The Key to Fear - Kristin Cast Page 0,13
was a busy night, but I’m not stupid.” He rubbed the small diagonal scar behind his right ear and stared blankly at the empty space above Elodie’s head.
Automatically, she rubbed the matching scar behind her own ear. The bump from the implant had faded long ago. A small strip of smooth skin was the only outward evidence of the tech that had been injected under her scalp shortly after birth, same as every other citizen. The implant had grown up with her, grown into her, learned with her. It made her, and everyone else’s, life so much easier. Although Gus’s habit of touching the implant point every time he checked his schedule, mail, or a plethora of other things Elodie was thankful she couldn’t see, was a constant and obnoxious reminder that he wasn’t paying her any attention.
He let out an exasperated breath “I have VR surf lessons scheduled in exactly thirty minutes, so I’m out of here.” He jogged to the elevator and waved his cuff under the reader. It beeped, beeped, and beeped again as Gus flapped his arm under the beam of light.
“You only need to scan it one time,” Elodie muttered.
Gus tapped his foot against the tile. “Unlike some people, I have a life outside of work that I’m ready to get to.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I happen to like my job.” Elodie spun around as the elevator doors swallowed her coworker. “Damn.” She dropped into the hard plastic chair in front of the control panel and quickly scanned the steadily blinking peaks and valleys of the new Patient Ninety-Two’s heartrate monitor before she hefted her backpack onto her lap and unzipped the center pouch.
“I do too have a life outside of work.” The neon lights of the holoscreen glimmered off the slick cover of her nursing textbook. “Actually, I have lots of lives outside of work.”
Blair felt eyes on her as she stood outside of Cath’s office. She pulled her fingers away from her mouth and clenched her teeth. Her adoptive mother had an open-door policy, but it was controlled by the slowest woman Blair had ever had the displeasure of dealing with. And the ninth floor was not a place where Blair wanted to be stuck. The entire space was filled with clear partitions, giving the regular working masses the illusion of having their own office. But a true office wasn’t a glass box, it was a room made of solid walls that deflected unwanted glances. It was a space like the one Blair stood outside of, but, if this septuagenarian had her way, would never be able to enter.
Open this door, you insufferable reject! Blair’s thoughts burned as she offered a polite nod to Cath’s elderly assistant.
The old woman smiled. “She’s on a call, dear. It’ll be just a moment. But it looks like you have a visitor yourself.” She tilted her chin in the direction of the sharp, clicking footsteps closing in on Blair.
Before Blair could make up an excuse to come back later or break down the door herself, the footsteps halted, and a booming voice struck Blair’s back like a battering ram.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Blair Scott. A meeting with your mommy bring you down to the ninth floor? Is baby brother in there too? A little Scott family get together on Key Corp hours?”
Blair’s teeth scraped together as she turned and lowered her gaze to meet the man. “Preston, it is so nice to see you.”
It doesn’t get blacker than that.
Preston’s strong jaw twitched. “That’s Council Leader Darby, Blair. Council. Leader. Darby.” He thrust his coffee mug for emphasis. Brown droplets sloshed onto the pristine floor. “I worked hard for the title.”
Blair tightened the corners of her snarl into a broad smile. If Preston Darby had ever worked for anything, Blair wasn’t quite sure what it had been. All he had to do to attain his title was draw breath and walk around Westfall as a more handsome, clone-like version of his father, who had been Council Leader until his untimely death.
Preston clicked the heels of his shiny black boots and nodded over his shoulder at the glass-encased audience staring wide eyed at the scene unfolding outside Dr. Cath Scott’s door. The list of people who could admonish Blair was a short one, and Preston Darby was near the top. “Wouldn’t want the masses to think the Council has gone soft.”
“Soft, you? Never. I’m sure you’re hard in every way that matters, Council Leader Darby.”
“Well, I, uh …”