CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Day Three
“Hey, Chev,” Eric called from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m ready to go.” It had been their habit for some time, and even with recent events he didn’t see reason to break it. Often he gave Chevelle a ride to school on his motorcycle. Eric fought back a chuckle, finding it funny that even though it no longer had wheels and the motor was more of a generator, they had never changed the name from motorcycle. Another name for it, hoverbike, was still off since it no longer had a pair of wheels it could hardly be called a bike.
“Just a minute,” Chevelle called back. Eric was starting to doubt the invitation now. This would be the first time since his date with Heaven that they would really have a chance to talk. She’d inevitably have all sorts of questions for him about the date and what Heaven was like with him. All sorts of questions that he’d really rather avoid right now.
Heaven came bounding down the stairs, just about rolling him over. She was dressed and showered already, in some of Chevelle’s clothes, he noticed, a blue and white striped shirt with a brown vest-jacket.
“What are you doing up?” he asked, fully expecting her to still be sleeping. There’s not a chance that he’d be up if he didn’t have to go to school.
“Nice,” she said, with a fake punch to the arm. “You mind if I come to school with you today?” she asked, blue eyes sparkling beneath her golden blond bangs.
“Um, is that okay with you, Chevelle?”
Eric looked up the stairs. Chevelle came around the corner as she finished pulling her shirt down to her waist. “What’s that?”
“Do you mind if I give Heaven a ride to school today?” Eric said. “You could ride the bus?”
Chevelle didn’t answer right away, jaw open as she put on a pair of earrings. She didn’t frown but she certainly didn’t seem excited. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” she said, walking away. “See you at school.”
Eric grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. “You sure you don’t want to go around town, see more of the future or something?”
Heaven shrugged. “I did enough of that yesterday. I’d rather spend the day with you.”
***
After Dravin left, Director Rohon Church arranged for an agent to take care of Cecilia. When she was finally done being processed and brought to a cell to stay overnight, Cecilia was so exhausted that she quickly fell asleep. She awoke in the morning with a start, immediately at attention, the significance of the previous day filling her with urgency.
She stood up and walked to the edge of the cell, hanging on the bars. Cecilia still had on the same clothes she was wearing the day of the event two days earlier, and they were starting to feel grungy and icky on her. She wondered what she might look like to the guards, but that didn’t stop her.
“Excuse me, is there anyone there?” she called out. The cell next to her was empty and there was no one in sight. Presumably a guard waited just down the hall. The cells were on one of the basement levels of the IIA building for temporary holding. “Hello? I just want to use the phone,” she called out again. “Don’t I still get a phone call?”
She had asked to use the phone the night before when the agent was processing her, getting her prison arrangements set up, she shuddered at the thought, but the agent would have none of it, whether by orders or just wanting to get home for the night. Cecilia called out again, anxious to get ahold of Alina. They had to know what was coming.
After calling out for yet a third time the guard did come down the hall to her cell. Her eyes were shot. The guard could probably tell she was on the verge of tears. “I just want one phone call,” she begged.
The guard, a taller lady with shoulder length auburn hair, glanced back the way she came. She was considering it. Finally, she dug a key from her pocket. “I have a partner down the hall,” she warned. “And beyond that you’d have to make it through a room full of IIA agents and by the time you made it up the elevator there’d be a dozen guns on you, you understand?”
Cecilia nodded. There was no way she would try to escape. “Just one call.”
The guard stuck the key in the lock and turned. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I do feel sorry for you.” She slid the cell door open. “There’s a phone in a side room down the hall.”
The guard waited for Cecilia to walk in front of her. Past a couple more cells, the guard told her to enter the first door on her right. Inside was a small, windowless room with a square table and a chair. A phone was built into the wall. This phone Cecilia recognized, a traditional wired phone with a handset. The guard motioned for her to sit in the chair.
“A hard line phone?” Cecilia said. “I thought all the phones in 2099 were wireless, holographic even.”
“Prisoners get to use this phone,” the guard explained. “Harder for you to be able to steal something and sneak it back in your cell.” The guard raised her hand and started up her own holophone to interface with the phone built into the wall. “Who do you want to contact?”
“Alina Bol, B-O-L,” she said, spelling the name out.
In a few seconds the guard picked up the handset and handed it to Cecilia. “It’s ringing.”
Cecilia steeled herself for what she had to say. The phone rang. Her arms tensed from the anxiety.
“Hello?”
“Alina, this is Cecilia.”
“Where are you?” Alina said. “I was trying to get ahold of you all day yesterday.”
“Alina,” Cecilia said, hesitating. “I... I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” She noted the concern in Alina’s voice; she could tell Cecilia was stressed. “Cecilia, what’s going on?”
“Dravin. He is on his way back,” she warned. “I failed and I couldn’t get to you in time. He’s coming for Motega and the device.”
“No,” Alina said, but it wasn’t a wish that Cecilia was wrong, it was an actual denial of her statement. “No, Dravin is already here. Cecilia, I’ve got to go.”
Cecilia stopped holding back the tears. “Alina, I’m so sorry,” she said between sobs. “Tell Motega, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m so so sorry.”
“Cecilia, I really have to go,” Alina said, rushed now. “I’ll call you back in a bit.” The line went dead. There was no time to tell her that she wouldn’t be able to call her back. If it was as bad as she feared, they may never see each other again.
***
“Hello?” Alina held the holophone to her ear. She stood outside the doorway to the office building that housed their science experiment, the QED, and waited for Motega to arrive. She had left the hotel earlier this morning and Motega said he would join her in a bit, but she wished he would hurry up.
“Alina, this is Cecilia,” she heard from the other end of the line. Cecilia’s voice sounded tinny and distant, but she was thankful she finally called.
“Where are you?” Alina said. “I was trying to get ahold of you all day yesterday.” She had begun to fear the worst, that Cecilia was hurt, in a ditch somewhere. Or worse, that Dravin had killed her, but Alina didn’t know where to turn. Eventually Motega assured her that Cecilia would show up. She just had to be patient.
“Alina,” Cecilia said. She was quiet for a moment. What is it? “I... I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” Alina glanced back at the doorway. It was glass, so she could see inside, but there wasn’t any movement. Alina tapped her foot, wishing again for Motega to come. What has you so spooked, Cecilia? “Cecilia, what’s going on?”
“Dravin. He is on his way back,” Cecilia warned. “I failed and I couldn’t get to you in time. He’s coming for Motega and the device.”
Alina’s heart sunk. “No,” she said, matter-of-factly. Cecilia was wrong; Dravin wasn’t coming. “No, Dravin is already here.” Downstairs, with his new IIA friends, dismantling the device. She saw Motega coming towards her from around the corner. “Cecilia, I’ve got to go.”
“Alina, I’m so sorry,” Cecilia said, audibly crying. She sounded panicked and afraid. “Tell Motega, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m so so sorry.”
“Cecilia, I really have to go,” she said, rushed now. Motega opened the door, nodding to Alina, about to go downstairs. “I’ll call you back in a bit.” She hung up the phone. “Motega, wait.”
“You finally got ahold of Cecilia?” he said. He had no idea what he was walking into.
“Yes,” Alina said. “But that’s not what’s important.”
“Alina, what’s wrong?”
“Dravin is back. He’s in the IIA now, this country’s version of the FBI. They’re downstairs, taking apart the device,” she explained quickly.
“What?” he said, rushing inside, flushed with anger.
“No, wait Motega,” Alina called after him, but he ignored her and raced down the stairs. Alina followed. When she reached the lab the work of the IIA agents had stopped. The machine was in several large pieces in front of her desk. Motega stood in the doorway, facing Dravin, the other two agents back behind her desk.
“What do you want, Dravin?” Motega said. He glanced briefly at his office, which was locked, and refocused on Dravin.
“I want the device,” he said, turning to square off with Motega.
“No, Dravin, what do you really want? You’re not just following orders anymore,” he pointed out. “Why are you here?”
Dravin stepped forward and got right up in Motega’s face. “The QED belongs to me,” he said again.
“This is just old fashion revenge, then?”
“Bah,” Dravin snorted with a wave of his hand. He turned away from Motega.
“Heh, that’s it. I got you kicked out of the University, so you’re trying to get back at me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“It’s pathetic,” Motega said sharply.
“It was mine in the first place,” Dravin said, spinning around and raising his voice. “You took it from me. You ruined my life.”
“I didn’t do that,” Motega countered. “You did.”
“You turned them all against me. You think I wanted to join the FBI? I was a scientist, top of the class. Better than you,” he said, jabbing his finger in Motega’s face.
“You were a cheat,” Motega shot back. “I didn’t turn them against you. I exposed you. I showed them what you are.”
Dravin scoffed again. “If anything you stole my research.”
Motega shook his head. “A hundred years down the road and you don’t give up. You and I both know that’s not true.” Dravin gritted his teeth, but Motega continued, taunting him. “You’re a failure.”
Dravin swung out, classic right hook, but Motega ducked, letting the punch fly wide. He followed through with a jab to the stomach, knocking Dravin back and taking the wind out of him. The two agents with Dravin aimed their weapons at Motega, but Dravin waved them down. “No,” he said. “This is my fight.”
He turned back to Motega, carefully looking to contain his rage and focus on taking Motega down. “You want this?” he said, and Motega smiled. Dravin jabbed at him twice toward the chest. Both times Motega blocked. Then he caught one in the face and staggered back.
As Dravin swung out with his left to Motega’s head again, Motega charged, grabbing Dravin around the chest and pushing him back to the wall. Dravin shifted his feet and turned Motega’s momentum against him, flipping him to the floor. He planted his knees on either side of Motega’s waist, pinning him to the floor, and swung out again at his face.
Motega had nowhere to escape. Twice more Dravin’s fists connected until Motega was finally able to bring his arms up to block, but Dravin wouldn’t stop trying.
“That’s enough,” Alina said, finally stepping in. She grabbed Dravin’s suit collar from behind and jerked him back.
One of the other agents, the man, grabbed Alina’s arms and pulled her off of Dravin. “That’s okay,” Dravin said. “Let her go.” He stood up and took a step back from Motega. “Now get out. We’re done here. The QED is now property of the North American Coalition.”
Motega got up and wiped some blood off his mouth and forehead. As Dravin turned back around, Motega grabbed his suit coat by the lapels and shoved him against the wall. “Don’t think this is over,” he growled.
Dravin bared his teeth. “Let go of me.”
Motega released and Dravin brushed his suit off. Motega turned his back to Dravin and walked out. “Let’s go, Alina.”