Authors: L. J. Kendall
She felt her eyes widen, and she looked around, biting her fingers
.
Surely they wouldn't
really
be magic?
You couldn't put magic into food. Could you?
And why would they put
black
magic into food? That'd be stupid and dangerous.
Unless it was some kind of test?
She pressed the code for the bar, and watched it drop down into the slot below. Hesitating, she reached in cautiously, and plucked it out. Then sniffed the shiny black and gold package, with its picture of a dark molten liquid pouring itself into a gleaming row of almost-black buttons.
Peeling it open, an unfamiliar aroma wafted out.
She picked free one heavy lozenge, alert for magic; for any tingle of unease; any
kind of invisible attack… but nothing happened. It
just smelled… real good.
Making her decision, she bit into it, the dark substance crunching satisfyingly between her teeth and melting onto her tongue-
Oh.
Ohhh!
Her eyes closed as she ravaged it; plunging through the powerful bitter-sweet taste, churning it to paste while her tongue dived and swam through paradise, her hand clenched tightly on the packet.
As she hunted down the last smears and licked her lips, her eyes re-opened, and she stared at the packet in shock.
That was a-
mazing
!
I
t tasted like… magic.
S
o good!
But it's black magic.
She had to
stop
.
It's probably a trap!
She put the bar down, and backed away; watching the packet, alert
; knowing there were two more equally-delicious pieces inside.
And more in the machine…
How could
anything
taste that
good? She'd never tasted
anything
like that before, not in her whole life!
She listened, wondering if it would call to her, try to tempt her, like
She
had. But seconds passed; a minute… and nothing changed. Except her mouth watered. Turning away abruptly, she stripped off her clothes and pushed through the doors into the pool room, then dived from the edge, plung
ing deep.
But even as she held her breath, stroking through the caressing and enveloping water… from the next room, the Black Magic Bar called to her.
Chapter 6
A week later, Emma tossed her hand luggage onto the bed in her rooms in the Department. Un-kinking her tense shoulder muscles. Successes like today's were to be savored: Mother and Father had reserved ten days to complete the infiltration of Newtopia's Brazilian embassy, and she'd managed it in less than one. She allowed herself a small smile.
Not bad, if I do say so myself.
And yes, the size of Newtopia's investment in the Antarctica project was simply mind-boggling: far beyond what the consortium had needed for re-icing the continent. She wondered what Eagle suspected.
A shower and then dinner called, in that order. Undressing, she dug her toes luxuriously into the soft carpet.
«Shower»
, she ordered via her link, then stretched and stood, padding into her en-suite and considering dinner as she went.
Inlays of mother-of-pearl winked at her through the steam as she slid the glass door aside and stepped under the welcoming, cleansing stream with a sigh. «
Pulse surge
»
, she ordered, turning her back for the massaging spray to ease a tension knot.
She wondered how the new recruit was going. Perhaps Leeth might enjoy sharing dinner with her? Some female company would be nice. A smile quirked her lips: it would also be a chance to discuss the disappearing chocolate.
A little later, she left her rooms, accessing the security cameras until she spotted someone underwater in the pool, long black hair fanned out around a slim body. Wearing no swimming costume. And no one pulled her up for it.
Poor kid
. Emma didn't even want to
imagine
the sort of mission they were obviously grooming the child for. The depressing thought only reinforced her decision to invite her to dinner.
Leeth surfaced with a splash, lungs bursting, holding dice aloft triumphantly. Five! She'd been lucky, though: they'd landed in reverse order, so there'd been no need to retrace her route.
As she shook the water from her eyes she saw Emma standing at the poolside. She swam over, propping her forearms on the cool tiles, panting.
'Diving for pearls, Leeth?' Emma asked with a smile, brushing a lock of auburn hair back under a little black beret.
The girl grinned back. 'Kind of. It's a game I invented. You toss in a bunch of dice, and collect as many as you can in one breath. But you have to pick them up in the right order. It's fun – do you want to try?'
'Another time. I actually stopped by to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner. Unless you've already eaten?'
'I'd love to! I did eat, but it was a couple of hours ago. What time is it now, ten o'clock?'
'Nine thirty eight, actually.'
Emma saw Leeth's eyes dart to each of her bare wrists as if looking for a net-link, before frowning and pursing her lips determinedly.
Trying to work out how most of us are always so certain of the time?
Emma had the distinct impression Leeth didn't know they were augmented.
Almost, she considered letting her in on the small secret. But what'd be the fun in that?
Leeth shook water from her face. 'Sure, that'd be great! Now?'
Emma shrugged elegantly, pleased if a little surprised by the eager response. 'I'm starving. Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?'
Leeth tilted her head to one side as if puzzled by the question. Instead of answering, she opened one fist, dropping a small handful of bright red dice to clatter on the stone tiling by Emma's feet, then diving to the bottom at the pool's edge. Swimming a few meters along the wall, she turned, then launched herself up and out, landing on her feet; water cascading from her skin. The whole thing had been a single flowing movement, and Emma stepped back, stunned. Surely it wasn't possible for someone to simply
jump
out of a pool? She re-cued her visual input, watching in slow motion as Leeth emerged from the water. This time she saw the hands slap down
hard
on the tiles for extra lift.
'Actually, I'll be ready as soon as I dry myself.'
'How did you-? That was amazing!'
Leeth's face lit up. 'Really? I've been practicing and practicing. You know, in case I need to overpower a guard one day by a billionaire's pool. I copied it from Black Mambo in
Sweet Revenge
.'
While Emma stood, blinking, mouth open, Leeth picked up her dice and darted to the bench where she'd put her bathrobe, shrugging into it and patting herself dry.
'Okay, let's go!'
Emma collected herself. 'Ah, Leeth, you don't think you'll be cold?'
'Nah, I'm pretty hot blooded. What’ll we have for dinner?' she asked, linking her arm in Emma's and tugging her toward the exit.
'Do you like seafood?'
Leeth tilted her head. 'You mean fish?'
Emma paused. 'Ah, maybe. Look, why not let me choose? How hungry are you – would you like a starter as well as a main?'
Leeth looked at her blankly. 'Uh, sure, that sounds fine.'
'Wait, why don't we dress up, too? We can pretend we're having a girls’ night out!'
A little later, in Leeth's rooms, Emma helped her choose an outfit.
Strangely, apart from a few uniformly-tight items of gym wear, and a small selection of sensible shoes, there were
only
outfits suitable for clubbing.
'I take it you like the corseted look? I don't know why you bothe
r – I
'd kill for your figure,' she said.
'You even have a faint six-pack!'
The girl froze
. Emma
turned, and met a deadly serious expression: there in Leeth's walk-in wardrobe, still naked, the girl was ready to fight.
Then, just as suddenly, Leeth's posture relaxed. 'That's just an expression, right? You couldn't get my figure by killing me.'
Hoo, boy!
'That's right.'
With a conscious effort, Emma smiled
. 'Why don't we go for the classic LBDs, and do your makeup? I haven't seen you dolled up yet.'
Leeth's expression chilled.
Now what did I say wrong
, Emma wondered?
Little Brother had organized and delivered their order with his usual efficiency. Emma watched now with enjoyment as Leeth cracked the last claw, extracting a final mouthful of lobster, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. '
Mmm
, that was amazing! The best dinner I've
ever
had. I think I ate too much! Can you show me the combination for lobster mornay? Uncle will be
so
impressed!'
Emma blinked. 'The combination?'
'Sure, the texture and flavor settings.'
'Flavor settings?'
'Emma, don't be mean! For the T.V.P unit in the canteen,' she explained.
'TVP?'
The girl scowled. 'All right, be like that. See if I care. I'll work it out for myself. I reckon it's chewy-3, bite-3, water-4, maybe salt-2, cheese-6, lots of 621 to enhance the flavors-'
'Wait, stop. There's a textured vegetable protein dispenser in the canteen?'
Leeth's eyes narrowed, her head tilting to one side.
'And you've been using that to prepare meals for yourself and the Doctor since you've been here?'
A slow nod.
Emma covered her mouth with one hand. 'How did you, um, find it?'
'The third day after we got here, I scouted around. It was pretty easy – all the places you're not allowed to go won't unlock, so anything that does unlock means you're allowed in. And I recognized the food machine since it was like the one we had at the Institute.'
'The institute?'
'The Institute for Paranormal Dysfunction. That's where Uncle and me came from.'
Emma
stilled
. 'That's… interesting. What – ah, what sort of things did you both do there?'
Leeth frowned. 'Uncle researched stuff. I used to just hunt things in the woods, mainly, and do lessons and train. Faith and I patrolled each night – she was a robodog – and sometimes I'd talk to Godsson. It was-'
She stopped, remembering they weren't supposed to talk about what had happened there, to people who didn't already know about it. On the other hand, she did need to find people who knew about Godsson, so she could convince people to let him free.
'Ah, did you talk to God's Son a lot?'
Leeth nodded eagerly. 'Oh! You know about him?'
'Ye-es, Leeth. Most people have at least heard of him.'
'They have? That's great! Are they
all
scared of him? Do they know where…?' She paused, then continued more quietly. 'Um, do they know where he lives?'
Emma frowned.
Was this what Mother and Father had meant, when they'd warned her not to discuss morals, or ethics?
That didn't seem to quite fit, though. She probed, carefully.
'Do
you
know where he lives, Leeth?'
Leeth started to nod, then stopped herself. 'I asked you first.'
'The Institute for Paranormal Dysfunction, yes?' Emma called up the sketchy data she'd found online, much earlier. The material appeared in small panes around Leeth's face, so she could scan it again as they spoke. 'Were there many other… famous people there, besides Jesus?'
Leeth frowned. 'Who?'
Ahh
, Emma thought. 'Leeth, surely you know the Institute holds, um, people who are a little divorced from reality, yes?'
Leeth threw herself back in her seat, angry and disappointed. 'Never mind. You don't know.'
Which means I can't talk about him
. 'You were going to tell me the combination for lobster mornay.'
'Combination?'
'Yeah. On the meal dispenser.'
Emma didn't answer straight away, then shook her head slowly, and braced herself. 'Um, Leeth, I don't know how to tell you this, but if you'd read all the familiarization literature, in the section under "Dining" you would've seen a link address for ordering meals. Little Brother takes the deliveries. Real food, not reconstituted and flavored soy products. Have you been selecting meals from the food dispenser every night since you've been here?'
Leeth nodded, slowly. 'Not just at night. And not just for me, for Uncle too.'
They stared at one another, and the corners of Emma's mouth began to twitch as she struggled not to laugh.
Leeth looked puzzled, then annoyed. 'Do you mean I could've – we could've been having lobster mornay any time we wanted?'
Emma didn't trust herself to speak, just nodded, as she pictured the two sawing into plates full of chemically flavored fodder. A small snigger escaped, and she had to clamp one hand over her mouth.
It was the look of injured confusion that finally cracked Emma's control, and she snorted.
Leeth's offended look deepened, which somehow made the situation funnier still, and a laugh exploded from Emma despite herself, though she quickly turned it into a series of coughs.
Leeth scowled. 'It wasn't just textured vegetable protein – I also found a store cupboard, with some spaghetti in
tubes
.' She grimaced, remembering. 'It was pretty crunchy, though.'