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Authors: Jill Sardegna

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BOOK: Deadrock
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"Of
course, I felt guilty. But then I had this dream," said Leo.

"Oh, yes.
Max has told us about your dreams. Fascinating," said Grandma.

"Yeah, I
like the one about the dancing rutabaga," said Mr. Louis.

"I think Max
was teasing you, Mr. Louis. Your interest in vegetables and all," said
Grandma.

Max chuckled.

"That Maxie!
What a sense of humor," said Mr. Louis.

"No, this
dream was about Max. He was in danger, Mrs. Livingstone!

There was a
clock ticking and a gunshot. I try to analyze my dreams and-"

"That's a
good idea, Leo.
A
analyst could do you a world of
good. Helped me," said Mr. Louis.

"Louis, dear,
go dig over there," said Grandma. She took a sharp weeder and powerfully
flung it. It landed just inches from a planting bed twenty yards away.

"Nice throw,
Mrs. Livingstone! Your aim just gets better and better," said Mr. Louis,
heading for the bed.

"Little
trick I learned from Wendy the Weeder," said Grandma. "Murdered people
who showed little regard for her flowers. You do like gardening, don't you,
Leo?" she asked.

Leo quickly
burrowed his hands into the soil. "Yes! Yes, yes! Love it!"

"I'm
glad, dear, now about this dream…"

"It was
the worst dream I ever had. I heard the gunshot and then I saw Max fall! That's
when I changed my mind and came to see you," he said.

"You're a
good friend, Leo. But I think your dream has more to do with your guilt than
with Max's safety," she said.

"Please!
I really think Max is in danger!"

Grandma
stopped her planting. She looked into Leo's face and saw his fear. The lines in
her forehead deepened.

Keep it up,
Leo, thought Max. This scary dream stuff might convince her, after all.

"Yes, I
see, Leo," she said solemnly. "I promise to consider what you've
said. Now run along, dear. I'm sure you have better things to do than entertain
old ladies. Now turn Max back on so I can say goodbye."

Leo did as he
was told, and Max returned to the sound of
song birds
in the garden.

"So, Grandma,
what did you two decide?" Max asked.

"You read
our lips, Max, so I'm sure you know," she smiled coyly.

I give up,
thought Max. She's always a step ahead of me. Two steps, even. "Okay,
Grandma, I'll see you when the Watcher is over."

Leo took the Linker
and made his goodbyes, walking off slowly past the brook and the low
stone wall
. "Sorry, Max. I tried," Leo said. He
clipped the Linker to his shirt and Max saw the moss-lined path unfold in front
of him.

"It's
okay, Leo, Max said. "Grandma can be pretty hard-headed sometimes."

Leo turned
back to wave and Max saw Mr. Louis return to Grandma's side.

"Oh, Leo!
I forgot!" she called out. She picked up something from the ground and
hurled it at him. "Here, Leo, catch!"

Leo screamed
and rolled into a ball to avoid being hit by the imagined weeder. Max's view
rolled and reeled with him, coming to rest next to the small mesh bag of
Daf-faux-dil bulbs Grandma had thrown. Max heard Grandma's voice faintly in the
distance. "Nervous little fellow, isn't he, Mr. Louis?" she said.

Max hung up
after assuring Leo repeatedly that he would be careful and take no unnecessary
chances. After a few moments, Bird returned with an armload of towels,
whistling "Anchors Aweigh." He looked from Max's doleful expression
to the Linker lying in is lap.

"So, bad
news?" asked Bird.

"Yeah,
kinda."

Max spotted
the bunny mug he'd bought as a present for Nickie, resting on his bureau.

"Are you
disappointed, Max?" asked Bird.

Max stopped a
minute and noted with surprise that he wasn't.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 17
 

Planetary Earth Date: 19.7.2015

The next
morning Max roused Bird early.

"Just
fifteen more minutes, Max, and I'll be on my way." Bird rolled over and
pulled the blankets under his chin.

"Right
now, Bird! I'm going with you to make sure you stick with Ted and don't go on
any gambling sprees."

"Max, Max,
Max. We went over all that last night. I promised not to slip up and you
promised to trust me again." He gave Max one more pleading look, gave up,
and grudgingly went to the bathroom to shower.

The two
arrived outside the Rhoades' apartment building by 7:30 and watched the doorman
who stood guard.

"How do
we get around him today, Max?" Bird rubbed the last of the sleep from his
eyes.

Max was just
working out the details of an attention-diversion tactic when he spied a
custodian walking toward a side entrance marked MAINTENANCE.

"Follow
me!" said Max slinking behind a tall man in gray overalls, workman's
gloves, and a low-slung cap. He walked with a slight limp so the detectives had
to slow their pace.

"Now!"
said Max, sprinting for the door before it swing shut. Once inside the building
they soon took their familiar hiding place in the hallway outside the Rhoades'
apartment.

Bird fidgeted.
"I really should have visited the Little Boy's Room before we came. I hate
it when you rush me in the morning, Max."

"Hop on
one leg, Bird, he's bound to leave for work any minute now." Just then,
the apartment door opened and Nickie stepped into the hallway.

"Bye,
Dad. See you at lunch," said Nickie before closing the door.

"Going
without him, I guess," said Bird.

They watched
as the elevator doors opened, Nickie got on, and the doors closed. A few
moments later, the apartment door opened again and Ted walked into the hallway,
stepped toward the elevator, then, remembering, went back to the apartment to
lock the door. He hummed a tune as he returned to the elevator, pushed the
button, and the doors opened.

"Ted
Rhoades, come on down!" whispered Bird.

Without a
glance down, Ted stepped out into empty space and fell out of sight.

"Hey, I
didn't mean it literally!" cried Bird. He lunged toward the elevator but
Max grabbed him and shook his head sadly.

"This is
what we're here to witness, remember?" he reminded Bird.

Suddenly, Ted's
head popped up from the shaft. The two lurched back into cover.

"Whaaat?"
said Max.

"I guess
it only lowered a few feet," said Bird with relief.

Ted climbed
out of the shaft, fingered his torn trousers and went to the stairs in a
daze.
 
As he opened the stairwell door,
a woman's voice rang out. "Run!"

Ted startled, swooned,
then slowly turned down the hallway and followed the signs to another elevator.
Max and Bird ran to the shaft for a quick look.

"Yep,
only went down about five feet," said Bird. "A pretty poor attempt at
murder."

"Let's
see if we can find out who the bunglers are," said Max. They raced to the stairwell
and Max nearly tripped over a walkie-talkie dropped carelessly on the landing.
It crackled a moment, then a man's voice said, "SHUT UP, woman! I can't
get the basement door open! Open the hatch!" There was a CLANG! WOOMPH!
and
the sound of a heavy door slamming.

Max and Bird
stared at each other for a split second,
then
ran down
the stairs to the basement. But when they got there all they found were a few
drops of blood, another walkie-talkie lying on the floor, and a pair of faded
Acme Elevator coveralls. The name embroidered over the pocket was "Clooney."

"C'mon,"
said Max, "let's try to catch up with Ted." They found him downstairs
talking to the doorman. Ted swayed a bit, and the doorman took his arm. Ted
leaned on the doorman for a moment, then made a reassuring little wave and
staggered to the corner.

The detectives
trailed him to an athletic club. He showed the membership card to the attendant
at the front desk and passed by. Max and Bird stepped out from cover behind a
potted palm and attempted to stride past the attendant.

"Hold it,"
said the muscle-strangled man. Max noticed that his arms were too bulky to lie
flat at his sides so he carried them slightly away from his body, as though always
poised for action.

"You guys
members?" he asked, skeptically eyeing them up and down.

"Actually
no," said Bird. "But the lad here and I thought we'd like to start
pumping iron. Get beefed out."

"That's
BUFFED out!" whispered Max.

"Exactly!
We want to get that no-neck look you're sporting. Veeery attractive. Could you
give us two guest passes so we can look around?"

The muscle man
looked uncertain as to whether he should feel insulted or complimented, and a
storm of emotions passed over his face before he gave up and handed them the
passes.

"Thank
you so much, we'll be back to buff up in a jiffy," said Bird. The two
hurried into the men's locker room. Wrapped in a towel, Ted turned the dial outside
the sauna, stepped inside and closed the door.

"He's
staying in there for an hour? He'll melt!" said Max.

"Oh, no!"
said Bird. "In my tribe we sit in the sweat lodge for hours at a time.
Clears the mind, improves the consciousness. We can set up something like it in
the bathtub if you want. We'll build a fire and-"

"But its
8:30 already," fretted Max, closing his eyes and consulting the inner
clock projected inside his right eyelid.

"And
Nickie will be waiting for you," teased Bird. "If only you could
trust ol' Bird to handle this alone, you could fly to her side!"

"Shut up,
Bird." Max considered the alternatives a moment. "Alright, you stay
and trail him back to the office. And no funny business!"

"No
problem, Max. I'll stay and pump up. You won't even recognize me when I get
back. I'll look just like Arnold Schwarzenfeffer!"

"That's
Arnold Schwartzkopt, Bird." Gnartz, doesn't this guy know anything?

On his way to
the office, Max wondered if he made a mistake leaving Bird unattended. He'd
have to find a way to put an electronic tail on him after all. He could explain
the circumstances to the Chief if he got caught.
And if he
didn't get caught, so much the better.

"Max!
What could you be thinking?" He was sure it was Grandma's voice he heard,
but he shook his head and met the hazel eyes of Nickie, who waited just outside
the building. "It's nearly 9:00. I almost left without you!"

"Sorry,
Nickie." He showed her his bare wrist. "No watch."

 

They walked
four blocks in silence. She's punishing me, thought Max. Why do women always
use the silent treatment? Because it works so well, he sighed.

"You'd
think that someone from the next century would at least have some kinda
supersonic alarm clock," she said, chiding him.

"Don't
need 'em, we have inner time," said Max. Just keep her talking, he
thought. That way she'll forget she's giving me the silent treatment.

"Inner
time? Right. Like a little clock stuck in your brain? Like an inner Google
Glass? How do you recharge it? Plug yourself into the wall each night?"

She's
interested, Max, he told himself. Just keep her going. "They're solar
powered. Makes for trouble in deep space, though. Once you get on the dark side
of Saturn it's all over."

She smiled in
spite of herself and changed the subject. "We need to go to that kitchen
store. I thought it would be good to put in some gadgets they might not be
using in - Max? Earth to Max!"

Max stood
rooted to a spot in front of the dilapidated 24-Hour movie theater
next door
and gaped at the marquee. "Nickie, look what's
playing!
We've gotta go!" It took some fast-talking,
but Nickie soon stood in the lobby and stared at the luridly painted movie
posters in the display windows. NOW IN TECHNICOLOR AND STEROPHONIC SOUND! Max
handed her a ticket.

"I feel a
little guilty. We really should be working," she said.

"Don't be
silly," said Max. "We are working. This is cultural research."
The bored usher gave them their ticket stubs. "We'll put our stubs in the
capsule."

"But a
movie at nine o'clock in the morning? It feels like cutting class to me."
They entered the silent, dark theater.

"This is
fate – we were meant to go. Besides, this isn't just any movie; it's
Shane
," said Max.

"Ah,
well, then, that makes everything alright," joked Nickie. They stopped at
the top of the sloping center aisle.

"Wow,"
she said looking down at the rows and rows of empty seats. "I hope we can
find a good seat. I hate it when I can't see."

"Tell me
about it," said Max, stretching his neck.
 

"Right,
what do you do, bring a pillow to sit on?" she teased.

"You
asked for it, Smartarm!" He pulled her to the front row and plunked her
down.

"Smart
arm
?" she laughed. "Okay,
okay, you've made your point," and she took him by the hand and sat with him
in a row in the middle of the theater.

Max couldn't
help smiling to himself. I am actually out on a date with Nickie, he thought.
Well, kind of a date. At least she's treating me like an equal now.

"I must
have seen
Shane
a million times,"
he sighed. Yes, she's definitely forgotten about our age difference. "Of
course a movie's not as good as the VR version."

"VR?"

"Virtual
Reality. In the future we have VRs instead of movies or CDs.

"Oh, yes.
Max's Fantastic Future World," she said.

Age shouldn't
matter, anyway. If I was twenty-four and she was twenty-seven, age wouldn't
even be an issue. "You see, Nickie, in VRs, you attach a cord with a
little pincher thing to your finger," he said.

"Ouch."

"No, it
doesn't hurt. It just lets you be the main character. To look through his or
her eyes, feel what he's feeling, you know?" She has such nice eyes, too.
Green with little flecks of brown.

Nickie blushed
and broke their gaze. "Uh, yeah, I get it," she said. "Sort of a
vicarious experience. Just my luck, the heroine would get shot. No, I don't
think I'd like your future, Max," she said.

Nickie placed
her arm along one half of the worn, wooden armrest between the seats. Max
ever-so-casually
laid his strong, tan arm next to her slim,
pale one. The warmth from her arm tingled and spread through his. No, age
really shouldn't matter, he thought.

As the movie
began, an old man wandered down the aisle, settled into the seat in front of
Max and began to snore. Giggling, Max and Nickie moved to the back row. Max
noticed that she put her arm back on the armrest, leaving just enough room for
his.

Anyway, he
thought, resting his arm next to hers, when we're sitting, we're practically
the same height.

 

After the
morning movie and shopping, Nickie and Max returned to the office at noon, joking
and singing "Happy Trails." They found Bird at his desk, watching a
CD on his laptop. He quickly closed the laptop. I love that YouTube,
"
he explained. "I'm glad you
got it for the capsule, Nickie. Big Red and I love that cat playing the piano."
He pointed to the spinning rodent above.

"We've
got a new one for you to watch," said Max. He inserted a CD of
Shane
and fast-forwarded to the final
scene. As the actors spoke, Max mouthed the words in unison.

"And we'll
never see you again?" asked the heroine, Marion.

"Never's
a long time, Marion. Tell him, tell him I was sorry," said Shane,
motioning to her husband.

"No need
to tell him that. Please stay, please…take care of yourself," said Marion.

Nickie sighed
and turned it off. "It was worth the trip to the vintage video store to
find this," she said.

"It's not
bad for a cowboy story," said Bird.

"You don't
like westerns?" asked Nickie.

"I don't
like cowboys," said Bird, fingering a braid.

"I think
it's sad," she said wistfully.

"Well, we've
had a pretty bad history of not getting along," said Bird.

"No, I
mean the movie's sad. She's so torn between needing to stay with her husband
and wanting to leave with Shane," Nickie said.

"No
contest! Take Shane!" said Max. "And take this CD to the vault. Then
let's us rustle up some grub, ma'am, I'm starvin'!"

"Watch
who you're ordering around, dude," said Nickie. "Besides, I'm having
lunch with my dad today."

BOOK: Deadrock
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