"Because I knew Sir Nigel would want to handle it himself. He told me as much."
I set down my fork. Actually, I threw it at my plate.
"I"m sick to death of being jerked around," I said. "And you seem to be doing a lot of the jerking, sister. sister."
"I"m sorry, Hays, I truly am. But that"s just the way things have gone so far. This is a crisis situation, no? It"s not me me who wants to deceive you." who wants to deceive you."
"Got any more little secrets to share? I"d like to know all of them now."
"Secrets?" she said scornfully. "If you want to talk about trust, we have a lot more reason not to trust you than the other way around. You were an Elite b.a.s.t.a.r.d until very recently. You were, you she said scornfully. "If you want to talk about trust, we have a lot more reason not to trust you than the other way around. You were an Elite b.a.s.t.a.r.d until very recently. You were, you are, are, married to Lizbeth." married to Lizbeth."
Lucy stood up abruptly and stalked out of the room.
Well, that hadn"t gotten me very far, had it? In fact, it had been a disaster. I wanted to make a bond with Lucy, but I kept messing up. We both did.
By now I"d had some time to think about Lizbeth. Part of me kept insisting that what I"d heard so far was impossible. To start with, she was two years younger than me-born after after 7-4 Day. 7-4 Day.
Or had she been?
I"d met her twelve years ago in New Chicago, soon after I started working at the Agency of Change. About her past before that, I only knew what she"d told me. Of course, I"d seen the marriage doc.u.ments listing her birth date. But doc.u.ments could easily be altered... If Nigel"s story was correct, she"d have to be at least twice my age. But Elites stayed youthful far longer than humans, and with the science work she did, she had access to the latest anti-aging technology.
I"d taken it for granted that Lizbeth loved me, but now I remembered her cold side. Everything in her life was chosen for maximum function and efficiency. And she had turned her back on me the instant my troubles started!
Was the woman I"d given my heart to really a cold-blooded, scheming monster? Had she devoted her earlier life to helping the Elites annihilate much of the human race?
Then what?
She had coolly decided she was ready to start a family, saw a promising young agent, and lied to him about everything you could lie to someone about. Even our marriage vows-had they been calculated lies too?
Others would have to have been in on it-but there were were others, like Jax Moore. others, like Jax Moore.
My brain and gut were giving me the terrible news about my marriage: it had all been a rotten, stinking lie. My entire life was one big lie. My entire life was one big lie.
Chapter 68 68.
SPEAKING OF DELUDING oneself-there were always amazing toys to play with, even in an MI7 safe house. I couldn"t resist. No one can...
With eight seconds left in the World Cup soccer game, the score stood tied, one to one. The earth trembled under my running feet from the stamping of the hundred thousand screaming fans who packed the stadium.
I booted the ball up in a high, looping pa.s.s and charged down the gra.s.sy field to receive it back, racing fiercely against the other team-the past year"s World Cup champion from Italy.
Twisting and feinting, I cut sharply in and out of the sprinting figures.
Then someone slammed into my legs and knocked me rolling-one of the Italian players had blindsided me.
The crowd"s roar rose to a fury and the ground shook like an earthquake-but the referee was acting like nothing had happened!
I came up off the ground in a footfirst lunge.
I saw the ball.
It had reached the top of its arc and hung there for an instant like the sun, then it quickly gained speed as it plunged downward.
I launched myself toward it-with every st.i.tch of its black and white hexagons, every scuff and sc.r.a.pe on its surface, crystal clear in my vision.
The goalie leaped into position, his body tensed, arms spread wide.
I feinted at the ball with my head, but at the last second, I ducked, flipped, and smashed it with my foot toward the far side of the net.
The goalie spun to follow and made a desperate leap, but his fingertips only grazed it as the ball shot into the far upper corner.
Boom! The sound of the final gun. The sound of the final gun.
The crowd turned into an insane human wave, tearing seats out of the stands, swinging them as they stormed the field.
Abruptly, the yelling voices and vivid colors disappeared, leaving a blank screen flashing the words "GAME OVER."
I tugged off my headset and sank back on the couch, panting, soaked with sweat.
This was one mother of a simulator! Everything had seemed so real.
Anyone who hid out here at the safe house had time on his hands. So MI7 made sure there was entertainment-Toyz Corporation"s latest products. I"d been immersing myself in them, waiting for orders to come from Sir Nigel. Trying to keep my mind off Lizbeth and our kids.
Suddenly, a hand came to rest on my shoulder.
Slender.
Female.
Impossibly soft.
Tony red nails, long ones.
"Hi, Hays," said the house android, Anna. "I came to see if I could get you anything. Anything at all."
"I"m fine, thanks," I said, glancing at her distractedly. "Honestly, I am."
Then my head swung back for another look.
"Anna?"
I"d realized that Anna was no ordinary servant model. She was definitely high-end-not only intelligent, but also with the capacity to morph into other shapes.
Now she was wearing a slinky black dress with slingback high heels. Her eyes had turned liquid blue... and she"d developed a shock of blond hair. And I mean that-a shock shock of blond hair. of blond hair.
She could have been Lucy"s twin.
"You like?" she asked.
Chapter 69 69.
"BESIDES, AREN"T YOU getting bored with those silly-billy simulated simulated games?" Anna continued, plopping down beside me on the couch. She smelled terrific too, with the same citrus fragrance Lucy wore sometimes. Like in the cargo unit from Russia. games?" Anna continued, plopping down beside me on the couch. She smelled terrific too, with the same citrus fragrance Lucy wore sometimes. Like in the cargo unit from Russia.
She"d even adopted an excellent imitation of Lucy"s voice. Now she kicked off her high heels and tucked her small feet under her shapely rear.
"Anna, you might want to consider a different role model," I suggested.
"If you say so, Hays. But I"m programmed to be very observant. I pride myself on it."
"What"s that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on. There"s so much tension between you two. You could cut it with... a b.u.t.ter knife. Compet.i.tive. s.e.xual. Gender-bending. Anyone could see it. But enough about you and Lucy."
I bristled. Just what I needed-an android playing shrink. And being right.
"There is some tension, I guess," I said. "And plenty of good reasons for it."
"The main one is that you"re very attracted to her. Admit it-at least to me. You"re hot hot for Lucy." for Lucy."
"That"s nonsense, Anna."
"I don"t mean to argue with you," she said soothingly. "But how could it hurt to give us us a whirl?" Anna changed positions and crossed her legs, the black dress hiking up to reveal a long expanse of absolutely perfect thigh. "This is my purpose in life, Hays. To give pleasure." She smiled. "Make an honest woman out of me." a whirl?" Anna changed positions and crossed her legs, the black dress hiking up to reveal a long expanse of absolutely perfect thigh. "This is my purpose in life, Hays. To give pleasure." She smiled. "Make an honest woman out of me."
I couldn"t help smiling at that one. "Very cute."
"Yes, I am."
Anna glided gently up onto my lap. Her voice took on a silken tone. "I promise you, I"m a lot more fascinating than those simulator toys. I change with your mood, your every wish, your desires. I"ve been told that I"m the best in Europe."
I didn"t have a problem believing that. Not at all. Anna"s warm body pressing on mine was starting to weaken my defenses.
Almost against my will, my hands began exploring Anna"s new shape, and, along with her breathless gasps of pleasure, they confirmed my guess about her anatomical perfection. Anna was all woman, all over, all the time, all mine-if I wished.
She deftly unbuckled my belt, cupped my vitals, and slid my pants down. Hoo boy! Hoo boy!
"I see I finally have your interest-up," she said. "My, my, Hays. You just might be the best in Europe yourself."
But sonofab.i.t.c.h if the front door didn"t open just at that second-and in walked, of all people, Lucy. Lucy.
She folded her arms, eyebrows rising, and leaned back against the wall.
"Well, well, now I know what I"d look like if I were a street wh.o.r.e," she said.
"It would be an improvement over your current pig-farmer style," Anna shot back.
Lucy seemed amused rather than angry. "Not bad, robos.l.u.t. But playtime"s over. Sir Nigel wants to see your boyfriend. Hays, pull up your trousers! Hays, pull up your trousers!"
Chapter 70 70.
A FEW MINUTES later, thoroughly chastened, I was in a speeding car with Lucy at the wheel. London continued to be a revelation to me, especially the tasteful blending of old and new architectural styles. This was such a refreshing change from monolithic New Lake City with its streamlined, very modern everything. everything.
There was one disturbing similarity with the Elite world that I had known though: toys were all over the place. Both for children and adults.
"Plenty of those creepy little dolls around here. I guess a fad is a fad," I muttered as Lucy drove us through the outskirts of London. Little Jessicas and Jacobs seemed to be everywhere. One of their tricks was to wave at cars and their pa.s.sengers. I didn"t wave back.
"Look who"s down on toys all of a sudden," Lucy said, giving me a sidelong glance and a chuckle. "You were having a pretty good time with one just a few minutes ago."
"Let"s just look at the scenery, please... Now who, or what, are they? they?"
A gang of street punks, dressed all in black and carrying long iron crowbars, were hanging out on the corner ahead. When they spotted our official-looking car, they thrust their crowbars into the air, then tapped them menacingly against their palms. Very, very West Side Story West Side Story.
"Smashers," Lucy said. "They"re like Betas, except they specialize in destroying anything civilized: monuments, art, books, schools, museums, churches-of course-even cemeteries. The Elites pay them to do it, supply them with addictive drugs like wyre. That"s another fad sweeping the world."
I nodded grimly. What she was saying would fit with the overall Elite plan-to degrade and demoralize humans in any way possible.
It was clear that they were succeeding too. While downtown London was well policed, parts of these outskirts looked shockingly like the human slums in New Lake City. We were the only moving vehicle in sight. The neighborhood people watched us with dull, wary faces.
The difference was that, back home, the ugliness stemmed from neglect and poverty. Here, as Lucy said, things of beauty were specifically targeted. The stained-gla.s.s windows of graceful old churches were bashed to splinters, stone walls were ruined by painted scrawls, park greens were ripped up by car tires, statues lay toppled, fountains and ponds were open sewers for waste and poisons.
The Smashers were always busy, earning their pay, having their fun.
The punks on the corner were starting to yell at us now, a monotone, three-syllable chant. "Sticks and stones! Break your bones! Sticks and stones! Break your bones! Sticks and stones!" "Sticks and stones! Break your bones! Sticks and stones! Break your bones! Sticks and stones!" Let me guess- Let me guess-"Break your bones"?
"They like to work people over with those crowbars-then hang them on hooks to die," Lucy said. "Their idea of a good time."
Suddenly, a bottle came flying toward the car provided to us.
My impulse was to jump out and feed it back to the sc.u.m who"d thrown it. I was armed now-the MI7 had given me a couple of compact pistols. But I reminded myself that Sir Nigel was waiting and we had to keep moving.
In the next instant, a second bottle exploded into a fireball, rocking the car from its wheelbase. A sheet of flame shot up beside my face. I could feel the heat through the closed window.