gaian consortium 05 - the titan trap (24 page)

BOOK: gaian consortium 05 - the titan trap
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She was looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer her question about the biometrics, or maybe she was simply waiting to hear what his true plans were. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, but he went ahead and said it anyway.

“Look, Cassidy…I think it might be better if you went back to Chicago and retrieved the ship. You can get away from Gaia — out of the system entirely — and I’ll do what I have to in China. It would be safer that way.”

Her brows drew together, angry dark lines against her pale skin. “Just like that, huh? Now that you don’t have a use for me anymore, it’s ‘so long, Cass, it’s been great’? What if I don’t want go back to Chicago with my tail between my legs?”

Damn it, he hadn’t been expecting that reaction. “Cassidy, that’s not what I meant — ”

“Isn’t it? If I can’t fly you someplace or act as bait for a company hit man, then I’m superfluous, right? Just extra baggage?”

Approximately five or six careful, reasoned replies rose to his lips…and then he realized she was too angry to listen to any of them. So he did the only thing he thought might work. He set down his suitcase, plucked hers from her hand, and then pulled her against him, kissing her thoroughly right there in the maglev station. For just the briefest instant, he felt her resist, body rigid against his, but then she relaxed, her arms going around him and her mouth opening to his.

It was amazing what this woman could do to him, send such a rush of heat through his body that he could feel himself stiffening, pushing uncomfortably against the pants he wore, which were just slightly tighter than he would have preferred. Someone in the terminal let out a wolf-whistle, and he had no doubt that the shouts of “get a room!” were soon to follow, and so he released her gently, keeping his gaze intent on her face the whole time.

“I don’t want to get rid of you,” he said. “But I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.”

Her breasts were rising and falling as she struggled for air, and he could see the flush that infused her fair skin. “I appreciate that. But I’m a big girl, Derek. I can handle myself.”

She’d already provided ample evidence of that, but he still found himself wavering. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. On the other hand, he couldn’t forcibly put her on a maglev bound for Chicago. Even if he somehow managed to do that, she was just stubborn enough that she’d probably get off at the first stop and come right back after him.

“All right,” he said at length. “But I have no idea what we’re getting into. Hell, I’m not even sure how we’re getting into China. So we’ll take this one step at a time.”

“Barstow first.”

“Barstow first,” he agreed. “And after that…we’ll see.”

“That works for me,” she said, and bent to pick up her suitcase with one hand while looping her free arm through his.

Still worried I’ll bolt?
he thought, a smile pulling at his lips.
No worries there, Cassidy. From now on, I don’t plan to let you out of my sight.

The maglev had lost all novelty for Cassidy at this point, but she was just glad it was pointing westward and not back toward Chicago. Really, what the hell had Derek been thinking?

That he wants you to continue breathing,
she thought. She couldn’t really argue with that particular sentiment, as she would prefer to keep on breathing as well, but she’d also come too far to walk away at this point. Whatever happened, she’d stick by him.

Why she felt such loyalty to someone she’d only met a few days ago, she didn’t quite know. Or maybe some part of her mind and heart had already guessed, but she wasn’t willing to acknowledge that truth. Not openly, not yet. At the same time, though, she knew she couldn’t bear the thought of not being around him, of never knowing whether he’d succeeded in his quest or not.

Even if it got her killed.

They didn’t speak as the train sped west, the desert landscape blurring past the window. Maybe they had too much to say. She wished she could think of something that would comfort him after that gruesome scene with his father, but she had the feeling Derek wanted to pretend it had never happened. It must be awful to have a parent who disapproved of you so heartily, and she still couldn’t quite figure out what Mr. Tagawa’s problem was. After all, even if he hadn’t stayed in Tucson and taught at the university, Derek was still a successful man, a scientist assigned to a very important project.

Well, except for the part where a key component of that project had turned out to be a complete lie.

Her stomach rumbled, telling her that it didn’t much appreciate running around day and night, and not getting anything to fill it up. Derek must have heard as well, because he smiled slightly and said, “There are vending machines in the forward car, if you need something to eat.”

“It’s fine,” she replied. “I’d rather wait until we get to Barstow and can have some real food.” His expression didn’t change, so she added, somewhat worried, “That is, assuming we can get real food in Barstow.”

He chuckled. “Oh, we can get real food there. I know a place where we can get some chilaquiles that’ll make you weep.”

“Chila-what?” she replied, trying to get her mouth to pronounce the unfamiliar syllables. Anyway, did she really want food that would make her cry?

“It’s a dish we eat here in the Southwest. It’s good.”

Since he didn’t seem inclined to elaborate — maybe he wanted her to be surprised by these chilaquiles, whatever they were — she asked instead, “So you’ve been to Barstow before?”

“Several times over the years, for conferences at the university, that sort of thing.” He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space. This train car didn’t feel quite as luxurious as the one they’d taken from Chicago. Maybe, since this was a shorter route, the designers had thought they could get away with skimping. “I made friends with some of the professors, and they took me around to their favorite places to eat around town. It’s the best way to get to a know a city — sample its restaurants.”

“Mmm,” Cassidy replied, feeling once again as if she were on an alien world, rather than one from which she was only a single generation removed. Not that Luna City didn’t have its eating establishments, but the food at most of them was fairly bland, only a few steps up from the ready-made rations she took along to eat when she was traveling the route between the Moon and Titan. There were a couple of restaurants that specialized in hydroponically grown produce, along with meats brought in specially from Gaia, but those places were way above her pay grade. The lobster patties she’d shared with Conrad Waite were probably one of the best things she’d ever tasted, despite the company she’d shared them with.

So the thought that a city could have such variety in its restaurants that they contributed to its personality was an alien one to her…but she didn’t mind giving it all a try. If nothing else, it sounded like a good way to re-energize before they left Normerica for China…which, she thought she’d read somewhere, once had quite a regional cuisine of its own. Maybe its refugees had preserved something of it, but she’d never had any dishes that claimed to be Chinese.

The landscape outside the window steadily grew greener, and she found her gaze pulled to those unexpectedly verdant hillsides. For some reason, she’d thought all this area would be as dry and dusty as Tucson.

“Not what you were expecting?” Derek asked, apparently noticing her distraction.

“No,” she replied, still staring out the window. “I thought this was supposed to be a desert.”

“It was, about three hundred years ago. But the rising oceans cooled the air, and the monsoon rainstorms became more widespread, and so it eventually greened up. It’s still nothing like the really green places — the upper Midwest, the United Kingdom — but it’s very different from what it used to be.”

“It’s beautiful.” She didn’t have a name for the scrubby green shrubs that looked halfway between honest-to-goodness trees and mere bushes, nor the bright yellow flowers that danced on the breeze, but somehow that didn’t matter. For the first time she understood what her father had been talking about when he told her it was dangerous to go to Gaia, that you’d see things there that would make the world of living shipboard and domed cities feel cramped and small, colorless and sterile.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, although she felt his gaze on her rather than the scene outside the window.

Color rose to her cheeks, and she made herself keep staring outside rather than look at him. It would be nice to have Derek’s warm olive skin, which never showed much of a flush. Oh, well.

“How much longer until we get to Barstow?” she asked then. She knew it was probably a transparent attempt at redirecting the conversation but couldn’t come up with anything better to deflect his attention.

“Less than an hour. Luckily, I know the town a little, so I can get us to a hotel without too much trouble. I just have to make sure it’s not one I’ve stayed in before. The last thing we need is anyone recognizing me.”

That was for sure. She knew how lucky they’d been so far, but there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. “Do you think that’ll be a problem? Running into someone who knows you, I mean.”

He grinned. She loved the way his dark eyes lit up when he smiled, the small cleft that appeared in his chin. “In a town of a little more than two million people? I doubt it.”

Two million. The number made it sound vast, although she knew Chicago was much, much larger than that. But she’d only seen one small section of that megalopolis, and so hadn’t gotten much sense of its true scale.

She nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. Derek seemed to be staring off nowhere in particular, and his smile had disappeared. Something about his mouth seemed somber and quiet, and she wondered if he was thinking about his father, or simply attempting to figure out their next move. Either way, he didn’t look too happy.

Without thinking, she reached over and laid her hand on top of his, not squeezing it, not doing anything except letting him feel the warmth of her skin against his. That did seem to help, as his expression relaxed slightly, and the corners of his mouth turned up just a little.

That was better. One way or another, she’d prove to him she was a valuable asset to have along on his quest.

Although it had been almost five years since his last trip to Barstow, Derek didn’t think it had changed all that much. A little bigger, a little noisier, with the frenetic, disorganized energy of a place that had grown far larger than it ever should be and still hadn’t quite figured out what to do about it.

The travel advisor on his handheld gave him a list of possible places to stay, and he chose one not too far from the stratport, a hotel he’d never heard of but which had a good rating. Not that that necessarily meant much; it was common knowledge that those ratings tended to be based more on how much graft passed hands to inflate the recommendations rather than on an establishment’s actual merit.

But when they got out of the cab and went into the hotel lobby, he was reassured by what he saw — gleaming travertine floors, walls painted a glossy slate blue, front desk of rough-polished aluminum. High end, but not over the top. The desk was manned by real people, and within fifteen minutes he and Cassidy had a room and were headed up in the elevator.

Since it was otherwise unoccupied, he felt it safe to say, “Sorry there weren’t any suites available.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Well, that place in Chicago was impressive, I’ll admit…but did you really think we needed to have separate bedrooms?”

Damn. He still wasn’t used to her forthrightness. Most of the women he’d known would never have come out and said such a thing so baldly. “I didn’t want to presume — ”

A laugh as she shook her head and gave him a mock-annoyed look. “You’re not presuming. But maybe I am?”

“No,” he said at once, wanting to shoot that idea down before it even had a chance to get started. “I — that is, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of that night on board the ship.”

“Good,” she said with a wicked grin. Then she put her hand on her stomach. “Although I think you’ll need to feed me first.”

“That I can do.”

They got out of the elevator and went to their room, which was located about halfway down the corridor. It looked back over the city, showing the sprawl of downtown, the shimmering high-rises, the mountains on almost every side, closer to the north and east, much farther away to the south and west, those ranges hiding the view of drowned Los Angeles. Otherwise, it was much like pretty much every other hotel room he’s stayed in when in Normerica — large bed; small table with two chairs; a convenience station with a coffeemaker, infrared heating unit, compact refrigerator; a shower nicely outfitted with faux-stone tile and a separate dressing area.

Just as he was stowing his suitcase in the closet, the door chimed. Cassidy shot him a puzzled look, and he lifted his shoulders before going to answer it. Waiting outside was a small room service mech.

“For you,” it said, a tray extending from its side. On the tray rested a thin plastic envelope.

Mystified, he said, “Thanks,” and removed the envelope before shutting the door again. The envelope had a small bio-sensitive square holding it closed, and he placed his thumb on it. Immediately the envelope opened, and several pieces of plastic and actual paper slid out.

“What is it?” Cassidy asked.

“Looks like our fake credentials. Probably our sponsor was waiting to see which hotel we checked into so he would know where to send everything.”

“Impressive,” she remarked, casting a quick glance over the contents of the envelope.

It was an audacious plan, actually, but one that made sense. Faking government credentials was nearly impossible, but pretending to be staff from the biggest vid-news network gave him and Cassidy a reason for traveling to China without putting them under too much scrutiny. And lord knows scrutiny was the one thing they needed to avoid at all costs.

He supposed he should be glad that their benefactor was covering all possible angles, but there was still something a little disconcerting about all that smooth, behind-the-scenes efficiency. But he supposed he should let that go for now. First things first.

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