2015-08-21
386
Original Cindy nodded as he kept talking.
"The last thing, Original Cindy, is the entry fee. A show like this is expensive, so we have to charge our applicants in advance. Is that okay?" Robert asked.
"Yeah, I understand that. The application form said that you need $5,000?"
Robert nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. We hope that one day we'll be able to run this show without financial support."
"Hey, five large is a lot of money, but I'm plannin' on winnin' and gettin' back much more," Original Cindy smiled, while she took the envelope Logan had given her out of her pocket.
Robert took the money. "Thanks a lot. I hope we'll meet again soon."
"I hope so too," Original Cindy nodded. She shook both men's hands before she left the office.
Back in the elevator, she leaned against the mirror on the back wall and murmured, "That's it. I'm coming back."
In Logan's car in front of the building
"That's it. I'm coming back," Original Cindy's voice crackled through the speakers.
A minute later, the back door opened and Original Cindy climbed into the car. "What happened? You can cut the tension in this car with a knife!" she asked, watching Max and Logan in the front with a confused look.
"Nothing!" Max and Logan shot back in unison.
Jam Pony
Max pushed her bike down the ramp at Jam Pony and leaned it against the wall.
"Hey, missy, ready for the next run?" Normal shouted at her, but Max only waved her hand and went over to the tables. "Max, there are packages to be delivered!"
Finally she turned to Normal and shouted back, "I know, Normal. But even a transgenic can only take so many insults in a day. I'm on break."
Normal sighed, but he stopped shouting and answered the ringing telephone instead.
Max sat down next to Original Cindy and stretched out her arms.
"So many insults?" Original Cindy asked her.
Max grimaced. "Don't talk about it. Have you heard from the casting committee?"
"Nah, not yet. Want a sandwich?" Original Cindy offered. Before Max could answer, Normal shouted again.
"Hey, Original Cindy! There's somebody on the line, says he needs to talk to you."
Original Cindy jumped up and went over to her boss, giving Max a meaningful look. Before Normal could start, she told him, "Yeah, I know this is a business phone. Won't take long and I'm on my lunch break anyway."
She grabbed the phone and said, "Yeah?"
"Original Cindy?" a male voice asked.
"Who's this?"
"This is Michael Jones from Seattle Superstar. I called to tell you that you made it."
"I did?" Original Cindy asked, surprised, waving Max to come closer.
"You'll be on this week's show. Just make sure that you're on time. The show starts at five, so make sure you show up no later than four, okay?"
Original Cindy smiled. "Sure thing. Thanks for calling!"
When she hung up, she turned to Max, who stood next to her. "Overheard?"
Max nodded. "Yeah, so you're in?"
"I'm in. You gonna call Logan?"
Sector 5 - that afternoon
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gem asked Alec, who was walking along the street next to her.
"You got a better idea? We can't really afford to rent an office in the high-rise district, and I don't think we want to end up searching Seattle's newspapers for offices to rent, ‘cause we can't afford them either. Do you have a better idea than to walk around and look for a place to set up? If so, tell me."
Gem, who had stopped, groaned but sped up to stay next to him. She almost ran past him when he suddenly stopped.
"What do you think about this place?" Alec asked, gesturing toward the huge windows of an abandoned laundromat.
"You need to do the laundry?" Gem asked, raising her eyebrows.
"The perfect place, isn't it? Looks like a laundromat from the street, but I'm sure this place has got an office in the back. Let's check it out!" Alec didn't wait for Gem's reaction, but went to the back of the building and picked the lock of the back door to let himself in.
The room he stood in was indeed an office of some kind, or rather it used to be. There were some shelves and cabinets left, but most of the furniture had been destroyed. The table was broken, and files and papers were lying around. Alec stepped through the door on the other side--a pair of red swing doors with a round window in each one--and entered the room they had seen from the street. The washing machines had all seen better days, but most of them looked as if they could be repaired. When Alec flipped the light switch, green neon tubing flickered in the windows and made Gem, who had finally followed Alec, shiver.
"Huh, this light is horrible. And this place is a mess," she commented.
"We made Terminal City livable, so we can do it with this place, too," Alec told her.
"I have to admit that a laundromat has its advantages," Gem said. "Think of all the transgenics who don't know where to wash their clothes. They can do it here while we work in the back office."
Alec grinned. "I can already read it in the window: ‘Wash your clothes for $2.50 – 10% discount for transgenics'."
Gem aughed and nodded. "Yeah, something like that. So what are we gonna call our little business?"
"Aww, we can figure that out later," Alec answered. "But does that mean we're moving in?"
Gem smiled. "There's even a manhole out back. Joshua can use the manhole behind his house to come and visit."
"Yeah, Joshua come and visit." They heard a voice behind them and turned around to face the canine transhuman.
"Joshua?!" Gem asked surprised. "How did you get here?"
"Hiding in the shadows," he answered. "Needed to know where you're going. I like this place."
Gem nodded. "It's strange, but yeah, I like it too. So where are we going to start?" she asked. "We need to clean everything up, repair the things we need and throw away those we don't. But even though we can still use a lot of these things, I'm afraid there are investments to be made, and I don't have any money."
Joshua's face turned sad. "Joshua doesn't have any money either." Then his face lightened. "Maybe Alec can sell some of my paintings?"
Alec shook his head and winked. "Not necessary. I think I can provide up-front money. I've been dying to exercise the old breaking-and-entering skillset.So, we gonna get started?"
Gem and Joshua nodded, smiling in anticipation.
Joshua's House- evening
Joshua sat in the armchair in his living room and tried to read a book, but his eyes were always searching the window. Finally he stood up and walked over to it, staring out until he saw Gem coming home. She was carrying two big bags.
He went to the door and opened it to let her in, making sure he couldn't be seen from the street.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Hey, Joshua. Can you help me with these bags?"
"What's in there?" he asked.
"Stuff for the agency. Alec sent me shopping," she smiled, handing Joshua one of the bags.
He took it and followed Gem to the kitchen, where he put the bag on the table and returned to the living room. Gem stayed in the kitchen for a moment, watching Joshua leave, then followed him out.
Joshua was sitting in the armchair again, staring into space.
Gem stepped beside him. "What are you doing?" she wanted to know.
"Nothing," Joshua answered shortly.
"Why?" Gem continued asking.
"Because there's nothing for me to do. I tucked Elfie in and cleaned up the house."
"So why don't you read a book, or paint?" Gem suggested.
She stepped back when Joshua suddenly jumped up and gestured wildly.
"Because I'm bored with painting. It's the only thing I can do. Take care of Elfie and paint. I want to do more, but it's too dangerous out there. Mole's right--it'll always be the sewers for Joshua. Or the basement," he shouted angrily.
"But Joshua, it's..." Gem started, but her tall friend interrupted her.
"No, stop it. Joshua wants a job like Gem and Alec. I want to help set up the agency; I want to be a private investigator, too. Not only a babysitter."
Gem waited patiently for Joshua to calm down, and finally he stood in front of the window again, looking sad.
She put her hand on his arm and spoke quietly. "But it's not the right time, Joshua. Not yet. Right now you're helping me so much with taking care of Elfie. I wouldn't know how to do anything else if you weren't there," she assured her friend, who looked down at her. His look was still sad, but hope gleamed in his eyes.
"You think that one day I won't have to hide anymore?"
"Yeah, I believe that one day, transhumans will be equal members of American society," she said, smiling reassuringly. "But until then, you have to be careful. I promise, though, that you'll be our guest at the agency opening party."
"A party?" Joshua asked, surprised.
"Yeah, we're gonna have a party once everything's finished."
A smile crept up Joshua's face. "Cool."
ACT IV
Television Studio
"Ready?" Logan asked Original Cindy, as he pulled the Aztek up to the door of the studio.
"Be more ready if I was packin'," Original Cindy replied, shooting a pointed look at Max, who just smiled and shook her head.
"Chill, will ya? I told you, there's no way you could get a piece through security. You know I got your back. Now go, or you'll be late."
Cindy jumped out of the backseat of the car and gave them a sassy wave before heading into the building. Logan put the car in gear and drove around to the back, stopping behind a dumpster. "Your turn," he told Max. "I'll set up here."
He stuck his hand in his shirt pocket and came up with two comm links, one of which he handed to Max.
Max glanced down at their hands as he passed her the link, and then looked up, catching him doing the same thing. Their eyes locked for a moment.
Max leaned against the desk in Logan's computer room. Logan reached over and handed her a couple of comms. They held each other's hands for a moment.
"This will wait, right?" she asked, staring into his eyes.
"We have all the time in the world," he replied, smiling at her, his eyes promising her that and more.
Max shook herself free of the memory and took the comm from his hand, letting her fingers brush against his.
"Keep in touch," Logan said softly.
"Always," she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and hopping out. She stuck the comm link in her ear and headed away from the car, already in stealth mode. Keeping her eyes peeled, she headed to a steel door and tried the knob, but it was locked. "Great," she muttered.
"What?" Logan whispered in her ear through the comm.
"My lock-picking skills are kind of rusty," she told him. "Wasting time when I need to be in there, keeping an eye on things."
Despite her complaint, she got the door open in just a few seconds and crept inside. The door opened into a dark hallway, which she followed until she came to a large opening into the ventilation system. "Okay, you in yet?" she whispered to Logan.
"Yep. I'm blocking the signals from their security cameras and heat sensors, so they won't be able to spot you. Got a pretty fancy system for a TV show." Logan looked at his laptop and watched the red blob that was Max appear on a diagram of the building. "Okay, you can go in there, and I'll direct you to the backstage area. You should be able to come out on the catwalks there and stay hidden."
"Why do you always get to stay in the car and I get to crawl around in the air ducts?" Max asked him as she lifted the vent cover and crawled in.
The Green Room
Original Cindy was ushered into the guest waiting room by a surly man in a black suit, and she looked nervous until she caught sight of her fellow contestants. Then her slightly anxious look turned to serious irritation. "What are you doin' here, fool?"
"OC!" Sketchy, caught off-guard, turned his look of surprise into a broad smile and hurried over to her. "This is great! Why didn't you tell us you were gonna be on the show?"
"Me? What about you? You missin' a chance to try to impress the girls, something's gotta be up," Original Cindy snapped.
Sketchy grinned conspiratorially. "Yeah, I wanted to tell, but I'm—" he stopped and looked over his shoulder furtively, lowered his voice and continued, "—undercover. This is gonna be my big break. Max was always keeping me from reporting on the transgenics, so I went to my editor and asked him to get me on this show to do an exclusive feature – you know, behind the scenes? Show's so popular, I figured people would eat it up."
Original Cindy rolled her eyes and sighed. "And you just had to choose today, didn't you?"
"This is so cool," Sketchy continued, oblivious to her exasperation. "Hey, we gotta promise each other, we won't let this affect our friendship, okay?"
Original Cindy snorted. "Sketchy, look...just do me a favor – as soon as this is over, get the hell out of here, okay?"
His smile faltered. "Why? Why are you here, anyway? You freelancing too? 'Cause I know we're friends, but I can't let you steal my idea—"
"Don't tax your already-overburdened brain with the details," Original Cindy replied. "Just try to pay attention. You ain't gonna win, so soon as the confetti falls, make for the door and don't look back."
"What do you mean, I'm not going to win? You don't even know what my talent is," Sketchy said, sounding hurt.
Original Cindy started to say something, then stopped and looked at him. "Only talent you got is making a perfect 10 mess out of everything you get yourself into."
Catwalk Above Backstage
Max quietly opened the metal grate covering the air duct and slid out onto the catwalk. "Nice, Logan. Just like you said," she whispered.
"Did you expect anything less?" he answered distractedly, typing on the keyboard and staring at the laptop screen.
"Everything set up for the hack?" Max asked.
"Leave it to me," Logan told her with assurance. "Just cover Original Cindy."
"Piece of cake," Max told him. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was backstage, but she could see the stage from her vantage point above the ground. Max crept along the metal walkway, trying to stay inconspicuous. She found a dark corner to stand in, and crossed her arms, trying to get comfortable.
Main Stage
The contestants were led onto the stage fifteen minutes after Max arrived. She watched first the preparation, then the show as it unfolded. She stifled a yawn more than once as the host droned on and on, but perked up when the contestants began their talent routines. The first contestant was a pretty, young, Asian woman who sang a peppy pop tune while wearing a skimpy, sequined dress. Max watched Original Cindy roll her eyes, and laughed silently.
Next, Original Cindy was up. Max watched with glee as her friend sauntered up to the microphone and started cracking jokes. It took a few seconds to get the audience warmed up, but soon they were laughing and clapping after every few words.
"So why y'all think most women have such low self-esteem, and men think they the bomb, even though they ugly enough to make a dog keel over from a heart attack? Well, I'll tell you. It's 'cause all little girls play with Barbie. I mean, if this chick was real, she'd be seven feet tall and weigh 92 pounds. And 53 pounds of that would be her rack!" The audience cracked up, men hooting and women laughing in agreement.
"No wonder most women think animal control gonna throw a net over 'em and haul 'em off to the pound any minute. Meanwhile, little boys are playing with these tough-guy superheroes. I remember my brother had one that was half-man, half-bug, right? Okay, totally hideous, but he's kickin' some bad-guy butt, so he's cool. You can bet yo' ass he's not saying to the other bug guys, 'You think these wings make my hips look too big?'"
Max started to laugh, but stifled it as a stagehand walked right underneath her. He stopped and looked up, but he didn't see her in the shadows and kept going.
When Max turned her attention back to the stage, Original Cindy was still going strong. "My friend Herbal Thought used to have this expression – 'It's all good, all the time.' I'm tellin' you, didn't matter if he got fired, or his woman cheated on him, or one of his friends was trapped inside a hotel, being held hostage by a madman. It was 'all good, all the time.' But see, my man was a bit of a pothead. You eat enough of those 'magic' brownies, and sure enough, things look 'all good,' you know what I'm saying?" she asked with an exaggerated wink at the audience.
"...Well, we got some good news and some bad news the other day. The good news is, Congress says they only gonna raise taxes on the rich folks. Bad news is, they tellin' us now we all rich!" The crowd tittered. "Well, damn! Wish they'd 'a told me I was rich! Here I thought I was livin' in a condemned building 'cause I couldn't afford to pay rent. Come to find out, these suckers in Congress think all us squatters are 'ghetto chic.' Know what? I think they been eatin' too many of my man Herbal's magic brownies!"
The bell sounded, signaling that time was up, and Original Cindy took a bow while the audience roared with laughter and clapped loudly. She passed Sketchy on the way back, and smiled at him. "Top that, sucka."
Max's eyes grew wide as she watched Sketchy open a large instrument case and pull out a beautifully shined and obviously expensive cello. He sat on a chair that they had brought out and began playing a haunting classical melody. Max watched Original Cindy's mouth drop open in shock, and they both listened, dumbfounded, to Sketchy's flawless performance.
When it was over, the audience went wild. It was obvious that Sketchy was the favorite. Max muttered to herself, "Hope Logan knows what he's doing." In preparation, she started to move into position so she'd be ready for anything once the show was over. She found a ladder in a corner and started climbing down. Once at the edge of the stage, she slipped behind a curtain and kept her ears alert.
The audience voted, and after a few minutes, the host announced the winner. "Mr. Calvin Theodore, for his bravura performance on the cello! You're our grand-prize winner!"
Behind the curtain, Max's mouth dropped open in shock. "Logan!" she whispered furiously. No response. She tapped the comm. "Logan!" she hissed again, more loudly this time.
Suddenly the curtain was yanked back, and Max found herself face-to-face with one of the burly stagehands, a goateed, muscled man in a black tee shirt. "What are you doing?" he asked angrily. The noise of the audience and the show's ending music drowned him out.
Max smiled winningly. "Uh, sorry, guess I got lost on the way to the bathroom," she stammered.
"No audience is allowed backstage," he growled, and grabbed her arm.
Max looked over toward the stage, then back at the stagehand. "Sorry, buddy, I can't go with you. I got my homegirl's back, you know?" She forcibly removed his arm from hers, then elbowed him in the mouth. She started to move toward the stage, but she was soon surrounded by several more goons. Sighing, she began kicking and fighting.
When the last goon fell, Max looked around and saw Original Cindy running over to her. "Come on, girl, we gotta go. Sketchy's gone."
"Damn it," Max swore. "Which way did they go?"
Back Entrance
Logan sat cursing his computer. "Max?" he spoke into the comm, with no response. He brought up another screen, filled with a wavy green line, similar to a heart monitor. "Their transmissions are blocking our comm frequency," he muttered.
He continued to type furiously, but nothing seemed to be working. He exhaled impatiently, then looked up as he saw a door open. He peered more closely through the dim glow of a single streetlight and saw three big guys in black tee shirts hurry a fourth person out of the building. "What the hell..." he breathed, as Sketchy's face came into view. The men quickly shoved Sketchy into the back of a black van.
"Max?" Logan repeated, but again there was only silence. He looked around for a second, trying to make up his mind. As the van pulled away, he put the Aztek in gear, following at a safe distance.
Sector 8, near the docks
Logan followed the van to a section of Seattle near the waterfront. The broken-down warehouses looked almost as derelict as Terminal City, although the area was not fenced off or restricted.
The van turned sharply and vanished into one of the buildings. Logan pulled into an alley and parked the Aztek in the shadows. He made sure the exoskeleton was securely in place, then reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a gun.
"Max?" He tried to reach Max over his comm, but was met by silence. Leaving the transmit button turned on, he checked to be sure his gun was loaded, with the safety off, and began to make his way to the spot where he had seen the van vanish. There was a scuttling noise, and Logan looked down to see a rat nearly the size of a housecat run across his foot. The creature paused and looked at him with beady, glinting eyes, but when he made a shooing motion in its direction, it quickly disappeared into the shadows.
The ground was littered with trash and Logan walked carefully, keeping to the shadows of the buildings, trying to avoid stepping on anything that might give away his presence. When he reached the building into which the van had driven, he cautiously peered around the front of it.
There were no guards in sight, and he slowly slid around the corner, hugging the wall, until he reached the opening. There was no door remaining, and the opening to the building was a gaping black hole.
"Max?" Logan whispered once more, only to be met with silence. He tightened his grip on his gun and entered the warehouse, staying close to the walls, making his way by feeling along the wall with his free hand.
"Logan? Where are you?" Max's voice came across the comm. "What happened?"
"The broadcast blocked my transmissions and stopped me from hacking the show. I saw three goons come out with Sketchy and throw him into a van, so I followed them to a warehouse about two blocks from the water in Sector 8. It's off Elliott Avenue near the docks around 15th Avenue."
"I'll get there as fast as I can." Max paused. "Logan, be careful. Don't take any chances."
"I won't." As they were speaking, Logan had made his way to the back of the warehouse. There was a wooden partition in front of him and he could hear voices on the other side.
"What are we waiting for? Why not just waste him already?"
"Morrie thought he saw a car behind us as we pulled in here. I sent him out to check."
There was a soft click, and Logan felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his back.
"Drop your piece, hands up, and walk straight ahead, buddy." The voice was a growl in his ear. Logan complied and his unseen captor pushed him forward around the partition. Sketchy was slumped in a chair, hands and legs bound, with a blindfold over his eyes.
Two men stood nearby.
Alley, Outside the Broadcast Studios
"Drop your piece, hands up, and walk straight ahead, buddy."
Max cursed silently as she heard Logan's captor's voice come over her comm. "OC, I gotta blaze...can you find a ride home?"
"Sure thing, sugah."
Max was gone before the words were out of Original Cindy's mouth, running in a blur down the alley. She reached the main street and spotted what was clearly a biker bar, with about twenty Harleys parked outside. Within moments, she had one hotwired and she peeled out, sending the bike roaring across Seattle. When a sector checkpoint loomed in front of her, she simply ignored it and kept going, giving the officers on duty no time to do more than run out and stare after her smoking exhaust trail.
When she reached the location Logan had given her, Max leaned the bike she had liberated against the alley wall beside the Aztek. She focused her night vision and ran down the block to the warehouse that seemed like the most likely candidate, based on Logan's description. In the growing dark, her speed, combined with her black catsuit, made her nearly invisible to any watching eyes. When she reached the warehouse, she stopped and cautiously looked into the opening.
Warehouse in Sector 8
"Told ya we was followed," Logan's captor growled.
"Who is he?"
"Undercover cop, maybe?" The three looked Logan over. One of them gave him a cursory pat-down, being careful not to get in the way of the gun his partner was holding on Logan.
"He's clean. Except for this." He yanked the comm out of Logan's ear and threw it on the floor, grinding it underneath his boot.
The one who seemed to be in charge looked him up and down. "Damn. Wonder who he was wired to."
"What do we do, Rennie?" the third man spoke. "Waste him along with the other one?"
"Probably, but I gotta check in with the boss first." Rennie turned and spoke directly to Logan. "Who you working with? Sector pigs? Feds?"
