World-Mart (29 page)

She wore Mrs. Conrad’s expensive
coat and accessories
throughout the night, despite the well-heated room, afraid that
it
might disappear forever if she were to take
it
off.  She woke in a heavy sweat, but still she refused to give up even the boots or hat, determined that she would have the means to brave the cold again if need be.

The morning slowly moved into afternoon, and Virginia slipped outside to check on the weather.  The snow was melting quickly, although the temperature had risen only slightly since yesterday.  Ray would be back any time, now, according to the men guarding the place, although they had been insisting upon his arrival for hours.  Virginia felt like she was wasting time just sitting there, waiting, while Corporate actively planned their demise.

Ray finally arrived in the late afternoon, accompanied by several other people Virginia did not recognize.

Virginia hurried up to Ray and followed him into the main cave.  “I need to talk to you.”

Ray seemed surprised to see Virginia, and even more surprised at her attire.  “Virginia, right?”

Virginia nodded.  “I really need to talk to you.”

Ray sat down at his desk, logging onto his computer.  He turned to one of his men.  “I want a full report every hour.”

The man nodded, and then he and the others disappeared down a rocky hall.

Ray took a deep breath and turned to Virginia.  “I’m sorry, my dear, but aren’t you supposed to be at the Conrads’ estate?”

“There was an incident,” Virginia said, not wanting to rehash all of the horrible details.  “I found some interesting information on their computer, though—”

“We already received the information from one of my other men,” Ray said gruffly, but then smiled and patted her on the shoulder.  “But good job.  At least I know whose side you’re on.”

Virginia frowned, taken aback.  “What do you mean by that?”

Ray gave his most sincere face, and he answered directly and without hesitation.  “It would only be natural for you to have some enduring loyalties to
your old life
.  I’m actually quite impressed with your development.  Perhaps your brain actually did catch up with your eyes.”

Virginia wiped the sweat from the side of her face and neck, no longer able to handle the heavy layers of fur.  She took off the hat and unbuttoned her coat.  With another thought, she kicked off the boots, sighing with great relief as her body breathed for the first time in two days.

Ray inputted several commands with a few clicks of the mouse, his attention quickly returning to his computer.  He watched her in the reflection of this monitor as he worked.  “I assume
that is
Mrs. Conrad’s
coat
you’re wearing?”

“How else was I going to get back here through the snow?”

“May I ask if you know whether Mrs. Conrad is still alive?” Ray asked.

“Why do you ask?”

Ray picked up his hand-held computer and began inputting commands.  “Her last login was quite disturbing,” he said as he turned to face Virginia.  “You said there was an incident?”

Virginia took a deep breath, and then proceeded to explain the series of events to the best of her ability.  Ray stared back for a moment, taking in the story, and then he began to punch in a few new commands on his hand-held computer.

“But you would say Mrs. Conrad is probably still alive?” he asked.

“I locked her in the basement.”

Ray entered a command for one of his most seasoned men to investigate the Conrad estate, and then set the hand-held into its computer port.  He synchronized the databases, sending his commands to the other three headquarters.

Ray and Isaac had come up with an immediate counterattack to Corporate’s development of HD-1a, as well as Mrs. Conrad’s allegation that deviants had killed her husband.  Isaac had his laboratory staff working at all four locations to produce enough Blue Dust to infect the entire quadroplex.  Meanwhile, Ray had assassins hunting down every Corporate their intelligence could track, silently taking them down, one by one, as they left from their fortress-like estates.

“I’m still looking for volunteers for our next big project,” Ray said.  “Can I count on your help?”

Virginia nodded.

“You
look like you could use a hot bath
.”  Ray pointed to a narrow tunnel on his right.  “I’ve got a tub in my sleeping quarters.  You can get cleaned up in there, scrub your clothes.”  He immediately shifted his attention back to his work, letting her know that their conversation was over.

“Thanks,” Virginia said, moving to the dark cave.  “Where’s the light?” she asked, hesitant to go any further.

“Motion activated,” he said, annoyed.

Virginia slipped through the narrow tunnel, feeling her way to the adjoining cave.  As Ray promised, an overhead light flickered on as soon as she entered the large room.

There was a king-sized bed on one side, two dressers, and a bathtub with hot running water.  Virginia waited to make sure no one followed behind her, and then she filled the tub and removed her sweaty clothes.  The hot bath was relaxing, and it felt good to rinse off the sticky layer of sweat her body had accumulated over the past couple of days.  Still, she washed and got out as quickly as she could, wrapping herself in Ray’s thick bathrobe.  She scrubbed her clothes in the warm, soapy water, and then hung
them
to dry along the side of the tub.

Holding the robe close to her body, Virginia padded barefoot through the tunnel, finding Ray right where she had left him.  Beside him, however, there was now an untouched tray of fruit and sandwiches.

“Lunch?” Ray asked as Virginia slowly entered the cave.

Virginia hurried to the food, taking a small helping of all that was offered.

Ray picked up a peanut butter sandwich and leisurely nibbled at it.  “Slow down.  You’ll give yourself indigestion.”  He confirmed that all of his logistics were set, and then flipped off the computer monitor.  “I see you found something clean to change into
.”

Virginia blushed, clasping the fabric with one hand to keep her chest and legs from showing through.  “I couldn’t find anything else.”

Unable to eat any more, Virginia found a chair and curled up beneath the robe.  She watched Ray slowly finish his sandwich, the silence killing her.  “I know why you developed HD-1, the Blue Dust, or whatever you want to call it,” she finally said.  “I’m not sorry this happened to me.  Not anymore, anyway.
  I’ve seen so much . . . and I’m glad to know what I now know.
”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ray said, contemplating all that remained available on the food tray.  He picked up a nectarine and took a large, juicy bite.  He chewed slowly, savoring the sweet fruit.  “We stole a whole shipment of these from
Corporate
growers in this district.  We’re selling them at the deviant market for ten cents on the dollar.”  He gave Virginia a dire look.  “Scurvy is a big problem in the shantytowns.”

Virginia looked down, feeling as though she needed to apologize for all of the suffering deviants had endured throughout the years.  She had to apologize for humanity, and for all the years she took her freedom and her rights as a human being for granted.  “I’m sorry,” she finally said aloud.

“Beg pardon?” Ray asked, finishing his nectarine, licking the juice from his fingers.

“I’m sorry that humanity let you all down so miserably,” Virginia said, her throat knotting up.

“Humanity let you down, too, if I remember correctly,” he quickly replied, setting the nectarine pit aside.

Virginia nodded, and she covered her face with embarrassment as she began to cry.

“You’ve lost a lot, my dear,” Ray continued, getting up and wiping off his hands.  He went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.  “I can tell you’re a strong woman.  You’ll survive this.”

Virginia looked up, feeling a sense of calm from his reassuring face.  He wiped away her tears, and she closed her eyes as his hand gently caressed her face.  His hands smelled faintly of nectarine, the sweet scent soothing and inviting.

“I’m sorry,” she said once more, another wave of tears coming as her mind drifted to thoughts of her estranged husband and kids.

“It’s time now to think of the future,” Ray said, wiping away her new tears.  “Dwelling on the past will only hold you back.”

Virginia nodded, staring into his icy blue eyes.  She felt her wedding band on her right ring finger, and a faint cry escaped her as she pulled it off.  “For the future,” she said as she dropped the gold ring into the palm of Ray’s hand and closed it into a tight fist.

Ray’s eyes met hers, and he gave her a quick nod of gratitude.  “A generous donation.”

He wiped her face once more, the smell of nectarines brushing over her cheeks, and then he softly kissed her anxious lips.

She turned away.  “I’m sorry . . . I can’t.”

He watched her, his own face wrought with desire and confusion as she turned back and their eyes met again.  She wiped the tears from her face and new ones immediately took their place.

He clasped the wedding band tightly in his hand, then disappeared alone down the dark cave.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

GEORGE
followed Joseph through the wet, smelly trails leading to the edge of town.  Joseph had a bag of items with him, cleaned up bits of trash with which he could barter for necessities at the market.  He made the trip roughly once a week, picking up as many food staples and toiletries as his bag of recycled trash could buy.  Amy generally stayed behind to guard their home from potential invaders, and as a result, the nearly two-mile walk was usually
lonely
.  Sometimes, he would find more items along the way to add to his bag, although stopping to search through the distant piles always inevitably tacked even more
time
onto his already lengthy trip.  Every once in a while, he would bump into a neighbor on his way, but usually he didn’t see another soul until he neared the market. 

 George continuously gagged, the melting snow bringing out the worst of the pungent, decomposing stench all around them.  He looked around, his stomach nauseated even further by the inescapable sight of soggy trash and rust-colored puddles of garbage water.  He noticed that Joseph didn’t seem bothered at all by
it
or the endless mountains of trash, and he assumed that the poor man’s olfactory system had burned out long ago from living amongst that rotten, putrid smell for so many years.

“I hope the weather holds,” Joseph said, wary of the lingering clouds.

“It just seems to get worse every year,” George said, not offering a direct response to Joseph’s comment, but keeping the small-talk going just the same.

“You’re not kidding.”  Joseph shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other, the weight of it beginning to pull uncomfortably against his back.  “I hope the cold weather doesn’t affect today’s market.  That last flash-blizzard caught a lot of people off-guard,” he added, his tone of voice offering a genuine level of concern.