Toys

here?

I had no idea, but I doubted it. The Elites were definitely on our trail now, and they were very good at this kind of skunkhunt.

The inside of the apartment was spacious and nicely furnished, complete with a servant android-who reminded me of Metallico, except female, much more polite, and armed. The gun-toting robot had set out a curious spread of roast beef, mutton, vegetables, mashed potatoes, scones, and jelly. Plus, a stiff drink for each of us.

But my appetite simply wouldn’t kick in, and I decided to speak my mind, even though it might create a breach between Lucy and me.

“Did you know about Lizbeth being in on 7–4 Day?” I asked. “You did, didn’t you, Lucy? You knew all this time, but never told me?”

She kept looking at me steadily. “Yes, I’m afraid I did, Hays.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew Sir Nigel would want to handle it himself. He told me as much.”

I set down my fork. Actually, I threw it at my plate.

“I’m sick to death of being jerked around,” I said. “And you seem to be doing a lot of the jerking, sister.”

“I’m sorry, Hays, I truly am. But that’s just the way things have gone so far. This is a crisis situation, no? It’s not me who wants to deceive you.”

“Got any more little secrets to share? I’d like to know all of them now.”

“Secrets?” she said scornfully. “If you want to talk about trust, we have a lot more reason not to trust you than the other way around. You were an Elite bastard until very recently. You were, you are, married to Lizbeth.”

Lucy stood up abruptly and stalked out of the room.

Well, that hadn’t gotten me very far, had it? In fact, it had been a disaster. I wanted to make a bond with Lucy, but I kept messing up. We both did.

By now I’d had some time to think about Lizbeth. Part of me kept insisting that what I’d heard so far was impossible. To start with, she was two years younger than me-born after 7–4 Day.

Or had she been?

I’d met her twelve years ago in New Chicago, soon after I started working at the Agency of Change. About her past before that, I only knew what she’d told me. Of course, I’d seen the marriage documents listing her birth date. But documents could easily be altered… If Nigel’s story was correct, she’d have to be at least twice my age. But Elites stayed youthful far longer than humans, and with the science work she did, she had access to the latest anti-aging technology.

I’d taken it for granted that Lizbeth loved me, but now I remembered her cold side. Everything in her life was chosen for maximum function and efficiency. And she had turned her back on me the instant my troubles started!

Was the woman I’d given my heart to really a cold-blooded, scheming monster? Had she devoted her earlier life to helping the Elites annihilate much of the human race?

Then what?

She had coolly decided she was ready to start a family, saw a promising young agent, and lied to him about everything you could lie to someone about. Even our marriage vows-had they been calculated lies too?

Others would have to have been in on it-but there were others, like Jax Moore.

My brain and gut were giving me the terrible news about my marriage: it had all been a rotten, stinking lie. My entire life was one big lie.

Chapter 68

Speaking of deluding oneself-there were always amazing toys to play with, even in an MI7 safe house. I couldn’t resist. No one can…

With eight seconds left in the World Cup soccer game, the score stood tied, one to one. The earth trembled under my running feet from the stamping of the hundred thousand screaming fans who packed the stadium.

I booted the ball up in a high, looping pass and charged down the grassy field to receive it back, racing fiercely against the other team-the past year’s World Cup champion from Italy.

Twisting and feinting, I cut sharply in and out of the sprinting figures.

Then someone slammed into my legs and knocked me rolling-one of the Italian players had blindsided me.

The crowd’s roar rose to a fury and the ground shook like an earthquake-but the referee was acting like nothing had happened!

I came up off the ground in a footfirst lunge.

I saw the ball.

It had reached the top of its arc and hung there for an instant like the sun, then it quickly gained speed as it plunged downward.

I launched myself toward it-with every stitch of its black and white hexagons, every scuff and scrape on its surface, crystal clear in my vision.

The goalie leaped into position, his body tensed, arms spread wide.

I feinted at the ball with my head, but at the last second, I ducked, flipped, and smashed it with my foot toward the far side of the net.

The goalie spun to follow and made a desperate leap, but his fingertips only grazed it as the ball shot into the far upper corner.

Boom! The sound of the final gun.

The crowd turned into an insane human wave, tearing seats out of the stands, swinging them as they stormed the field.

Abruptly, the yelling voices and vivid colors disappeared, leaving a blank screen flashing the words “GAME OVER.”

I tugged off my headset and sank back on the couch, panting, soaked with sweat.

This was one mother of a simulator! Everything had seemed so real.

Anyone who hid out here at the safe house had time on his hands. So MI7 made sure there was entertainment-Toyz Corporation’s latest products. I’d been immersing myself in them, waiting for orders to come from Sir Nigel. Trying to keep my mind off Lizbeth and our kids.

Suddenly, a hand came to rest on my shoulder.

Slender.

Female.

Impossibly soft.

Tony red nails, long ones.

“Hi, Hays,” said the house android, Anna. “I came to see if I could get you anything. Anything at all.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, glancing at her distractedly. “Honestly, I am.”

Then my head swung back for another look.

“Anna?”

I’d realized that Anna was no ordinary servant model. She was definitely high-end-not only intelligent, but also with the capacity to morph into other shapes.

Now she was wearing a slinky black dress with slingback high heels. Her eyes had turned liquid blue… and she’d developed a shock of blond hair. And I mean that-a shock of blond hair.

She could have been Lucy’s twin.

“You like?” she asked.