Hyperthought (12 page)

“Merida.” I drew a quick breath. How did she know I was coming? That stupid call I’d made to Jin’s father? Or had Vincente betrayed me?

“We’ve been tracking you by GPSNS,” she said.

I felt hyper-lame for not guessing that.

“Where’s Jin?” I said.

“You think you’ve rushed in to rescue him? Jolie, he’s achieving everything he hoped for. Come in, pet. You’ll soon discover which one of us he prefers.”

Her voice vibrated through a cheap amplification system. Oh no, Merida hadn’t come to greet me in person. My eyes were adjusting to the floodlights, and when I held up my hand as a shield, I could just make out three tall figures moving toward me. Merida’s amplified voice buzzed, “Please allow my staff to escort you, Jolie. We’ll meet soon. I promise.”

Her “staff” consisted of three featureless cybergoons with gleaming platinum skin and dark gray uniforms void of insignia. They grabbed me, stripped me to my purple paisley bodysuit, confiscated my gear, and marched me double-time through one of the strangest corridors I’d ever seen. The first part seemed new, cheap and plain, but we soon dropped off into an old, dank cellar, then climbed spiral stairs and passed through a grand hall with crystal chandeliers and musty carpet. Apparently to save money, Merida had assimilated random parts of the old city ruins into her habitat.

The goons prodded me into a small, unpainted cell without furnishings of any kind. One of them handed me a basket of moist towels. I put the towels to use. The guards’ presence didn’t bother me. I’d learned to forgo the conventions of physical modesty. I dropped my filthy bodysuit on the floor and scrubbed my skin, scouring away that putrid moisture that might have been toxic sea fluid or maybe just nervous sweat. When I’d finished, Merida’s towels were stained beyond redemption.

As soon as the three goons left, I checked the place out. Steel walls as thick as a vault, recessed light-strips in the ceiling, probably hidden cam-eyes, too. The door was electronically sealed. No way to escape. All I could do was wait for Merida to keep her promise. Adrienne, you don’t have to say a word. I know I should have planned, but how’s a person supposed to plan for the unknown?

After a short while, a middle-aged Japanese woman brought me a tray of food and a thread-bare kimono. She was human, not cyborg. Fine lines webbed her face, and wiry silver threads grizzled her raven hair. But she had a sweet, wide, motherly smile. She placed the tray on the floor and crossed her hands over her round belly. “The noodles are good. Sorry, no table.”

I wrapped myself in the kimono, and the woman helped me tie the plastic belt in back. The cloth felt stiff and cheap. When I sat on the floor, she knelt beside me and poured my cup full of piping hot green tea. Then she smiled and made an eating motion with her hands and mouth. The noodles smelled savory, and believe me, I was famished, so I picked up the chopsticks and dug in.

“Who are you?” the woman asked when I paused to gulp tea.

She had to be a prote, a maid or cook or something. I studied her as I upended the chipped teacup. She wore a faded kimono like mine and funny sandals. No makeup or jewelry, no indication of status. She peered at me with kind, blinking eyes. I decided I liked her.

“I’m Jolie. Jin’s friend. Do you know Jin Sura?”

She smiled and shook her head apologetically. “I do not have that honor.”

“What about Suradon Sura? Have you heard that name?” I asked.

Her eyes widened, and she spoke solemnly, “He is my lord.”

I said, “Huh?”

“I belong to him.” She lowered her eyelids. “Lord Suradon sent me here to serve the doctor.”

“Suradon and Merida are in league together?” I nearly choked on a mouthful of noodles. Then I remembered. Jin said they’d formed a partnership.

The serving woman was blinking her eyes and biting her lip. My question had upset her. Right. No point quizzing this simple lady. I invited her to sit down beside me, and we began to chat. She said her name was Matji. She told me about her duties in the kitchen and the daughters she’d left back in Japan. I told her about Jin. Of course, she knew of her boss’s only son, but she’d never seen him. She never watched movies, she said. That luxury wasn’t allowed to kitchen staff.

When I told her how handsome Jin was and how fans idolized him, she fluttered her eyelashes with pleasure. Matji seemed to think Jin’s status reflected well on her own, since she belonged to his family. I declare, the woman accepted her slavery without a notion of protest. I didn’t want to upset her by arguing.

So I asked her what Suradon Sura was like.

“He is my lord,” she repeated, as if that should explain everything. “He guards the people’s welfare,” she said, and “He loads our table with bounty,” along with other trite drivel that sounded like verbatims from a propaganda ROM.

Naturellement. I kept asking for more. Jin’s meta-magnate father intrigued me. What was he like close up? How did he treat his servants? Did Matji like him? Finally, she gave me this cryptic reply: “He is a man who seeks to gather the wind in his fist.”

When I said, “Huh?” Matji’s face crinkled in a merry grin that squeezed her eyes almost shut. She rocked silently on her haunches, obviously enjoying my confusion. I couldn’t get her to say anything more about the mighty Lord Suradon.

Pots of tea materialized as if by magic. Matji told me the tea contained a medicine to cleanse my body of any ocean toxins that might have penetrated my surfsuit. That was great news to me, and I thanked her. We talked for a long time. I’m not usually so voluble, but Matji drew me out.

People always loved my scary trip stories, and the more I told them, the more hair they grew. So I told Matji about “Jolie’s Trip to Tierra del Fuego.” We’d copter-jetted six clients in for an afternoon picnic—only to find a bunch of Cartel pharmacy lords already parked there, negotiating a profit split under a big green flapping tent. Lots of jet-black cyborgs were strolling around with weapons. Wouldn’t you know, my numbhead Commie clients starting shooting video. The Cartel took my whole group hostage on the spot, and they sent me back to Greenland to arrange this mega-ransom. They kept my clients locked up for five days, but the loopy execs thought the whole thing was staged for their entertainment. That trip earned me my biggest tip ever.

Matji didn’t seem all that interested in Jolie’s Trips. She asked about my family. I explained about being a leftover kid, but incredible as it sounds, Matji had never heard of the big toxic die-off that hit Euro when Earth’s climate changed. Matji had even less education than me. I told her about growing up in the Paris tunnels with a pack of righteous thieves led by ten-year-old Uncle Qués. Then I described the mystical surfsuit that had changed the course of my life.

Talking about friends in Euro made me sad. That led to the war and the rescue project and my friends in Palmertown. Not surprisingly, Matji hadn’t heard anything about the war. Mes dieux, but I babbled. I told her about Adrienne and Jonas, but that just made me miss them more. I grew sentimental about Luc. I told Matji how I’d raised him, and how he’d fallen in love and didn’t need me anymore. When I starting getting weepy, Matji patted my shoulder.

At some point, my head began to spin. I lost track of up and down. Then I slumped forward and realized I couldn’t see. My eyelids had closed. I must have fallen asleep in mid-sentence. When I jerked awake, Matji smiled. Her face had changed. Her mouth looked wider man before, and her black eyes had grown rounder. She didn’t even look Japanese. “Sleep, pet,” she crooned in a voice like syrup, as I rolled over and fell into the dark.

After hearing this, you’re going to say that I am a deeply witless and gullible fool. You would be right. I wish it weren’t so, but only after I woke up on the bare floor with a pounding hangover did I realize that Matji had been Merida in disguise. She had wheedled out of me every factoid that might possibly be used against me—the names of my friends, my politics, my psychological weak points—she had me cold.

But why, I asked myself. Why did she allow me to enter her secret habitat so easily? What use did she expect to make of me? Clearly, she had something in mind.

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. As soon as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, my cell door opened, and one of the guards appeared with another pot of steaming tea. You can imagine how much I wanted Merida’s tea. The guard also gave me a slice of fragrant seedcake, but I threw that on the floor. I wasn’t going to ingest anything else in this place if I could help it.

“Jolie, child, you’ll be sorry you didn’t eat” Merida stood in the door, curling her wide lips at me. My kimono had come undone, and I pulled it together fast over my bare chest

She said, “Your belt’s untied. Let me help you.”

I backed off and tied it myself.

“Have your own way.” Her cheerful laugh sounded to me like barking.

The three cyberguards had entered behind her. I noticed they were low-budget models, built for strength, not intelligence. One of them flipped open a small folding stool and placed it on the floor of my cell. Then he drew from his chest pocket a flat black case, a Net node. I ogled the thing with a covetous heart as he arranged it on the stool. Merida spoke an activation command, and a holographic projection filled the air above the node. It was Luc.

I held my breath. The image was being recorded by an overhead camera, probably hidden, and I had a wicked feeling it was being transmitted in real time. Luc was sitting in his office at the furniture co-op, searching the Net. I knew he was hunting for me. His favorite silver cybernails gleamed on all ten of his fingertips as he flashed them through a tiny holographic matrix of icons. Luc always preferred the holo-interface. He said it worked faster than voice command. A pretty young boy—not Trinni—was standing behind Luc’s chair, massaging Luc’s shoulders. Luc grinned at the boy and patted his hand.

When the projection faded, Merida gurgled deep in her throat, an unholy sound. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Your cher infant. So fair and delicate.” She spoke with her syrupy Spanic lilt “You see, Jolie, we know his ways. We watch him every instant. The boy with him, that’s Miguel, my agent. Don’t make us angry, pet.”

“What do you want?” I said. Jin called me “pet.” On Merida’s tongue, it sounded dirty.

She commanded the Net node to display another scene. I saw my Durban Bee materialize in holographic shimmer. Its camouflage field had been deactivated. It stood naked in full sunlight among the rocks of the Sierra Nevadas, surrounded by Nome.Com troopers. I had counted on the Bee to take me away from this place, once I reached the surface again. I had thought the Bee would be safe.

“Aren’t those troopers a nuisance? It seems they’ve found your ride.” Merida’s red mouth split in a gloating smile.

Suddenly, my Durban Bee exploded in an orange fireball. “No,” I breathed. The troopers were spraying it with napalm. My Bee collapsed in the flames like a wad of blackened tissue. Numbly, I watched it topple over and roll down the mountain. My way home. Gone.

“It appears your stay with us may be longer than you anticipated. Don’t worry, pet. Mi casa, su casa.”

I snarled.

Merida circled around me, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of turning to face her. She spoke another command, and the holographic display changed to show Jin lying motionless in a narrow bed. His face was turned away from the light, and his closed eyes were sunken in shadow. I saw tubes dripping liquid into a port in his neck.

I spoke through clenched teeth. “What have you done to him?”

“He’s done this himself,” Merida said, circling around in front of me. “There’s no medical reason for this coma. He simply won’t wake up.” She touched Jin’s holographic face and sighed. “It’s psychological withdrawal.”

“Withdrawal from you!” I raised my fist and sprang at her.

She laughed as her guard grabbed me and slung me around in its metallic arms. “Jolie, there’s no need for anger. I’m not your enemy.”

“I’ll kill you, I swear!”

“You a murderess? No, pet. You don’t have the strength of character for that.”

I wiped the saliva that had sprayed down my chin and glared at her. I knew she was probably right.

“Wouldn’t you like to see Jin?” Her Spanic accent thickened. “You can talk to him, sí? He’s fond of you. Maybe you can bring him around.”

I struggled against the guard’s rough embrace. “That’s why you let me in? To bring Jin out of the coma?”

She looked me straight in the eye. “Would you rather not?”

“Naturellement I’ll help Jin!” I shouted.

Merida smiled, a loose, ugly, quivering smile. She leaned toward me until her stiff black curls brushed my forehead. The guard held me so I couldn’t move away. “I knew you would, pet. You have a generous heart.”

She turned on her heel, and the guard shoved me after her, out into the corridor. “This way!” she said in crisp Net English.

RIGHT IN THE
very next cell to mine, Jin lay unconscious. I couldn’t believe I’d slept all night just a wall away from him. Why didn’t my lizard brain sing out? Merida didn’t stop me when I rushed to his bedside and took his hand. How thin his wrist had grown. No one had cut his hair. His eyelashes were caked with dried tears.

“Jin.” I touched his shoulder. There was no response. He lay rigid.

Merida eyed me with an appraising glance and then left. The witch! She hadn’t needed threats to force my cooperation—she should have known me better. I took some comfort in that as I pulled a chair up close beside Jin’s pillow. The room smelled of chemicals. Blank sourceless light reflected from the steel walls.

“Jin, it’s me, Jolie.” I squeezed his arm to make sure he was real. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My love, my idol, in living flesh. After everything that had happened, it seemed too much like a dream.

All day I talked to him, sometimes crying, sometimes kissing him, sometimes stroking his wasted body through the paper-thin hospital wrapper he wore. I told him about my funny trip down the double-headed cliff in Vincente’s old dive sphere. I explained how Jonas had retrieved that last vidmail and how badly it scared me. “Fear the light. What did you mean by that, Jin? You wanted me to come, right? You said you wished I was here. Bien, I’m here now, Jin. I’m right beside you.” He never stirred.