Two Can Play (Entangled Ignite) Page 7

  The explosive barrels were a good start, it seemed, based on the Lifers who talked to Gage as he moved through the arena on his own. Rena had stopped to talk to friends, but her eyes kept being drawn to wherever he stood in the Lounge. Girls were hitting on him right and left.

  She walked up just as one walked away. Gage looked dazed. “So many sex points offers, so little time?” she joked, feeling a peculiar jealousy. She was his Mentor, not his girlfriend. Jeez.

  “She heard me talking up Girl Power yesterday.” He nodded at the girl who’d turned back to wiggle her fingers at him. Gage returned the gesture. Rena rolled her eyes.

  “That’s what you were doing all weekend on shift? Talking up Girl Power? Milo said you talked a lot, dragged Lifers off task.”

  “I’m a friendly guy.” The caramel flecks in his eyes dissolved into the brown. He was hiding from her.

  “Less talk, more work, okay?”

  “Got it. Head down, do my job.” He gave her a jokey salute. What was the deal? The guy was smart, skilled at EverLife, a possible equipment tech, and he’d be a great Dome fighter, but he’d called players thumb-bangers, had made that crack about the K men being slaves, and didn’t trust Nigel and Naomi nearly enough. Now this Mr. Friendly bit. The guy was…slippery and she didn’t like it—or the way he made her feel when she got close to him.

  Rena checked her watch. “Damn. It’s time for Group.”

  “Group?”

  “Yeah. In the Dome. We hash out arguments or hurt feelings and crap. It’s supposed to ease the tension of living and working together.”

  “Not your thing?”

  “Not really.” She sighed. “Maya says it’s like yoga—the postures you hate are the ones you need most.”

  “Who’s Maya?”

  “She was a shrink in the Dead World, but here she advises Nigel and Naomi and looks after all of us.”

  “You have a psychiatrist on staff? That’s impressive.”

  “We have a clinic, too, for health checks and whatnot.”

  “It’s here? On the property?”

  “Couple miles away. NiGo took over one of the Doc in a Box clinics. We go there for physicals and blood tests.”

  “Testing for drugs, right?”

  “And overall health. Why? Are drugs a problem for you?” She stopped and faced him, ready to pin him down.

  “Am I a junkie or a drunk? No, Rena.” He laughed. “Just nailing down the rules.”

  “The only rules we have are for safety and sanity. The Life is about goals and guidelines and suggested behaviors, not rules and regs. We’re figuring out the best way to live, leaning on Nigel and Naomi’s wisdom and advice. It’s not boot camp or boarding school.”

  “I know that.”

  “The Lounge is drug-free because we want it to be healthy and safe for everyone. Some Lifers are in recovery. As far as liquor goes, Lifers can drink in the Lounge in their free time, but no booze in Quarters.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” He shrugged.

  “Group is for Lifers with Quarters, so if you want to skip it, you can.”

  “I’d like to check it out. See if I hate it, too. How long does it take?”

  “It varies. First we bubble in a form about our moods over the last week, our appetite, did we sleep okay, if we had dark thoughts, and our energy levels. Then it’s the discussion. If it goes smoothly, we’re done in an hour.”

  “I’m just asking questions, Rena. I don’t mean to piss you off.” He gave her a smile clearly meant to charm her jackboots off.

  She resisted, moving forward.

  The silence stretched. “So, what did you do before you found the Life?” he asked.

  “Minimum-wage jobs. Nothing for too long.” The jobs were mindless or pointless. Toward the end, alcohol got her fired. “Then Maya recruited me.”

  The black night of her twenty-first birthday, Rena talked a mope from the store she’d been fired from into taking her to the Lounge, since she was broke. Inside, she celebrated being legal with a V-Trique, then another and another and so on.

  Afterward, back in the car, the guy wanted a blow job and she was in no mood. It was her birthday, dammit. He tried to force her, so she bloodied his nose and left him crying like a baby behind the wheel.

  Lunging into the summer night, she’d felt as empty and dark as the warehouses in the industrial park nearby. Why was she dragging her ass through every damn day for nothing and no one? She wanted out. Now.

  The eighteen-wheeler whipping toward her on the dark street would make it easy. She closed her eyes, ready to step out, like Lara off a cliff. She’d be no more than a fly on the grill to the driver high in his cab, and it would all be over, no more looking for something or someone or a way to think or be.

  But someone yanked her back to the sidewalk. Maya or a Watcher with her? Rena was fuzzy on the details.

  “What about you?” she asked. “What were you doing before this?”

  “Not much. Odd jobs. I was a car mechanic. Did computer tech work. Sales. Different cities.” He shrugged. “I like to move around.”

  “Where do you live now?

  “North a ways. I own an Airstream on some acres of desert in the hills near New River.”

  “So you own property? You should put your place up for sale now to save time. One guy had to wait three months for Quarters because of a hold on his house.”

  “You have to cash out first? No Quarters until then?”

  “That’s how it works.” She stopped to block his path. “Is that a problem?”

  “No. If that’s the rule—uh, I mean guideline—I’ll do it. Sure. Whatever.”

  “But you don’t want to, do you?”

  He studied her. “It’s just…doesn’t it bother you? Don’t you feel owned?”

  “It’s the Deads who are owned. They belong to their mortgages, their credit cards, and their paychecks. They get cheated and robbed every day.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  “We act out of love, not obligation. We give to support the Life and to help each other. In return, NiGo takes care of us. Out of love. We get back far more than we give. Far more. What’s your plot of land compared to this?” She waved at the arena and all the Lifers busy and laughing.

  “Yeah. Sure. I get it.”

  No, he didn’t. Damn that Skippy. “If you have doubts, Gage, there’s the door.” She pointed. “Thousands of gamers would die for your spot. If you don’t love it, leave now.” Anger stabbed her. Cassie was about to be kicked onto the cold streets, while this guy was whining about a stupid trailer in the desert.

  “Easy,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Change is hard for guys. We wouldn’t move off the couch if we didn’t have to take a leak. I like my land. It’s quiet and beautiful and private.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Look, Rena, I know I’ve pissed you off with my questions, but you seem damned eager to get rid of me. What’s the deal? Is it the sex? Because that’s over, no problem. I won’t even joke about it if that bugs you.”

  “It’s not the sex. That’s stupid.” But it had freaked her out. And she was still getting pings and zings and surges. Was that why she’d jumped on him?

  “I’m happy to sell. I ask questions because I want answers. I’m curious.”

  “You’re more than curious. You’re critical and suspicious. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but if it’s not here, you should leave now.”

  “Trust me, Rena. What I’m looking for is right here.” His jaw tightened and caramel flooded his dark pupils, turning his eyes to gold.

  He meant what he’d said, but that didn’t make her feel one bit better.

  Chapter Five

  It had been a relief to say one honest thing to Rena, Gage thought as he followed her toward the Dome. Lounge Life did have what he was looking for—his sister—and he wasn’t leaving until he found her and dragged her out of the place, if that’s what it took.

  The crowd shuffling to
ward the therapy session—so bizarre—was moving too slowly for Rena, it seemed, because she gave an ear-splitting whistle and motioned folks forward. Beth could whistle that way, too. “I want to get this over with,” she muttered to him. He shared her distaste for emotional drama. No sniveling. Suck it up and move on. That was his theory.

  At the entrance, Rena introduced him to Maya Wozinsky, a petite, dark-haired woman in her midthirties, with fierce eyes that didn’t miss a twitch. He’d be wise to fly under her radar, he could tell.

  “You are lucky to have Rena as your Mentor,” Maya said, stripping him to the brain stem with her gaze. “She’s one of our stars.” Her glance at Rena held possessive affection with a creepy edge to it. Rena seemed to adore the woman.

  “She’s taught me a lot already,” he said.

  “And you’re joining us for Group, too? That’s admirable.”

  “I told him he didn’t have to,” Rena said. “But he wants to come.”

  Maya laughed. “Rena’s not fond of sharing, but most find the process worthwhile.” She handed Rena a bubble sheet labeled “Health Center” over the NiGo logo of a zigzag of lightning splitting a brain.

  Free health care was an impressive employee benefit. On the other hand, healthy young people had few medical needs. It was good PR and no doubt saved money on drug tests. He didn’t buy altruism as “the NiGo Way,” no matter how many charter schools they founded or Korean kids they adopted.

  Gage followed Rena toward two empty seats, noticing that Maya had begun to troll the room, head shifting side to side like a shark after chum. He was about to sit down when he saw that the bartender was motioning him out.

  “We’re off-loading Electrique,” Baker said, looking up at him. “The driver needs a helper to bring back another truckload. You up for the job?”

  “However I can help.” He’d been curious about Group and wanted to scope out which Lifers he had yet to talk to, but duty called, so he went.

  Gage and the driver, a guy named Nardo, emptied a panel truck of Electrique, taking the freight elevator to the basement where a security guard directed the dollies. Gage pointed his last load toward the nearly empty left side of the storeroom until the guy stopped him, checked the crates, then motioned him to the jam-packed right side. What was the difference? Maybe expiration dates?

  When they finished, Gage climbed into the passenger seat. “The factory far?” he asked Nardo, hoping to get back in time to talk to more people. His EverLife Quest maneuver had people interested in him and the girls loved when he brought up Rena’s project. So far, no one knew Beth by any of the nicknames he’d remembered, but there were lots of Lifers he hadn’t yet met.

  “Twenty minutes, more or less. Depends on traffic.” The guy paused, glanced at him. “So you’re new?”

  “Yeah. Just started.”

  “Huh.” He paused. “Tell me something…is it true they have orgies?”

  Gage laughed. “Not that I’ve heard so far.” Hell, it could be one of the Quests he hadn’t yet seen. “What do you think of the place, anyway?”

  “Whatever floats your boat.” Nardo shrugged. “It’s like the Army, I guess. You get your job, your housing, and built-in buddies. Plus, these guys get to game. Screamin’ deal if that’s your gig.”

  “I guess so.” If you didn’t mind getting robbed of every penny and your free will. They seemed happy enough. Some had been sad cases in the outside world. Cults had a certain appeal. He remembered a story about a guy in an Oregon commune who’d lost a lifetime of savings to the group’s Ponzi scheme of selling herbal remedies. He didn’t give a shit that he’d been conned. He’d loved the sing-alongs, working together, the friendships. That had been enough for him. Gage didn’t get it, but then he didn’t get a lot about human behavior.

  “The big game in there is EverLife, right?” Nardo asked. “Me, I like the sports games mostly. Maybe some Grand Theft Auto with my homies.”

  “Different strokes.” As a kid, games let Gage escape the mess at home and, more importantly, distracted Beth, who let their mother’s fury and despair hit too deep. Beth didn’t have his ability to find the eye of the storm and wait out the worst of it. She could get absorbed in gaming, though, and forget everything else. She was famous for sleepless marathons when she got a new game, which made her a natural-born Lifer, he guessed.

  EverLife was a great game, sure—an immersive environment, with an ease of play that hooked casual players and enough challenge to addict the hard-cores. It was a worthy use of a few bored hours, but it was a game, not a way of life.

  “I’ll say one thing for the place,” Nardo said, easing onto the freeway. “That drink? People are crazy for it. Why don’t they sell it in stores?”

  “It’s a draw to the Lounge maybe. Like free drinks in Vegas casinos. Makes the customers spend more.”

  “Yeah. That’s cool. You think they’ll keep it that way a while?”

  “No idea.” He figured the guy was worried about his job. “How often do you deliver for them?”

  “Whenever they need me. These days I take all the jobs I can get.” He paused. “Got a baby on the way.” He tried to sound annoyed, but a smile traced his lips.

  “Your first?”

  He gave a short laugh. “That’s why we got hitched—give it a name, yo.” He shook his head as if with regret, but he was clearly proud.

  The plant was a nondescript building near the airport and they worked fast. Gage was closing up the truck when the plant manager called to him. He had a question for Nardo about the shipping invoice.

  Nardo had gone for a smoke, so Gage went after him. Rounding the corner, he spotted him behind some trees talking to a guy by a pickup, who was covering a load with tarp. The canvas flapped and Gage saw Electrique cartons. So Nardo was bootlegging E. Gage tried to back away before he got spotted, but when Nardo joined him in the truck, the silence was way too loud.

  After a while, Nardo broke it. “What you saw back there, homes—”

  Gage cut him off. “Forget it. Babies cost.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded relieved. A few more miles passed before he spoke again. “I could cut you in on that load. For keeping it on the DL.”

  “Forget it. Name your kid after me. Nah. Could be a girl. Your first hamster, how’s that?”

  “Sure. Yeah.” Nardo grinned. “I owe you.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll need a favor.”

  “Say the word, homes.” Nardo gave him his cell number and Gage wished him good luck with fatherhood.

  Back in the Lounge, Gage circulated among Lifers asking about Beth as unobtrusively as he could. With no name and no photo, he wasn’t surprised to strike out. And Rena was right about the sex-point offers. They kept coming.

  In spare moments, he caught Rena in action. As Maya said, Rena was a star in more ways than her avatar name. Everywhere she went Lifers lit up at the sight of her. The girls worshipped her and the guys wanted to screw her brains out. Gage watched Rena show two Watchers her brochure. The two horndogs pretended to listen in so they could ogle her up close. Caught up in her cause, Rena was oblivious. He wanted to go over there and make the guys walk crooked for her. Her friend Cassie had called her naive for believing the Korean programmers were honored to work for NiGo instead of being its slaves. When it came to the Life, Rena was naive. She wanted so badly to trust.

  The afternoon passed into evening with no news of Beth.

  It was after eleven and Gage was nursing a beer at the bar in Blood Electric. He’d done all he could for one day and stood to find Rena and say good night.

  He spotted Cassie in a far booth. He’d kept an eye out for her all day, since she worked in accounting and might know about Beth’s money, but she’d seemed to have disappeared. Here she was. Gage grabbed the dregs of his beer and headed over, sliding onto the bench across from her.

  “Hey there, you,” Cassie said, her booze-droopy eyes lifted to meet his. She tapped an empty V-Trique glass. “Order me one, but pretend it’s
for you. Baker cut me off.”

  Gage ordered her a virgin and Baker nodded his approval of the request. “Watch her,” he said. “She’s got troubles.” He seemed as worried as Rena.

  Back at the table, Cassie took a sip of the drink, then made a face. “There’s not one drop of vodka in this. Take it back.”

  “You’ve got plenty cruising your bloodstream. Coast a while.”

  “You’ve been listening to Rena, haven’t you?”

  “You two are close?”

  “Used to be.” She looked down at the table.

  “What happened?”

  She glanced at him. “Who knows? Whatever.” She shook her head as if puzzled and saddened by that fact.

  “You seemed pissed at NiGo earlier. Why is that?”

  “What are you, Professor Quiz Me?”

  “Just curious.” He toyed with the condensation on his stein.

  “Curiosity kills. Ask any cat.” She rested her chin on her fists and sighed.

  “You like working with numbers?” he tried.

  “You can skip the bullshit. I’ll take you up for the points. You don’t have to ask my sign or tell me you like my spots.” She winked, crinkling the tattooed leopard spots around her eye.

  He laughed. “That’s not it. I’m looking for a friend of mine. I knew her as Beth, but she changed her name a lot. Liza, Betsy, Eliza, El—” Cassie bumped her glass, and Gage caught it. “—lie.”

  “L.E.? The initials? That’s the guy who had my room before me. Drew an EverLife mural on my wall and signed it. L.E. Wrote all over the place in code, too.”

  Gage’s heart beat so hard his ribs felt bruised. Ellie, but as initials—L.E. That sounded like a version of her name Beth might go for. He hadn’t asked many about Ellie as a possible name, since she hadn’t used that since middle school. “My friend was an artist. You said there was code?” Gage had worked one out to amuse Beth when she was little. It was based on a puzzle he’d found in a tattered kiddie magazine in a hospital when they were waiting on their mother. After that, Beth used it whenever she got scared or worried. It kept her mind occupied.