollars to give her. No one.
A small truth dawned on her.
No one she knew had six million dollars. Perhaps someone she didn't know had what she needed, someone who was both a bastard and a stranger.
~ * ~
Five
Ada parked near Dorrie’s house, across the street, but well within view. Mentally, she connected to the car's interface. Using invisible fingers, she reached in and grabbed until she found what she was looking for. Dorrie’s personal connection flashed on her interface screen in seconds.
"Call Dorrie," she said to the interface.
"Dialing Dorrie."
A few intermittent sounds, and the call connected.
"Hello?" Dorrie sounded unsure.
"Hi there, Dore. Can I call ya Dore?"
An intake of breath. Rustling. "Uh, who is this?" He peeked out the front window of his house.
"Hey, it's me!" Ada waved wildly, smiling just as wildly even if he was too far off to see it. "We're old hospital pals."
Dorrie jumped back from the window. "What do you want now? Thanks to you, I'll be paying outta my ass for a long time."
Her sweet tone picked up a hard edge. "Thanks to me, your fat ass is alive. I can change that at any time." He whimpered in her ear, and she grinned. "Remember when I said I wanted you to tell me everything?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me everything, right now, and I won't get out of this car. When we're done talking, I'll drive away. Simple."
His back was to her. She pictured him sweating, farting from stress, considering her offer. "I told you..."
"You told me nothing. Now I want specifics, and you're going to give them to me, or I'll join you in your living room."
Dorrie left the view of the window, probably searching for an escape route. "What else do you wanna know?"
"What does the bastard do for a living?"
"Not sure." He sounded far-away.
As they spoke, Ada connected with Dorrie’s interface, tapping into the GPS feature. On her screen, she saw a map of the surrounding area, and a green dot in the middle. The dot bounced around erratically, and moved from the back of the house to an alley.
"Dore, our deal was contingent on you staying put. Get out of the alley, go back home, and tell me what I need to know. You want me to stay in this car, right?"
Silence. Labored breathing. Then, "He's a politician"
The context of the comment took time to sink in. When Ada recovered, she asked, "What kind of politician?"
"Damnit, I don't know. A Senator, a Congressman. One of those. It's been years since we spoke, I told ya that last time," Dorrie said.
"So, he has money?"
Dorrie scoffed. "He's a Prominent. Of course he has money."
Now the silence was on Ada's end. The green dot went back and forth on the screen. Dorrie paced in his home, waiting on her answer.
"Dore, look out your window."
Slowly, he drew his curtain back to look at her car again. "Yes?"
Ada waved again. "You did good. I won't bother you again."
She drove off.
~ * ~
A thorough search of the Georgian database of politicians found nothing. Her father's name wasn't among the hundreds of Prominent servants. Either Dorrie had lied, or Corentin's name had changed. Local databases would provide her with more information, such as pictures, interface connections. She needed to be in Atlanta, and soon.
Ada considered Kressick's offer of companionship, not because she wanted protection on the road, but because she wanted money. Five-thousand dollars wouldn't last very long, especially if she was on the road alone, staying in hotels. She could sleep in her car at rest areas, but she knew better. It was as Kressick said, because interstate travel hadn't been safe for years.
If he came with her, Ada could keep her five grand until she got to Atlanta. The idea appealed to her, prompting her to call and invite Kressick over. She didn't indicate the reason behind her invitation. Ada didn't want to commit to anything, in case she changed her mind. She flip-flopped for eighteen hours on what decision to make until Kressick arrived the next afternoon.
"Hello again." Kressick said when she opened the door.
"Yes, hello."
They stared at each other until Ada coughed. She wasn't one to apologize, and she didn't want to speak first either.
"Am I going to stand out here or are you going to invite me in?" Kressick stood waiting, looking patient, but Ada sensed tension.
"You could have just asked me to move."
"But that would have been rude." Sometimes Kressick allowed his overtly British nature to shine. "Now, have you made a decision about your mother?"
He would wonder about that outcome first. Ada answered without hesitation:
"Signing her up for another loan. It's the only choice, really." She didn't tell him the rest of her plan, like how she would bilk her father out of 6 million, and then, once he was fully placated, she would kill him.
He wasn't wasting time. Ada appreciated honesty. Really, she was too tired to play word games.
"You should come with me." Kressick's company would make her trip easier. However, since Ada had opened the door to him, he had annoyed her by merely breathing. Something about him wasn't right, and Ada spoke her mind. "Only, I'm feeling like you're gonna be a real pain in the ass, so I'm thinking, no thanks."
"Well, if this sways you, I'm prepared to finance your trip. Five-thousand won't get you very far."
"No, it won't." Her tone was careful, eyes narrowed.
"Then I'm coming with. It's why you asked me over, correct?"
Was it? Ada wasn't sure what happened. She half-heartedly planned to ask Kressick to come along. Instead, he had told her he that he was coming. The wrong-ness nagged at her, and she wanted it to stop.
She held up a hand. "Wait." He was lying, had to be. No one acted altruistically, not really. "Why do you want to come with me? Are you honestly worried about my protection?"
"Yes, I am. You mother would have wanted me to help you."
Kressick looked sincere. However, he never appeared duplicitous in front of Ada. If he was capable of the emotion, she would never know. Being in a car with a possible psychopath was not a comforting thought. More digging was required, and it was work she was willing to get dirty for.
"You were with my mother for only two years. Do you really think you know what she wants for me?"
Mentioning her mother changed Kressick's expression. His eyes twitched once and after it seemed he was in control.
"I know she wouldn't want you going cross-country alone. Interstate travel is rife with interstate thugs. You must know that, if you asked me here. My wealth must have also softened your contemplations."
Kressick was not overtly tactful, and he had discerned her selfish interest in his companionship. His sharp tone was out of character. Or was it? Ada didn't really know Kressick. He could have been a killer, a fanatical Prominent member, or a closet pedophile. Neither were secrets Ada wanted to be true of this man.
"You got it. I'm only interested in your money. Is that how you hooked my mom?"
Kressick smiled. "That had to be it."
Damn, the man even turned her barb into a joke.
"Fine, you can come, but we're leaving tonight."
"Good thing all my bags are in my car." Kressick approached the front door, stopping when Ada told him they were taking her car, not his.
"We're taking the car that can't hold a charge?"
The question brought another flicker of impatience to Kressick's face.
"I bought a new battery."
Kressick returned to his calm attitude. "Alright. Where are we going?"
Ada took a minute to answer. "Georgia."
She expected more questions, but there were none.
"Don't you want to know why?"
"I don't like to pry," Kressick said.
Ada could hear the held-in laughter in his voice. It was like he knew what she was going to say and found it funny.
"Right."
~ * ~
Out on the driveway, Kressick transferred his bags from his trunk into Ada's blue station-wagon. Afterward, he input a message into his interface. He read it over twice to make sure it was devoid of spelling or grammatical errors:
I'm going with her. She trusts me, almost. I didn't have to use it to get her to say yes. Will update later.
When satisfied with the prose, Kressick hit send.
~ * ~
Six
Even though she finished packing everything else, Ada still needed one more thing from her mother's room. Every Prominent party member, no matter how destitute, made sure to purchase the same item.
When she entered the room, the wall interface switched on, set to "television" mode. Surprisingly, the volume wasn't blasting—her mother's usual preference. Even at low volume, the night's speaker had a clear voice and an even clearer agenda. "...double murder downtown. Prominents rally... Everyone must take up arms!"
Ada was barely listening. Without intending to, she responded to the announcer's last heard proclamation. "Everyone must take up arms." Her words were punctuated by the Nolecet .58 she pulled from her mother's nightstand drawer. The gun was an older model, at least five years past its prime.
Safety was on. No bullets in the chamber. Ada grabbed the box of ammunition from the same drawer. Like her mother, she had learned how to use a firearm in public school. Even with the youthful immersion, she detested guns. Which is part of why she felt every bit the hypocrite for wanting to carry the Nolecet.
Did it have anything to do with Kressick? He was hiding something, and couldn't be trusted; Cybil had hinted as much. She did not yet know who was a "for definite" on her kill list. She only knew the gun was essential to her plan.
In the drawer, she found a Clean and Clear. She recognized the clear tube affixed to the filter from the few times she had seen other people use it. The first time she had seen someone use one was on the street as a young girl. A mother and son were stepping into their home, but before they did, the mother stopped the boy and held the tube to his face. He complained, but she insisted, "for his safety". The tube was turned on, and the walls of it went from white to gray.
"Now you're clean, and you won't get sick", the mother said, looking around her as if people were listening—as Ada was.
Her eyes caught Ada's, and they filled with what Ada identified as pity. After, she had asked her mother question after question: "Why don't we use that machine? Don't you want me to be safe? What was the gray stuff in the machine? Why did the lady look at me like that?"
Gemina didn't answer the questions. Instead, she told her daughter the world was filled with certain slots, and they hadn't fallen into one of those slots. Without surety came unfairness, Gemina said, and Ada hadn't understood her mother at all. Now she did.
She picked up the Clean and Clear, only to discover the damn thing was still sealed. Might as well see if it works.
After picking off the polycarbonate seal, she put the tube to her mouth and waited. Press the green button, you dummy! Oh yeah. One press of the green button, and she felt as if her soul was being sucked from her body, but the horrible sensation was over quickly. She took the tube from her mouth. The tube was lined in black soot, and in some places, red phlegm. No wonder people drop like flies for no reason in this neighborhood. How had her mother afforded the device?
The answer came a second later. Kressick. Ada would ask him about it later, and why her mother never used it. Another mystery about the man she was about to trust with her life.
If anything happened to him on the way to Atlanta, she would have a back-up plan in the form of five thousand dollars and a boom stick.
Using her wristlet, she checked on the status of her mother from the hospital mainframe. Gemina was listed as: no change. If and when she changed, the wristlet would send Ada alerts.
A car door slammed outside, and
she checked to see if Kressick had come back. He was busy loading the bags from his car into hers. They would be able to leave soon.
~ * ~
Harmon took pride in his lawn. None of the other N.A.'s or Tramps affiliated with the neighborhood gave a damn. They let their lawn grow brown patches, or roll into brown altogether, but he would never give in.
When a brown spot dared make its mark on his lawn, he gutted it and replaced it with seeds and fresh sod. Tough work at times, and he loved it. At his age, hard work was good for the body, and he didn't mind getting down on his hands and knees to finish it.
In the position of hard work, he found himself the witness to a freakish display from his Tramp neighbor. Ada was an odd duck, and he had never liked her. She showed up for holidays with a husband who eventually didn't come around anymore. Probably found a more malleable woman, capable of taking orders instead of presuming to give them.
Gemina was all right, on her way to becoming a respectable Prominent, then she went and got sick, leaving her Tramp daughter to ruin what she built.
From his position by the fence, Harmon peered through the slits. A vigilant neighbor was a helpful neighbor. He saw Ada walking down the driveway, carrying two large duffel bags. The gal was going on a trip. He had seen the Brit packing things into the car earlier. The two were probably doing the two-headed flop and planned on taking their show on the road.
Ada didn't appear hesitant in opening her car with a small flick of blue light which shot out from her arm. When the door was open, she tossed a few bags into the back seat. Harmon shook his head. That couldn't have been right. Light just didn't appear, and it didn't come out of human bodies. Except, odd events revolved around Ada Freyr.
A month ago, he had smart-mouthed her, and she had whipped around with a retort, her eyes blazing blue. They had grown hotter, which wasn't right either, because eyes weren't hot or cold, but he could've sworn her eyes had picked up in temperature, turning a shade of white. Small sparks spurted, but when he blinked, he saw blue eyes and no sparks. Crazy, Harmon, you need new eyes.
