The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) (8 page)

Juliane could tell that he failed to see the connection. “Ah, well, I guess the show has to go on. I’m better winging it on the fly anyway.”

The nervous little man coughed. “Well, if everything has been worked out, it’s probably time for you both to take your places.”

Sparing Louis one more glare, Juliane whirled around and marched toward the stage, each step sharply punctuated by the click of her heel. At least her time with Alan had given her plenty of experience standing around in someone else’s spotlight.

As she passed, Chad gave her a quick sympathetic nod. She hoped for his sake that he had merely seen the program at some point while she was away at the spa rather than knowing about it in advance and not informing her.

The lights began to dim as visitors filed into the room. Each was given a pair of slim glasses as they entered. Louis had disappeared into the shadows. Juliane saw Alan pass by the auditorium doors on the way to his own room and plastered a killer smile on her face. She tried to at least take some measure of satisfaction in the knowledge that every person who entered was one less person attending his presentation.

Eventually, the room reached its capacity. The nervous little man with the clipboard made a few welcoming remarks as other staff in the back closed the heavy doors. She flicked her wrist ever so slightly, signaling Chad to begin the show.

Remaining lights abruptly switched off, sending the room into absolute darkness. Juliane listened as a few of the guests shifted nervously. The pillars' lights began to pulsate. The ceilings were replaced with an impression of a starry night. This, in time, was replaced with the dawn of a sunrise as the display panels came on-line.

The walls became a panoramic view of a seashore. On the horizon was a tall wooden ship. A smaller rowboat was slowly coming closer. The rowboat hit the shore. Men and women dressed in garb hundreds of years out of date crawled over the railing, some with joy radiating from their faces, others with trepidation. Juliane heard at least one person in the crowd gasp. The figures were so real, you thought you could reach out and touch flesh. Her skin prickled in response to where it was hit by virtual ocean spray.

The scene changed once again. The ocean transformed into a land worn to dirt and scarred from heavy wagon wheels. A hot dry wind blew, kicking up dust and grit, and filled the nostrils with the smell of horsehair and manure. Juliane could see a few people’s brows break out in a sweat as the artificial sun shown down upon them. A group of men rode by, startling a number of spectators. Once again, Juliane heard gasps, and she let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

The sun was replaced by artificial lights. The desert was replaced by the sterile cleanliness of a room very different from the one they were in. Gone was the smell of livestock, replaced with bleach and bad cologne. The room was filled with rows of large CRT monitors, large buttons, and dials. The image on the monitors showed a rocket firing into space. The operators of the monitors were jumping up and down in celebration, showing glimpses of garish plaid polyester pants on some.

Mission control faded away. They were in a city surrounded by traffic-congested streets. A tower of steel and glass shown like fire as it reflected back the orange hue of sky at sunset. Nearby, a man-made waterfall cascaded down the sides of a square. Even from this distance, several names could be seen etched into its sides. A crowd of people nearby cheered as a spire was raised on the tower. The tower was one of the most recognizable structures of all New York. Its existence was both a reminder of the past and a challenge issued to the future. A challenge to always rise up and move forward. A challenge to never be beaten by fear of the unknown. It was a challenge that Juliane accepted long ago. As a man bolted an etched brass plate into position, Juliane heard someone shout, “Where did they get this footage? That’s my grandpa!”

The simulation had been more than just canned footage and approximations. Her system had homed in on a few individuals within the crowd and cross-referenced their identification badges with historical reference information to create figures based on the composition of identifiable genealogy in the room. The gasps from the crowd had been those individuals either recognizing the event itself from their personal histories or a striking family resemblance.

The display panels turned off, and they were all once again in the Las Vegas Convention Center auditorium. Juliane looked into the shadows where Louis stood. He was frozen in place. His jaw hung open. She had provided a high-level summary of her plans for the introduction along with her script, but it was one thing to read about what would be on display and quite another to experience it. Meeting her eyes, Louis closed his lips and nodded in appreciation.

Louis stepped onto the dais to thunderous applause. The audience was rapt as Louis painted a picture of a bright future utilizing her technology, one where children could attend school from the safety of their own homes and live history lessons; one where international corporations could trim expenses by conducting meetings without travel, but also without sacrificing senses like touch; one where consumers could sample virtual products before buying them, reducing the need for stores to carry excessive inventory. The crowd ate up his every word as he worked them into a fever pitch. If there were any investors in the room, they had to take satisfaction in watching their wallets expand before their eyes.

Louis paused in mid-stride and smiled at Juliane before turning back to the crowd. “We are now at the dawn of a new age, an age where our history can be brought back to life and one where reality can be what we make of it. I would like to introduce you now to the brains behind this amazing advancement. If you haven’t already done so, please take off your glasses and put your hands together for Dr. Juliane Faris.”

As the lights gradually returned to full brightness, Juliane noticed a woman near the center of the room wipe away a tear as she removed her glasses. Whether the tear was from joy or from sorrow Juliane couldn't tell, but really, it didn't matter. That droplet of moisture proved their system was a success. Anyone could manipulate senses such as sight and sound, but that tear proved the scenes had been real enough to produce an emotional response.

Juliane scanned more faces in the crowd. Toward the back, cloaked in near shadow, was a man with hair nearly as black as hers. He was dressed in a dark, expensive, tailored suit. He met her gaze, inclining his head ever so slightly, before handing his glasses back to the small man with the clipboard and exiting the auditorium.

Juliane waited while the audience finally filed out of the auditorium. Her high from the presentation’s success had already transformed into uncertainty about her next steps. A trio of individuals, two males, one female, continued to orbit around Louis. They were an odd group. One man was desperately trying to hide a balding hairline in the front but appeared to lack the same concern about his backside. The other man, significantly younger, had coated his hair in enough gel that it could likely stop a bullet. The woman, a young blonde, had a smile fixed on her face that never quite reached her eyes. Juliane had the nagging suspicion that she had seen at least two of these three once before.

She watched Louis gesture toward the pillars with his charismatic grin firmly in place, but the motion was an afterthought. Rather than returning his hands to his side, he twirled a pair of the glasses while answering the rest of their questions. As impressive as his speech had been, Louis continued to misunderstand where the power behind the technology was housed.

The trio had closed in around him so tightly that she was unable to hear exactly what their questions were, but they looked like they were lapping up whatever he was dishing. The little man with the clipboard hovered impatiently on the fringe of the room. Most likely he would prefer to move the impromptu question-and-answer session out of the room so that he could begin preparations for its next usage, but he was nervous about interrupting such a powerful personage.

As Juliane watched Chad pack up their computing supplies without waiting for instruction, she realized she almost envied his complete lack of personal ambition. He was content to be a drone. Do as instructed, set up equipment, clean up equipment. Repeat. Her next steps were not as clear, yet whatever she did could impact her reputation. Should she take charge of the cleanup? It might reinforce that she was the expert, but it might make it look like she couldn't handle delegation. Should she inject herself into Louis's conversation? It might potentially jeopardize his media dynamic. Should she continue to play coy? Chad saw her looking at him, shrugged at her unspoken question, and continued with his task.

Juliane considered leaving the auditorium. She could listen to one of the other presentations, but that might ruin the illusion of mystery she was expected to maintain.
Am I still supposed to be mysterious after Louis's introduction?
she wondered.
She could go back to her room, but that would feel like surrender. She could go in search of something to eat, but found she had no appetite. Unsatisfied with any option, Juliane decided to continue to wait in the shadows while Louis basked in the glow of the public’s adoration.
He's turned me into Chad.

After agonizing minutes, Louis finally looked her way. She captured his focus and returned his attention with a fierce glare, the type of which frequently caused Chad to remember some errand he had to immediately attend to. She realized she shouldn’t have bothered with the effort. Rather than shivering from its icy point, Louis threw his head back in laughter. She was not able to maintain her ire faced with such genuine humor, and her visage softened. He gestured her quite urgently to come to his side.

“Of course, as I said on the dais, none of what you witnessed today could have been made possible without the lovely Dr. Juliane Faris. You may want to start lining your interviews up now, as she is destined to go down in the history books as one of the great innovators of our generation.” The trio, who had barely registered her presence, turned toward her like children shown candy. “Unfortunately for you, you aren’t going to be able to start with those interviews at this moment.” Juliane could have sworn the woman pouted. Juliane recognized her then as Melissa Bryant, a field reporter for the Financial Sector Times Network.
The other two must also be part of the press corps
, thought Juliane, although she was not as familiar with either of them. Louis crooked his elbow expectantly. “My lady?”

Juliane allowed her lips to turn up while taking his arm like an old-fashioned southern belle. Together, they departed the auditorium to the relief of Mr. Clipboard. As she glanced back, Mr. Clipboard put his finger to his ear, likely speaking into a wireless headset, as the convention center’s version of a SWAT team descended upon the now-vacant room.

Along the way down the hallway they passed the room where Alan was giving his own presentation. He did still have a fair turnout, but Juliane took a nearly indecent pleasure in the knowledge that his crowd was less than her own. The day might not have gone completely as she would have preferred, but at least she had this small triumph. Before she turned away, she noticed the same man with dark suit and hair. He was near the front of Alan’s stage, looking out toward the crowd rather than at Alan, and she could tell he had noticed her watching. The corners of his mouth pulled back in a wolf’s grin. As much as she wanted to continue walking, her legs were rooted to the floor. Louis turned to investigate the cause of the delay, and the moment was shattered.

Louis's expression hardened. The man tipped his head in Juliane’s direction before turning his attention back to Alan. Juliane jumped when Louis spoke. “I think today’s presentation was a success, don’t you?” His tone felt forced. As quickly as it came, the cloud over his features passed, and Juliane found herself thinking of an eager puppy dog looking at the expression that took its place. She felt her early annoyance melt away. While she might not have been given the opportunity to shine to her fullest, her algorithm had. “Durham’s probably out there getting himself into some trouble. How about we join him?”

She laughed. She had only spent a few hours with Durham, but could guess that Louis's jest wasn't far from the truth. Everything Juliane had done since childhood had been done with precision and had gotten her nowhere. Durham, on the other hand, struck Juliane as one who lived in the moment. And yet he was able to fly in a private jet and party with the rich and famous. Perhaps Alan had been right. Perhaps she should try letting her hair down too. She always did appreciate an intriguing experiment. She nodded at Louis to lead the way.

Louis’s private car met them at the door. Although Juliane couldn’t see any of the media represented, Louis continued to play the part of the gentleman, waiting by the door as the driver helped her enter the vehicle first. Once inside, he opened the bar compartment while the car departed toward the Vegas strip. It did not take long before Juliane began to feel the alcohol's effects on her empty stomach.

Traffic was still heavy, resulting in a slow procession down the strip. "Would you care for another?" Louis asked.

Juliane finished hers before they arrived at their destination, Club Dareeque. Rather than entering through the main lobby, Louis escorted her through a nondescript side entrance protected by some very large individuals in the standard uniform of black t-shirt and black pants. They made no effort to block their passage. Once inside, an extremely scantily-clad woman offered them more beverages, which Louis and Juliane both accepted with enthusiasm.

The nightlife was alive inside. As Louis predicted, Durham was its heart. He shook his neck and shoulders, loosening his muscles as he halved the distance between them. The multicolored lights throbbed in time with the blaring music. Conversation was futile as Durham pulled her onto the dance floor. Beverages continued to flow freely. At some point, she must have removed her jacket, but she couldn’t recall where it might be. The silky silver camisole she wore underneath shimmered as she twirled and swayed with Durham. She stretched her arms briefly back into her hair in an effort to cool her neck from its weight. She had never felt so alive. A voice inside her head urged her to slow down, warned her of tomorrow's hangover, but she couldn't force herself to care.