The Rule of Luck (14 page)

That earned me a long blink. “Their rule includes a policy of strict control and monitoring through the CN-net, and they use those same gifts as means of punishing dissenters. People's rights are guaranteed, to a point. We are the children and they are the parents looking out for our welfare. What few realize is that we're prisoners, not children. Where are the innovation and the growth? What if there was a way to stretch our reach as humans and become more as a species, but One Gov is holding us back? Do we really need that sort of leadership anymore?”

“And you think the Consortium will give us more freedom? Freedom to do what?” I fought back a shiver, suddenly nervous about whatever he might be implying. What did I really know about Alexei Petriv? Not much, and what I didn't know might be terrifying. “Does Petriv have some scheme up his sleeve that's going to change the world? No, that's going to change…humans?”

“I assume you disapprove and things are fine as they are. One Gov should remain in control of humanity's destiny forever as far as you're concerned.”

Wow, I needed to tone this down quickly. This attitude was so not what I'd expected from him. “Look, I'm not here to fight you or debate the destiny of the human race. I can see we're just going to have to disagree on this. However you feel about One Gov, it probably isn't the smartest idea to bash them in their own home. MH Factor for improved hearing isn't popular, but you can bet the security here have it,” I warned, then eyed him speculatively. “Not to get you all riled up again, but I wouldn't have pegged you as a reformist.”

“And I wouldn't have imagined you dabbled in curses. My compliments, by the way.”

I laughed. Much as I loathed the man, I couldn't help but offer up a bow. “She asked for it. How could I resist?” Then I sobered as I glanced around. “This is a pretty posh event for a lowly assistant to attend. You sure my mother isn't here?”

“The intel gathered from the guest list doesn't show her as attending. Furthermore, her research keeps her at the head office in Curitiba. I don't believe she leaves Brazil often. My understanding is her assistant spends a great deal of time traveling and submits biweekly progress reports.”

“If he's here, you'd better find him while I work the crowd. I don't know anything about him, not even what he looks like, so it's all up to you.”

That seemed to bring Mr. Pennyworth up short, like I'd cut him off mid-thought. “By all means. Let's get started.”

I arched an eyebrow. “That almost sounds like sarcasm. This is your rodeo. I suggest you get busy.”

I'd planned on saying more, if only to get my digs in, when something snagged my attention. From the corner of my eye I caught a flash of something familiar. I heard a laugh I'd heard a thousand times before. I turned and stopped and stared.

Less than twenty feet away was a dark-haired woman, heavily pregnant. She stood at a roulette table, clapping and laughing. Presumably she'd won. I didn't know nor did it matter. What
did
matter was who stood beside her, arm around her with easy grace. Looking so in love, it was a wonder they didn't produce enough energy between them to solve the Earth's potential HE-3 shortage.

Roy.

“There's the assistant,” I heard Mr. Pennyworth say, his voice sounding as if it came from thousands of miles away. “By the roulette table. I believe he's with his wife.”

With calmness I didn't feel, I turned to Pennyworth. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. I received several long blinks in return.

“I don't understand.” I said, because for that split second, I didn't. My brain couldn't make the images fall into a pattern that made sense.

“That's the assistant,” Mr. Pennyworth repeated. “He's the man you must discredit.”

My gut didn't kick me, and yet everything abruptly clicked like a jigsaw falling into place. Roy, his wife, his baby on the way. Roy, who already lived the perfect life, without me. Roy, who was supposed to be on duty right now as a member of Mars Planetary Law Enforcement.

“Roy is my mother's assistant,” I said aloud, just to make sure I had it right.

“Yes.”

“The woman with him is his wife. She's having his baby.” In my mind's eye, I could see the spinning Wheel of Fortune.

Again, the same answer: “Yes.”

That was when I snapped. Not out loud, of course. Inside, I felt something shatter. Everything I'd felt for Roy. Everything we'd done together. The plans we made. The possibility of a baby that didn't even exist yet. That I'd even gone to jail because of it…Our whole relationship from our first meeting nearly a year ago to our last kiss—was it yesterday?—was all lies. Every second of every day for all that time…Lies. To Roy, I had been nothing. Meant nothing. Gods, I was just a
job
! I was a nine-to-five, punch out at the end of the day, job. And when he wasn't with me, which was often because he was supposedly working undercover with the MPLE, was he with her? With his goddamn pregnant
wife
?

“Ms. Sevigny?” Mr. Pennyworth's voice broke into my thoughts. When I looked at him, my eyes felt overly bright, like they were full of tears that refused to fall because that would mean everything I saw before me was true. “I've been calling you for some time. Are you well? Would you like to sit?”

“No. I don't want to sit. I want to…” I shook my head harder than I intended. I didn't know what I wanted. Tears went flying off in all directions. “Did he know? Gods, did Petriv know about this?”

Several long blinks followed. “Yes. But if he had told you and you hadn't witnessed the proof yourself, would you have believed him?”

“No. I'd have said he was lying.” Then I flinched, thinking about the guilt I'd felt over being with Petriv, believing I'd betrayed Roy when now it turned out that Roy had been the one betraying me all along.

“He wanted you to see firsthand the levels of manipulation around you, orchestrated both by TransWorld and your mother.”

In the background I could hear the woman's laughter. Then Roy's. I swiped at my eyes, scrubbing the wetness from my cheeks. No more crying. Not where the world could see how much it hurt me.

“I can't fault his logic, but he's a fucking bastard,” I whispered. Another tear fell and I swore under my breath. No. No more tears. Not now.

“You've seen what he intended. We should leave,” he suggested.

Fuck no. Not yet. I shook my head and instead asked, “How does my makeup look?”

“I don't understand your question.”

“How does my makeup look?” I repeated, the first spark of anger beginning to flare. Gods, was he stupid? “Does it look like I was crying?”

He frowned and I received several long blinks. “You look adequate.”

“Adequate? What the hell does that even mean? Who tells a woman she looks adequate?”

“Ms. Sevigny, I don't understand your line of questioning. It doesn't seem relevant to this situation.”

I blew out a hard puff of air. “Oh, believe me. It's
very
relevant.”

“You're angry,” he prodded.

“Not quite yet, but give me time and I'll be fucking furious.”

I turned from Mr. Pennyworth and took a halting step forward. Then two. A few more and I'd crossed to the roulette table. It didn't take long for Roy to notice me. After all, who could miss a woman standing on the other side of the table, watching with an unblinking stare?

Roy met my gaze and froze, his face a rictus of horror. He was so stunned he couldn't even speak. The woman looked up as well. She looked startled, then alarmed.

I smiled and knew it wasn't pleasant. I didn't yell, put on a show, scream, cry, or do any of the things a hysterical woman would do. Maybe because I'd lived this moment before with Dante and had used up all my hysterics. Maybe you were only allowed to lose your mind because of a man once in a lifetime. I wasn't that girl anymore, cutting her teeth on her first real relationship. I'd cried too much over one man already. Maybe deep down I'd been expecting this all along. Or maybe I'd gone into shock. Whatever the case, it didn't matter. I leaned in as close as the table would allow.

“Hello, Roy.”

“Felicia! What are you doing here?” Roy cried, spilling his drink all over his hand and jacket. Water beaded on the material and dripped off. His hand shook. “I thought you weren't going to the auction. I would never…You said…”

His voice faded to nothing. My presence had stolen all words.

“And this is your wife,” I continued, not making it a question. “Does she know about our relationship? Does she know what you do for my mother?”

Roy had gone so pale, even his lips were drained of color. He set his glass down with a thud, spilling the remaining liquid. “Felicia—”

“He tracks your movements and reports back to TransWorld.” The woman's chin tipped up in defiance. “He's been doing it for months. He said in all the time you worked together, you never suspected him of being anything more than a friend.”

Gods, he'd lied to both of us! “Friend? Is that what he told you I was? His
friend
? Like a work buddy or something? Wow. No, I never suspected anything—probably because I thought he was my boyfriend and we've been living together the past few months. You tend to overlook the discrepancies in a man's story when there's mind-blowing sex involved,” I added just so I could enjoy the look of horror on her face.

There were so many other things I could have said, but I didn't. Mostly because my stunted thoughts wouldn't let me adequately express everything I wanted to spew forth. Instead, I faced Roy and kept it simple. “Be sure to let my mother know I'm done with the games and the lies.”

“Felicia, let me explain!”

“I really don't think there's any explanation in existence that covers what this is. I will destroy you for this, even if it takes the rest of my life. You are dead to me.”

Then I turned and walked away from the life I'd always believed I wanted.

Mr. Pennyworth reached me first, taking my arm in a firm grip. “Did you say all you needed to?”

I looked from his hand to his face, confused more than anything. “I think so.”

“Was the sex as mind-blowing as you claim?”

Gods, had I said that? “No. I did all the work until it wasn't even fun anymore.”

That earned me a brisk nod. “We need to leave. TransWorld security is moving to intercept.”

I looked around, noting sudden motion around us. Several large men wended toward us, the crowd parting for them as they drew closer. Their build and sheer size reminded me of Petriv's chain-breakers, but these men were dressed to blend with the crowd. One approached from the right. One from the left. One in front. Mr. Pennyworth began a causal, but purposeful stroll in the other direction.

“Why would they do that?” I asked, both stumped and startled by the whole thing.

“The stakes are high and you are a piece in the game that has made an unexpected move. The first act would be to put you back in play: you would be captured, your memories modified, then shipped back to Nairobi, none the wiser.”

I gasped, horrified. “You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not. I know how TransWorld does business. You don't stay on top without a certain amount of ruthlessness. If they can't modify your behavior, they may kill you. It depends on your perceived value.”

“Why would I be valuable?”

“Your luck,” he said, as if it should be obvious to any idiot. “Step lively, Ms. Sevigny. I've sniped into the mainline CN-net here and a mass transit pod will be waiting at the front entrance. Mrs. Ivchenko will meet you at the hotel.”

Mr. Pennyworth rushed us through the crowd. Those who didn't step aside were sent sprawling. I stumbled after him, his hand on my arm the only thing holding me upright. Panic blossomed in my chest. These people would kill me. Or worse—alter my memories. A few days ago, I'd known nothing about this world. Now I was drowning in chaos while running for my life. I wanted to scream at Pennyworth to make it all stop, but could only follow where he led. I cast a look back. The security detail was gaining ground.

“I encourage you to hurry, Ms. Sevigny, not enjoy the sights.”

“Don't be an asshole! I am hurrying!”

A hand reached out and caught the trailing fabric of my dress. I heard material tear as an outer layer of chiffon ripped away. Pennyworth hauled me down a flight of stairs—I missed at least three and lost a shoe—and ran us through the main lobby. We skidded across the marble floor, barely missing the reflecting pool and the cascading series of waterfalls positioned in the center of the lobby.

The main doors were already open as new guests flowed into the auction. Pennyworth dove through and pulled me into the chilly night air. Then with unexpected strength, he scooped me off the ground and pushed me into a waiting pod. The pod door shut with a gentle
whoosh
of suctioned air, and I whirled around the second I got my balance.

I was alone. Pennyworth remained outside on the sidewalk, hands raised in a fighting stance.

I pounded on the window. “What the hell are you doing? Get in here!”

No response other than a single glance back. Three men advanced. Two lunged for him, while the third moved to intercept the pod. Pennyworth dodged the first two and reached for the man racing for my pod. He caught him easily, grabbing the man's left wrist the way you might pluck a lazy bug out of the air. Even from inside the pod, I heard bone crunch. The man grunted and went down. When he tried to get up, Mr. Pennyworth delivered a kick to his knee. I heard another sickening crunch and the man didn't rise again. Then Pennyworth engaged the remaining two men. The first was tossed aside. The other leaped onto his back, taking him down. Then his partner recovered and hauled himself upright and they both proceeded to beat Pennyworth to a bloody pulp.