Replica

“I’ll go shopping first thing in the morning. Paxco doesn’t make anything that would fit the bill, but I’m sure I can find a microtransmitter on the black market that would do the job.” Gerri released her from the hug, but kept her hands on Nadia’s shoulders, fixing her with an intent stare. “Promise me, promise me, that if we do this, you’ll pretend the transmitter isn’t there. Do not go fishing. If Mosely says something incriminating, fine. But don’t try to lead him into it. Don’t take the chance that he might figure out you’re wearing it.”

Perhaps Nadia was giving her sister an inflated opinion of her courage. Much though she wanted to get revenge on Mosely, the idea that she was going to try to record him scared the hell out of her. No way was she going to take any more chances than necessary.

“I promise,” she said simply, and after another soul-searching look, Gerri nodded.

“Okay then. Let’s get back to the party before Mom sends a search party after us.”

Forcing a smile, wondering how she was going to endure an evening of gossip and small talk, Nadia followed her sister out of the apartment.

CHAPTER NINE

Nate would have loved to get his trip to the Basement over with early so he could get some sleep, but he had to wait until his household quieted down for the night to reduce the chances of being seen. He kept himself awake by watching a horror movie on the net, but the ads for an upcoming news special were way scarier than the movie. The ad came up on every commercial break, showing Nate cussing out the reporter and shoving the microphone out of his face; worse, some talking head with a PhD was speculating about whether such an outburst from a former media darling meant the Replication process was flawed and had created violent tendencies. He finally quit watching the movie just so he could stop seeing that ad.

At 1:00 A.M., Nate started the laborious process of transforming himself once more into the Ghost. He was already running on fumes, and this was going to be one hell of a long night.

Yawning, Nate checked the various hiding places on his costume to make sure all the dollars Nadia had given him were secure and hidden. His conscience nagged at him for the way he’d treated her this afternoon. Now that Kurt was gone, she was the only true friend he had, and the absolute worst thing he could do was act like an asshole and alienate her. She was as alone as he was, her parents’ love tempered by expectations, her peers’ “friendship” tainted by jealousy and ambition. He and Nadia needed each other, now more than ever, and Nate was determined never to take her for granted again. That she’d stolen money from her parents for him after the way he’d acted showed just how good a friend she was, doing her all to help him find someone everyone but the two of them thought was guilty of murder.

Nate used the same escape route he’d used the night before, starting with the rather terrifying drop through the laundry chute. He had a jolt when he landed in the laundry room and found the lights on, but as far as he could tell, there was no one around. He let out a breath of relief, then made his way cautiously to the service stairs, feeling even more on edge than he had the night before.

He didn’t allow himself to relax until he was driving the purloined motorcycle out of the parking lot, opening up the throttle as much as he dared on the quiet streets. He wanted to put the little Ducati through its paces, maybe give himself a good adrenaline spike to chase away the last of the cobwebs in his head. Maybe he just wanted to remind himself that he was alive, when by all rights, he shouldn’t be. But calling attention to himself wasn’t part of the game plan.

By the time Nate arrived at Angel’s doorstep, it was past two in the morning. Prime time, in Debasement. The club was crowded, wall-to-wall people, and the predators were out full force. One pretty young hooker even tried to pick his pocket, which meant word had already spread that he’d paid the cover charge in dollars. Usually the predators ignored other Basement-dwellers and fixated on the more wealthy and less cautious Executive and Employee patrons. Nate caught the hooker’s wrist, trapping her with two fingers halfway into one of his jacket pockets. She was startlingly young, with tiny breasts barely hidden by her red halter top. Nate felt a twisting sensation in his gut. He’d seen some awfully young girls plying the sex trade at Angel’s club, but this one seemed little more than a child. Which was probably why she’d resorted to picking Nate’s pocket—she wasn’t experienced enough to stick to the lower-risk, higher-reward targets.

Nate clicked his tongue at her, still holding her wrist as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. But young though she might be, it had been a long time since this girl had been innocent by any definition of the word, and Nate could see the calculation behind the expression.

“How old are you?” he found himself asking, shouting the question over the music. She looked barely past puberty, but this was Debasement, and looks could be deceiving here. He could hope she was really an adult with exceptionally good makeup and some quality amateur plastic surgery.

“What’s it to you?” she asked, dropping the innocent look for one of sulky belligerence. She gave a little tug to see if she could free her wrist, but he kept hold. Her voice was clear and high, a little girl’s voice rather than a woman’s. “You plannin’ to give me a spanking?” The girl leered at him, moving closer, pressing her body up against his. “I’ll give you a freebie to make up for the, um, misunderstanding.”

Nate suppressed a shudder. He was quite sure that even if he were really into girls, he wouldn’t be tempted by this little Lolita wannabe. But maybe he could make her life easier for her, if just for one night. Making sure her free hand wasn’t doing anything it shouldn’t while she pressed up against him, he reached under his leather jacket and opened one of the zipper compartments, pulling out a hundred dollar bill and folding it into his palm.

“I’ll let you off with a warning,” he told her, trying to smile at her while thinking how unfair it was that being born reasonably pretty in Debasement had doomed her to this fate. If she’d been born to an Employee family, would she be a perfectly respectable schoolgirl, looking forward to a safe and happy life? And if he had been born in Debasement, what would his life look like right now?

Of course, now was a shitty time for philosophical, self-indulgent navel gazing.

“You work for Angel, right?” She had to work for Angel; Angel wouldn’t let someone this pathetic set foot in her club as a patron.

The girl stuck out her lower lip, but there was a flash of real fear in her eyes. “Please don’t say nothin’ to Angel. I was just … playin’.”

“I won’t tell Angel you tried to pick my pocket,” he assured her. He clasped her hand, letting her feel the money against her palm. “I just want to have a word with Angel, and don’t want to have to spend all night looking for her. Any chance you can let her know I’m here and looking?”

Cautiously, ready to grab her and take his money back if she tried to bolt, Nate let go. She took a step back from him, keeping a wary eye on him as she glanced at the bill in her hand. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped when she saw what she held.

“Tell Angel the Ghost wants to talk to her. I’ll be at the bar. I’ll give you another tip once I’ve seen her. Deal?”

The girl licked her lips, still wide-eyed. Maybe he’d gone overboard with his payment, but he wanted to think it was enough to give her a night or two off.

When had he decided to become a knight in shining armor?

“Do we have a deal, or don’t we?” he asked, more sharply than he intended. He didn’t like seeing the place he’d once thought of as an adult playground for what it really was, but it wasn’t fair to take it out on the girl.

She lifted her chin, and defiance flashed in her eyes. “Deal,” she said, then turned to head off into the crowd. She stuck the hand with the money in it into her tight, skimpy shorts, and he tried not to wonder how she protected her money when those shorts came off.

“Hey!” he called after her. She stopped, looking over her shoulder at him. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Why d’you care?”

Nate wondered if Kurt had been such a hard case at that age, then shook his head, trying not to picture his boyfriend as a child prostitute. They’d never talked about it, but Nate knew Kurt had gotten started young.

“I don’t,” he said, because it was what she expected. “I’m just curious.”

She thought about it a moment, then shrugged her skinny shoulders. “Petal.”