“A test? Well, if it was, you failed, but with flying colors. I wasn’t expecting a gentleman.”
“Then we’re even. I wasn’t expecting a very beautiful woman in a bathtub.”
I felt the limo slowing, and a chime rang softly. The road had narrowed to a winding one-lane path. Ahead in the distance stood a huge, old, stone château with warmly lit windows, surrounded by well-tended vineyards—acres and acres.
“We arrive at our destination,” she said. “I must ask you to look aside while I dress. But first, would you be a gentleman and kindly dry my back?”
She tossed me a big, fluffy towel, then rose up out of the tub, turning away demurely.
I couldn’t really claim to be a gentleman, but I didn’t mind pretending. And I was definitely right about one thing—the éminence grise was very beautiful, from top to bottom.
“You are peeking, non?”
“I am peeking, oui.”
“Then you pass the test, Hays. You are human. Very much so.”
Chapter 74
AS THE VERY clever and alluring Chantal Dugare and I walked into the imposing dining hall of the château, she clapped her hands sharply to quiet the guests—about two hundred of them, from what I could see, representing many nationalities, standing in groups and talking excitedly. Waiters bustled around with trays, serving food and fine wines. It looked like a classy, but otherwise quite ordinary, party.
Except that these were reputedly the most important leaders in the free world—gathered to try to keep humankind from being destroyed by a powerful race that despised them.
“Attention, s’il vous plaît,” Chantal called out in her husky and cultured voice. “I bring you Monsieur Hays Baker. We are honored that you are here.”
Before she could continue, a stern-looking military man strode forward. He saluted me, then leaned in close to Chantal Dugare and spoke rapidly. Her intelligent eyes widened with concern as she listened. Now what the hell is happening?
“We have just received distressing news that your former boss, Jax Moore, is in Europe right now,” she translated. “This is very dangerous for us. That man is the devil himself! He is a war criminal. A beast among beasts.”
“I must agree with that.” I spoke to Chantal, but also to the crowd. “I know that devil very well. He’s extremely efficient. If he’s here, the final plan is already in motion.”
“We shall see,” said Chantal, who, surprisingly, didn’t seem as alarmed as I was.
Other guests approached me, introducing themselves and thanking me for being here. More than one told me that they’d known my parents and loved them both dearly, and offered sympathy for their senseless deaths.
Chantal was at my side again. “You must eat, Hays. Please. Something tells me we will need much strength soon. We all will.”
I shook my head. “I wish I knew more about the Elite plan. I want to help you in any way I can.”
She patted my arm. “We have ways to make you talk.” She laughed. “What I mean is, there may be things you know that you aren’t conscious of. We have tests. But first—eat!”
She snapped her fingers to summon a passing waiter and took a canapé of crusted bread spread with thick paste. “Pâté de foie gras, with truffles. Heaven on this earth. You must have one, Hays.”
The smell of the food had been filling my nostrils since we first came in; a blend of savory aromas had my stomach on alert.
But there was a small problem. I was used to eating like an Elite, and even thinking about food like this went against my upbringing and training.
“Do you have anything… without calories?” I said.
The people standing nearby stared as if I were a crazy person. Chantal merely laughed.
“In France, you dare to suggest such a thing as fine cuisine without calories? That is an Elitist nightmare we can hardly imagine! Just try this. Open your mouth! I command it!”
She held the pâté to my lips, and I reminded myself that I was, after all, in France. So I opened my mouth—and she popped in the canapé.
What a glory! It practically melted on my tongue with a rich, subtle complexity that positively thrilled my taste buds. I turned to the waiter, ready to devour his entire tray. “Yes, please, I’ll have another.”
Then my hearing caught a faint sound that no one else in the room could catch—a jet, heading toward us at what seemed a low altitude.
Lucy! The idea delighted me more than I would have thought possible.
Chapter 75
BUT THEN MY ears told me that there wasn’t just one jet—there were several of them! Had the war begun already? Here in the French countryside?
I ran to a window just in time to see a wing formation come streaking in, dropping string after string of Elite paratroopers—so many that they completely blotted out the moonlit sky. This was not good; I knew what tough and skillful fighters these were…
Hell, I had been one.
An explosion rocked the château with a tremor that I felt shoot up through my feet and jar my teeth. More bombs came right behind it, shattering windows, raining glass on the guests. Then bursts of gunfire erupted as the French guards met the Elite attack outside on the grounds.
I hurried back to Chantal, who was issuing orders into a handheld phone.
Before I got to her though, the two sets of doors to the dining room flew open.
Elite commandos came charging in, firing assault weapons into the cluster of human leaders. It was a massacre of immense proportions.
Horrifying. Unthinkable. Cruel and unnecessary. None of these people were even armed.
Behind the waves of commandos walked a man and a woman, side by side, smiling as if they had just been announced at a fancy ball.
Jax Moore and Lizbeth!
“Great job, Hays,” Moore called to me. “You led us right to the château—and handed us the kingpin. Or should I say, the queenpin?”
Chantal straightened her back and strode toward me. With a look of hatred like I’d never seen before, she slapped my face, raking her nails across my cheek. “Traitor! Pig! Bastard!” she screamed at the top of her voice.
Still smiling, Lizbeth calmly raised a pistol and shot her through the left breast. Chantal spun away, clutching at her heart, and fell like a beautiful bird torn from the sky.
Book Four
TOYS, TOYS, TOYS FOR ALL GOOD LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS
Chapter 76
HAYS BAKER IS no Elite! He’s human… human… human…
I came awake thrashing, and very confused, as those ridiculous and awful words repeated over and over in my mind.
It took me a couple of seconds to realize that I was actually in my own bed. In my own apartment in New Lake City.
I’m safe. I’m home, aren’t I? What in hell happened to me? I can’t remember anything.
Lizbeth must have heard me—she hurried in to sit beside me, smiling indulgently, and gave me a warm kiss on the lips. The kiss was just what the doctor ordered. The head doctor? I wondered.
“Darling, I’m so glad you’re with us again!” she said. “How do you feel? The doctor said you would be more yourself today.”
“OK, I guess. Except my brain feels like it’s wrapped in a soaking wet towel. That can’t be good, can it? What happened to me, Jinx?”
“You were badly hurt, Hays. Don’t you remember crashing off the roof of that parking garage? You could have died along with the skunk on the motorcycle. They had you healing in a regeneration chamber until last night.”
“That fall with the motorcycle skunk? That’s what I’m recuperating from? How long was I unconscious? I don’t remember much of anything. Sweetheart, I’m really confused. Terribly so.”
“You were in a coma… for about a week. Since then you’ve been in and out of consciousness.” She stroked my sweat-dampened forehead, but then withdrew her hand, wrinkling her nose slightly. “You do need a shower though. Sorry, Hays.”
The queen of neat and clean—that was my Lizb
eth. But in a strange way, I had missed that. At least it meant she cared.
“Now tell me everything. What do you remember?” she asked. “I’ve been on tenterhooks waiting to hear. Start at the beginning, Hays.”
I shook my head, trying to pin down my blurred recollections. The beginning? When was that? Where was that? I had no idea, really.
“The Toyz store in Baronville—those ugly murders,” I finally said. “I caught one of the killers on a motorcycle. We went off the roof of a parking garage, fell several stories, and crashed.
“Then the hospital, and the surgeons putting me under. Putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.”
“Nothing after that?” she said, seeming oddly pleased, maybe because I was joking a little about the past.
“Well”—I managed a laugh, but it was shaky—“I did have this incredible nightmare about the doctors saying I was human.”
“How awful for you, Hays. How bizarre.” She tilted her head in sympathy, and truly seemed more beautiful than ever. “You poor, poor dear. But those kinds of hallucinations can happen with anesthesia, and sometimes they reflect bizarre fears. Do you have bizarre fears, darling?”
“No, I don’t think so. But thank you, Dr. Freud. I feel better already.” I really did. “What happens now? When do I go back to work?”
“Moore wants you to come see him at headquarters as soon as you’re up to it. Meantime, since you’re feeling better…” Lizbeth’s eyes got mischievous and very seductive. I certainly remembered that look—and very fondly. “Do you remember anything from before you went to the Toyz store that night?”
“Like what?”
“Like… that you and I had plans for a little private rendezvous, a little us time, until we were so rudely interrupted by the human miscreants?”
“Oh, yes! I do remember something about that.” I placed my hand on Lizbeth’s leg. I leaned in close and nuzzled her cheek.
“It just so happens that we’re alone right now. Metallico took the girls to a birthday party for one of their friends. So why don’t you go have that shower? I’ll break out a couple of Rapture pills, and we can pick up where we left off. If you’re up to it?”
“Honey, you sure know how to welcome a guy home,” I said.
She kissed me again. Softly at first, then much harder.
“You’re not just any guy, Hays. You’re a hero. You’re my hero. Now go wash up, in all those hard-to-reach places especially. I love you, Hays Baker.”
Chapter 77
MY WELCOME HOME in the arms and breasts and long legs of my beautiful, violet-haired Lizbeth was certainly a memorable occasion. And it was heightened to the maximum by the Rapture we took—a legal drug for Elites only that produced an hour of euphoria and enhanced sensations such as “elevation,” not to mention up to half a dozen orgasms, for each of us, of course.
There is nothing like having orgasm after orgasm, especially with somebody you love. Lizbeth and I climaxed separately, but also jointly, almost perfectly in sync. Rapture is a drug that definitely lives up to its name. Most authors complain that the pleasure is almost impossible to put into words, and I certainly agree with them.
Afterward though, Lizbeth got a bit edgy, certainly in no mood for the tender lounging around that I required. “What’s the matter, Jinx?” I asked her.
“Oh, nothing really. But Hays, I do have to go to a meeting at the Agency. A quick one,” she said, finally jumping out of bed. “I’m sorry, darling. Don’t hate me for it.”
She pulled fresh clothes from drawers and her closet, then hurried off to the shower. She stayed in there a long time.
When she came back to the bedroom, she was dressed in black-on-black business attire, but looked gorgeous as always. She also seemed—I don’t know—brittle. Just a little out of sorts, hopefully not with me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Was it me? It was, wasn’t it? I didn’t perform as—”
“The girls will be home soon,” she said. “I’ve shielded them from—you know—the harsh realities of all this confusion. The coma, your healing process.”
“Of course,” I said. They didn’t need to know how I could have died crashing off that roof with the motorcycle assassin.
“And one more thing, darling. The nightmare you had… about the surgeons saying you were human? Little quirks like that… might keep cropping up for a while. Just recognize them for what they are, and tell me. It will help to talk them out. I’m here for you, Hays.”
Still in the doorway, she blew me a kiss, then she left. “Love you,” she called. “I miss you already.”
I sighed, but then I smiled. I missed her too. My Jinx.
Chapter 78
I GOT OUT of bed, pulled on some clothes, and went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of high-protein coffee. My mind was still fuzzy, but that was understandable after lying unconscious for days. All in all, I was satisfied that I felt as good as I did. I’m thankful that I heal as fast as I do. All Elites do, but I seem particularly fortunate in that respect.
A few minutes later, I heard the front door open, and I rushed to meet my daughters, throwing open my arms, missing them even more than I thought I had.
“Chloe, April!” I cried. “Now… which one of you is which?”
But instead of laughing and hurling themselves into my arms as I’d hoped, they stayed where they were, their little faces subdued. Metallico, the sassiest robot on the planet, stood behind them, as rigid as a tree.
I was absolutely stunned into silence. Something was very wrong here.
“What? No big hug for Daddy?” I finally managed a few words.
That brought Chloe and April to me—reluctantly—for a quick embrace. But then they pulled away. It was as if they barely knew me.
“We missed you,” said April.
“Missed you,” echoed Chloe.
Then the two of them shared a look and hurried off to their room and all their books and toys.
I turned to Metallico. “What’s going on?” I said. “What am I missing here?”
“Going on, sir?” he replied with the formality of a butler in a palace, someone else’s palace. “I don’t know what you mean. No idea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to.” The huffy robot marched stiffly past me toward the kitchen.
Sir? Metallico had never called me that before. He’d always treated me like an equal—at best.
So I followed Chloe and April to their room. I found them playing with Jessica and Jacob dolls. Lizbeth must have given in and bought them while I was gone. I just hoped they weren’t the adult versions. Even these dolls looked at me funnily.
“Are you mad at Daddy?” I asked. “Did I do something I’m not aware of?”
They shook their heads, but neither girl spoke a word to me. Nor did the thoroughly creepy dolls.
“So what’s the matter with you two gremlins? You don’t seem glad to see me.”
Chloe, my four-year-old, squirmed uncomfortably. “Mommy said something really bad happened to you. She said—”
“She said we’re not supposed to talk about it,” her older sister—age six—interrupted. “We’re just glad you’re all right, Daddy. We feel nothing but love and admiration for you. You’re a hero.”
“You’re a hero!” mimicked Jessica and Jacob.
Lizbeth had probably been worked up when she explained things to our daughters, and they’d sensed her tension more than they’d heard what she actually said. Now they were just afraid. Temporarily, I hoped.
Or maybe all this strange behavior was just in my own mind—part of the anesthesia hangover.
“Something bad did happen to me. An accident,” I told the girls. “But it’s all over, and I’m fine. What do you want to do now? How about if I whip us up some”—I paused, frowning—“banana splits.” What I’d started to say was no-cal banana splits. Where had that odd thought come from? Of course the treats would be no-cal. All Elite food was. Only human food was…
“Then
we could play 3-D Monopoly,” I said. “Or whatever you want. We can even play with your dolls.” Creepy critters that they are.
“I’d like to play with Daddy,” said Jessica with a leer. “Play with me, Daddy?”
Then Metallico came into the room with a silent, gliding walk that I’d never seen before. It was downright eerie, actually.
“The girls have had a busy day,” he said. “My instructions from Lizbeth are to see to it that they have their baths, then their homework, and some much needed rest.”
I didn’t like any of this, but I accepted that my judgment was probably shaky. I decided to let it go. “All right then—brush and flush!” I said to the girls.
“But first, one more hug. For good luck, for good measure, and just for fun!”
Slowly, Chloe and April came to me and granted their dad a hug. But then April said, “Good luck, Daddy,” and it sounded like she really meant it, like she knew I needed some luck.
“Good luck, Daddy!” chimed in Jacob and Jessica.
I wandered around the apartment after I left the girls, trying to get interested in the adult simulators and other toys of my own. But I was restless, I guess. I’d been cooped up inside long enough, hadn’t I? Maybe that was the problem.
A good, hard run would be just what I needed to get back to normal, to be Hays Baker once again.
Chapter 79
WHEN LIZBETH ARRIVED at the sparkling glass palace known as Agency Headquarters, the atmosphere was more celebration than anything resembling regular police business. In fact, two dozen of the Elite government’s highest-ranking officials were gathered in the main briefing room, sipping wine and cocktails. The conversations were charged with giddy anticipation of 7-4 Day.
Jax Moore met her as she came in and took her aside. “What’s the update on Hays?” Moore asked quietly as he held a trademark cigar aloft.
“Exactly what we want it to be, Jax: he thinks everything’s the same as always. He believes his hospitalization and healing followed his fall with that skunk motorcycle rider. He has no memory whatsoever of Europe. There was a blurred memory of voices overheard saying he was human, but I got him settled down.”