Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) Read online

  Brody took Keira's hand and led her off the dance floor toward a small empty round table. I picked up my glass and shoved away from the bar, then chose a closer seat. The smooth melody from the piano and the conversations around us made it difficult to hear their discussion. I settled into my chair and rolled my shoulders. Keira needed time to do her job.

  I stirred my martini and took another sip. Then I let my mind wander, using a technique I'd learned to help relieve stress. It had been a very long day at the office, not to mention my father. I breathed in deeply and let image after image pass through my mind and drift away. The background music and lively atmosphere at the Dry Martini helped. I'd begun to feel almost perfectly relaxed when Keira brushed by me on her way out. I waited and continued to enjoy my drink until Brody left too. Even though they'd been having these “board meetings” every Tuesday for the past year, they never arrived together or left together.

  Outside, Keira leaned against a sleek silver automobile, vintage, mid-21st century. The upkeep cost a small fortune, but it was worth it. Image was everything to the Elite. Plus, as a leader of the Resistance, it was imperative that I had a reliable way to get around.

  Expectations...I reminded myself that I needed to talk with Keira about a few other expectations sometime soon. That, and my father, but not right now.

  “You following me?” The corners of her lips teased upward. “If I didn't know any better, sir, I'd assume you were interested in me.”

  I reached over and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close. “You'd better assume that.”

  Keira's brilliant green eyes sparkled as she tilted her head back, flexed her fingers through my hair and gently pulled me forward. Her full red lips parted ever so slightly and deepened the kiss. It obliterated all remnants of my stress. After a few moments, we parted.

  “After you, m'lady.” I gestured to the backseat.

  “'My lady?' What's the occasion? An anniversary of some kind?” Keira's eyebrows arched as I settled onto the black leather seat beside her. Eberhardt started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  “You could say that.” I pulled my hand out of my pocket and dropped the pendant so it dangled on its chain between us. “A year ago today I gave you this.”

  On that same day I'd told her that her brother, Scott, and I had founded the Resistance.

  “I think that calls for dessert at the very least, and I know of a place with the best tiramisu.”

  Keira smiled and turned away from me. After I fastened the clasp, she removed the wig. Her long wavy black hair tumbled down and brushed against the back of my hand. It sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

  Eberhardt slowed to a stop as we approached The Coffee Shoppe. Despite the late hour, it looked like we may have to wait for a table. One hand was already on the door latch when I felt a slight pressure on my arm. I turned. Keira gripped my forearm and looked past me, out the tinted window. I followed her gaze. Dammit, there was another one.

  After the Ramsey Corps incident last year, large bounties had been placed on all three Maddock siblings. We weren't seeing them as often anymore. Whoever had set the bounties seemed to be giving up. Still it was best to take precautions. The contact number couldn't be traced, not even by Raquelle, so we really had no idea who wanted them. It could have been a renegade group of doctors set on continuing genetic experimentation or a group of high ranking Gov officials determined not to lose valuable assets. It was even possible that Elaine Ramsey had returned and formed an alliance with Celia Beckett. Both had connections and both had good reasons for revenge.

  Whoever it was, they'd made a mistake. At 350,000 gats per head, they'd set the bounty too high. Keira assured me that no professional Freelancer would touch it for fear of losing their own head after the job was complete, and amateurs were of little concern.

  We'd done what we could. Raquelle, a genius at all things techno, had scoured the System and located and destroyed all of the digital images she could find of Keira, Scott and April. The image on this poster looked like it been sketched first and then run through a data processor program. The bright green eyes were really the only similarity, but their shape was wrong.

  Keira opened her purse and removed a silver clip with an intricately woven design. By simply pinning up her naturally black hair, she looked absolutely nothing like that of the young woman with wavy blond hair in the full color wanted poster.

  After a short wait, the hostess led us to a small table near the front of the cafe. I ordered coffee and tiramisu for two.

  “Coffee? I'll be up all night!” Keira said.

  Coffee was yet another privilege reserved for the Elite. As such, Keira had never developed a tolerance for the bitter drink, and she was absolutely right. She would be up all night.

  I winked at her and ran my fingers gently down her arm. “That won't be a problem, will it? I'm sure we can find something to do.”

  She grinned. “Are you off tomorrow?”

  “I am, and I took the liberty of canceling your training session with Eberhardt and the Raiders.”

  “Shit! Wait here.” Keira suddenly pushed back her chair and walked out the front door.

  That certainly wasn't the reaction I expected. I saw him then, just before he pulled away from the window. What is he doing here? I pulled out my wallet. 40 gats should more than cover it. I threw the bills onto the table and hurried after Keira. She had disappeared, but I spotted my car halfway down the block. Perhaps Eberhardt had seen where they'd gone.

  -Keira-

  Brody Delaney

  I grabbed Brody's coat sleeve and dragged him into a dark alley next to the cafe.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I shoved into his gut with my left shoulder, pressed him against the wall and held a knife to his throat. Granted it was a butter knife from the cafe, but I'd had to improvise.

  His pale green eyes widened.

  “Are you following me?”

  “Yes...well...I just thought...” he mumbled before he regained control. “What will it take for you to trust me? I've put in enough time, haven't I? I've given you free rides out of the realm whenever you've asked, not to mention whatever fugitives and contraband you've been taking with you. I thought maybe if I showed some initiative...” he faltered, but then spoke up again. “I've seen that before.” He stared at my pendant.

  Just then we heard a trill.

  “Is that a duck?” he asked.

  “No, that's not a duck!” I snapped. “It's a grey treefrog.” I had to remind myself that I too had wondered about that sound less than a year ago. It was, in fact, my transceiver, and that would be Guy.

  I sighed and pulled away. Brody dropped to the ground. He wasn't going anywhere. I dug in my purse and lifted the transceiver to my ear. Brody moved one hand to his throat as he eyed the butter knife. Then he casually raked his fingers through his dark brown hair.

  Without a word, I closed the connection and gestured toward the silver automobile that rolled into view at the end of the alley. As we approached, the back door swung open. Without hesitation, Brody climbed in next to Guy. I had to admit, he'd come a long way from the man I'd targeted a year ago. I sat in front, next to Eberhardt.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Um, I don't know.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat. “Do any of you know somewhere we can talk in private?”

  “How about my apartment?” Brody offered. “You seem to know all of my secrets anyway. For all I know, you've already been there.”

  My eyes snapped open, and I turned around. Brody was looking at me, but it was Guy who answered. “It's probably bugged.”

  I nodded in agreement but kept my eyes trained on Brody. “I've never been there,” I said in an even tone.

  “No?” he asked in surprise. “I just thought... Wait, I wouldn't record our conversations.”

  None of us responded. We simply waited for the realization to sink in. It took him less than 30 seconds.
>
  “You think my apartment is bugged?” Brody turned toward Guy.

  “You're the head of CalTech. What do you think?” Guy looked at me then. “Didn't you warn him?”

  “I warned him to be careful!” I stared at Brody. “In fact, I specifically told you not to talk about any of our arrangements.”

  He shook his head and stuttered, “I...I haven't. I haven't told anyone anything about you.” He paused, clearly trying to remember every conversation he'd had in his apartment over the past year.

  Guy gave him some time before he asked, “Have you said anything that could be used against you?”

  “I don't think so. Other than our meetings at the Dry Martini, I know I haven't spoken a word about any of our arrangements.” He emphasized the word arrangements.

  “Just keep driving,” I instructed Eberhardt. “We'll talk in here.” I turned as far as my seat belt would allow.

  Brody wasn't looking at me anymore. He studied Guy, and Guy looked right back at him. “So you're her boss?”

  We spoke simultaneously. “No!”

  He turned back to me. “Who should I be talking to then?”

  Guy sighed. “Do you know what a Freelancer is?”

  Brody nodded.

  “Then you understand that Kendra is in charge of her own actions.” He used my alias, but when he said 'Kendra' he looked at me and realization hit.

  He thinks I should tell Brody the truth. I thought about the past year, about all of our weekly “board meetings,” about all that he had agreed to. Brody had come through every time with no questions asked.

  Guy continued, “You're her client, so talk to her.” He looked out the window and left the rest up to me.

  I instructed Eberhardt to pull over so Guy and I could change places. It would be easier to talk with Brody if I weren't getting a crick in my neck.

  “Okay, where to begin?”

  “How about with that pendant? I'm sure I would have remembered if you'd worn it before.”

  I dug in my purse and pulled out a business card. It featured my real name and contact number over a faint imprint of a serpent striking at a coin. I handed it to Brody.

  “Keira? Not Kendra? All this time...”

  “Use public transceivers to call me. Your line is probably tapped, and I'm finally trusting you with this. Don't make me regret it.”

  “Or what? You'll put a butter knife to my throat?”

  I smiled. “You'd be surprised what I can do with a butter knife. But seriously, the wrong people could find me.”

  “And that would be bad.”

  “Yes.”

  “They'd kill you?”

  “No, it would be much worse.” One lone tear trailed down my cheek. I hurriedly brushed it away.

  “What's worse than death?” Brody asked.

  “That's a story for another time.”

  -Brody-

  Secrets and Lies

  Kendra. No, Keira. That would take some getting used to. “Can you tell me about the symbol? I recognize it, but I don't know what it means.”

  Instead of answering directly, she touched her pendant. “Where have you seen this before?”

  “A co-worker's doodles.”

  Keira looked surprised, as did both men in the front seat. I still didn't know their names. She turned her attention to the one who wasn't her boss, the one she had been intimate with outside of The Dry Martini. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. Was he the reason she'd told me she wasn't available a year ago?

  “Do we have someone else at CalTech?” she asked.

  The man shook his head, and Keira returned her attention to me.

  “Who?”

  Finally, some leverage. “What does it mean?”

  “It's the symbol for the Resistance. You really have been helping to save lives, Brody. I never lied to you about that.”

  “Oh, you lied to me. Omissions, a false name...you lied plain and simple.”

  “Well, it was necessary.” She had the decency to look uncomfortable.

  “It's my secretary, Irene. Do you think she's part of the Resistance too?”

  “No. How long has she worked for you?”

  “Just a few weeks in her current position, but she was with the company long before that.”

  The driver spoke up then. “Could be she's looking for help.”

  His sentiment surprised me. With his large size and muscular build, he didn't exactly look the type to be advocating for the weak.

  “It's possible, but it's more likely she's a long term plant,” the other man said.

  Keira listened to them but watched me. “Brody, would you trust Irene with your life?”

  “No.” I'd learned the unhappy truth that being at the top meant I couldn't trust anyone.

  “Then don't trust her at all, but treat her just the same as always. Otherwise, they'll know something has changed.”

  “They?”

  “The Gov probably,” Keira said. “If you have a long term plant, then somebody pretty high up is interested in you. It's likely because of your ties to us.”

  “Or it could be because I'm the head of one of the top security companies in the realm.” Should I tell them about the contract?

  “It's best not to assume anything,” the driver reminded us.

  The man in the passenger seat spoke again. “Keira's right. Don't trust Irene. Something doesn't feel right. If she asks you about the Resistance directly, tell her you think it's an urban legend. Then notify us. Oh, and give Keira her card back.”

  “Why?” I looked at the business card still in my hand.

  “Take this instead.” He wrote her number on a blank scrap of paper and handed it to me.

  I returned the business card to Keira.

  “Remember, only call that number in an emergency and only from a transceiver that's not yours.” He looked at both of us. “You two need to continue to meet just as you have been. Don't do anything different. Don't change your routines.”

  “Or something worse than death could happen,” I said.

  They let me off in a well lit area within walking distance of the company car, a black convertible. A year ago, I'd have been in way over my head. But not now.

  -Guy-

  Moving Ahead

  As Eberhardt maneuvered back into traffic, Keira's stomach grumbled loudly.

  “Thunderstorm's approaching,” Eberhardt said. He caught my eye in the rear view mirror. I'd returned to the backseat when we dropped off Brody.

  I smiled and draped my arm around Keira's shoulders. “Anyone still care for dessert?”

  The Coffee Shoppe no longer looked overly crowded, but I was relieved when Keira said, “Can't we take it home?” Eberhardt graciously offered to run in. Keira sighed and leaned against me. I shifted so she could rest her head on my shoulder. It brought back a memory of the night we'd first met; she'd leaned against me in just this way.

  “What's on your mind?” I asked.

  “Just wondering.”

  “About what?”

  “Are they after me or us?”

  “We're back to that?”

  “The last time we thought they were trying to bring down the Resistance, we were wrong. What if we're wrong again?”

  I sighed. “Well, we know someone is after you, and we know many oppose the Resistance. We would have to be naive to assume otherwise.”

  “Paranoia, what a way to live!” she said as Eberhardt climbed back into the car.

  The glow from a streetlamp briefly illuminated the scar on his left cheek. Then it was gone, hidden in shadows.

  “Paranoia, I can tell you a thing or two about that,” he said.

  Since his wife's death a couple of months ago, Eberhardt had thrown himself into his work. Training sessions for various groups of Raiders now took place on a daily basis, and as a result, Eberhardt got two, and sometimes three, workouts a day.

  Back at the apartment, I balanced the box of tiramisu with one hand and unlocked
the front door with the other. Using my right foot and shoulder, I held the door open for Keira. She hurried inside and entered the security code. Eberhardt had already returned to his own smaller apartment downstairs. I set the tiramisu on the dining table while Keira retrieved dessert plates and forks from the kitchen. I watched as she took her first bite.

  Keira closed her eyes. “Mmm, this is delicious!”

  I smiled. “Happy anniversary.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled too. Then she took another bite.

  “You did really well tonight.”

  She didn't respond. I took her cue, and we ate in silence, enjoying the creamy decadence. When she'd finished her last bite and had pushed her plate away, Keira was finally ready to talk.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “Like I said in the car, we're going to keep to our routines. To do otherwise would only alert the wrong people.”

  “That's all?”

  “No. I have an idea. The next time you meet with Brody, I want you to ask him to get someone else past security at the airport.”

  “What? But if they're onto us, shouldn't we avoid that?”

  I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. “If they really were onto us, we wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation. I think they're still looking for proof, so you need to ask him to get someone through, a couple or a small group if possible.”

  “Who?”

  “Let Brody decide, someone he knows personally, as a favor. If he does this for friends now and then, who's to say the others we've sent through weren't friends of his too?”

  “Okay, I'll ask him next week.” She picked at her nails. Keira only did that when she was worried.

  “You've seemed off for days now. Is it April?”

  She nodded and corrected me. “She prefers Aimee now. She'll be coming home in just a couple of weeks.”

  “I'd think that would make you happy.”

  “It does.”

  I waited for her to continue.