Zero Sum (29 page)

Jules knocked off her blanket. “About fockin’ time!” (I couldn’t help but think that Jules had shrugged off all that sleep a wee-bit too quick.)

Indifferent, Rei gestured to the TV. “I am wondering: why do so many of these extended commercials proffer exercise equipment so early in the morning? Would not pillows and blankets sell better?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Jules said powering up the camera’s strobe, “I don’t bother with TV.”

Rei looked thunderstruck. “But, Druid, it is most entertaining! You should sample the comedies in which families sit on couches. Oh, and the fat people shows!” She smiled. “The fat people shows are most excellent.”

Jules adjusted her spectacles. “Bathory, if I thought every channel was the Food Network, I’d probably agree with ya.”

“There are gardening shows on the PBS. You can observe tomatoes and other growing things too.”

Before Jules could unload hell’s fury on Rei, the front door clicked open. In a daze, Dante stumbled into the room. Lipstick stained both his cheeks. Tiny nibbles festooned his earlobes. A tie was dangling from his jacket like spilled entrails.

Rei started laughing uncontrollably, while Jules firing off her first volley of photos.

“Lieutenant,” Rei said between gasps for air, “were you attacked by a set of gums?”

“I—”
 

Jules hit him with another flashbulb.

Dante gave her a bleary-eyed look. His head went sideways, and both his cheeks bulged.
 

“Toilet!” Jules ordered.

Dante went sprinting into our room. The sound of retching soon followed.

I waited a few minute before checking on him. The scene was grim. Our hero looked doomed.

“We leave in an hour,” I whispered.

Dante let out a groan before making another offering to his porcelain goddess.

Shutting the door behind him, I traded my loaner suit for a black t-shirt and some blue jeans. I decided to postpone washing up. (The shenanigans going on in that bathroom couldn’t be unseen.) When I returned to the living room, Jules and Rei were back to arguing.

“But why must you insist on labeling her a predator?” Rei asked with an artful wave of her toothbrush. “It is a symbiotic relationship, Druid. The boy gains experience. The woman, an enjoyable evening.”

“It still be gross and amoral,” Jules said with a stomp of her red Converse sneakers.
 

“But it ‘still be’ consensual, Druid.”

“Consent doesn’t count when the wee head is doin’ the signin’.”

“It is harmless,” Rei said with a sigh.

Jules crossed her arms and scowled. Her PJs somewhat diminished the effect. “Preyin’ on a boy that doesn’t know better? Oh, I see plenty of harm in that, Rei Acerba.” Her eyes narrowed. “Plenty.”

A knock at the door interrupted their debate.
 

I opened it to find Agent Stetson. He had on a fresh set of bandages.

“Hello, Mr. Resnick, is Madam Fremont in?”

A towel still around her head, Madam Fremont poked her head out of her room. “That she is—and quite awake thanks to all the ruckus. Your report, Stetson?”

“Preparations are complete, ma’am. We’re set up by the river.”

Nodding, the old woman hobbled across the room and deposited herself at the table. “Students, your mission takes priority over the defense of Salt Lake. Your party is to travel with Agent Tools as he wished. To avoid the risks I outlined during dinner, your party will take Interstate 70 into the mountains where you will pass through the city of Denver. Your two paths will diverge in a town called Green River. The stretch between Salinas and Green River is the longest in the entire interstate system without a gas station. It is an isolated place, rife for a few young sots looking to make mischief. That’s where you’ll make your move.”

Jules was busying simultaneously tugging on a sweater and lacing up her high-tops. “But how are we supposta shake Jasper and Francesca?”

Madam Fremont tented her fingers. “The two are quite keen. They would sniff out a well-formed plot in an instant…but they are also creatures of duty. Know only that a sudden bout of car trouble near the town’s eastern border would do much to further your cause.”

Rei whispered into my ear, “Dieter, why should we trust her?”
 

I nearly jumped out of my skin. She’d snuck up on me again.

“She seems nice.”

“Nice?” Rei bristled. “She attempted to murder me.”

In the other room, Dante started puking again.

Madam Fremont looked up at Jules. “Would you give the poor boy an antiemetic already? I do believe he’s learned his lesson.”

“But dontcha think the lesson aught ta be an extra-sticky one?”

Fremont answered with a scowl.
 

Defeated, Jules dug into her giant hemp purse. She took out a bag of herbs and mixed them with the boiling water Ayaan had prepared for tea. The concoction smelled like peanut butter mixed with sawdust. As Jules went off to repair Dante, Agent Stetson took tea and toast with Fremont and Ayaan. Figuring we were going to be leaving soon, I went about picking up Dante’s things. Rei withdrew to the nearest dark corner.

That didn’t sit well with Madam Fremont.

“Do sit, shadow dancer. I’m not the one that bites.”

“I am fine,” Rei replied. (It sounded more like “I would prefer to disembowel you” to my ears.)

Ayaan poured out a cup of tea in front of the empty chair.

“Would you refuse my hospitality?”

Rei’s jaw tensed. “Of course not, reaper filth.” She gave a stiff bow and sat.

“How fares your father?” Madam Fremont asked.

“I would not know.” Rei gave the tea a sniff before taking a cautious sip. “Does the councilor know him?”

“Oh yes…such an interesting relic.” Madam Fremont turned her eyes to the frosted window. The morning light had begun to melt the frost. “I’ve failed to kill him several times.”

Rei sloshed her tea.

Madam Fremont tutted. “Do mind the linens, shadow dancer. Fine cotton is far harder to replace than kings.”

Before Rei could stab the old lady with her pastry fork, another knock came at the door.
 

I opened it to find Jasper Tools. Various scrapes and burns marked the heavy wool trench coat. A sawed-off Remington rested against his left hip. A large combat knife graced his right thigh. The short man’s dark hair looked slept on, and his expression was as sour as a lemon.

“Let’s go,” he said without a preamble.

“Right now?” I hinted to my bare toes.

“Of course, right now.” Agent Tools looked down at my jeans and scowled. “Where’s your robe?”

“In my bag. We were going for the undercover look…you know, Talmax agents trying to kill us and all.”

“Go for the official look.”

Rei set down her cup of tea with a not-so-subtle clack.
 

“Dieter, who is this fool, and why would he paint targets on our backs?”

“Excuse me?” Agent Tools didn’t seem to notice the not-so-subtle Hungaro-Chicagoanian accent. He was too busy giving Rei’s body a once over. “I don’t recall requisitioning a cheerleader.”

“And I recall no such cheering.”

Jasper took a step inside the foyer. All pretense of humor had vanished.

“Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“Basing on your most thorough appraisal, I doubt you would have difficulty in the recollection.” Rei granted Jasper a serene smile. “My name is Drusilla. I am a witch of humble background.”

“Councilwoman, may I inquire into the young lady’s whereabouts last evening?”

“The poor dear suffers from anemia. She collapsed from overexertion in this very room.”

Jasper crossed his arms. “Are you certain you can make this journey, young lady?”

Rei set down her teacup and stood. “I am not a young anything—I am nearly two decades old—and I would worry more for our lieutenant. He was the one cougared last night.”

Stetson nearly chocked on his crumpet.

Jasper’s jaw dropped. “Fink again?”

“What can I say” Agent Stetson replied. “The woman’s a menace.”

“Wait…she’s done this before?” I asked.

“Aye, lad,” Stetson replied. “Some call her the Florist.” He chuckled. “If you asked me, the woman missed her calling. She should have been born a vampire.”

I cringed for the ensuing violence, but Rei merely raised a thoughtful finger.
 

“That is a most regrettable association. Bloodletting does not require sexual dealings of any sort. True, a mingling of the two urges offers a more satisfactory experience, but that does not mean a Nostophoros cannot both feed broadly and save herself for that perfect…” Rei looked left and right. Her finger drooped. “Or so I am told.”

Agent Tools smirked. “A girl with that much left-wing nonsense in her head couldn’t be anything other than an Elliot student. I’ll have your vehicle brought around front. Be in the main lobby in fifteen.”

With a flourish of coat, Agent Tools headed down the hall.

I shut the door behind him.

Dante poked his head out of the bedroom. “Did I miss anything?”

“Aye, savin’ it for the right girl.” Jules tossed him his robe. “Get yerself ready. We’re headin’ out soon.”

Rei stood and gave Madam Fremont a quick bow. “Madam, thank you for your hospitality and may your impending death be both long and protracted.” Not waiting for a response, Rei opened the double doors to the balcony and hopped on top of the icy railing. She slid on her sunglasses with flash and panache.
 

“Dieter, fetch my bag,” she commanded before leaping straight off the building.

Jules cupped an ear.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Hoping for a kersplat,” she replied.

Dante ran back into the bathroom.

I smirked. “There’s your kersplat.”

After Dante finished his second round at the toilet, Madam Fremont showed us to the door. She looked a little weary with our antics, but was gracious with her well wishes. Thanking Fremont for hosting us, we headed down the stairs with our luggage. The Alumni Club was deserted. Only a bored bellhop was there to greet us. He looked pissed that we didn’t call him to carry our bags. (There went his one and only tip for the morning.) I grabbed a few of the free red apples sitting on the bar top. They’d serve us well if we had to skip lunch.

“Dieter!” Jules scolded.

“What?” I shoved them in my bag. “They’re complimentary.”

Jules tapped her foot. “There be degrees of complimentary, Dieter.”

I tossed her an apple (which she bumbled). “You have a set of rules for check-out fruit?”

“The rules be clear. We’re post-checkout. Ya can’t be munchin on them post checkout.”

“Dante, you want an apple?” I asked.

Dante looked as green as the Granny Smith apple in my hand. He shook his head and hurried through the mirror. I nearly tripped over a family of four while making my exit. The amount of refugees must have doubled. Folks were sleeping on every available flat space, and some of the newcomers looked wounded. Rei was standing with her back to the front desk. She was holding a carrier loaded with four coffees—and was engaged in a staring contest with an eight-year old.

“Why won’t you admit it?” the little girl asked.

“Because your accusations are false.”

“Are not!” The little girl replied. She crossed her arms and glowered. “I can tell. You’ve slept in a coffin.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Rei flushed.
 

“I have slept not in a glass coffin. And I know no dwarves…and such poisons would have no effect on me.”

The little girl squatted down to inspect Rei’s naked toes.
 

“Arentcha supposta only lose one glass slipper? Hows he gonna find you?”

Rei flicked her hair. “Impudent child, that is not even the same story.”
 

“She forgot them when she jumped off the balcony,” I explained.
 

I went for a cup of coffee, but Rei stiff-armed my forehead. She lifted the four delicious rolls of cardboard out of my reach.
 

“These are mine. Fetch your own.”

“That’s not nice,” the little girl chided. “Even princesses should share.”

I started to laugh.

Rei went beet red. “Do not call me that!”

“Thanks for the help, Dieter.” Jules, who had been navigating her enormous bag through the maze of sleeping limbs, arrived on the scene with a huff. “And why do ya need four cups of coffee?”

Rei pointed to the sunglasses. “Because I am driving.”

Dante shook his head. “Heck no. I’m the designated—“

“Puker,” Jules said. “And the tea I gave ya sedates. Dieter’ll drive this mornin’. I’ll take over this evenin’.”

“But Dieter doesn’t have a license,” Dante said.

“And the Druid cannot see over the dash,” Rei added with some glee.

“Go stiff, Bathory.”

“Swallow a splinter, Druid.”

The little girl hopped up and down. “Can I go to Las Vegas too?”

The four of us went dead silent.

“How did you…” I started.

“Easy.” She gestured at Rei. “Her mind is really loud.”

Before I could figure that one out, a harried-looking woman hustled over to the little girl’s side.
 

“I’m sorry, Janice loves to babble. Come on now, dear. It’s time to go to Aunt Paola’s.”

Taking her hand, she led the little girl out to the car.

“Mama,” the little girl asked as her mother led her away, “what is a misbegotten hair?”

A group of four women in trench coats came through the door as the mother and daughter left. They were carrying a man on a stretcher. His skin was an unhealthy grey. DOMA medics. You could recognize them by the bulky satchels full of herbs. The lead woman wore a bloody bandage over her eye. The rest were covered in dust and grime.

“Dang,” Dante whispered. “If the rear guard looks that bad, can you imagine how bad the front is?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer. The woman with the bandaged eye caught her foot on the rug and tumbled forward. A small glass vial slipped from a coat pocket and exploded on the ground with a huge puff. As the green cloud cleared, ten identical copies of the medic dashed screaming this way and that. It was a classic distraction potion dispensed to all our fighting forces. The whole illusion was harmless, but in a lobby full of traumatized refugees, it was like lighting a match in a coalmine. Someone screamed bloody murder. Half-asleep folks shot to their feet. No one bothered to ask questions. Nerves were already frayed. A surge of people rushed towards the door.