The Android Chronicles Book One: The Android Defense (30 page)

“That was terrifying,” she
said.

“I kind of like it,” Damian
said. “But that’s probably not a surprise to you.”

“No,” Mandelie said. “Not at
all.”

“The party’s this way,”
Damian said.

He took her hand and they
walked towards one of the ballrooms on the floor of the Four
Seasons. Mandelie noticed a few other photographers lurking in the
lobby and snapping pictures of them.

The immense ballroom was
packed with people – Adventis staffers, celebrities, and notable
people in the technological innovation world. A DJ was spinning
music from a high platform over the crowd. The room seemed to be
decorated with a futuristic theme, with waiters dressed in silver
costumes handing out refreshments all over the room, giant computer
screens hanging on the walls flashing images of people in the room,
and a few X-droids gyrating in transparent globes hanging from the
ceiling.

“Do you want a drink?”
Damian said.

Without waiting for her to
answer he took two glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter and
gave one to her.

“Cheers,” he said. “To us
finally having a drink together.”

Mandelie laughed. She
clinked her glass against his.

“I try to stay away from the
dance floor,” Damian said. There were hundreds of people who were
dancing underneath the DJ.

“I’m not really in a dancing
mood, anyway,” Mandelie said.

“I’m glad you came,” Damian
said. “But I’m not going to keep you here. It’s too much, I know.
I’m just going to say hi to a few people and then we’ll get out of
here, okay?”

“Great,” Mandelie
said.

She stayed back as Damian
moved through the crowds and greeted a few other notable people in
the technological field. He conversed with them for a few minutes
and then came back to her.

“Let’s go,” he
said.

“I don’t want to drag you
away from your own party,” Mandelie said. “If you want to stay,
I’ll ask Trista to come pick me up.”

“I don’t want to stay,”
Damian said. “I’m just making an appearance. It’s not a big
deal.”

He took her hand and they
walked out of the ballroom. Mandelie was relieved to see that the
herd of photographers had mostly gone.

Damian waved to the valet
and in a few minutes his Maserati was parked by the curb
again.

He opened the door for
Mandelie and after she got in he got into the driver’s
seat.

The Maserati roared away,
leaving the hotel behind them.

“What do you feel like
doing?” Damian said. “Want to get some food?”

“I’m not really hungry,”
Mandelie said. “I enjoyed the party though. Maybe another time. Can
you take me back to my place?”

“Of course,” Damian
said.

When they reached her
apartment Damian parked the car and walked Mandelie to her
door.

“Thanks for coming with me,”
he said. “I really liked spending that time with you.”

“Me too,” Mandelie said.
“Thanks for inviting me.”

She looked up at
him.

Damian hesitated and then he
kissed her.

Mandelie stepped into him
and felt his arms wrap around her. She felt blood roaring in her
head and a dizzying, falling sensation as though she was plummeting
without stop, but she did not want the sensation to stop. It
seemed, neither did Damian.

Somehow she managed to get
the door open and she and Damian stumbled into her living room,
without stopping the kiss.

“Where’s the bed?” Damian
managed to say.

They fell on top of it,
Damian pulling Mandelie’s dress down from her shoulders. Mandelie
unbuttoned his shirt and felt him all around her, his hands on her
bare skin. She ran her hands down his back and felt the black metal
plate as it generated a surge of heat that exploded into her body
and transformed her insides to fire.

“Don’t stop,” she said.
“Don’t stop.”

Chapter 9.

The morning light fell on
Mandelie’s face. She opened her eyes, feeling dizzy and
light-headed, but traitorously exhilarated.

Damian was lying behind her,
his arm thrown over her side.

Mandelie rolled over and
turned to him.

Damian’s face was peaceful
and extraordinarily handsome. As though sensing she was looking at
him he opened his eyes.

“That was unbelievable,” he
said.

Mandelie said nothing. Her
exhilaration had died away and she was left with a sickening
feeling of guilt.

“Hey,” Damian said. “Don’t
feel bad.”

He wrapped his arms around
her and pulled her against him.

“We don’t need to tell him.
I’m glad we did this. You don’t know how glad.”

Mandelie bit her lip. She
looked into his green eyes.

Damian kissed her and she
kissed him back.

Dabya had been anticipating
the arrival of one particular guest to the palace. When she was
notified that he was waiting for her in the rotunda, she quickly
went to him, dressed in a sophisticated suit.

Gustaf looked tall and even
paler and stranger than ever in a dark suit. He was looking around
the surrounds of the palace with approval.

As Dabya came to him he
bowed in a jerky way.

“An honor to meet you, Your
Highness,” he said, his usual curt manner slightly more smoothed
over. “You are a pillar of the society.”

“It is an honor to meet you,
Mr. President,” Dabya said, holding her hand out to him. Gustaf
hesitated and then took her hand and kissed the back of it
peremptorily.

With the guards looking on,
Dabya sat in a chair set out for her, and indicated one opposite
her.

“Please, sit,” she
said.

Gustaf sat.

“I wished to come in person
today and introduce myself to you,” he said. “It is something I am
doing for the most esteemed members of the Society.”

“I am delighted to be so
noticed,” Dabya said.

From a banister overlooking
them but out of sight, Luke listened to the conversation, his
composure tense and alert.

“I am curious to know of
your plans for the society,” Dabya said. “I have been a member of
it ever since I was nineteen, you know. It is a great, though
confidential part of my life.”

“I have a number of plans in
motion,” Gustaf said. “And more than a number of them may need the
backing of the Society’s pillars.”

Dabya smiled.

“Of course I would endeavor
to help,” she said.

“A Princess’s endeavor is a
great thing,” Gustaf said. “I am at present involved in
commissioning the building of a secure complex in Stockholm. I
intend it to be used for the construction of androids. A collection
of my own designs.”

“The Swedes are so
forward-thinking,” Dabya said, with a smile.

Gustaf’s pale eyes deflected
the compliment, as they did any of those kind received.

“I would be pleased to have
your participation,” he said.

“You are inviting me to have
a direct but covert hand in the manufacture of androids?” Dabya
said. “Just the mention of it gives me a thrill. I have never been
able to indulge my technological ambitions in public life, as you
know.”

“Yet those ambitions must
not be wasted. Your involvement will be treated with the most
ironclad secrecy,” Gustaf said. “Will you lend your esteemed hand
to this first act of my presidential tenure?”

“I would be ashamed of
myself not to stand behind our new president,” Dabya said, with a
smile. Then she remembered Luke’s words.

“But I must give it some
thought,” she said finally. “There are many demands on my time at
present.”

“Of course Your Grace’s time
would be much in demand,” Gustaf said.

“Yet the Society remains at
the forefront of my pursuits,” Dabya said. “I will strive to be of
assistance to you.”

“I await your answer,”
Gustaf said.

He rose and was escorted
away by the guards.

Dabya exhaled, looking
uncertain.

“You did the right thing,” a
voice behind her said.

Dabya turned to
Luke.

“You were listening?” she
said. She did not seem offended or surprised.

“Fortunately androids can
easily discard the importance of manners when it’s necessary,
unlike human,” Luke said.

He put his hand on the back
of her chair.

“You did the right thing,
not accepting his invitation,” he repeated. “All that remains is to
refuse it absolutely.”

“I still think your attitude
towards the society is incredulous,” Dabya said. “I cannot simply
turn my back on them just because you want me to do it. It would be
… offending a great many people in high places.”

Luke knelt before her and
looked up into her eyes.

“Your great agility at small
talk cannot mask your human instinct, Dabya. If yours is telling
you that Gustaf Jorg might be a threat if you stand in the way of
his plans, you would be right. But that is one of the reasons I’m
here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Dabya drew in her breath.
She rose and brushed past him like a whispering wind.

“I have my guards, Luke. No
one is asking that of you.”

Chapter 10.

It was evening when Damian
finally left Mandelie’s apartment and returned to his villa. He was
about to walk up the stairs to his room when he heard a huge
sneeze.

Carlie was lying on a couch
in his living room, covered with blankets. Despite having assembled
the Adventis party herself, she had caught a cold at the last
moment and been unable to attend. Her eyes were red and puffy and
she had used up at least four tissue boxes that lay empty around
the couch. Her iPad had slid off the couch and lay face-down on the
floor.

Carlie pressed another
tissue to her face as Damian sat down beside her and sneezed
again.

“Bless you,” Damian said.
“How are you feeling?”

Carlie looked at him, a
little taken aback. Damian usually avoided people who were sick
like a nobleman avoiding peasants with leprosy. He had practically
quarantined her in his living room when she had caught her cold,
communicating with her only through the safe distance of his cell
phone.

“Terrible,” she said, and
sneezed a third time.

Damian put his hand on her
forehead.

“You’ve got a temperature,”
he said. “I’ll get some ibuprofen for you and ask the maid to bring
you some soup.”

“You’re being nice, and
human,” Carlie said. “I must be hallucinating this.”

Damian smiled.

“The party was great,” he
said. “You should be proud. Don’t worry about anything. You can
recover on my couch as long as you want.”

He kissed her lightly on her
forehead and went up the stairs to his room.

Carlie sneezed.

“Good night, imaginary
Damian,” she said aloud.

Mandelie had been able to
dismiss her sense of guilt when Damian was with her, but when he
had gone she was filled with dread, confusion, and uncertainty. She
could not swear to herself that she had made a mistake. She had
felt things with Damian that she had never felt before – a
sensation of being thrillingly alive and complete, of a magnetic
connection. And he was a human being, albeit one she had thought
she despised only two days earlier. He was not an android whose
motives she sometimes did not understand and mistrusted.

Thought it should have felt
wrong, she knew that all it felt was right. But what about Luke?
Her feelings for him had not changed in any way.

She huddled up on the couch
in her living room, trying to sort out her predicament. Finally she
steeled herself and called Trista.

Trista arrived a half an
hour later, looking curious.

“What’s going on?” she said,
as she dropped down on the couch as well.

“I need to tell you
something and I desperately need you not to judge me,” Mandelie
said. “Promise me you won’t.”

“Okay,” Trista said. “I
promise.”

“I slept with Damian,”
Mandelie said in a rush.

Trista looked at her
blankly. She seemed to be speechless.

“Say something,” Mandelie
said.

“You didn’t,” Trista said.
“You did?”

Mandelie nodded.

“He took me to the Adventis
party last night, and when we came back, it just happened,” she
said. “And I let it happen. I think I wanted it to
happen.”

She shook her head
slowly.

“I am a terrible human
being. I am, right?”

“Hold on,” Trista said. “You
don’t judge yourself, either. Even though I’m in complete shock
right now and I’m not really sure what’s up or down anymore or if
the world isn’t actually flat, there’s a tiny part of me – and I
can’t believe there is – that isn’t surprised.”