“No, no.” Geraki laughed. “You’ll always be my favorite. Anyway. Officially, I have two messages for you.”
“From who?”
“Who do you think?”
Justin shook his head. “I honestly have no idea.”
From our master, said Magnus.
I don’t suppose you’ll tell me his name yet? asked Justin. Naturally, they didn’t. They never did.
“No matter,” said Geraki. He sat up in the chair, putting his feet on the floor. “The first message: You awarded the golden apple but haven’t upheld your share of the bargain.”
He’s right, said Horatio.
We’ve been over this, Justin retorted, his eyes darting briefly to Mae. I don’t have to fulfill any bargain. I haven’t technically accepted the compensation.
“Nor have you submitted to training,” added Geraki. “You crave knowledge. Once you embrace your role as a student, many of your questions will be answered.”
Justin crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, forcing Mae to shift slightly so that she still kept her body angled between him and Geraki. Justin kept his face as blank as he could, refusing to show that the words meant anything. “You know what? I did learn something in Panama. I’ve learned just how much I missed your incomprehensible rambling.”
Geraki held up two fingers. “My other message is to yield your stars and flowers and accept the clever compromise.”
No, said Magnus swiftly.
You don’t even know what the clever compromise is yet, said Horatio. It was another of those unusual arguments between them.
It doesn’t matter. We know what the stars and flowers are. Yielding her is out of the question.
Not if it’s an order from the boss, said Horatio.
If we lose her, then the bargain is void, argued Magnus.
Geraki was still speaking about the clever compromise. “You may not like it at first, but the consequences will be worthwhile. It may also knock some sense into you.”
If that’s true, said Horatio, then we certainly shouldn’t discount it. We must trust in our master.
“Anything else?” asked Justin, faking a yawn. “Because I’m ready to call it a night. And I’m sure you’re ready to return to your cell.”
“It’s actually a very nice cell. And we both know I won’t be staying there for long. You’re lucky I think so well of you, or else I might have filed for unlawful harassment.”
“You’ll be charged with unlawful harassment if you come near me, my family, or my home again.” It was one of the things he’d worked in his call with Internal Security: a restraining order.
Geraki shook his head, turning absolutely serious—or, well, most likely pretending to be serious. He was one of the more difficult people for Justin to read.
“Dr. March, if you believe nothing else, then believe me when I say I hold your loved ones as dear as my own. You’re practically a brother to me, and I want to help you. If I can ever do you a favor, you need only ask.”
Justin held back from an eye roll. “I’ve done fine without a brother, thanks.” As he spoke, a strange thought occurred to him. “Unless you know what happened to Callista Xie or Nadia Menari.”
Geraki’s face was guileless. “Why would I know anything about them? Aren’t they illicit practitioners?”
Justin felt his pulse quicken. Although he still favored the idea of a vengeful geneticist over an unholy cult, he was in no position to rule out the latter, especially with time ticking down. He’d mourned losing Callista as a link to the underground religions, but here was another link, right before his eyes—one claiming to be cooperative.
“You know about any illicit practitioners murdering patricians?”
Geraki said nothing. He was very good at keeping his expression neutral, but there was the faintest glimmer of surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that question. Well. Justin supposed he should be relieved that Geraki’s madness didn’t extend to gruesome murders. At least not these gruesome murders. Still, it would’ve been handy if his new “brother” could’ve delivered an easy answer to all of this.
Justin straightened up and said to Mae, “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” said Geraki. He studied Justin for several more heavy seconds. “I don’t know where Callista and Nadia are. They cut themselves off from everyone. I do know, however, that they talked a lot about enlightening those who still believed. Nadia especially talked about returning to the devout. She seemed to have some place in mind.”
“That you don’t know,” said Justin, again scrutinizing Geraki for the truth. Yet, one word had stood out: “returning.”
Geraki smiled. “I don’t really know any of this. It’s all speculation, seeing as I have nothing to do with such groups.”
“Of course.” Justin turned to Mae again. “Now we’re going.”
She wouldn’t move from her position until Justin was out of the room. A few moments later, she joined him out in the hall, and as the door closed, Justin saw Geraki still smiling. “Don’t forget what I said, Dr. March.”
Mae didn’t relax until they were on the subway, and although she tried to hide it, her hands shook. She’d perceived Geraki as enough of a threat to wind up into fight-or-flight mode.
“You weren’t kidding about him,” she said. “You think he’ll break the restraining order?”
Justin thought about it for several seconds. “No, actually. I don’t know why I think that. Just a gut instinct.”
“Does your gut have any insight about the rest of what he said? Does he know something about the murders?”
“No. That caught him off guard, and it showed. He was telling us all he knew about where Callista and Nadia went.” Justin leaned his head against the subway’s window. “Someplace where people still believe. Where would that be?”
“Nowhere in the RUNA,” said Mae.
Justin was in the middle of yawning as she spoke, and her words jolted him awake. He took out his ego and told it, “Bring up Nadia Menari’s bio.” When it appeared, it took him only a second to find what he needed. Exhaling, he put the ego away and settled back into the seat.
“What is it?” asked Mae.
“I think my ‘brother’ may have come through for us after all.”
CHAPTER 18
A CHURCH WITHOUT A GOD
As Tessa’s first week of school went on, she surprised herself with how quickly she adapted to the schedule and technology, even though she still had trouble with some of the content. When she’d told Cynthia about the Spanish class, Cynthia had been furious and marched into the principal’s office for an unannounced meeting. Tessa wasn’t entirely sure what was said, but afterward, she’d been offered a choice between several artistic electives. She’d ended up choosing one on video and film. The constant media on the stream and the almost exhibitionist style of this society continued to fascinate her, especially after living in such a cloistered way.
The impact of Poppy’s friendship soon became apparent. Her endorsement of Tessa provided access to a larger social circle of people who stood up for her against those who were far less accepting. Even if she was still learning the intricacies of Gemman school life, Tessa immediately picked up on the fact that Poppy’s friends weren’t exactly model companions. Half of them seemed to be in detention at any given time. Still, they never asked Tessa to do anything she was uncomfortable with, and underneath their rebellious exteriors, they were genuinely nice people.
One day, Poppy even provided help with a matter she’d clearly never expected to deal with.
“Have you ever been to a Church of Humanity service?” Tessa asked. They were in their last-period science class, and despite her flippant attitude, Poppy excelled at the subject. She always finished early, which meant Tessa also finished early.
Poppy glanced up from her reader, where she’d been looking at pictures of an actor she adored. “Sure. My parents make me go on holidays.”
“I want to see a service.”
Poppy snorted. “Why? It’s boring as hell. And you can watch one on the stream.”
Tessa already had but still wanted to experience it in person. Watching wasn’t the same as feeling, and she needed to understand the concept of a church without a god. She missed the church services her family had regularly attended, and even though she knew there were Christian variants in the RUNA, she also knew that someone in a servitor’s household participating in anything other than the state’s sanctioned “religion” would draw attention.
“I just want to,” said Tessa. “Would you go with me?”
“Hell no. No offense. You’d know I’d do just about anything for you, Tess, but I’ve got to draw the line at lectures on morality.”
“Okay.” Tessa tried to hide her disappointment but must have failed, because Poppy sighed heavily.
“Damn it, don’t look like that. It breaks my heart.” Poppy peered around and focused on a boy with curly dark hair, who was leaning over his assignment. “Yo, Dennis,” she called. “Come here.”
He looked surprised but walked over to their table. “Hey,” he said.
Poppy nodded toward Tessa. “Will you take her to church one of these days?” To Tessa, she explained, “Dennis comes from a nice, well-behaved family. Well, aside from Rhea.”
Rhea was another friend of Poppy’s, one who’d been suspended after being caught in a compromising position with a teacher.
Dennis gave Tessa a nervous smile. “Sure. I’m going after school today if you want to come.”
Tessa froze, but Poppy answered for her. “Of course she does. And tell Rhea she still owes me money.”
Dennis went back to his seat, and Tessa turned on Poppy in horror. “I can’t go with him! Not alone. We need…I don’t know. A chaperone or something.”