A Long, Long Sleep (17 page)

He ripped the door off the skimmer and dropped it on the road with a clang.

The operator cowered inside the vehicle.

“My directive requires transport,” he announced. “I am com mandeering this vehicle.” He climbed in without further preamble.

The Plastine ignored the terri fied occupant as he slid out the open door. There was no reason to terminate a bystander who was not trying to hinder him.

Mr. Guillory’s cell beeped the moment we entered the hotel room. “Reggie,” he said, switching it on.

“Mr. Guillory, I thought you’d like to know,” said the voice I recognized as his secretary. He’d been talking to her on and off the whole afternoon. “They’ve located the Plastine. I’m downloading the report into your screen now.”

“That’s wonderful,” Guillory said, and he opened up his screen.

I crept behind him to see. A holorecording, looking distorted and strange on the flat screen, showed my shiny plastic attacker jumping into the middle of a road. While the hover skiffs behind the Plastine bounced back and forth between the magnetic pedestrian strips, like pucks on an air hockey table, the Plastine ripped the door off a now rather battered skiff and drove off. Another shot from a different angle showed the occupant of the hover skiff falling onto the road, rolling, and keeping flat as half a dozen hover skiffs passed harmlessly over his head.

Then the scene changed. I couldn’t hear the newscaster’s voice, but someone was interviewing the man, who had a scrape on his cheek from his high- speed fall onto the road.

Mr. Guillory’s secretary continued. “The police say the Plastine is hard to track, and he appears to have disabled the satellite link in the skimmer, but they should have him apprehended within the hour.”

“Thank you, Stella. Keep us updated.” He turned back to me. “Well. See? I told you it would all be all right.”

I took a deep breath. If nothing else, I was now certain that this thing existed.

Guillory poked at his screen to check the time. “There’s this great open- air restaurant down by the base of the horn,” he said. “Care to join me?”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t eat,” I said.

“Suit yourself. This whole suite is ours. Your room is down that corridor; mine’s just off here. You can turn the music or the holoview as loud as you like. All the rooms here are soundproof. Anything you need, don’t hesitate to contact room service. You have my cell code?”

I nodded, and Guillory left me to my own devices.

I felt uncomfortable in this room. I’d been in rooms like it, usually at charity balls with my mother. I was always on display at those balls, more a prop than a person. Just as Guillory reminded me of a golden statue, this room reminded me of a jewelry box. Just the thing to house that golden statue. I sighed and went to find the bathroom.

Since the bath had done me such good the night before, I drew another in the opulent bathroom and sank into the purified and imported water. I knew the source of the water shouldn’t make a difference, but it all felt false to me, like drawing a computer image instead of using oil paints. After my bath I climbed into a fresh uniform, leaving the bag and everything else in the bathroom.

I went into the central room of the suite, automatically scanning the room for my notescreen. It wasn’t near ten yet, but Otto might be worried. Then I remembered that I didn’t have my notescreen with me. I could probably have used Guillory’s, but he hadn’t left it available, and I wasn’t about to go poking through someone’s screen without their permission. So much for talking to Otto. For today, anyway. I idly wondered if Guillory’s secretary had called yet, to con firm the Plastine’s capture. Perhaps I could go home tomorrow? I really did want to talk to Otto. He’d find this place hilarious. UniCorp playing god, with their man- made islands and their man- made people. I wondered about Dr. Bija, too, if Guillory or anyone had bothered telling her where I was. I was afraid I might miss my next appointment. Otto, Dr. Bija, Zavier, my studio . . . I hadn’t realized it until this moment, but I really had created something of a life.

Now I was worried — what if this attacker meant that I would lose my new life, too?

I debated turning on the holoview I saw in the corner, but decided against it. I glanced at the clock. I opened the window to the balcony, and the sound of the ocean washed over me. Despite being gilded and expensive, the room was fairly comfortable. I curled up on the chaise longue with my sketchbook, but I soon found myself nodding. With a hint of relief, I let myself fall asleep to the sound of the surf outside.

My rest was interrupted. Mr. Guillory burst loudly into the room. “Rosalinda!

I’m glad you’re up!”

I blinked, bleary- eyed. It was pitch- dark outside, and the scent of the air had that peculiar lightness that occurs sometime after midnight.

Guillory had changed from his blue suit into a yellowish brown lounge suit, obviously his idea of casual wear. He glanced at the open patio for a moment before sliding the glass door closed, shutting out the sound of the false surf. He headed over to the bar and poured himself a drink. “I was half- afraid you’d have gone to bed.”

“I fell asleep here,” I mumbled, trying to figure out a way of saying, I really should find my room now.

“Good, good,” Guillory said, not really hearing me. He turned around with a drink in his hand and pulled one of the gilded chairs a little closer to my chaise, sitting down rather heavily. In his brown suit, perched in the golden chair, with the glass of amber fluid in his hand, he looked like a statue of an Egyptian pharaoh, half- god, overlooking his domain. The ice in his glass glinted like diamonds.

“So,” he said. “Rosalinda. You know, I’ve been thinking. It was such a surprise when you joined our little UniCorp family. Rejoined, I should say. When I first met you, I thought I really knew you. I thought I had you pegged. But I realize I don’t. I just made up some image of you. You’re not very much like your parents, are you.”

I sat a little straighter and gripped my sketchbook. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I know,” Guillory said with a smile. “I’m running their company, after all.

Quite a legacy, that is. You know, Jackie was real heavy into charities. Balls and such, that kinda thing.”

“Yes, I know,” I said, put off by the casual way he’d called Mom Jackie. “We’d go shopping for matching dresses and she’d take me to charity galas, balls, dinners, poker tournaments.”

“That must have been a lot of fun,” Guillory said. “Must have gotten a lot of attention, two beautiful women walking in like bookends. Your mother, she was a real hot- looking woman back in the day. I’ve seen pictures. Looked a lot like you, you know.”

I swallowed. This was making me uncomfortable. “Thanks,” I whispered.

“No wonder she landed your dad, huh? Most powerful man in the world.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said.

“No, really,” Guillory said. He leaned forward in his chair, as if telling me a secret. “Forget what anyone says. Forget the elected of ficials and the world leaders and the religious icons. They’re all well and good, but power —the real power — lies with people like you and me.”

I wasn’t sure I was glad he’d included me in that statement.

“Your father knew what he was doing,” Guillory continued, leaning back in his chair again. He took a sip of his drink. “Think about it. Multitier the company so that if any one section folds, the others can compensate. I mean, they got their NeoFusion, but then they just got their fingers into everything.

Handpicked a selection of truly remarkable people to rule. They’re the true royalty of the worlds, mark my words. And quite a legacy they’ve left behind, too: the company, the colonies, ComUnity, that school of yours.”

That thought seemed to derail him. He took another sip of his drink. “So tell me. That school. When I put you in Uni Prep, I was hoping you’d only be around the best people. How’s that working for you?”

The best people? “Um . . . good, I guess.”

“I’ve been looking over your report cards,” he said, and my eyes widened. My report cards went to him? I hadn’t even seen them yet! Unless he had access to the school’s records. If he had access to the school’s records, did he have access to Dr. Bija’s? Weren’t school grades supposed to be confidential between you and your guardian? Which should mean Barry and Patty, right?

I didn’t have time to fret over that too much, because he continued: “Not very impressive. I’ve been wondering if there’s any better place for you.” He frowned at me. “Had you ever thought about boarding school?”

“ I — I thought Uni Prep was a boarding school,” I said in a panic. I’d never been to a boarding school, but the few times I’d asked my parents about them, they’d told me nothing but horror stories: how the children were whipped and starved by the teachers and sexually molested by the other students, how the prestigious children were frequently kidnapped and held hostage. They could take much better care of me than any boarding school. Now they were gone, and Guillory was going to send me away?

“Well, maybe,” he said, looking down at his drink. It had nothing but ice in it.

He stood up to go to the bar to pour another. “Too soon to think about changing you now, anyway,” he said. “You’ve only been alive, what, two months?”

He couldn’t send me away. I’d make my grades look better. I had to study harder. I swallowed as he fell back into his chair.

“You know, Rosalinda, I remember when I was a kid, my parents always used to ask me about my dreams and aspirations.”

I frowned. Where was this going?

“You got any dreams and aspirations?”

“Um . . .” I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. At the moment, my biggest dream was sleeping through the night without a nightmare. My fondest wish was not to be hunted by a militant animated corpse bent on my termination. I also had an aspiration to get out of this conversation, but I couldn’t quite see how I could do that. “I used to have some,” I said. “But the world has changed a lot.”

“Yeah!” Guillory said, raising his glass as if to toast. “It sure has.” He looked up at his glass and frowned, suddenly realizing that might not have been the best tack to take. “I’m real sorry about your folks, honey,” he said, lowering his glass. I was about to say thank you when he continued, “But in the end, come on. Aren’t you having more fun now?”

I stared at him, appalled. My world had died around me, and he thought I was having more fun?

“I mean, when I was a kid, I would have given my left arm to not be supervised all the time. Able to do what I wanted to do. But, nope, had to have parents on me all the time. Didn’t even have any brothers or sisters to take the pressure off. Did you have brothers or sisters?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Me too. I was an only child, just like my son. Only had the one son. Hank. I always wanted to have a daughter,” he said.

I wasn’t sure if he was saying he hadn’t wanted his son or not. He took another sip of his drink and tilted his head at me. “Hank’s in college right now. Sure wish you could meet my boy. He’ll be home for the holidays. We’ll have a party so you two could get together.” Here he snickered with a certain lascivious tone. “Never know what might come of that.”

I couldn’t suppress a shudder.

He stood up and headed back to the bar. I hadn’t noticed that he’d drained his glass. How many had that been now? The third, at least, and I was pretty sure he’d had more than a little before he’d woken me up. He shoveled some ice into a second glass and filled it. “You want a glass?” he asked, holding it out to me.

“No.”

He shrugged and poured my half glass into his own. “You know, speaking of your parents,” he said. We hadn’t been. “You know, at the end there, your dad was real messed up. He just couldn’t cope. Probably just as well he passed on.

If he’d continued, he’d have left the place in a hell of a mess. And at least he didn’t go alone! They both went together; left the company in good hands.” He was waving the glass around as he stood there, and I felt completely trapped. I was trying to figure out how to excuse myself when he said, “Dark Times and all. What happened was probably the best thing for everybody, all in all.”

My body seemed to melt, in pure shock. The blood left my face. All I could do was stare at him. How could he possibly say that? How could he say that the death of more than half the people on the planet was the best thing for everybody?

“I always felt that way,” he continued as if he could hear my horror and was defending his stance. He took a big swallow from his glass before heading back to his chair. He nearly tripped when his feet got to the carpet, but he righted himself and plunked down heavily into his golden crushed- velvet chair. “It was amazing what your dad tried to do, though. Hold the company together like he did. You know, with so many folks gone. So many of UniCorp’s employees died during the Dark Times that we didn’t have to lay too many off. Not like some places. Not that we haven’t had our own little Dark Times, too, you know. Hell, the company had its ups and downs, like I told you. Lost a lot of money, now and then. Ten years ago, when the stocks were down, we had to let so many go.

Lost a lot of good people. Hell, I was working so many hours, I nearly lost my own wife, too.”

I did not want to hear this. I did not want to hear this.

“I found a little friend in the of fice that helped me a lot,” he continued doggedly. “She’s the hardest worker, you know?

She makes me feel young again.”

I flushed. This was a piece of information I did not need, did not want, and wanted to forget — now. What was I supposed to do with this knowledge? It wasn’t any of my business!

“Feel almost as young as you,” he went on, and I turned rose red again. “You know, we’re just going to have to set you up with someone. What’s going on with you and that Sabah fellow? What’s his name?”