Nathan didn't react. He knew it was a rhetorical question.
"And then there's that mysterious assailant hiding in the shadows on the Ave that originally brought you to our attention. No one could find him, but you got a good look at him, didn't you, Nathan? Look anything like this guy?" Again, the photo was held up.
Nathan finished his cigarette and took another out of the pack.
"Okay, you're not in a chatty mood... So, I'll tell you what I think: This is one of your old crew, from your Puke days, with a hard-on for pulling your stem... now that you have one. That bombing down in Westlake wasn't just some random act of violence, but an attempt to snuff you out... killing a whole lot of regular folks in the bargain. Any of this sound familiar?"
Nathan shot an accusatory look at Jude. Jude tried to smile. "I had to tell somebody, baby. For your own protection."
Nathan turned back to Arnold. "Maybe you should speak to Peters..." He brought his cigarette to his lips.
"I don't need to speak to Peters," Arnold said a little too quickly, a little too forthrightly.
"What?" Nathan asked, now suspicious. "What?" He turned to Jude.
"Peters..." she scrambled. "The Big U... they just didn't have your best interests at heart, honey..."
"Peters is out?" Nathan asked in surprise.
"Jude came to me, concerned about your safety," Arnold added.
"I– I don't understand," Nathan said. But the fact was that he was beginning to. First Peters cut Waverly out, now Jude cut Peters out and added Charles Arnold.
"It has been city security keeping you safe thus far, Mr. Pope. You can trust us to keep you that way."
"Thank– Thank you..." Nathan nodded, trying to force a smile.
"I'll be handling your interview schedule from here on out, baby," Jude again squeezed Nathan's hand. "There's nothing for you to worry about."
Chapter 19
After a week of trying, it became obvious that there was no getting near Steve.
The security around him was far too tight. The Belltown condominium complex, completely occupied for Steve's safety and comfort, was locked down tighter than a bank vault. He never left the structure. The media always came to him, filming in one of the many, empty condo units that filled the twenty-story structure. Eydie played with the idea of posing as a news crew, but she quickly abandoned it – the equipment required to convincingly pull off such a ruse was prohibitively expensive, and decidedly difficult to steal.
Inevitably, Eydie was forced to be satisfied with sitting and waiting for Steve's eventual exit from his impenetrable castle. An event as rare as a blue moon. As a second week began to slip away from them, the risk that the police might soon discover the Candy Kitchen almost spurred Eydie to give up on the whole enterprise. Then Prime saw a headline in the PI: "Dr. Nolan Raul to Visit Seattle. Pay His Respects at Westlake Memorial, Host Round Table."
Doctor Stem. Here in Seattle.
It was perfect.
Doctor Nolan Raul, aka Doctor Stem. The inventor and patent holder of the Whole Life Interface. CEO and Chief Scientist of Whole Life Inc. Doctor Stem! The man himself. The Father of the Stem, coming to Seattle to host a round table at the Opera House. A black-tie affair with a very special guest: Nathan Pope. The Last Puke.
It was everything Eydie had been waiting for. And so, so much more. Not just an event that demanded Steve's departure from his sky fortress, but a public event that put Steve in the same room with Stem serial #1: Doctor Raul. The first man ever to be implanted.
Eydie could almost taste the irony.
The group fell into their roles: Eydie and Kevin vanished into the Candy Kitchen's basement, cooking up an extra special surprise to celebrate the event. Elder and Beat busied themselves shopping for the evening wear they'd require with what was left of Prime's liquid funds. Prime moved across the ravine to his garage to prepare the Wagoneer for service.
Elder and Sweet bought Elder a three hundred dollar suit that fit like a sack, and Kevin one much like it. For the ladies, Beat purchased two long, flowing size-zero dresses. Elder could imagine Eydie fitting into one, but Beat just spilled out the sides of hers, something she happily displayed to Elder in the changing room of the store.
It was perfect, Beat had commented, slipping out of the dress. She'd had the store clerk wrap them up.
Prime was a lost cause. His bulk was just too noticeable, no matter what costumes Beat dressed him in. Fortunately, there was plenty of work for Prime in the relative safety and privacy of the Wagoneer. Prime began rigging the truck as a mobile command center, wiring up communications and video feeds via pinhole cameras. He also dusted off his armory, oiling and loading a selection of handguns.
They'd go into the Opera House armed. And shoot their way out if they had to.
#
"It's not too late to just make a break for it," Beat said, her arms covered in grease up to her elbows. She had the hood of the Wagoneer open and was rummaging adroitly around inside for the glow plugs. Elder was sitting on the bumper of his stolen taxi cab while Prime was working inside the Wagoneer, installing equipment. "This is a stupid risk," she said, coming up with a glow plug.
It was already too late to just make a break for it, and they all realized it. The city was dotted with roadblocks. Every exit out of the city was watched. The police were tightening their dragnet, attempting to catch the terrorists responsible for the bombing of Westlake Square, sweeping up what few Pukes who'd managed to evade internment as they went. Keeping a low profile and staying put had kept the group safe. Once they popped their heads up, whether to make a play for Steve or flee from the city, they'd be exposed.
"Eydie said she didn't want to leave anyone behind," Prime replied from inside the Wagoneer.
"I don't see how this move on the Opera House is going to change that," Beat said, ratcheting a new glow plug into place.
"I think she's concerned about our legacy." Prime added.
This made Beat pause. "Legacy?" She looked around the hood of the Wagoneer. "What sort of bullshit is that?"
Prime sat up and shrugged with a screwdriver between his teeth.
"Fucking waste of time and energy if you ask me." Beat returned to the engine. "The longer we wait, the harder it's going to be to get out of town."
Prime spat out the screwdriver between his teeth and used it to tighten something down. "Running a roadblock is a risk in itself," he said as he worked. "If we can cause enough chaos... might make slipping out of town a lot easier..."
Beat grunted. She didn't disagree, but she didn't agree either.
"Eydie still wants to hit back," Elder spoke up. "Her way. If we run away, what then? What happens when the Stems eventually find this hidden valley of Prime's? I think Eydie is thinking ahead. She's fighting, not only this battle, but the next one..."
Elder's comment was met with silence.
"Shit," Beat said.
"What?" Elder raised an eyebrow.
"That was downright insightful, Elder."
"Well..." Elder scratched his stubble-free chin. "Well, am I wrong?"
Beat laughed. "No, no, Tull, you ain't wrong..."
Prime laughed, too.
Chapter 20
The switch happened so quickly that Nathan hardly noticed it until it was complete.
Coming out through the main swinging doors of his condominium complex, flanked on either side by dark-suited bodyguards with bluetooth headsets in their ears, Nathan paid no attention to the second pair of dark-suited bodyguards waiting on the sidewalk. He was completely unaware as the two new bodyguards fell into step behind the first pair.
His first indication that something was amiss came with the sound of the bodies of the original pair tumbling to the concrete. The new bodyguards didn't break their step, moving in tight and taking each of Nathan's arms. Before Nathan could react, he was bustled into a waiting town car, the one he had assumed to be his ride to the Opera House.
Peters was waiting fo
r Nathan inside.
As the town car sped away, Nathan realized what had happened. His Mayor's Office bodyguards were lying unconscious on the sidewalk in front of the condominium complex that had been Nathan's home – the whole extent of his universe for the last week – and two new, almost identical bodyguards had seamlessly taken their place. But these bodyguards were not from Charles Arnold's city security – not with Peters present in the town car. What faction were these goons, then? Nathan looked at the large man to his left and then the large man to his right. Big U, Nathan guessed.
"What's going on?" Nathan asked, not actually expecting an answer.
"You're a very difficult man to get an appointment with, Nathan," Peters said, his ever-present cell phone in his hand.
"You could have picked up a phone," Nathan responded sarcastically.
"I did, I did... Jude always answered." Peters tucked his phone away in his pocket, leaned forward and fixed Nathan with a concerned stare. "Let me ask you, Nathan: Was this your idea, or was it Jude's play?"
"Play?" Nathan didn't understand. "What are you...?"
Peters seemed satisfied with that answer. He leaned back in his seat and fished his phone back out of his pocket. "I suspected as much. Nathan, you don't need to worry. We'll take care of all this. My people will escort you to the Opera House. We're providing security for the whole event. Dr. Raul's people are on board. When the evening is over, we'll be taking you to a new location. The condo is... compromised."
"Compromised?" Nathan smirked. "What about Jude?"
"She a complication right now, Nathan. A complication you don't need."
"Jude's out," Nathan said flatly. He was beginning to understand.
Peters looked up from his phone. "Nathan..."
"Don't I get a say in any of this?"
"I understand." Peters looked down and began to type something into his phone. "I understand Jude provided... services. That can be taken care of."
"I–" Nathan began, but cut himself off. "This is insane!"
"Nathan, you're five minutes away from being in the same room as Doctor Nolan Raul himself. You need to focus on the task at hand, forget about this unimportant stuff."
"Forget about it?" Nathan laughed. "You've just kidnapped me."
"Rescued you, Nathan," Peters corrected. "All personal loyalties aside, you'd do well to see the big picture here, Nathan. The Universal Party is the big picture, Nathan. Jude, this town, that silly little book... that's all small time. After today, Nathan, when the nation sees you sitting next to Doctor Raul himself. Well, Nathan, who knows... who knows what could be next?"
"You're kidding me." Nathan looked between his two new bodyguards.
"Kidding?" Peters leaned forward again. "Nathan. Events like this, like this bombing, create people. You have America's attention. They're looking to you to find some sanity in all the madness. Doctor Raul and his people understand this. They wouldn't be flying all this way if you weren't a lightning rod. They need you, Nathan, and you can use them. A bump like this... well, Nathan I can't tell you how something like this might trend. What do you want, Nathan? What do you really want?"
"Out of this car," Nathan said seriously.
"Nathan, don't be an idiot!" Peters raised his hands in despair. "Stick with the winning team. You're about to go global, Nathan, when the press of this evening hits. Picture it." Peters held up his hands like he was framing a picture around Nathan's face. "The First Stem and the last Puke. It's too perfect. Periphrasis on an era of the human race. Jude. That dick Arnold... They'd just drag you down, Nathan."
Squashed between the two mountains of muscle that constituted Nathan's new security guards, Nathan felt very alone. Ever since he'd woken up in that hospital with the stem inside him, he'd felt like a product to be handled. The world was swirling around him, and all of it out of his control. Here again, he was being manipulated. Some fissure had formed between Jude and Peters that Nathan had been unaware of. Nathan's thoughts went back to that night he'd found Jude crying in the closet. What had that been about? Now, perhaps, it made a little more sense. Everything was moving so quickly, if only Nathan could find a second to stop and think...
The town car pulled onto Mercer and slowed in front of the festively lit Opera House. A crowd had gathered, waiting on the dignitaries, and an array of cameras flashed as the town car pulled up to the curb. In one quick motion, the two bodyguards pulled Nathan out of the car and up the walk towards the main entrance. The chaos of snapping bulbs and the screams of enthusiastic onlookers overwhelmed Nathan.
Peters was behind him, talking to someone on his phone.
Chapter 21
Elder Tull felt like James Bond ,a feeling only intensified by the fact that he was wearing a high-capacity 9mm in a shoulder holster under his jacket, and the payload for the evening's festivities discreetly duct-taped under his shirt.
He even looked the part, cutting a handsome figure in the suit Beat had purchased for him. It'd taken a few hours to take in the seams, but the end result had been well worth it. Elder looked like a million bucks. Elder looked like a super secret agent spy. Most of all, Elder looked like a Stem. This time, venturing outside the Candy Kitchen he was confident no one was going to pay him a second glance. The old Elder Tull was gone.
With Eydie on his arm, the transformation was complete. Whatever weaknesses there might have been in Elder's disguise, he felt confident no one would notice them. With Eydie anywhere within ten feet of Elder, no one would pay Elder a second glance. Eydie was stunning. The perfect splash of sex in her tight evening gown. How she'd hidden a gun in the outfit, Elder could only guess, and he longed for the evening to be over so he could strip her down and find the answer.
But first things first.
Their scalped, potentially counterfeit tickets got them through the door. They walked through the metal-detecting arch without setting off the alarm thanks to a little gadget in Eydie's purse. How it worked, who'd built it, and how exactly he'd managed to get it, Prime was hazy about. "Don't open the box," was all that Prime had said. And when Prime tells you something like that... well, you didn't open the box.
The Opera House was busy with the cream of Seattle society.
Impossibly ageless, impossibly wealthy people milled in every direction. Cigarette and cigar smoke from the Stem's pre-event puff filled the lobby. Elder fought back an urge to cough, and Eydie elbowed him in the ribs as a small hack made its way up. They accepted cigarettes from a waiter circling the floor, but only held them near their lips, leaving them unlit.
They spotted Sweet Beat and Kevin across the lobby floor. Kevin looked tall and mysterious, towering beside Beat. Beat, for her part, was all boobs, the tattoos on her arms painted over with foundation. Beat was fully partaking in her pre-event cigarette, blowing smoke rings in front of her, laughing as she talked to a couple. Kevin stood silently, watching. Elder caught Kevin's eye. They nodded.
When the lights in the lobby flickered, the crowd began to move en masse into the hall itself. Stems were laughing, chatting, extinguishing their cigarettes. Elder and Eydie pulled themselves to the side and watched the crowd pass. How large was the Opera House? Three thousand? It was a packed house, and potentially no one there was worth less than a hundred million dollars. An evening with Doctor Raul was an unprecedented opportunity. Absolutely everyone who was anyone was in attendance.
Including Nathan Pope.
The Last Puke. His presence on television was becoming irritating. Every show, every channel featured Nathan with his condescending condemnation of the Pukes. He himself had been a Puke not two weeks prior, and therefore he spoke with "authority" regarding the squalid conditions in which Pukes suffered. It wasn't their fault, really, the lack of food had driven most insane. Whoever had set off the bomb in Westlake Square needed help, not punishment. If they were implanted with a WLI... well, it changed people. Of course, people should be punished for their crimes, but the Pukes were ignorant, not evil. Their ignorance
just makes them do evil things.
It was utter bullshit.
It ironically made Elder want to puke. But it cut into Eydie like a knife. To watch her former lover on television speaking of his old life with regret. Eydie was able to hide it, but Elder knew it was killing her inside. He knew she'd have no peace until she'd completed her mission. Then she'd be free.
Then, perhaps, she'd truly be Elder's.
As Beat and Kevin meandered within the crowd, filtering into the hall, they passed by Elder and Eydie. Casually, Eydie stepped away from Elder and joined Kevin and Beat in the mass of people moving into the hall. Elder sunk back, finding a hidden door he only knew existed from studying the Opera House's blue prints, and vanished out of sight.
He was on his own now as the three other Pukes found their seats in the auditorium. The fun was about to begin.
#
Nathan waited nervously in the wings stage right. The sets for a Wagner opera were hidden by the large, white projection screen that backed the stage. Perhaps tomorrow it was the Ring Cycle, but tonight it was a round table with Doctor Stem. Nathan's palms were sweating. On the stage was a single table with six seats behind it, facing the audience.
Except for a laptop, the table was empty. Other dignitaries were waiting in the wings with Nathan: the Mayor, a local celebrity that Nathan only half recognized... but otherwise, Nathan was alone. The goons from the Big U and Peters were conspicuously absent. Doctor Raul's security had kept them back, off the stage. For the first time in a week, Nathan was alone. For almost every waking moment since his conversion, Jude had been at Nathan's side. When she'd been absent, security personnel had replaced her. The solitude was freeing. It gave Nathan a chance to think, organize his thoughts.
What the hell was going on? What was with that switch of personnel in front of the condominium? First, Peters was out and Arnold was in; now Jude and Arnold were out and Peters was back in. Everyone pushing and shoving, and Nathan in the middle. It was driving him insane. And now here he was, with a concert hall full of people expecting him to say something interesting while sitting next to the most famous man in the world. Nathan wiped his palms on the pants of his thousand-dollar silk suit. At least he'd look good making a fool of himself.