Firebirds Soaring (17 page)

Appie was stunned. Everyone said their thanks and good-byes and the clients couldn’t seem to get off screen fast enough.

Appie sighed, blinking, and turned to Julio. “Well, that went better than expected. Good job.”

“Hey, you did all the work, I was just backup. All the props should be for you.”

“Thanks. Well. Anyway, I hope we get the chance to work together again sometime.”

Julio smiled. “Hope is for wimps.” Then, shifting his voice to sound exactly like the voiceover to the company training vid, “At Worldtree, we make the future happen!” He tapped his remote and blipped out.

Still grinning, blushing, and shaking her head, Appie walked over to the workstation and sat down. She had to give Carolyn a report anyway. But asking for vacation time was dicey. Taking a deep breath, Appie messaged her manager.

Carolyn’s vid appeared in the upper right. “Oh, hi, Appie. That was fast. Your score is coming in just now. Wait for it . . . oh, wow! Mercator gave you four and a half stars, Appie! Good job!”

“Thanks, I—”

“Exceeded expectations. And Julio sent along a good word, too. I’m impressed. Takes a lot to get a compliment out of that boy.”

Appie was really hoping her blush couldn’t show up in pixels. “Um, thanks. I wanted to ask, Carolyn, about vacation? I’d like to take some?”

“Oh, thank God!”

“What? You . . . you’re okay with that?”

“Appie, the company gives you a week’s vacation for a
reason
. You’ve been here a year and you’ve only taken two days!”

“Thanksgiving and Christmas, yeah. But I was looking at the White Bison Resort and thought it sounded good.”

“Excellent. So, did you want to go soon?”

“If I could . . .”

“How about this weekend? White Bison’s got a springtime weekend special for Worldtree contractors. I can even set up a cheap flight for you—we get a good deal with Pacifica Air.”

“Um, cool. Great.”
Wow, is this a great company to work for or what?
thought Appie.

“Okay, I’ll move your project schedule around and get you all booked. I’ll e-mail you the details this afternoon. This is a great idea, Appie. I’m glad you’re taking some downtime. Gotta run. Bye.”

“Bye.” Carolyn’s image vanished, and Appie leaned back in her chair, blown away.
That was easy. Carolyn’s being really helpful. So . . . why am I still worried?

Two days later, the airport shuttle out of Fargo let Appie out in front of the White Bison Resort Lodge. Though it was just the beginning of May, the air was warm and full of scents Appie hadn’t smelled in a long time. Grass and sage, earthy and animally, made her nose tingle. All around her, the land stretched out for miles and miles, and the indigo sky arcing above her seemed huge. It was thrilling and unfamiliar, like a visit to an alien planet.

Appie went inside to the faux rustic interior of the lodge and registered. There was a nearby connecting doorway to the dining room of the Brownhorn Restaurant and, because she’d foolishly forgotten to bring food onto the flight, Appie was famished. She sent her weekender bag up to her room with a well-tipped bellhop and went right into the restaurant.

Appie showed the maître d’ her employee ID and was seated at a great table on the second floor. She had a fabulous view of the sunset over the plains. She’d scheduled a drive and hike tour for tomorrow that she was really looking forward to. Nevertheless, she put her small laptop on the table and opened it. It was a company resort, after all, and you never knew who’d be watching. She tried to think of some suggestion useful to the airline industry, but ever since the gas crisis of twenty eleven, the airlines were stripping as many services as they could. It had been years since anything but water was offered to passengers except on intercontinental flights, and already most flights under two hours were one-third stand-up passengers. Appie just couldn’t think of what more could be done.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Appie looked up. “Julio!”

“I’ll take that smile as a no.” Julio Tanaka sat down across the table from her.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re such a good Harbinger, Appie. I heard your idea for a quick weekend here at White Bison and decided it sounded fantastic.”

Appie laughed. “And I heard your idea for steak and decided to try this restaurant.”

“Here’s to great minds thinking alike,” said Julio, raising his water glass. “Um, that is, I hope you don’t mind sharing some of your weekend with me.”

“Mind?” Appie clinked her water glass with his, feeling supremely silly.
Well, so much for a
relaxing
weekend
, she thought. But she didn’t mind.

They talked restaurant biz over dinner. They talked music biz over dessert, noting how techno-mash-ups had made it into Muzak. They let their bodies do the talking as they danced into the wee hours of the morning at a resortified version of an old-school rave in the White Bison Auditorium.

Appie semi-awoke in panic the next morning because she had not heard the alarm. The next few moments she blundered around the hotel room, searching for the workstation, until she woke up enough to calm herself down. She was on vacation. It was okay.

She glanced at the bed. Julio wasn’t there, nor was there any sign he had been. Appie then remembered how she had pointedly turned him away when he escorted her back to the room.
Turned down a hottie like that. What’s up with me? Hope he isn’t mad.

But the bedside clock showed she’d better hustle if she was going to take the little ecotour she’d signed up for. Appie threw on clothes and brushed her hair and dashed out the door. She stopped by Julio’s room, fully expecting him to still be asleep or, worse, refuse to answer her knock. But in moments he opened the door, already dressed, looking wide awake. A phone rig hung in his ear and, looking past him, Appie could see his laptop open on the bedside table.

“Hi! You’re up,” Appie said in surprise.

“The early bird gathers no moss,” said Julio, grinning. “Already got two more projects lined up for when I get back. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock.
Did
you sleep?”

“In my own fashion. So what’s up today?”

“Got an ecotour. Um, I suppose you’re too busy—”

“No, not at all. This is vacation, right? I’ll be right there.”

A couple of minutes later, Julio joined her, wearing an armtop and still sporting the Bluetooth. They got down to the “duck” truck and found there was still an open slot, given that it was off season, so Julio paid and got on.

It was a glorious, sunny morning. The tour truck went by wetlands filled with geese and ducks, and prairie now repopulated with bounding antelope and great herds of lumbering bison. Eagles and hawks circled overhead, as well as vultures searching for scraps left behind by wolf and coyote packs. Appie took it all in, wide-eyed, but Julio seemed rather bored, mostly tapping something into his armtop.

The ecotour stopped at a low range of hills on which a nature trail had been constructed. Appie eagerly hopped out to hike around a bit, but Julio stayed in his seat.

“Aren’t you coming?” Appie asked.

“You go on ahead, I’ll be right after you.”

So Appie loped up the trail over the hill ridge. One arm of the trail led out onto open prairie. The rest of the tour group stayed on the hills for the view, so Appie went the way no one else was going. After about a quarter mile, she stopped. The only sounds were the hissing of the long grasses and birdsong. The sun was warm, and the wind was gentle. Appie closed her eyes and held out her arms to take it all in. She felt a part of herself opening up that had been closed for so long—

Something slapped the back of her head. “Stop that,” Julio said behind her.

“Hey!” Appie spun around, rubbing her scalp, and glared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. I was rescuing you.”

“Rescuing me? From what?”

“From what I call the rapture of the void. You think you’re getting all spiritual and connecting to the earth. Don’t fall for it, Appie. It’ll make you lose your edge.”

“Isn’t that what vacations, what this place, are
for
?” Appie demanded. “Aren’t experiences like this what living is for?”

“Don’t go all Opt-Out on me, girl. You’re better than that.”

“Opt-Out” was almost a dirty word in the cubio world. It was what cubions called folks who, despite being well educated, rebelled against the life of the mod-towers. People who chose to work few hours at simple jobs, live poor, spend little, and base their life around home and family. They were forming themselves into a movement called the Frugalists. A noted right-wing blogger had recently proclaimed that such people should be charged with treason for allowing the United States to “fall behind” India and China.

“No,” said Appie, “it’s just good to see that there’s more of the world out here. This is what we’re working for, right?”

Julio snorted. “This is what I’m working to avoid.”

“I don’t get you. Why did you come out here if you don’t like it?”

“Because I like to be reminded, too, but of something else. When I look out at all this, I see nothing, emptiness, a wilderness. The only worthwhile landscape is a place where humans have built things, or where the natural resources are being harvested. Where we’ve made our stamp of achievement. This land is not being productive. Out here, there’s nothing worthwhile for you or me. Nature is not some kind, warm mother, Appie. You, as a woman, should realize this. Can you imagine life like the ancient Native Americans, giving birth without hospitals, getting sick without modern medicine? Pure misery, Appie. We’re working so that humanity never has to experience that again.”

“Okay, I see your point, sort of. But, don’t we lose something in the process?” Appie protested.

“Stuff well lost, in my opinion,” said Julio, staring narrow-eyed at the horizon. He checked his armtop, then held out his hand to Appie. “Come walk with me.”

Uncertain, Appie took his hand. She felt so confused, admiration for his ambition mixed with revulsion.

He led her several yards away from the hills where the nature trail lay, to an outcropping of rock. Behind the rock they were hidden from anyone’s view. Julio glanced once more at his armtop, glanced overhead, then pulled Appie into a tight embrace, with a long kiss that went straight to her groin.

Well!
thought Appie,
at least part of him is human. He wanted to come out here for some romance. Shame he didn’t think to bring a blanket.

Julio’s hand moved down to her butt. And then Appie was aware of him slipping something small and rectangular into her back jeans pocket.

“You don’t have to give me your card. I know how to find you,” Appie murmured in his ear.

“Shhh. It’s not mine. It’s a lead. A hot one.”

Appie drew back, appalled. “You’re talking biz—”

“Shh! Kiss me! We might still be in view of the satellite,” he whispered loudly.

“Sat—oh.” As his lips fell hungrily on hers again, Appie realized that given Worldtree’s fleet of satellites, one was rarely not potentially viewable. After a long while, Appie finally drew back to catch her breath.

“If it’s such a hot lead,” she whispered, “why aren’t you handling it?”

“Plate’s too full,” Julio whispered back. “You need it more than I do. This could make your career, Appie. We Harbingers stick together, right? I wanted you to have it.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were kissing me because you liked me.”

“I
do
like you. I like you lots.” And the kissing continued so long, they nearly missed catching the ecotour truck back to the lodge.

One thing led to another, and the next morning when Appie woke up, Julio was in bed beside her. She watched his chest rise and fall as he slept, her feelings in vague turmoil. It had been good; Julio was skilled. But his eyes had been closed most of the time.

Appie got up, put on the flimsy bathrobe the resort provided, made a tiny pot of the weak coffee that came with the room, and strolled out to the deck. As the sun rose higher over the eastern horizon, Appie noted that not once did she wish for a remote. She wondered if she could download this scene for her cubio deck.

Appie heard Julio stir behind her as he got up to go to the bathroom. Minutes later he strolled out to join her, wearing only a bath towel around his waist and holding an open cell phone.

“Good morning,” Appie said, eyeing the phone with concern.

“You’re looking happy and rested,” said Julio cheerfully. “What do you say, did I show you a good time?”

“Well . . . sure . . . what, are you calling somebody?”

Julio managed to look annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m making a vid. A souvenir, to remember the weekend. C’mon. Give me a smile and tell me we had a good time, okay?”

Appie rolled her eyes but then remembered the better parts of the day before. She smiled and said, patiently, “I had a very good time with you, Julio. Thank you.”

“Excellent.” He snapped the phone shut. He walked up to her and kissed her lightly again. “When does your flight leave? ”

“Not until four. So I have most of the day to kill, if you—”

“Got a better idea. The restaurant, Brownhorn, needs a courier the first week of every month to take legal documents to their headquarters in San Francisco. I bet I can get you on a flight out of Fargo by eleven.”

“Oh,
Julio
,” Appie sighed in annoyance.

“It’ll show initiative! Besides,” he added in a whisper, leaning close, “it will give you a chance to check out the place I gave you.” He patted her butt. “They’re in SF too.”

Appie felt her hard-won happiness drain from her at cutting her vacation short. On the other hand, Julio’s go-getter attitude was getting on her last nerve. “Okay, okay. I’ll get back to work.”