The Rule of Luck, page 9
I sipped my coffee as I opened my card cabinet and rifled through the decks, afraid of what I was about to do next. For the first time in my life, I was going to do a reading for my mother.
I’ve never held by the theory that the person you’re reading needs to handle the deck. It’s a nice theatrical touch if you’re putting on a show, but I’ve found it’s unnecessary. Usually I concentrate on the person, what I want to know—or what they want—then lay the spread.
I pulled a deck at random, and believe me, there were a lot to choose from. I collected decks of Tarot cards the way some girls collected shoes—although I collected a lot of those as well. I pulled the Heart and Soul deck. Interesting. It had been a gift from a former lover who’d wanted me to run away with him to Mars. Brody Williams had been fun for a few months and helped me get over the crushing pain of Dante’s desertion, but Mars wasn’t practical and I had no desire to get emotionally involved with anyone so soon after Dante, even if Brody had brought me back to life when I felt like dying. He’d told me to keep them as a reminder of our time together. Then he disappeared and I didn’t hear from him again. Sometimes I still wondered about him and what might have happened if he’d approached me at a different time in my life. I assumed he was living on Mars now, but I’d probably never really know.
I slipped the cards from their case—which was lined with black satin to keep the energies neutral—and idly shuffled, thinking about my mother. It was a small palm-sized deck, so shuffling was easy. The backs were patterned in swirling pastels, beginning with ridges of spikes and ending in curlicues. The cards had a velvety feel and for some reason smelled like cinnamon to me. I always felt comforted when I used them—they felt like a hug from a good friend.
I touched the table and it lit up a clear, warm white; then the reflective surface became opaque. “Good afternoon, Felicia,” the table said, its voice warm and feminine. “It has been several days since you were here last. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Thanks Eleat. Start a new file, please. Call it ‘Vaillancourt.’ Lock it with the usual password security.”
“Yes, Felicia. I will begin recording when you are ready. I see you have selected the Heart and Soul deck. This must be regarding a personal issue?”
See? Quirky table. “I won’t know for sure until I’m done. Begin recording.”
I took another sip of coffee and cut the cards. “Okay, Mom, let’s see what you’ve been up to while you pretended to be dead.”
I laid down a classic ten-card spread. As I suspected, the reading contained many Major Arcana—the High Priestess, the Hermit, and the Wheel of Fortune. Monique Vaillancourt was a focused, driven woman, determined to make her own way in the world, whatever the cost. She was intelligent and looked to herself for answers, knowing that only she had the will to make what she wanted a reality. No surprise there. Of the Minor Arcana, the cards were split between golds and souls. Finance and career. I found no evidence of any strong personal relationships influencing her. Nothing whatsoever about a love interest—not even my father as a love from the past. She made decisions solely on how they influenced her career. She felt no regret about the choices she’d made or the things she’d left behind, including me. I shivered. My mother was a frightening woman.
I dictated a few notes to Eleat on my general feelings and impressions, made sure the layout had been recorded, and gathered up the cards. Next, I opened a new file and laid another spread, focusing on the man who worked for my mother—the one Petriv wanted me to discredit. Maybe the cards would give me something I could twist to my advantage.
This time, the deck gave me all Minor Arcana—daggers, hearts, and golds. This man led a double life and had an unfaithful heart. He was a liar and a cheat. I saw the Queen of Daggers—definitely my mother—controlling his actions, but he didn’t mind because it paid well, as shown by the Four of Daggers, reversed. A greedy bastard. Oddly, it showed love lost as well. Interesting. That would give me something to work with once Petriv introduced us. I squelched any feelings of guilt. This was for my future with Roy. If I couldn’t do this, I should just quit now.
I scooped up the deck, gazing thoughtfully into the distance. My coffee had gone cold by the time I sipped it again, so I tapped the table for more heat. With my interaction, Eleat woke from suspend mode.
“You have been quiet, Felicia. Shall I shut down?”
“No, let’s try one more. Open a new file. Call it ‘Petriv.’ ”
“Yes, Felicia. Begin recording when ready.”
To my shame, I ran the cards no less than eight times—Eleat was kind enough to keep track. I ran spreads on the success of his venture, his past, his future, his work relationships, his love life, his relationship with me. I wanted to understand him and what he and the Tsarist Consortium hoped to gain by controlling the Earth-to-Mars transit link. What did he mean when he said he wanted to bring down One Gov?
By the time I’d finished, my head spun, but I’d learned something about Petriv. Unfortunately, it scared me. His readings contained too many daggers—strategy and conflict. They were also rife with Major Arcana, meaning his struggles were internalized. He acted on his surroundings, not the other way round. Most troubling, again and again in every reading, I drew the Lovers and Death. Symbolic? Maybe. Something to be wary of? Most definitely. I looked at the Lovers again, my mind flashing back to Petriv’s lips on mine and one of the last things he’d said to me before I left the restaurant: “There is very little standing in my way.” I trembled at those words and wondered what he’d really meant by them.
A glance out the window showed the sky had faded to black. The sun typically set around six thirty in Nairobi, meaning I’d worked the whole afternoon. Four solid hours of readings. No wonder I felt drained. My hair had dried into a frizzy mess and my feet and legs were cold. Hell, I was still wearing my bathrobe. My stomach rumbled too. Plus, that meant Roy was still out cold in the bedroom. I needed to check on him.
I glanced at my c-tex messages. One from Natty, invoicing our expenses for the next two weeks. My eyebrows rose at the total—I suspected Charlie Zero had padded the numbers with some magic math. Still, I left it. Who knew what situations I’d run into over the next two weeks? I deserved some danger pay. I moved the invoice to the CN-net protocol at the shop. Once I saw Petriv, I would transfer it to him.
I got up from the desk and stretched. A soft knock sounded on the door. “Can I come in?” Roy stepped inside before I could speak, looking rumpled and greenish, eyes bloodshot.
“I have to go in to work tonight. Just got a ping from the CN-net.”
My mouth opened in surprise. “That’s kind of last minute.”
He shrugged. “I was expecting it, actually. There’s a shipment coming in from Mars with a couple of perps that need tailing. It could make or break my case. I have to be at Spencer Lift Station in two hours. I’ll be pulling at least three twenty-four-hour shifts back-to-back.”
Spencer Lift Station was the terminal point for the Indian Ocean space elevator. If Roy left now, MPLE transport would have him there just in time. For everyone else, the trip meant a Y-Line shoot to Jomo Kenyatta International, a twenty-minute speed-burst flight to Moi International in Mombasa, another pod ride to Kilindini Harbor, and finally a hovercraft jaunt out to the terminal point proper. The whole journey could take most of the day. That MPLE could do it in two hours was impressive.
“Will you be okay?” I asked. “You had a lot to drink.”
“I woke up earlier and took the al-effects. They helped. Doesn’t matter anyway. MPLE wants me there.”
I knew it was wrong, but the relief I felt at the change in plans left me weak-kneed. I’d be gone and back from Denver with Roy none the wiser.
“When you get home, we need to talk.”
“I know.” He ducked his head, looked sheepish, and ran his fingers through his short blond hair. It stood up in various places. “I overreacted. I’m not sure what got into me. When I couldn’t locate you, I got scared.”
“So you decided to drink? That doesn’t seem like the logical thing to do.”
“I never said it was logical. I just got scared.”
“About what? You could have contacted the police or…” I caught myself mid-sentence. I didn’t want to discuss this now that I was off the hook.
He stepped farther into the office, shrugging into his jacket at the same time. “I just want to know you’re safe and sticking close to home until I get back.”
“I’ll be here. No big plans for the next few days,” I said, shoving down the guilt.
I stood, offering my cheek for a perfunctory good-bye kiss. Petriv’s words came back to me like a blow, along with the realization that if I truly loved Roy, I never would have let him touch me. Fucker.
When Roy’s kiss came, it was in the form of lips pressed against my hairline. No passion whatsoever. “I’ll see you in four days. We’ll do something special when I get back.”
“Okay. I’ll try to think of something,” I made myself say.
He grinned, pulling me closer. I molded myself to him. I’d show Petriv how much I loved my boyfriend! “That’s my girl. Maybe we could try that—”
My bracelet fluttered against my wrist. “Felicia, you have received a face-chat shim. I have it in suspend. Contact and location are unrecognizable and unhackable. I cannot identify this link. Would you like me to reroute and dump?” the ever-helpful Eleat asked.
Weird. I only received fact-chat shims from friends and family. You needed an old c-tex for that and hardly anyone outside my circle of contacts owned one. If Eleat couldn’t identify them, this wasn’t a shim I needed to deal with.
“Yes,” I said, keeping my eyes on Roy, whose smile became a frown.
“What’s that about?” he asked.
“I’ve no idea. What were you saying?”
My bracelet fluttered again. Again, Eleat intercepted. “Felicia, you have another shim. Same contact and location as previously. Would you like me to reroute and dump?”
“They seem persistent,” Roy mused.
“It’s probably nothing. Eleat, disconnect.” Back to Roy: “I just want to know everything’s okay.”
“We’re okay.” His arm tightened around me. “Everything is fine, and like I said, we’ll do something special—”
My bracelet fluttered. “Felicia, you have another shim. Same contact and location. Shall I reroute and dump?”
Roy pulled back and gave me a level look. “I think you should answer it.”
I frowned, not liking the expression on his face. I tapped the jewels, releasing the shim. Up popped the holo face-chat. “Yes?”
“Felicia Sevigny?” asked a high-pitched nasal voice, words heavily accented. In the display, I could see a sandy haired male. He wore a dark suit with a glittery collar fastened just below his Adam’s apple. “Why do you use such ancient, primitive tech? I must begin an immediate download and have no local CN-net protocol to latch against. Without your CNP, how do I know this is even a secure link? Your flat-file avatar is atrocious. No download, no travel documentation, and no immunity.”
“Who the hell is that?” Roy asked, brows drawn in a frown to match his mouth. “Why is he talking about your travel permits?” He fixed me with his cop stare and my whole world began to slide sideways.
He couldn’t know! He just couldn’t or it would all be for nothing! He wouldn’t understand, much less approve. So I panicked and did the only thing I could think of: I cut the link.
Chapter Seven
Good one, Felicia, I berated myself. Way to be a confident woman in charge of your own destiny.
“Did you just disconnect so I couldn’t see?” Roy looked at me in disbelief. “Are you five years old or something?”
“No. I mean, yes. I didn’t want you to see,” I said, stalling. “I mean, he works for a new client who’s asked for complete privacy. I didn’t realize he’d contact me so quickly or I’d have reprogrammed Eleat to accept the message. He wants me to run the cards on the success of his racing picks for the Nairobi regatta this weekend, and that’s all I’m saying. Everything else is confidential.” Good save, I congratulated myself.
“Must be one hell of a client if you gave him your direct shim link.”
“The race starts in two days. There isn’t a lot of time. And he’s paying well.”
His frown eased a little. “Fair enough. Word of advice though: Russians are vicious. Avoid them if you can. If not, get your money and get out as fast as possible. Based on his flunky, this one seems like a piece of work. Be careful about what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Felicia, you have another shim. Shall I—?”
“Put it on hold, Eleat! I’ll deal with it in a minute.”
“Yes, Felicia. Timer commencing now.”
Roy laughed. “Looks like we’re both on a countdown. I need to get going. Love you.”
“Love you back,” I answered, and received another kiss on the forehead. Then he headed down the hall and out the door. I heard it slam behind him. Crisis averted.
“One minute is up. Recommencing shim,” Eleat announced.
“Wait. No. I’m not ready!”
Unconcerned with my state of readiness, Eleat launched the shim and I faced a pissed-off, irate-looking Russian. “Does Gospodin Petriv allow you to treat him so rudely?”
Wonderful. Maybe I needed to rethink the Russian language lessons. “I don’t know what that means. Gospodin?”
“It’s a title of respect. Something you know little about.”
“I apologize,” I ground out in my best “aim to please” voice. “You called at an inconvenient time.”
“I plan on making a full report of this arrogance,” he ranted. “It is a mistake, involving someone so ignorant. A Tarot card reader. Vy durak. Not even chipped! I can’t even do the most basic workup on you! I’ve never been party to something so ill-advised and ridiculous.”
More insults rained down in both English and Russian. He may have also spat on the ground. Gods, who was this officious twerp?
“May I speak with Mr. Petriv?” I interrupted. “I’m sure we can clear this up.”
The look on his face suggested I’d asked him to hand me a golden apple directly from the sun. I wasn’t sure if it was his disgust in me or his need to protect Petriv that had him so horrified, but I didn’t wait around to find out. Two could play this game.
“Please give my regards to Mr. Petriv, and be sure to tell him it was your fault I couldn’t attend the auction in Denver. However, I still expect to be paid for my time. Good evening.”
Take that, asshole! I disconnected and went to see what was for supper. I needed to think about getting dressed too, or at least getting out of my robe and dealing with however much of the day I had left.
I padded down the hall, averting my eyes from the scorch mark, which would just have made me angry all over again. At the end of the hall was the extra bedroom we’d converted into a closet. This was another condo upgrade, installing a dummy closet AI with limited intelligence that could handle sorting, cleaning, and clothing repair and maintenance if needed. We described what clothing we wanted, and the closet would present it. It did everything but dress us. I loved it more than I loved the shower.
I stood at the closet interface just outside the door, facing an array of clothing and shoes lined up on rod after rod, shelf after shelf. I had so much more stuff than Roy—almost like he didn’t even live here. Then again, I had a look to maintain for the shop, while Roy spent his time undercover or in uniform. It made sense the closet held fewer of his belongings. Plus, I might have a tiny weakness when it comes to shopping.
“Loungewear,” I instructed.
The display flashed its selections, I tapped the screen, and the rods rotated along the track until soft black cotton pants and a tunic appeared. I slipped them on, threw my robe into the laundry basket, and went to the kitchen.
My bracelet fluttered against my forearm again. I grinned; it took all of fifteen minutes for the Consortium to get back to me. I sat in an armchair, put my feet up, and tapped the jewels on my bracelet. Flunky was back. His expression looked chastened, and unlike the previous state of his immaculate clothing, it appeared there might be blood on his collar. Note to self: don’t get on Petriv’s bad side.
“Ms. Sevigny, I apologize for my earlier behavior. I spoke without thinking and should not have let my irritation with your lack of tech get the better of me. I’ve been set to rights and have come up with a way around this situation.”
“I’m so glad we can come to an understanding, Mr.…I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Dr. Karol Rogov. You may call me Karol.”
“That’s wonderful, Karol.” I sounded like a bitch even to myself. “And will we be working together on an ongoing basis?”
“I work as Gospodin Petriv sees fit. I have your documentation ready to enter the United Confederation of the West, which I will transfer to your c-tex bracelet. I also have your itinerary and resource allocation. Without a neural connection to the CN-net, you won’t be able to upload directly to memory and will need time to glean the basics. You will also find the information you requested regarding Monique Vaillancourt, which you may examine at your leisure.”
“Perfect. Begin the transfer to my shop’s CNP. I’m linked through there. Also, I’ve had my assistant prepare an invoice for my services for two weeks. You’ll find that on the CNP. Please deliver it to Mr. Petriv.”
