Psion Delta (11 page)

“Don’t
get your hopes up, Jeffsicle!” Kobe called out to her. “Kaden and I have never
lost on the same team!”

“That’s
baloney!” Natalia muttered. “Sammy, you beat them once. Remember?”

“Err
. . . ” Sammy answered, “no, not really.”

At
that moment, Major Tawhiri’s voice came over the speakers. “Hello, Psion
Betas!” He dragged out his words as if he were announcing for a major sporting
event. “It’s time. For. The. Game! Today’s winning team will receive a special
prize . . . to be determined tomorrow!”

“Is
he for real?” Brillianté asked her friends loud enough for Sammy to overhear.

“Take
your places and get ready to have a BLAST!”

6.
Orlando

Monday May 13, 2086

Filthy,
famished, fatigued,
and feeling more humiliation than she’d
endured in years, the Queen walked the streets of downtown Orlando. Maintaining
her composure required all her strength. The last week had not been kind to
her. After the fiasco at Baikonur, she had flown to the nearest Thirteen cell
in Anchorage. Access to the facility had been denied. Shocked and scrambling to
figure out why, she tried contacting Diego, but he answered none of her calls.

Her
next choice was to fly her cruiser back to her home in the mountains where she
found that her own front door no longer responded to her commands. She broke in
by smashing a window, setting off security alarms she could no longer
deactivate. Fleeing the premises before law enforcement arrived to investigate,
she took her car and tried to purchase food at the nearest grocery store, but
had no access to her money accounts. Out of starvation, she’d been forced to
steal like a disgraceful vagabond. Only one option remained: return to her
cruiser, use her remaining fuel to fly to Orlando, and see the fox for an
explanation.

Skyscrapers
loomed around her as she walked alongside Church Street. The towers provided
some shade from the blistering afternoon sun, but did nothing to help with the
humidity that clung to her skin and clothes and draped around her like a
steaming towel. The buildings, the clothes, and the thickness in the air all
suffocated her. The sensation made her skin crawl.

Focus
, she
told herself.
You are the tiger, not the rabbit.

The
semi-sheer red sundress she wore left little to the imagination. She had
strategically stolen this outfit for the effect she needed to have on the fox.

A
holographic advertisement jumped out from the electronics shop she passed.
“Back up your files! There’s no room for error when it comes to preserving a
lifetime of your best memories! Sign up today for one free petabyte of data
space in our cloud!”

No.
No room for error at all.

She
brushed that thought away as she flipped her hair back over her shoulder and
continued walking down the sidewalk. People passed her, walked by, crossed the
street in front and behind her, and browsed the windows of ground-level shops.
She loathed them all. One man, probably in his early twenties, let fly a low
whistle as she passed. The Queen glanced at him. When he saw her face, the man
grabbed his chest and said, “Poor baby, what happened? Can Papi fix it for
you?”

“You
should see the other guy,” she shot back with a full measure of contempt, never
breaking her stride.

Ordinary
people had no idea who she was or what she could do. It angered her that these
mindless ants could exist with such ignorance, walk by her, smile at her, gaze
on her beauty—
no, at my disfigured face
—and not know exactly who she was
and what power she held. She was both their protector and executioner, but they
knew nothing of her.

She
stopped in front of a massive building, one of the largest towers in the city.
A pair of large, ornate double doors announced the entrance. Both doors were
framed in gold and in the center, where the two joined, was a bright N in
gleaming purple with a golden circle of light encircling it.

A
purple explosion greeted her when she walked inside the building. A giant gold
and purple N was set into the marble floor, the lobby furniture purple velvet.
In fact, the Queen couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a purple N on
something. She ignored the gaudiness of the décor, and set her sights on
elevator thirteen. The door opened with a jolt, and the Queen nearly jumped.

If
he wanted you dead, you would be already.

She
spared only a glance at the endless list of numbers on the elevator panel. Most
of the floors were devoted to genetic research labs, administrative offices,
and business suites. She wanted floor ninety-one. The top floor. The penthouse
of the fox. A place where she had spent several nights in his company. Just
before pushing the button, an overwhelming urge to flee the elevator struck
her.
Get out of here! Run!

She
rested a clammy, unsteady finger on the button.

He
could still find me. His reach is endless.

The
elevator asked for her to scan her fingerprint, then her iris. Then the doors
closed swiftly, making no sound. The claustrophobic sensation she’d experienced
on the street returned stronger than before. She tasted her own peril; its
flavor reminded her of rotting meat.

Fear.
She hadn’t experienced it in years. It was both alien and familiar,
exhilarating and crippling.
I will not go easily if he tries. He knows that.
Killing me will not be easy at all.
The Queen flexed her fingers and hands,
ignoring the classical music playing from the speakers around her.
I’m too
tired. Perhaps my death won’t be so difficult after all. He intended to weaken
me these last few days.

The
elevator came to a stop and the music faded as the doors opened noiselessly.
Though she appeared serene stepping out of the elevator, her emotions were a
maelstrom.
I’ve survived thus far. Perhaps that is a sign of his
forgiveness.

She
stood in a small antechamber, where the purple obsession abated, but didn’t
die. Cream colored walls with elaborate gold designs and thin purple trim gave
the antechamber a beautiful and elegant aura. The doors were solidly built and
luxuriant, even to the last detail on the knobs. The carpet was plush, adorned
with cherubic designs. Near the doors, on the floor across the way, sat a small
box wrapped in brown paper. It was no bigger than half of a shoebox, but
nothing could have captured her attention more.

Trying
not to look at it, the Queen crossed the antechamber to the doors. Her movement
activated four cameras mounted around the space. Above and to the right of the
doors, a holo-screen mounted on the wall blinked to life, showing a hologram of
an unnatural-looking fox or dog resting on a lavish purple cushion. She did not
know why she found this holographic fox so aberrant, but there was something
wrong with it, something escaping her. The animal’s tail occasionally twitched
or flicked, and its mouth moved in unison with the words of the real fox whose
voice came through a speaker.

“Thank
you for your punctuality, Katie,” the fox said. His tone was neither high nor
low. No emotion could be detected except a light pleasantness. It reminded her
of the voice of someone narrating a nature program about birds.

The
Queen replied with equal care, though she doubted she could fully conceal her
own anxiety. “Will you admit me?”

“No.
It would not be safe for us to be in one another’s presence at this moment.”

The
Queen scowled. “Not safe for you or for me?”

“Both,
I think. Please sit.”

“I’ll
stand, thank you.”

The
fox’s voice became very soft. “Katie, if I planned to kill you, I would not
have waited this long. I hope you have come to proclaim your accountability.”

The
Queen did not respond immediately. Despite her relief at his words, her
instincts told her to not relax. This moment was still as fragile as a tower of
cards. “To what do you hold me accountable?”

“For
taking unauthorized orders from Victor Wrobel when you knew the decisions he
made were not aligned with my plan. For unauthorized entry into enemy territory.
For breaching security by stealing a weapon that had not been approved for
military combat. For not preventing the arrest of Wrobel. Frankly, Katie, for
not acting as I expect you to.

“You
had a gun at the boy’s head, but you did not kill him. For that I can find
fault with only you. He was unconscious and you had a gun. He emerged from the
room almost whole, you with a broken nose. Your actions resulted in no gain of
intelligence nor any advancement of my plan. Even dead, Wrobel has proved more
useful to me than you.”

The
Queen lowered her head a fraction. Every word the fox spoke were echoes of
accusations she’d already leveled at herself. Yet hearing him say them stung
far worse.

“Are
you accountable?” he asked again.

Her
voice caught in her throat as she said the words, but they still came out. “I
am.”

The
graphic of the fox smiled. The gesture brought her no comfort. She wanted to
leave quickly, but knew that would be a fatal mistake.

“Thank
you
for
not making excuses, Katie. Nothing ruins an apology like an excuse.
I
think, in time, you will regain my trust. For now, you will accept that you do
not have it, and that you must work for it.”

“Please,”
the Queen said, “I can kill him.”

“You
can’t.”

“I
bested him twice.”

“He
was weakened. There is no guarantee he will still be at the next opportunity.”

“Allow
me one more opportunity, and I will use the latest—”

“No.”
The fox’s voice silenced her. “It is too late. The plan has changed. My new
strategy, I think, will be far more effective in obtaining the goal.”

The
Queen knew nothing of any changes in the fox’s plans, but she dared not speak
those words. The fox, however, discerned her thoughts and fixed his eyes upon
her like two trained bullets seeking their mark.

“Nor
will you know for now. As I said, trust is earned.”

Forcing
her voice to remain steady and her face to freeze in its neutral expression,
she asked, “What can I do to regain your trust?” No matter how hard she tried,
she couldn’t conceal the pleading in her own voice.

“The
solution is simple.”

The
word
solution
was a punch to the Queen’s throat.
He doesn’t mean
that
solution
, she told herself, but the damage to her composure had been
done. The fox smiled again. She wasn’t sure if this time his expression was
more malicious or if her eyes had deceived her. A trickle of sweat fell from
her scalp down her temple.

“Open
the package, Katie. I think you will find the solution inside.”

The
Queen prayed that the package would not hold what she most feared. Willing her
hands to stay steady, she ripped open the parcel. Contained within the box, she
found a glass flask containing a pale red liquid. Her heart thudded in her
chest as her stomach turned over.
No, I can’t do this. I can’t drink this.
As
she picked it up, a tear fell from her left eye. She fixed her eyes on the
fox’s and imagined herself strangling him while she gouged out his eyes with
her thumbnails.

“You
promised me . . . ” she hissed at him.

“You
broke the agreement—”

“You
promised me!”

“I
warned you.”

“YOU
PROMISED ME!” She shook the bottle of solution in her fist. It fizzed angrily
against the glass.

“Drink
it.” The cold fury in the fox’s voice was warning enough. The Queen knew if she
protested anymore, she would be killed. With the twist of her wrist, the
stopper popped out, and a second tear fell, this time from her right eye. “All
of it.”

The
smell emanating from the nozzle was foul and burned her nose. She brought the
bottle to her lips and drank. The taste was terribly bitter and stung her lips,
tongue, gums, and throat all the way down. Her stomach cramped and she clutched
it, doubling over, trembling from the heat rippling across her body. Saliva
fell freely from her lips as she fought away waves of sickness.

“Now
you are common. You are like every other Thirteen and Aegis. How do you like
that, Katie?”

Shut
up. Shut up. I hate you.
These words became a mantra that she
repeated several times until the pains of peristalsis subsided.

“I
said, ‘How do you like that, Katie?’” he repeated. The perfect calm had
returned to his voice once more.