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made you suddenly remember that you'd jimmied the lock to get into this
storeroom. One stare reminded you of that piece of gear you pocketed from the
shelf for your private use. In fact, as Mom's eyes swept the room, I saw hands
stray restlessly to fondle stolen goods hidden in clothes.
It was a mother's look.
It was a cop's eye.
People around us were starting to whisper. I could hear snippets of their
consternation. It was time to go. Undercover agents had arrived. The party
should move and lose the losers. I watched some kids slip behind Mom and glide
out the door. Mom paid them no attention. I think she knew the effect her
presence had. I understood now why she needed Mouse and me so desperately. She
would never be able to pass in this crowd. Of course, I wasn't sure I could
either.
"Do you want to go?" Adram asked me. "The party is shifting. I'll give you a
ride."
"A ride?"
"I have a motorcycle."
Going alone with a gorgeous guy I'd just met? To an illegal party? On a
motorcycle?
I was completely sold. The biggest challenge would be getting past Mom.
"I know a back way out," Adram said. He had apparently followed my gaze and my
line of thinking. When I looked up, he was staring at Mom.
"Yeah, okay."
Somehow Mom didn't see us slip out. Mouse had come to my rescue in a way,
calling for Mom to come to him. Seeing her distraction, Adram took my hand and
we ducked behind some crates. He led me through the door that opened into the
shop. The public end of the shop was little more than a showroom. One or two
display models of external hardware sat on pillars set into alcoves. Faint
spotlights shone on them, as though they were jewels to be admired. The rest
of the room was dark, but Adram expertly wove us between cases that held
replicas of equipment or rare attachments. I wanted to stop and admire one
piece, but Adram tugged my hand.
We hurried out into the main pedestrian tunnel, garnering an odd look from a
couple out for a stroll. I didn't ask Adram how he managed to avoid the
cameras or alarms. I didn't want to know. Mom was already going to kill me for
ditching her. The last thing I needed was a trespassing ticket to show up at
Luis's. On all my legal documents, I claimed to live there. It was easier than
writing "illegal kibbutz," and normally Luis didn't mind. He would if he got a
ticket with my name on it.
Once safely in the tunnel, Adram slowed our pace and dropped my hand. Without
his palm wrapped around mine, it suddenly felt cold and abandoned. I had no
pockets to shove my hands into, so I tucked them under my arms.
"Are you cold?"
I nodded. I hadn't dressed for the weather. The pedestrian tunnels were always
warm, a comfortable seventy-two degrees, but it was winter outside. Frost
laced the tunnel walls in places, obscuring our view of the stars.
"When we get to the garage, I have a jacket you can borrow."
"Is it white?"
He smiled. "Of course."
"White leather?"
"Yep."
"I'll be okay," I said, pulling my hands out of my armpits as if to prove my
mettle.
He shook his head at me as if to say, Your loss.
"What is it with you and white anyway?"
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Adram looked ahead of us, but his eyes were unfocused, far away. The tunnel
branched into a T-intersection ahead. Through the plastic I could see the
rounded, illuminated scallops of the Chrysler Building. "It reminds me of
home."
"Heaven?"
Adram glanced away, out the greenish-tinted plastic at the monolithic
skyscrapers. Squares of lights made uneven checked patters in the darkness.
"It's my dream. In the game. What's yours?"
I almost betrayed myself by asking which game. My mouth opened but closed just
in time. Instead, I shrugged.
"You haven't been invited yet, either, have you?"
"No," I admitted.
"How'd you find out about the rave?"
"Mouse," I lied, but it seemed like a good one. Adram nodded, like he
approved. "So," I ventured, "what's the game like? I mean, why are you so into
it?"
"Even though I have to use a VR suit, I like the feeling. The feeling of
fighting again. Flying. Plus, there's the inside/outside thing. Doing good
deeds is fun, too."
"I'd think that part would come naturally," I said, thinking of his angelic
nature.
"Would you?" Something in his tone seemed almost sad.
"Yeah, but I don't know why you need a game to do all that stuff."
"I just do," was all he said.
"Okay."
We walked a little further. I didn't know what to say, so I decided to ask him
more about the game. "Before, you said that the game was inside/outside?
What's that mean?"
He blinked. "Oh. Well, it's like this. The game plays on two levels. Inside
the game and out in the real world. We're playing now, actually. The rave is
part of it."
"You mean, like, you get points for talking to certain people or something?"
Adram gave me a long, calculating look. "Yeah, something like that."
There was something about his tone that I didn't like. I suddenly regretted
wandering off with a complete stranger.
KFAR SHAUL TO RECEIVE MORNINGSTAR MONEY
Agnostic Press (December 2095)
Jerusalem, Israel Kfar Shaul Mental Health Center, Jerusalem's state mental
hospital, is slated to be the newest recipient of monies from the Morningstar
Foundation. The gift of 2.1 million credits (Christendom) will be earmarked
for the hospital's psychiatric unit, sometimes known as the "messiah ward" due
to the large number of patients diagnosed with the Jerusalem. Syndrome.
Hundreds of visitors from all over the world are currently housed at Kfar
Shaul, as it is the main hospital for tourists to Jerusalem. Sixty percent of
the patients in the "messiah ward" are Jews, 32 percent are Christian.
Administrators at the hospital were pleased with the news, announced today
through Monsignor Emmaline McNaughton's headquarters. "Thanks to all our John
the Baptists we get a lot of press," said hospital administrator Trudi Burke.
"But usually it's tongue-in-cheek articles quoting the various messiahs we
have staying here. It's nice to see people taking our work seriously."
Sammael Morningstar made a public statement regarding this gift, saying that
he hoped the administration would use the money to hire more staff and "reward
the hardworking doctors they already have. And to keep up the good work."
The donation was the first nonpolitical use of Morningstar Foundation funds
and the first to go to any institution in the home country of the McNaughton
headquarters. When asked about this, Morningstar replied, "Sometimes you just
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have to do people a good turn."
Chapter 15 Deidre
Everyone scattered when I entered the room. "Way to make a girl feel welcome,"
I muttered to the retreating bodies. Well, I thought, at least it was still
early. Amariah would get a good night's sleep before school tomorrow. I
glanced around the storeroom, searching. Where was that girl?
Most of the room had completely emptied out. I saw three people struggling
near a pallet of shrink-wrapped boxes. One of them wore a leather jacket with
a mouse painted on the back. "Dee." It was Mouse, of course. "Get over here!
Quick!"
He held the wrist of some hapless, wide-eyed girl. A woman with a silvery
dress and a Star of David tattoo held the girl's other arm. They were having a
tug-of-war over her. As I rushed toward them, I saw why Mouse was so agitated.
The girl they struggled over was Olexa; I was sure of it.
I pulled the gun from the waistband of my jeans. I'd had it tucked in back
behind my long coat. "Stay where you are," I told the woman in the sparkly
dress.
"Do it, Jaye," Mouse added. I was only a little surprised that he'd managed to
learn the woman's name already.
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