The Rule of Luck (15 page)

The pod pulled away from the hotel and its momentum knocked me into one of its seats. I tried to get up. Couldn't. My legs wouldn't lift me. Instead, I could do little more than remain in my seat as the pod carried me away from the fighting, and presumably, to safety.

I cried all the way back to the hotel. When Oksana found me huddled in the pod, I tried to tell her about Pennyworth. She said she already knew, and Petriv's instructions were to get me out of the country on the next commercial flight. To her knowledge, Pennyworth reported that the TransWorld
golovorez
—“thugs” in Russian—had been dealt with and he'd gone to ground. As for where Petriv was, I had no idea. Which really hurt. He'd orchestrated this whole thing, and I wanted him to clean up the mess he'd made of my life.

As for Roy, I wasn't sure what devastated me most: that he'd probably never loved me, or that he'd been a plant and reported my every move back to my mother. I'm sure he liked me well enough, or he couldn't have played at being my boyfriend as well as he had. Maybe he'd found it exciting to fuck two different women at the same time. Whatever the case, I felt violated and sick to my stomach. It made me feel dirty. It hurt, but in a different way from what Petriv had done, even though I was still mad at him too. At least Petriv wanted to wake me up from the lies. Still, how was I supposed to trust anyone now? This…this was just too much for anyone to live through.

The great surprise in all of this was Oksana. She sat by my side, held my hand, wiped my tears, made sure I ate and slept, and got me on the right plane home. She didn't offer any mood-altering medications. I'm not sure I would have accepted if she had, but was glad I didn't have the option.

The worst moment of all came when she escorted me back to the condo I shared with Roy and we stood at the door, about to go in.

“This is an unwise decision,” Oksana said, not for the first time. “We could be playing directly into TransWorld's hands. If Alexei knew about this, he would never allow it.”

“This is my home and I can't run away from my life. I just want a few things from the condo.”

“There's nothing here you can't purchase elsewhere. What's more, you lived here with that dog who played on your emotions. Stay in a hotel. Come back when you're certain it's safe,” she said.

“I know you're right, but I'm afraid I'll never come back if I wait too long.”

I punched in my access code and unlocked the door. It swung open without resistance. I stepped inside, looked around, and my jaw dropped. Everything, I mean
everything
, was gone. The furniture. Wall hangings and pictures. Even the scorch mark. The carpet had changed. The flooring was different. The cupboards in the kitchen looked as if they'd never been used. I ran to the bedroom. Nothing. My closet. Nothing. All my clothes were gone. My office. My cupboard filled with cards. Oh gods,
my cards
! My quirky table, Eleat. Gone. The only deck I had was the one I'd taken to Denver.

I swayed on my feet, clutching my chest. This was worse than the auction. Worse than Roy's betrayal. This was my whole life gone. Me, erased. As if I'd never existed!

“Tell me Petriv had nothing to do with this!
Tell me
!”

“Nothing! I swear it,” Oksana replied, hands up in surrender, looking as horrified as I felt.

“I want him to tell me that to my face.” I looked at my bracelet in frustration, realizing I had no way to actually get in touch with him. How was that possible when the man seemed to have complete control over my life? “How do I shim him? I want to talk to him,
now
.”

“Right now, our priority is to leave. If whoever did this left you access to the condo, it means they still expect you to return here. Your being here may have triggered an alarm. We could have unwanted guests any minute.”

“TransWorld?”

“It seems likely. I've contacted Alexei. He will send a team. If any clues remain, they will find them. In the meantime, we must leave here immediately.”

“Why would they do this me? Why would they take all my things?”

“To make you believe you can't fight back. They want you to think that turning yourself over to them is the only option.”

I looked wide-eyed at Oksana.

“I swear to you Alexei will not let that happen.”

“How? How can he do anything against people who can do this?” I gestured to my empty condo. “What if he can't find my things? My cards? My whole life was here! What if—?”

“I swear to you, he will.”

“But what if he can't—?”

Oksana grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little. “I promise you, he will move heaven and earth to find who did this and restore everything you lost.”

An involuntary tear leaked out. I dashed it away with an angry swipe. “What happens now? Where do I go?”

“Oh, dear girl,” Oksana murmured, embracing me. I let her because it just felt nice to have someone care. “You're part of the Tsarist Consortium now. We always look after our own.”

A flight-limo had already arrived to pick us up. During the ride, I focused on my bracelet, tapping in a list of things I needed to do: find somewhere to live, get clothes, destroy TransWorld—though not necessarily in that order. I could always crash with family. However, the news of my breakup with Roy would sweep through the clan like wildfire and I'd have to endure their questions. I couldn't handle scrutiny and judgment now. Worse, what if TransWorld came looking for me and someone got hurt? I'd have to stay away until this nightmare was over.

As for my things, once I calmed down a little, I realized I didn't care about most of them. The furniture and the paintings—I may have selected them with care at the time, but it really didn't matter if I ever saw them again. I certainly didn't want to see anything that reminded me of Roy. I suppose I didn't even care that much about my clothes or my shoes; everything was replaceable with enough money. Plus, the shop hadn't been touched and I still had some things there. What really mattered to me were my cards, Eleat, and family mementos like Granny G's quilt—personal things that could never be replaced; the things that told the story of who I was. Those I wanted back desperately.

A tug in my stomach announced the flight-limo's descent. I looked out the window, unfamiliar with the scenery. In fact, I doubted the Y-Line, for all its claims of public transit for all, even reached this part of the world.

I couldn't see any highways—just huge tracts of lush forest, grass, and flowers, all impeccably manicured. Against the blue sky and its puffy white clouds, the landscape was a sea of emerald. As we dropped lower, I saw a multitude of sidewalks. These linked shops and cafes hidden amongst gardens. Beyond that were the houses. My breath caught. They were massive affairs sprawling over thousands of square feet. In the city, we lived on top of each other in condos piled high enough to brush the clouds. Outside the Kibera slum and any government-sanctioned parks, every space imaginable contained at least some sort of high-rise. What I saw now didn't exist anymore, at least not in the world I lived. No one I knew could afford something like this when space was at a premium.

I threw a look over my shoulder at Oksana. “Is this still Nairobi?” I asked as the flight-limo set down on a paved landing pad in a field of rolling greenery. One of the massive homes I'd admired earlier sat a short distance away. Up close, it looked even more impressive.

“For tax purposes, I suppose it is. The locals call it the Glade, though I'm not sure the name's appropriate since it's all manmade and none of the plants are native.”

Ah, the Glade. Where the richest of the rich lived. Unsurprising. I should have guessed, but then again, I wasn't at my brightest.

“Whose house is that?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Without the direct CN-net access, I sometimes forget you don't connect things as the rest of us do…I apologize—that sounds rude. Blame it on my no-nonsense Russian upbringing. It's Alexei's home. It's where he lives whenever he's in this part of the world.”

“Okay…” I pressed, “but why am I here?”

“Again, I apologize. He's invited you to live here until you've sorted yourself out.”

It was as bad as I feared. “Pardon me for saying so, but that's a terrible idea. I can't possibly live here. It's dozens of miles from the city. How will I get to my shop? What if I need…I don't know…milk or something?”

“You will have a flight-limo on standby at all times. However it might be best to not worry about work until we've sorted some things out.”

“I don't think living in his house is really appropriate.”

She waved a hand, dismissing my protests. “Bah! The house is so large you'll never see each other. And he's here so rarely. Anyway, you are with the Consortium now, so it's all irrelevant.”

“I'm not even Russian. Isn't that a requirement?”

Oksana laughed. “If Alexei has offered you employment, you're one of us for as long as the relationship is mutually beneficially.”

Part of me wondered if something was lost in translation, so I tried again. “That's great, but this is only temporary. After I've finished with this…project…I'll be going back to my old life.” Ugh. My old life didn't exist anymore. “Well, I mean…I can't stay here forever.”

Oksana smiled and patted my hand. “That's not what's intended. What happened to you is awful. You need help and we are offering. Nothing more, nothing less. If you have another plan, we will not stand in your way.”

I didn't say what I thought, which was I wouldn't have needed their help if not for them. But all they'd done was remove the blindfold and reveal the truth. How could I blame them? I sighed. “When you put it like that, how can I refuse? Thank you.”

“Here comes the man himself,” Oksana replied with a nod toward the tinted window behind me. “You can thank him personally.”

A chain-breaker slid my door open. With no little fear and trepidation, I crawled out, blinking in the sunlight like some creature who'd emerged from under a rock. A sidewalk of smooth, irregularly shaped gray stones about ten feet wide led from the landing pad to the house. Gardens lined either side. Petriv came down the sidewalk, and my stomach gave a lurch.

He looked like he'd been caught relaxing, taking a walk, or doing whatever crime lords did on their days off. His dark hair was slicked back from his face and he wore a lightweight white sweater and gray pants. Despite the horror of the last twelve hours, I found myself wanting him. I suspected I probably shouldn't be having such thoughts, yet there they were. Maybe I'd temporarily gone into shock and wasn't thinking properly. Or maybe it was because I no longer had boyfriend guilt to worry about. The only person I had to worry about hurting was me.

Petriv stopped in front of me, put his hands along my neck, and tilted my face up to his with his thumbs. His hands were warm as he moved my head back and forth, examining me as if he were a doctor and could read all my problems from my face. The proprietary gesture and the closeness unnerved me, but he wouldn't let me pull away.

“How are you?” he asked, his expression severe and assessing as he studied me. “Have you even slept? When did you eat last?”

There were so many unresolved issues, it didn't surprise me in the least when I started in with: “Why didn't you tell me I'd have Pennyworth riding shotgun?”

Without missing a beat, he said, “He had unique skills for the job we required. I knew he could get you in and out of the auction without issue, as well as contain the situation should things go awry.”

“You knew seeing him would be a problem for me.”

“Regardless, he could do what I needed. He accepted our retainer and fulfilled our contract's terms.”

I frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means he kept you safe to the best of his abilities. Would you like to know specifics?”

No I wouldn't, but decided I couldn't afford to be a coward about it. “Tell me.”

“Three TransWorld agents tried to detain you as you left the auction, which you witnessed. Pennyworth killed them and disposed of the bodies. Another two attempted to capture you at TT1. Mr. Pennyworth intercepted those as well.”

Wow. That was
not
what I had expected. I would have slumped a little if Petriv hadn't held me up.

“You're shocked?”

“Of course I'm shocked! He killed five people! How did you think I'd react?” I bit my tongue, fighting to hold back the rest of what threatened to come out of my mouth. Finally I managed to ask, “Is Pennyworth is still alive?”

Petriv looked amused. “He's more difficult to kill than one might expect.”

I swallowed and tried not to hyperventilate. “Is this how the Tsarist Consortium handles everything? With murder? Is this what the tri-system can expect if you win the transit link contract?”

“We aren't the monsters the CN-net news outlets portray. Everyone knows One Gov fears what it can't control. It's time for change, and the Consortium is the only group with the vision and the resources to bring it about. One Gov's utopia has cracks and you would know that if you chose to see beyond the propaganda.” Petriv's hands tightened around my neck. Not in a frightening way, but enough that I grabbed his wrists as if I could somehow hold him still.

“What I've seen so far doesn't look all that great. Will more people die before this is over?”

He leaned close and pulled me nearer until our faces were inches apart. I couldn't fight him without hurting myself. Oddly, I didn't want to fight anymore. Instead, a curious weakness swept over me and I felt my insides tighten with want. After everything I'd been through, how could I still feel like this for him? I should have been angrier or having a meltdown of epic proportions, screaming at him for using me and putting me in this awful situation. I shouldn't have wanted to be closer to him. Damn me and my stupid gut feeling.

“I prefer it not to be the case, but it may be unavoidable. Mr. Pennyworth did as ordered. He kept you safe and intact. Or would you rather have had your memory wiped clean and been sent back to your existence of lies? I'm sure all your things are set up in another condo somewhere, sitting just as you remember them, waiting for you to return none the wiser. Perhaps Roy is waiting there for you as well, ready to act as if none of this happened.”