Passion Model (11 page)

She threw herself at me again and wrapped her arms around my neck. She hugged me so fiercely the air squeezed from my lungs, and I had to pry her off. She stepped back, her wings for once ceased in their constant fluttering. She looked more serene, and her eyes shone with a glow I recognized as happiness.

She drew away and clapped her hands. “I will make my Gemma…” Again, the shy pause. “My mother, breakfast.”

I laughed and shook my head. “All right.”

With a flutter, she left the room. I stared after her for a moment. I had a Elovenian for a daughter. I grinned. Stranger things had happened.

Again, I dressed in a flowing dress of soft artisilk and slipped flat sandals instead of heavy boots on my feet. I made a quick diagnostic check to be sure my internals were still functioning—unlike the hapless Relava, I placed a lot of importance on my personal maintenance. If something went wrong inside me, it would be far more serious than a simple faulty ignition. In the unlikely event any of my organs failed, I’d die. It seemed a fair trade for never being sick.

Today I would put the past behind me once and for all, including Steve. I’d look forward to what the future might bring. I would start by finding Declan.

I would never know if I had a chance at a future with Declan, if I didn’t try to find out. The thought of telling him the truth—that I was neither metalgirl nor fleshgirl, but something in-between, made the pit of my stomach clench. The fear made me angry and made me think. How long had I allowed it to rule me?

In my work, I was fearless. I had to be. And in my private life…well, because of fear I hadn’t allowed myself to have a private life.

“No more,” I said. Yes, I thought of the way he’d made my body sing, but more than that, I thought of how he’d opened my heart.

There was always the possibility that once he learned the truth that I was mecho, he might turn away, as Steve had. As so many of the Newcitizens were beginning to do, led by the Newcity Ruling Council. I’d never know unless I found out. And I wouldn’t find out, unless I found him.

I still didn’t want to go into work, but with my home hookup to System, I wouldn’t have to. I barely noticed the plate of soft bread, articheese and synthfruit Kaelyn slid in front of me, though when she clucked at me to eat, I did. I unhooked the viddy screen and keyboard from the wall and put them on the table for easier access. With luck, my search wouldn’t take very long, but I wanted to be comfortable.

I punched in my personal ID number and waited for System to recognize me. When the modulated feminine voice replied, “GMMA 4121609, recognized,” I said, “voice command activated.”

“Activated.”

“Search: Declan.”

The viddy screen showed a flowing, random pattern of colors for approximately two seconds before a list of matches appeared. The system was working incredibly slow.

“Match: Declan. Two million, three hundred thousand, four hundred and seven.”

“Damn.” I thumped the table. I hadn’t thought his name would be so popular.

“Command not recognized.”

“Discard: All but first of multiple references.”

Again, the soft pattern of blues and greens, then the list of names.

“Match: Declan. Seven hundred and two.”

At least I’d cut the list down considerably. I hadn’t even reached the point where I had to use my higher clearance to gain information.

“Discard: Female.”

“Match: Declan. Five hundred and seventeen.”

Now I was getting somewhere. All of the remaining references were of a male Declan, and each was a reference to a different event. Now all I had to do was figure out which one was the one I needed.

“Filter: Social refs.”

“Hold or discard other data?”

“Hold.” If I couldn’t find the correct social reference to him, I might need to check business.

I’d finished my breakfast without paying attention. Kaelyn cleared my plates, her eyes still shining with the glow of joy. She hummed softly to herself and paused to lay her head against mine before moving back to the kitchen area.

“Match: Declan. Social. Three hundred and fifty.”

“Filter: Photos.”

“Hold or discard other data?”

“Hold.” I waited. Finding a picture of him would make everything else much easier. The answer came back.

“Match: Declan. Social. Photos. Seventy-five.”

“Show first match.”

A brief splash of color, then the screen filled with the face of a very handsome man. It wasn’t my Declan. The man’s toothy grin graced an advertisement for the Ultra Sonic Tooth Cleaner.

“Identify Citizen.”

“Offworld Citizen. D’clan Horduta.”

There was a problem with voice recognition technology. It wasn’t System’s fault, but the ad didn’t help me. I ordered another match, this time spelling out the proper name.

“Match. D-E-C-L-A-N. Social. Photo. Two hundred and four.”

At least the numbers were getting smaller.

The clip showed a man accepting an award for something, and shaking hands with several people. I scanned the background for a sign of my Declan—now I was starting to sound like Kaelyn!—but saw nothing familiar. The words marching across the bottom of the screen matched described the scene.

“Volume up.”

“…Frank Phillips accepts the Newcity Good Citizen award from Newcity Council Member Howard Adar.

The dialogue continued. “…Frank’s work with Oldcity plague groups earned him the award.”

The clip faded. “Reference entry. Declan?”

“Further information unavailable.”

“Replay.”

The clip began again. I scanned the background. “Stop.” I touched the viddy screen lightly. “Enhance.”

The dark head I’d spotted was turned too far to make out the face. I tried again, several times, enhancing the images of several figures in the crowd, without luck.

“Stop. Enhance.”

The eyes. The set of the mouth, the arc of the chin. They belonged to a much younger man, but were still unmistakable. It was my Declan.

It was difficult to speak through my sudden grin, but I managed. “Stop. Run Citizen profile.”

“Citizen profile unavailable.”

The smile slid from my face. “Run Citizen profile.”

The answer hadn’t been a glitch. I asked another question. “Query. Profile restricted or deleted?”

A deleted Citizen Profile would mean Declan was into crazier things than seducing on-duty Ops. Only criminals took the extreme efforts required to delete the profile which every single Citizen accumulates since birth. I didn’t want to think about what that would mean.

“Restricted.”

Now here was a puzzle. I ran the clip again from the beginning and thought. I touched the viddy screen on Howard Adar’s face. “Citizen Profile.”

“Partial Citizen Profile available.”

“Run it.”

“Howard Frecious Adar, Citizen ranking 100,000 level. Son of Richard Adar, Newcity past Ruling Council Leader. Leader of Ruling Council for the past forty years. Married for forty-five years to Cyndira Winston Adar. Four natural children. Kantsta Adar Bullock, daughter. Farquinn Adar Lazar, daughter. Larden Adar Horat, daughter. Caldyx Declan Adar, son.”

“Reference. Caldyx Declan Adar.”

“Citizen ranking not applicable. Son of Howard Frecious Adar and Cyndira Winston Adar.”

The profile continued, listing his siblings, education and accomplishments, but I barely heard the rest.

Declan was an Adar. He was the son of Newcity’s most important Ruling Council Member. And, as far as I could figure out, he’d died six years ago.

Chapter Nine

Six years before I had paid no more attention to the news of the youngest Adar’s misfortune than necessary. With every viddy screen in Newcity blasting the broadcast repeatedly, it would’ve been impossible not to notice the story—but six years before I’d been living my own merciless existence in post-surgical rehab. Learning to walk again, to breathe and eat on my own, to speak, had taken up all of my time.

Caldyx Declan Adar had been driving his custom designed hovercycle along a deserted Calypigian beach, when a monstrous, irritable beast called a Thudjid, maddened by his proximity to her nest, rammed him. He’d lain in the sand for hours before family members noticed him missing from their vacation compound. When they finally discovered him, not even their vast amounts of wealth could buy his life. Or so the news stories said.

I was beginning to suspect a different truth. I knew all too well the stigma attached to becoming mecho. I’d lost a career and a marriage to it. How much more devastating would it be to a family as revered as the Adars? A family in which every member was held up as an example of perfection to the citizens of Newcity? People might forgive indiscretion and shady behavior, but not scars.

I sat back in my chair and stared at Declan’s face. Instead of death, he’d become mecho, and they’d hidden him away from society so as not to tarnish the family name. Surgery had changed his features enough that not even the ever-present media had figured it out.

Had he been a willing participant in the charade? I had to think so, at least at first. To a young man whose entire life had revolved around being recognized, lauded and imitated, suddenly becoming the object of thinly veiled disgust would’ve been too much to handle. “To thine own business attend” didn’t apply to the family that was the closest thing Newcity had to royalty.

It had been horribly difficult for me, and I was a mere common citizen. At least I had the advantage of being able to keep my condition a secret to strangers—he would not have had that option. Living in the public eye would’ve exposed the truth before his stitches had healed.

Yes, I could see how Caldyx Declan might have agreed to remain hidden. But no man, no healthy, intelligent man, could possibly bear isolation for long. No amount of money could replace a life. He must’ve decided to risk discovery.

“System, match. This Citizen,” I tapped the face on the viddy screen, “photos only.”

The picture faded, and a series of thumbnails popped up. I tapped the first. Declan in the background again, his smile brilliant enough to shine even in the crowd. I tapped the next thumbnail, and a similar picture came up.

“Busy boy,” I murmured, quickly viewing the first ten listed. In every one, he was in the background of some party, function or sports event. Never the subject of the photo itself, and never, other than the Frank viddy story, mentioned in context with the Adar family. He’d been careful about that.

I let System idle while I thought. Kaelyn fluttered around me until I told her to find something on the viddy to watch. She loved banal game shows I usually restricted as too annoying, so with a squeal of pleasure she went to the living room to gorge herself on the stupidity.

What to do now? More than ever, I determined I had to see him. Since I had a pretty good idea now of where I might find him, the only question was whether or not I had the guts to do it.

Seeking Declan out now meant more than opening my heart—it likely meant risking my job. If Howard Adar learned I’d discovered his family’s dirty secret, it might even mean losing my life. I had no doubts that one mecho R.I. Op would be no loss compared to the Adar family reputation—at least, not in Howard’s eyes. I also had no doubt he had the capability and the opportunity to remove the possibility of any embarrassment, including me.

I peeked in on Kaelyn, happily ensconced in her favorite chair, eyes glued to the viddy screen. A woman screamed as she was told she’d just won an all-expense-paid trip to New Bermuda. The losing contestants looked glum as the electric shock equipment was hooked up to their foreheads.

“What are you watching?” I paused to ask.

“A dancing show.” Kaelyn giggled. “Watch them dance.”

As she spoke, the losers of the game did start to dance. They danced so hard some of them began to smoke. I changed the channel to a less violent show, one where the losers only had to perform a humiliating feat rather than be physically harmed.

“That’s not a good show, Kaelyn.”

“My Gemma doesn’t like dancing?”

I patted her head. “Not that kind.”

She gave me a quizzical look. “My Gemma’s people are strange. On Eloven, we don’t have competitions.”

I hadn’t known that. “No games?”

She shook her head. “We all win.”

I couldn’t say I liked that any better than the show she’d been watching, but at least it wasn’t violent. “Kaelyn, I’m going to go out, after all.”

“To work?”

“Sort of.”

She frowned, then sighed. “All right, my Gemma.”

I thought of something. “Would you like to go out?”

Her fine features crumpled slightly. “Out?”

I thought of Declan, forced to remain in hiding. “Yes. Outside. To the park, maybe, or to eat at a restaurant?”

Kaelyn dissolved into frightened tears. “No, oh, no! My Gemma, are you angry with me? What have I done?”

She clutched my ankles until I bent to lift her up. “No, I’m not angry. Why would you think that?”

Her tears disturbed me. I wiped them away and rocked her in my arms until she quieted. Her hair was the texture of fine silk and smelled of spice. Her cheek was hot against mine and wet with her tears.

“You would make me go outside?”

“You don’t want to go outside?” I’d never asked her before.

She shuddered. “Oh, no. Someone might steal me away from you. It’s too big out there. And it smells.”

For a small Elovenian, used to a world full of nothing but beauty and peace, I could see how Newcity would be frightening. And she was right. Somebody might steal her. But I didn’t want her to be a prisoner. I had bought her, in the eyes of the law she was my property, but I did not own her.

“I just thought you might be tired of being in here all the time, that’s all.”

“Not when my Gemma comes home to me every day.”

She nestled closer to me, her tiny hands like curled birds against my dress. She felt no heavier than a bird must’ve been, and I closed my eyes against the sudden ache of mingled joy and grief in my heart.

What would happen to Kaelyn, I wondered, if something happened to me?

Few of the citizens on the pedtread met my gaze. It wasn’t that they ignored me, exactly. More like, when I put on the dark blue uniform, they simply didn’t see me. Unless they needed me or wanted to avoid me, I was a nonentity.

That anonymity would work to my advantage even more today, when I planned to access parts of Newcity in which I really had no jurisdiction. The Adar family, all of them, resided in a residential District surrounded by several blocks of security space. Technically, Newcity had outlawed segregation, voluntary or not, a century ago. Reality, as always when dealing with the wealthy and privileged, was different.

There are few places in Newcity where the pedtreads don’t run. You can even, if you’re so inclined, ride the treads all the way to Oldcity and beyond, to the empty land. Some people take day trips despite the discomfort and danger, to catch a glimpse of real earth and genuine sky. All tread routes ended, however, when the security space around the Adar’s home res-dist began.

I saw no warning signs and heard no alarms. The family was more subtle than that. The pedtread simply ended, its woven metal construction disappearing tidily into its slot in the pavement where it would travel underground back to its beginning and resurface for another journey.

I stepped onto the deserted concrete. It was quiet here, with nothing more than a low humming to disturb the silence. Quiet, and clean, a further indication traffic here was light. The street and the sidewalk both continued past the low plazbrick wall that indicated this as a non-res District. I didn’t see anything to stop me until I stepped past the wall.

“This District restricted to foot traffic.” System’s modulated female voice purred from hidden speakers. “Please retreat or face security measures.”

Security measures could mean anything from a mild electric shock to complete System alert. I wasn’t going to risk that. I stepped back to the other side of the wall, searched for the telltale black square that indicated the System access box, and spoke.

“Query. Hovertraffic accepted?”

“Affirmative.”

System only answered the questions I asked it—it wouldn’t extrapolate. “Query: next District restricted?”

“Affirmative. Next District requires Class A security clearance.”

I had that. “Query. Next District security clearance?”

“Restricted. Class A with further clearance codes and retscan required.”

“Command: summon hovertaxi to this location.”

“Command received. Citizen responsible for payment upon arrival of unit.”

My gut clenched at the thought of riding in the craft, but I was determined to end the day by finding Declan. In just a few minutes, a familiar face leaned out from the hovertaxi window.

“Hey, pretty lady.”

It was the scarred and philosophical Nivian who’d taken me and Eddie yesterday. For some reason, the sight of him calmed me enough to slip into the back seat without sweat breaking out on my forehead. I leaned forward to let his retscan unit clear me and deduct the credits from my account.

“Where to?”

I pointed ahead. “Through there.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. “You got security clearance?” He looked up and down my body, then grinned. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The craft moved smoothly forward, and I sat back in the seat. The security space was empty, concrete, devoid even of plantings that could beautify it. The message was clear: this place was not for pleasure. It had nothing to do with normal citizens. Anybody here better have a good reason.

My reason might not pass inspection for the Adar primogenitor, but it was good enough for me.

“Never been in this part of the city.” The Nivian met my eyes in his rearview mirror. “What you looking for?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

His throaty chuckle probably tumbled women into bed at the sound of it. “This someone part of the ruling family?”

Nivia still has a monarchy. Though technically Newcity is a democracy, his terminology wasn’t incorrect. He knew the importance of the Adar family.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not gonna tell me.”

I had to return his grin. “Nope.”

He shook his head as he guided the taxi around several concrete pillars. “Just like a cop.”

“Warning. Security clearance required.”

Once we drove through the pillars, the hovertaxi’s power cut out. The vehicle slid to the ground. The Nivian shrugged, helpless.

“All up to you, now.”

I got out of the vehicle and met the two secbots rolling out of their guard posts. I held up my tatbadge and opened my eyes so they could scan me.

“State your business.”

They don’t bother making secbots humanoid. All they need is speed and strength, and that can be better gained with wheels and multiple limbs. Even their voices are harsh and metallic, designed to intimidate. I’m not easily intimidated.

“I have an appointment with Declan Adar.”

A harsh whirring sound issued from the secbot to my right. “Citizen does not reside in this District. Please return to your craft.”

“Caldyx Declan Adar,” I amended.

Now the secbot on the left spoke up. “Citizen does not reside here. Please return to your craft.”

Secbots can’t lie. They’d been programmed not to know Declan still lived here. Howard and the family had taken every precaution.

“I have Class A Security Clearance. I have an appointment with a member of the Adar family, who do reside in this District.”

Whirring, then a click. “Appointment not recorded. Return to your craft.”

“You want me to leave?” The Nivian asked from through his window.

I waved him on. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You sure?” He sounded doubtful. “I don’t want to leave you here…”

“Go ahead.” I faced the secbots squarely. “I’ll be fine.”

“You take care, pretty lady.”

The hovertaxi moved smoothly away and left me alone with the secbots. They whirred and clicked menacingly. The red laser points of their visual circuits swept up and down my body. Checking for weapons, probably. I’d left my stunner at home.

“Access denied.”

“I have Class A sec clearance,” I repeated patiently. Secbots are strong, not smart. “Statute 5734756-49-XB states Citizens with appropriate sec clearance may have access to areas requiring that level of clearance without previous appointment.”

They whirred and clicked some more, but couldn’t really balk me on that one. The statute was obscure and rarely enforced. Citizens with high sec-clear are usually the ones smart enough to know where not to tread.

“Statute activated. You’ll be escorted.”

“Fine with me.”

Security around the Adar complex was clever. What appeared to be a continued empty lot disappeared when we passed through a sec-shield strong enough to leave sparks crackling along my fingertips. The faint scent of ozone tickled my nostrils.

We stood in a richly decorated foyer. Floors of inlaid wood, probably real and very expensive, met walls hung with luxurious draperies. A large closed door stood at the room’s opposite side.

“Wait here.”

The secbots slid back through the nondescript door through which they’d brought me. I waited. I touched one of the wall hangings. It felt like real silk. Even the air smelled like wealth.

After a moment, an elderly man appeared in the opposite door. He looked perfectly human from the waist up, but instead of legs, he was equipped with a square platform and two flexible treads. The treads rested on multiple moving pieces, which would allow him extreme maneuverability and the ability to climb stairs.