‘Live?’ she asked. ‘When have you had a chance to hear them live?’
‘The other night at Steel Magnolias?’ he sounded surprised. ‘Your friend Collins invited me, very nice of him indeed, and he’s a great chap, though a Mortal. You should have told me you worked with him, we’ve done business together before. He’s a great chap. He can even steer hovercars manually, did you know that?’
The feeling of warmth she’s just experienced turned into cold fury in a split second. That bastard!
‘No, I didn’t know that,’ she said, controlling her voice with huge effort. ‘So you like the music, then?’
‘Oh yes, you were absolutely right,’ he said. ‘Not that I didn’t believe you, it’s just two different things, hearing about it and actually listening to the beat, you know? By all means, let me know if they play another private concert, some friends of mine would like to see them, too, I’m sure, so it could be even more business for you.’
‘More business, sir?’
‘Sorry, Amari, I assumed you and Daniel Collins would have caught up by now? I told him I was going for it, we discussed some details on the night... Sorry, I’m going to have to go now, just send my secretary the contract ASAP, ok?’
‘Certainly, sir.’
The line went dead.
She stood there for a few moments, until the pain from her clenched fists and knuckles pressed against her desk became unbearable. She tried to suppress the increasing pounding of her heart and the blood flooding her brain with massive pressure.
But she couldn’t control it. The thin line had been crossed – not just treaded on, but crossed with a huge, arrogant, impossible to ignore, step. And she’d done too much self-control in the last few weeks. Now she wanted to let it all out. Penny said Collins had just sent his updated report in, which meant he may still be in his office. It’s time to get some things straight, she thought.
Her hands shook with rage when she grabbed her coat and idatron and headed for the portal, which was already opening to let her into her approaching hovermobile.
The parking lot was locked up and of course the building was not equipped to communicate with Eiko, so she couldn’t get parked at the charging station. She just left her vehicle right outside the main entrance, not caring if it was against any laws, and walked straight into the lobby.
‘Can I help you, miss?’ the concierge stood up behind his desk. She ignored him, heading straight for the elevators. There was one sitting on the first floor.
‘Miss, are you meeting anyone? Office hours are from 8am till 6pm, I really think you should come back in the morning..!’
The shutting door cut him off before he managed to get out from behind his desk and run to the elevators.
Every second it took to get her to the right floor multiplied her rage.
The tenth floor was empty and dark, apart from emergency exit lights, but as she walked along the corridor, she saw light coming out of Collins Communications office. She walked fast. Loud clicks of her high heels merged into one another, echoing against the walls.
Collins sat at the big table, with a huge projection of Carpe Diem’s tour map coming out of his new idatron. He looked at her surprised, but she didn’t allow him any time to speak.
‘How DARE you go behind my back and make a deal with MY client without even so much as consulting the terms and conditions with me!’ she shouted, storming into the room. ‘Who the hell do you think you are? Is this why you insisted on working with me? To piss me off? Huh? Is that what you wanted?’
He looked at her for a moment, speechless.
‘Which question am I to answer first?’ he finally uttered.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?!’ she exploded. ‘Do you think this is funny? Is this just one big joke for you?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ he answered.
‘Why did you ask to work with me?’
‘Because you are good at what you do,’ he said slowly, still shocked. ‘No, you are the best at what you do. And that’s what I needed for this project.’
‘Oh, come on, give me a break. Do you really think I’m that bloody naïve to go for your pathetic flattery? I’m not some dupe you can flatter, so drop your bullshit and tell me what it really was that made you insist on working with me? You wanted to humiliate me, didn’t you? Show off, prove that you are better than an Immortal?’
‘Amaranthine, I really don’t know what you are talking about. I asked to work with you, because I’ve seen the results of your work, and I’ve heard a lot about your skills and contacts in the trade.’
‘Well,’ she hissed, ‘if your idea of working with me is stealing all of my clients, you’d better change it quick. Whatever agenda it is that you have, I will not let you use me. You say you liked the results of my work? Well, let me tell you something. All those results were achieved through trust, which, as far as I’m concerned, is crucial in business. But clearly very different standards are in place amongst Mortals like you.’
‘Look, Amaranthine,’ he said, ‘is there an actual problem that you came to talk to me about, or did you just want to have an outburst of anti-Mortal prejudice and antipathy? It’s ok if it is, I’ve had people like you come to me purely to tell me how much they disliked me. I can handle it, so you don’t have to hide it. I like clear situations.’
‘You have the cheek to call ME prejudiced?!’ she shouted. ‘To turn it all on me? Let me tell you something, Mr. Collins. I have plenty of reasons not to like Mortals, and they have nothing to do with prejudice. But I worked with you in good faith, I have done my best for your project, because I believe in being professional. I also believe in a certain amount of trust between people who do business together. Trust that I gave you, and which you have betrayed by contacting Athos McLaren behind my back and negotiating a contract with him. You used me just like all you Mortals like to use Immortals. We pay taxes to make this world a better place for everyone, and you waste it on things that bring humanity absolutely no benefits whatsoever, like primary education for your offspring. We discover cures to all diseases that you then use to prolong your lives, to claim pensions whilst you sit idle and wait for death instead of contributing something to the society. We pay for your rubbish disposal, and you can’t even afford hovermobiles so that the surface of our planet could be cleared of roads, because you waste your resources in the name of your sentiments and weaknesses. We spend time in laboratories and discover new technologies, like hovering engines or plastglass, whilst you pay homage to your imaginary gods. Is that clear enough for you?’
‘Indeed,’ he said quietly, ‘you couldn’t have been clearer. I finally understand what brought you here, and how big a mistake I made when I asked to work with you. You are not only prejudiced, but don’t bother to check basic facts. If that’s what you call professionalism, then help us God, if he exists.’
‘Before you dare question me, tell me one thing that isn’t true in what I have said!’
‘Oh, there are many, but that does not matter anymore,’ he said. ‘I understand our project together is over, so let’s not waste any more of each other’s time.’
‘Well, you have got that right. The longer I speak with you, the more I am convinced of it. I am not accustomed to working with people who call others unprofessional and liars, but are unable to point out even one thing that they’ve said that wasn’t true. I imagine it’s another typical mortal thing to do.’
‘Ok, if you insist so, I’ll give you an example. You Immortals like to think you invented everything in this world and us Mortals are just parasites that benefit from your hard work. You say you invented the hovering engine? Check your facts and you’ll be surprised.’
She couldn’t help but to give him a smile full of contempt. I can’t believe I have to tell him such basic facts, she thought.
‘I knew you were arrogant, untrustworthy and cynical, now I know one more thing about you. You are also completely ignorant. You tell me to c
heck my facts? I don’t have to check anything, as opposed to you. The hovering engine was invented in 2065 by Amar Gray, an Immortal, which is a piece of common knowledge.’
‘Well, I’m very sorry to disappoint you, Miss Quinn, but it seems common knowledge doesn’t always get it right. You may say everyone knows Amar Gray was the inventor of the hovering engine? Yes, probably everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that he had a co-worker who never gets mentioned, but who made the crucial breakthrough in the research, just in time, before the whole project was scrapped. A Mortal who does not care about recognition, because he has more important things in life to care about. Anyway, I’m not wasting any more of my time on this stupid argument.’
‘Neither am I,’ she said coldly. ‘I’ve had enough of you, your ideas of doing business and your versions of the history of innovations. Have a good life.’
‘Goodbye, Amaranthine.’
She turned on her heel and walked right out, without looking back.
Daniel didn’t look at her as she left his office. He stood at his desk, motionless, until the sound of her heels in the empty corridor died away. But even then, when she was gone, the faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air, not letting him forget about what had just happened.
He had never seen such pure hatred. Her maroon eyes were like burning embers when she yelled at him. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel angry. All he felt was deep, bitter disappointment. And regret. Regret at something he thought would be an exciting experience, a learning curve, and a successful business project. Regret at being naïve enough to believe that harmonious cooperation with Immortals was possible, that he could make it work. That they were capable of changing, of looking beyond stereotypes, of shaking off their prejudices. He had managed to work with them before, and he strongly believed he could do it with Amaranthine, too. But clearly she wasn’t capable of changing, or worse – didn’t have any desire to try. Seems everyone else was right about her, he thought bitterly. Everyone warned me not to get her involved, predicted it would all end very badly. Everyone saw it coming.
Everyone except for me.
Back in her apartment, Amaranthine found herself incapable of thinking straight. She felt confused and uneasy, couldn’t sit down, couldn’t take off her coat or shoes, just strolled her apartment from the bar to the windows, desperately trying to organize her thoughts. But they were too many and too contradictory to make any sense right now. Why don’t I feel relief and satisfaction? I’ve wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him and all the Mortals, and I’ve done it. I didn’t want to work with him a day longer, and I don’t have to anymore. I don’t care about the consequences, I can afford a break in income. In fact, I’m finally getting some well-deserved time off. So why do I feel so weird?
This whole thing has cost me too much emotionally, she thought. When I look back at it now, I can’t believe I agreed to work with Mortals. How could Nectar have done this to me? And why did I let him blackmail me into this?
She felt spaced out and exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time yet. She thought again about her row with Collins. What is it that I find so unsettling about this guy? I know he is an arrogant amateur, but there is something else he is hiding, something I cannot detect. She observed the changes on his face when she confronted him, but somehow what she saw didn’t match any of the possible reactions of someone whose low-down trick had just been exposed. There was definitely a very strong emotion showing in his eyes, but it was neither shame nor denying arrogance. What is he up to? What is his agenda?
This is all far too confusing for a late Friday night after a hell of a week, she decided. And who cares anyway? It’s all over. I should just try to get some sleep and tomorrow I’ll be able to think clearly. I’d better let Nectar know it’s over as soon as possible, he may be able to negotiate a replacement with Collins if he wants to keep his business. Either way, my time with Elixir Vitae Communications is over. Even if Nectar wanted to keep me, or give me unpaid leave, I wouldn’t take it.
She finally felt a little calmer. She took off her coat and started unzipping her boots. I’m going to take a long hot bath, she thought, and deal with this whole mess tomorrow.
Incoming call from Mr. McLaren, rang in her head. Her idatron was flashing.
She looked at the clock, totally perplexed. At this hour?
‘Hello? Mr. McLaren?’ she couldn’t hide the shock in her voice. ‘Is everything ok?’
‘Amari, hi,’ he replied. ‘Yes, everything is ok. Sorry to bother you so late into the night, but I’m leaving town for a couple of weeks on Monday and wanted to wrap things up before I go. I thought you wouldn’t mind, as it’s good news.’
‘Mr. McLaren...’ she started.
‘I’ll be real quick,’ he didn’t let her finish. ‘It’s just that I played that music to a friend of mine and he’s also in. Hedone Jones of GH Ltd, I’m sure you know of him. Just wanted to let you know so you can send him a contract, too. He’s interested in a similar deal as me.’
‘I appreciate this very much, sir, but I’m afraid you’ll have to discuss this further with Mr. Collins...’
‘I tried to call him already, but he didn’t pick up,’ Mr. McLaren said. ‘He’s probably worried I’ll invite myself to one of his concerts again,’ he chuckled.
Amaranthine senses sprang up to full attention.
‘What do you mean, invite yourself?’ She was understanding less and less.
‘Oh, just the last time,’ he laughed again. ‘It was awfully nice of him to let me come at such short notice the other night. I caught him at an inconvenient time but he didn’t mind at all. Nice chap, that Collins, I’m sure he’ll switch sides one day and become immortal. So, can I expect those contracts on Monday? I’ve sent you my friend’s details already.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Amaranthine said slowly, still in shock. ‘Did you say you called Daniel Collins on Wednesday night? He didn’t call you first?’
‘Yes, I did,’ he answered, a little surprised, his humorous tone fading away. ‘I saw his name on your spec and he’s done good work for me before, so I called him to find out more about the band. I’m sorry, Amari, I shouldn’t have called you so late,’ he said. ‘You’re clearly exhausted... Anyway, you can e-mail me those contracts Monday, yes?’
Amaranthine pulled it together only for the few seconds it took to respond.
‘Of course, sir, they will be with you first thing. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly there for a moment.’
‘You have a good weekend, Amari, take some rest. Speak to you soon.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
He disconnected. Amaranthine stared at her idatron for a long time, trying to understand what has just happened. Very, very slowly, it sank in.
She felt sick.
CHAPTER NINE
Sunday morning found her lying curled up on top of her bed, staring out the window into the depressing, gloomy clouds and drops of rain forming long, gray paths along the surface of her plastglass window. She chose one drop and followed its journey from the top, as it joined with other drops on the way, changing its route, but inevitably disappearing out of sight at the bottom of the window. Then she chose another drop and followed it, just like the previous one.
Unable to sleep, she just snoozed off a few times out of pure exhaustion, but even in those brief moments her mind wouldn’t rest. She felt constantly nauseas and lightheaded. The chaos in her head was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced, even to The Universe disaster. Athos McLaren’s phone call came upon her like a sudden earthquake that shook everything she had thought about Daniel Collins. It had been nearly three months since she met him, and all that time she had a very clear picture of him in her head.
Problem was, this picture had been totally distorted by her prejudice against the Mortals.
Since Friday night, she’d gone over and over every moment of their encounter in his office, including the dramatic
finale, flinching every time the insults she threw at him echoed back in her head. She saw his blue eyes filled with strong emotions – the emotions she could now identify. Disappointment. Pain. And regret. It was clearly painted all over his face, but she’d refused to see it. Everything he ever did, said or expressed in his body language, she now reinterpreted in her head, naming it the right names. Kindness that she took for contempt. Enthusiasm and business instinct that she took for amateurism and naivety. Readiness to help and contribute, that she took for attempts to undermine her authority, and to humiliate her. Everything she had ascribed to him, blinded by hatred and prejudice, was wrong, and she had to repaint this picture now, inch by inch, seeing him for what he really was.
The process she went through eventually led her to the final words of their argument. She remembered what he said about the inventor of the hovering engine. She dismissed it as ignorance or Mortals’ attempts to make themselves look important. But she knew now that he was honest with her about everything else. He had no reason to make things up. But… how could it be? Could Mortals really be contributing to important inventions but getting no recognition for it?
There’s only one way to find out, she thought. She activated her idatron and decided to do some research.
At first the searches brought nothing – every media report, every globesite, every interview published after the hovering engine was invented, mentioned no Mortals involved in the research. She didn’t understand how a detail like this could be missed by every possible source. She didn’t give up though, even after almost an hour of fruitless research.
Then it finally clicked where she was going wrong.
‘Eiko,’ she said, suddenly understanding. ‘What is the configuration of my globenet account regarding Mortal sources?’
‘They are disabled,’ Eiko replied. ‘Your access is strictly to Immortal sites.’
‘Can you unable them?’
‘This operation requires the operator’s intervention,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to connect you?’