Disclaimer in first part.
Dreams Of The Shattered World: Part Two
Chapter Two
May, 2002
"The President announced today that peace talks with the Pan-European Alliance have stalled despite continued attempts by Japan to resolve the conflict between the economic superpowers. Peace talks are expected to resume in three days, when both the United Americas and Pan-Europe will bring revised plans to the conference table Concessions expected-"
"Off," I ordered the TV, and the news program blinked out. Carrying my coffee mug, I wandered over to my 'let window and gazed out at my hometown, Minneapolis. Though my 'let was tiny, the view alone had cost a hefty sum. I would never have been able to afford these luxuries on my own salary. I shrugged, dismissing the faint bitterness that thought brought up.
Slumped comfortably in an easy chair, I considered the flashing "message" light on my Interface unit. Sighing, I tapped in my authorization code on its miniaturized keyboard and read the words scrolling up onto its palm-sized screen.
The first message was from Dr. Essex. "Dr. Winston: Gov't has agreed to pay for neural net exper. Subjects avail. asap. Essex." I hummed tunelessly, congratulating myself on my cleverness. My own project. Sure, Dr. Essex was still the head of the Inheritor Project, but I was gaining on him. Through hard work and natural talent, I was making a name for myself in the cybernetics field. If only other areas of my life were going as well.
"Dominique: 7:30 tomorrow night. I'll pick you up. Entertaining clients- Warren."
"Lovely," I grumbled. Sometimes my husband could be damned arrogant.
The next message grabbed my complete attention. "Dom: Haven't seen you since that rainy night we spent together. We must have stayed up till dawn. Meet me at the Castle at 3 and we'll talk about old times. Nathan Gray."
It was Silver. It had to be.
***
Of course I went. Twice, in fact, once at 3 pm, when I asked the waiter if he knew whether Nathan Gray had been in and very obviously grew more and more impatient as I waited for an hour for "Nathan" to show up, and again at 3 am. After I left the Castle Lounge in the afternoon, I visited different places around that area of the city, taking convoluted routes that I hoped would throw anyone following me. The whole charade was for the benefit of any government spies, though I doubted I rated one. Silver had advised caution in his letter, by mentioning the night he'd been caught running away, and I wasn't about to be careless with his life. If the government found him, they'd kill him.
It had only been two years since he had escaped for the second time. I had seen him once a year after that when he audaciously set up a protest outside of the National Genetic Research Center, but that had only been a glimpse. I had changed a lot since then. I wondered if he would notice. Had he changed? What had two years on the run done to him? Did he hate me? Did he want my help? Why had he contacted me?
At three in the morning, I chose a small table in a dark corner of the Castle Lounge. The place was well supplied with dark corners; it seemed to be the meeting place of choice for clandestine lovers and other people with no wish to be seen together. The subdued hum of conversation was suddenly punctured by the raised voice of a woman.
I turned to look at the arguers. A well-dressed woman was shouting at a man who held a camera. Her escort seemed more interested in discreetly getting out of the lounge than in avenging his date's honor. There was quick movement at the corner of my vision, and I turned back to my own table to find that Silver had slipped in while everyone's attention was distracted.
We stared at each other for a brief, intense interval. Silver released his breath explosively and said, 'Well, Dom, you look good. I'd almost forgotten."
"You're looking well, too." Really, he looked much better than that, incredible actually. I was intensely aware of his piercing gray eyes, his silvery hair, the sheer width of his shoulders.
An awkward silence fell.
"How have you been?"
"Marvelous," he said with sarcasm. "Dom, I've been running for two years, how do you _think_ I've been?"
"Well, I was just hoping that it hadn't been too awful," I muttered, and then cursed my own stupidity.
"I've been fine."
Another uncomfortable pause. We stared at each other like strangers. I wondered what was going on behind his pewter eyes.
"You're still working at the Center." He said it without emotion, but it sounded like an accusation.
"I have to live."
"Isn't your rich husband able to support you in the style you deserve? You need two incomes to stay afloat? Poor Dom."
"You don't know anything about it, Silver, so just shut up. I have a right to my own career."
"And what are their rights? You seem to know so much about rights, Dom, so why don't you explain this to me? I'm so confused, you see- I thought slavery was abolished in 1865."
"Why did you want to see me if all you're going to do is yell at me?"
Silver laughed without humor. "Still the same old Dom, always ducking the question. One rule for me and another for you."
"I'm leaving. Have a nice life, Silver-"
"No, please don't leave. Dom, I'm sorry. I just- I'm sorry. Sit down, please. Listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"You're right, it isn't my business where you work. You understand, though, why it bothers me."
"Yeah. What a pair we are."
"Dr. Frankenstein and her monster." We clinked our glasses together, laughing. Silver sobered and asked, "Are you happy, Dom?"
"That's why you wanted to see me? To ask if I'm happy?"
"Are you?"
"Of course I'm happy. Warren is wonderful to me. I'm advancing in my career, I have a luxurious home. I'm perfectly happy." His silver eyes, like the reflection of the sky on a slow river, seemed to hide immense depths beneath the bright surface. I looked into them and was pulled in, mesmerized by the surfaces behind surfaces behind surfaces. Breaking the connection, I laughed nervously and played with my napkin. "Well, things aren't perfect."
"Is Worthington good to you?"
"Yes, he's very considerate. I mean- well, he is when it's convenient for him. I- I'm not really happy at all, Silver. I don't know what's wrong with me. My career is advancing, I've got a generous husband who provides me with a luxurious life, and yet I feel..."
"Yes?"
"I don't know..."
"Unfulfilled?" I nodded. "It's not a crime to be unhappy. That you are being made unhappy-that is a crime."
" Silver- why did you want to see me? Really?"
"I missed you."
Later, we left, and got a suite at a moderately expensive hotel. By tacit agreement, we didn't mention any of the problems that lay like ragged chasms between us. We didn't talk much at all. I left in the early morning while he was still sleeping.
***
"Where were you last night? I called several times and you weren't home," Warren asked quietly as we left the restaurant behind his clients. It was amazing, I thought, how much business was done over French food rather than in boardrooms.
The fabric of his dinner jacket had the exciting roughness of raw silk and he smelled sexy, a blend of coffee, cognac, and expensive cologne. I rubbed my hand on his sleeve and answered nonchalantly, "I was out, darling. If you wanted to see me, why didn't you say so on your message? I would have stayed in if I'd known." I brushed lightly against his side in a movement calculated to get his mind off of difficult questions. It worked; I saw a familiar expression appear in his eyes. "Later, darling," I murmured as we exited the lobby.
The night was warm, so we'd decided to walk the seven blocks to the orchestra. Though the street was nearly as bright as day, the city always felt different at night. What was commonplace and grimy in the sunlight was filled with a mysterious glamour after sunset. Neon lights flashed and holographic images beckoned. A constant stream of cars, bikes, pedestrians, flowed in a sparkling river past us to the left and away. Drunk on the atmosphere, I threw back my head and laughed breathlessly.
Shots rang out. I jerked my head to the left and saw several people running against the traffic in our direction.
"What's going on?" I demanded as Warren hustled our little group back into the shelter of a building's awning.
"Stay here with those two while I find out."
He stepped out where more people were running against the traffic on the one-way street. People were shouting and yelling. I saw Warren grab a man by the arm and say something. The man replied and jerked away, running again. Warren made his way back to us.
"A riot started downtown. It's spreading this way. He said people are shooting. It's a madhouse."
"What are we going to do?" It was getting a lot louder. I couldn't believe what was happening. There had been riots in New York and Mexico City, but it all seemed so remote from the Midwest. Nothing like that could happen in Minneapolis.
Mr. Shaw and Ms. Frost seemed appalled by the situation. I couldn't blame them. Here they were, in danger of their lives, on a business trip. I smiled apologetically at them. "I'm so sorry."
Emma Frost shrugged philosophically. "It happens," she replied.
"There's an alley one building down," Warren said. "We won't be safe for long in this alcove. We've got to make a break for it before it's too late. Stay together. On the count of three... One, two, three!"
We ran. I felt the breath tearing in my throat. It was awkward running in high heels. One of them caught in a crack and I went down, slamming into the pavement. Emma Frost had been behind me. She stopped and knelt beside me. "Anything broken?"
"No, I don't think so." She helped me up and we started running again. Mr. Shaw and Warren were about fifteen feet ahead of us.
I heard a sharp rat-a-tat and both men jerked suddenly, horribly puppet-like, and fell.
"Warren!" I screamed.
"Dominique, this way!" Emma shouted. She grabbed my arm and scrambled for the shelter of a parked van. We huddled under it as machine gun fire burst out again. "Warren," I moaned.
"He's probably dead. I'm sorry." The air was thick with shouting and gunfire. A man fell to the ground next to the van with half his chest a bloody mess. Horrors filled the night around us. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried not to listen.
Emma put her arms around me, and we huddled together as around us the world went mad.
***
"Ms. Winston? Dominique, please wake up. "
"Huh?" I blinked swollen eyes, wondering why I was lying under a car. Then it all came back in a rush. "Is Warren alive?"
"I'm afraid not," she said with kindness.
I nodded and blinked back moisture. "Is it safe out there?"
"It's been quiet for a few hours."
I crawled out from under the van and leaned shakily against it, shocked by the destruction revealed by the morning light. Broken glass was everywhere. Bodies lay sprawled on the pavement. Briskly, I wiped the tears off my cheeks and tried to order my thoughts. "Have you heard anything about the situation?"
"Nobody knows anything, really. I saw a police hovercar go by, but they wouldn't stop. I don't blame them." The night before, Emma's intelligence and humor had made what could have been a boring business dinner enjoyable. Now I saw that her quiet inner strength would be invaluable in a crisis situation.
"We're about fifteen blocks from my apartment. You're welcome to stay as my guest for as long as you wish, Emma."
"Thank you. Hopefully that shouldn't be an issue. My corporation will be able to provide transportation out of the city."
"Still, if you need to, the offer stands." I took a deep breath. "Okay, let's get moving before people start shooting again."
back to Alex Sisterwolf's stories | Dayspring archive | comicfic.net