The Rule of Luck (2 page)

No, enough of this. What was I thinking? I had a boyfriend. I had plans for the future. In an hour, my whole world could change. And yet…

I stood. He stood with me. Even in my metal-clad high-heeled boots, my eyes were barely level with his shoulder. I felt feminine in ways I hadn't in years. The air felt charged with potential. My gut jerked again, reminding me to act before the moment disappeared. What the hell did it want me to do? Jump him? Rip his clothes off?

He held out his hand. I shook it. It swallowed mine. “Thank you, Felicia. I know how I need to conduct my future affairs now.”

I froze when he said my name. Not that him knowing it was a surprise; it was how he'd said it. If I tried to describe it I'd sound crazy. He said it like he knew me. Or, had made it his business to know me. Or, planned on knowing me so well, I would someday learn what his body pressed against mine would actually feel like.

I flushed and released his hand as if it burned. “Feel free to leave your payment on the way out.”

He laughed and a bolt of heat shot through me. “As I said earlier, my people can ensure you make your appointment at the clinic if you're concerned about time.”

Again, I should have been terrified. If he contacted One Gov, getting arrested would be the least of my problems. Yet I had the oddest feeling that whatever this stranger knew, he'd keep it to himself. Still, I had to make some sort of a token protest, didn't I? “My private schedule is just that—private. I understand your investigating my flat-file avatar on the CN-net. Many clients do and access is always open. However, any personal information I've logged is off-limits. I would appreciate it if you left my shop now.”

He seemed amused instead of angry. “My apologies. I'm glad to have made your acquaintance. Hopefully, we will have other dealings in the future.”

Gut feeling be damned, I sincerely hoped not. However, I must not have managed to school my expression well enough since he added, “Despite what you may believe, the future isn't decided yet. There are always gray areas left to explore.”

He turned on his heel to leave. Bemused, I followed. Outside, I found two personal bodyguards—all muscle and matching suits. They fell into step behind him as he continued down the sidewalk to the street. I saw four more musclemen at either end of the block, and a helicon hovering overhead in the dull gray sky. Street-side were two flight-limos ready for takeoff, one with its windows down. I could see the pilot in front while in back sat a gorgeous redhead. My mouth fell open. I know it did—just open and flapping in the breeze.

He paused before he climbed inside the first flight-limo. “Ms. Sevigny, you'll find my payment inside, as well as my halo should you need to get in touch. Your reputation is well deserved. Feel free to use me as a reference.”

With that, he got into the flight-limo. I saw the redhead attempt to climb onto his lap and watched him push her away before the windows rolled up. The security detail ducked into the second flight-limo as the helicon zipped away. In a few seconds, the street was empty.

I ran back inside. On the reception desk was a blue chip wafer used to transfer funds between locked CN-net accounts. It was old tech, the kind used by people who didn't have direct CN-net t-mods. People like me. I tapped its face and the readout displayed an obscene amount of money. I charged seventy gold notes a reading. The readout said ten thousand—very near to the amount that had been in the savings account I'd recently decimated. I almost fainted. Beside the chip was the promised halo. Like the blue chip, it was also old tech. I touched it and watched the name unfurl in bold script.

So I'd been right about the accent. I knew the name. Who didn't? I'd just never seen his face. He rarely surfaced in public, and when he did, he came and went like smoke.

Alexei Petriv. Crown Prince of the Tsarist Consortium—though “crime lord” and “thug” would also be accurate descriptors. Robin Hood too, in some circles. Thorn in the side of One Gov. Pirate of the tri-system. In my office. Wanting a reading. The need to faint grew stronger. So did the feeling in my gut.

I had a terrible suspicion I was about to be made an offer I could not refuse.

I'm not sure how long I stood in the doorway to my shop feeling slightly unhinged while the c-tex bracelet shimmered and vibrated on the reception desk. No doubt it was Roy, checking in. I picked it up, tapped the screen, and the holo popped up.

Sure enough, Roy's image appeared. His sandy-blond hair was in desperate need of trimming, as usual. Conventionally cute, his appearance fell within One Gov specs—tallish, broad-shouldered, decent build, nice brown eyes. He always seemed worried and concerned about me, a trait I'd once thought adorable. Lately it made me wonder why he never loosened up. Then again, working undercover for the MPLE (Mars Planetary Law Enforcement), or on the Earth-to-Mars drug trafficking cases he took on, would give anyone reason to worry. Today he looked annoyed, which was also, unfortunately, normal. He hated that a face-chat shim with me meant using an antiquated charm-tex bracelet rather than a direct synapse hookup to the Cerebral Neural net. He claimed I was the only person he knew who wasn't chipped. He was probably right; my family had severe tech phobia. But even if I wanted One Gov sponsored free tech modifications, or t-mods as they were known, it was too late. The first implants had to be done before puberty. And if I was bitter about missing out on the advantages that came with the upgrades…well, there was no point crying over what I couldn't change.

“Hey, babe. Still at the shop at this hour? You're usually finishing up when the rest of the city is just starting. Thought you'd be home by now.” He made the last part a question.

“Just leaving. I had a last minute walk-in I couldn't ignore.”

He snorted. “Figures. You work too hard.” In the background I saw various buildings, but not enough to pinpoint his location. Somewhere in the city center.

“I have to if I want this shop to succeed. You know my family will be the first to say ‘I told you so' if there's even a whiff of failure.”

He cracked a wide grin. “True. I've experienced the Sevigny clan's displeasure firsthand. Not something I'd care to repeat.”

My family loathed Roy. Never mind their inherent suspicion of anything law-enforcement related; they also felt he wasn't good enough for me. Sometimes, I agreed. Other times, being with him felt safer than throwing my heart out there for anyone to stomp on. Mine had already been stomped on once. I didn't need a repeat performance. “I have a couple errands to run, so don't worry if you can't reach me. After that, I'm crashing for the rest of the day. I should be home by noon.”

“I hope your idiot business partner hasn't gotten you into something sketchy.”

“If Charlie Zero needs me to do something that benefits the shop, I'll do it.”

He made a dismissive grunt. “Hey, I'm not shimming to fight. I'm just reminding you about date night. It's your turn to pick the place.”

I almost swore out loud. Roy and I had aligned our schedules so we'd have a night off together every two weeks. That was tonight, and I'd completely forgotten. “Already picked,” I lied. “Just sit back and be surprised.”

“Looking forward to it, babe. Sorry, gotta go. Just got a ping from headquarters. I'll shim when I'm free. Love you.”

“Love you back.” I broke the link without waiting for a reply. Now I had to worry about date night on top of everything else! Fuck. It was almost funny—Alexei Petriv, a complete stranger, knew my plans better than Roy did. It didn't say much for my current state of affairs.

I slapped the bracelet back on my arm. Immediately, it fluttered. Gods, now what? No face-chat shim this time—only a voice and a cloudy screen. Apparently my appointment had just decided to reach out to me. A tingle of fear raced up my spine.

“Have you hailed the Y-Line?” I was asked without preamble.

I swallowed. I couldn't tell if the voice was male or female. “Yes, I'm leaving now.”

“Location code?”

I scrambled to find the information for the pod I'd booked. “Launchpad 16. Pod 2176.”

I could hear a beep in the background. “Location confirmed. Courtyard Office Center. Mayfair Fertility Clinic. Meeting time, nine hundred hours. Payment transfer received.”

I said nothing. The payment had dissolved my savings. Then I recalled the gold notes from Alexei Petriv. If my gut had feet, it would have kicked me.

“Worried?” the voice asked.

“Of course not. I do stuff like this every day before breakfast.” Well, truthfully, with the shop hours I kept, my breakfast tended to be everyone else's dinner time, but that was no one's business but my own.

“I assure you nothing will go wrong.”

“So you've said, but none of this guarantees the blacklisted status will be wiped from my fertility record.”

“Now seems a little late for doubt, don't you think?”

The voice was right, and I wasn't naïve. I might be scared, but my future with Roy depended on the next few hours. “I know, but I've never broken the law before. Well, not like this anyway.”

“Trust me: all will go according to plan.” The voice cut out.

I sighed, letting the air out slowly so I wouldn't hyperventilate. I had the basics of the plan, but none of its specifics. What I knew included making an appointment at the local One Gov–controlled fertility clinic to speak with an Arbiter—standard practice for anyone with a fertility dispute. However, how I'd alter the record to remove my blacklisted status was beyond me. It was risky, but if I wanted to participate in the Shared Hope program, this was my only choice.

When One Gov came to power during the Dark Times, they followed through on their promise of prosperity and equality for all. Unfortunately, some felt their legislation turned humanity into a flock of sheep. Maybe four hundred years ago we'd needed that direction. But now, One Gov took issue with those they felt weren't well-behaved citizens, and it often meant losing out on things like career choice, housing selection, or calorie-consumption allocation. Or in my case—for reasons I didn't know—access to the Shared Hope program.

The Shared Hope program meant one child per couple, with One Gov providing subsidies until the child turned eighteen, then guaranteed living space and full citizenship rights until death. And nowadays, death was further away than ever, thanks to the Renew treatments. Unfortunately, long life put a strain on resources. So did the fact that once the last of the ice caps melted and water covered many of the most populated cities on Earth, humanity was left scrambling for what space remained. And based on the history I'd read, that scrambling wasn't pretty once countries began closing their borders to refugees fleeing the rising waters. My family was damn lucky to end up in Nairobi thanks to my great-grandparents' foresight and Granny G's Tarot cards. They moved to high-altitude, cash-strapped Kenya before the mass exodus happened throughout the world. Many others lost everything, including the ability to keep going in the face of such disaster.

The Shared Hope program was the only thing keeping the world in balance. It was open to everyone and ensured valuable genetic material wasn't lost, while keeping population growth in check. If you didn't like it, then you were welcome to try your luck elsewhere in the tri-system. If you were rich enough, moving to Mars was a viable option. And if you were desperate enough, you could try life on Venus. Full colonization of Venus had only begun in the last hundred years, and there were many who felt a trip to hell might be more fun.

It all made perfect rational sense, except why should I be blacklisted without explanation? What happened to One Gov's stance on equality for all? I should be eligible to have a baby just like any other woman. And after today, I would. The Tarot had said as much, and the cards never lied. Alexei Petriv might believe the future still had gray areas, but the feeling in my gut said otherwise. This was my last chance and I had to take it.

Ah, hell. The day I took advice from Russian gangsters was no doubt the day my world ended. Hurriedly I grabbed my belongings, locked the shop, and rushed out to meet my future.

The Y-Line was Nairobi's answer to mass transit. Unfortunately, “A brilliant design with poor execution” was the most complimentary thing anyone could say. Whatever the case, the grids were always clogged, the pods never arrived on time, and you rarely got exactly what you ordered. I'd ordered my pod twenty minutes ago and there was still no sign of it.

I waited on the crowded launch platform, tapping an anxious toe and peering up at a gritty looking sky that promised rain. The first wet season of the year loomed around the corner, so we'd be inundated for the next month. Luckily, my shop on Night Alley lay outside the city's flood plain. It was also one of the nicer streets in the city. Though today, the city cleaners had yet to hose away the latest gang signs inked on the cracked gray tile around me. Hopefully my pod would be in better condition. Sometimes pods came filled with garbage, vomit, excrement, or worse. The auto-cleaners handled that, but the system existed in a constant state of breakdown. Even if I got a half-decent pod, it might be double-booked—which was how I'd met Roy. It wasn't immediate attraction, but he made me laugh and wore me down until I agreed to see him again. At that point in my life, funny and sweet overrode passionate. I'd already lived through a relationship with all the passion I could handle—the kind where you don't think you can even breathe if he's not with you. So when it ended and I realized I had to keep on breathing regardless, I decided I didn't want more of that in my future.

My toe tapping increased. I couldn't seem to calm myself. Worse, I couldn't pinpoint the reason for my anxiety. Was it the man I'd just left, the situation I was about the hurl myself into, or the man waiting at home? Maybe all three.

I tried analyzing my reaction to Alexei Petriv. It wasn't entirely sexual, more like a feeling that being with him, or at least following where he led, was the right thing to do. Others in my family had similar experiences—moments where we stood at a crossroads and instinct told us which way to choose. We talked about them whenever we got together at family functions, rare events now as we became more scattered throughout the tri-system. We found the instinct varied in strength and regularity, depending on the situation or person. To us, the gut feeling was just another sense letting us see the world a little more clearly when making decisions. You never knew how it would turn out, but it always felt like the most appropriate action at the time. But with Petriv…the feeling had been extreme. Then, the identical card reading…I'd done what I could to appease my gut feeling, yet somehow it felt like I'd made the wrong decision. Maybe I should have confronted him instead of letting him walk away. Well, what did it matter now? I'd probably never see him again.

A few more minutes of toe tapping before a swarm of pods arrived at the open-air receiving bay. I always thought the pods looked like gigantic gray sperm, tails cocked in the air to connect with the magnetic slide overhead. The fact that I traveled to and from work each day inside a giant sperm pod while I had no control over my own fertility issues was the sort of irony that could make a girl tear her hair out. Somewhere in the tri-system, I bet a team of design engineers secretly giggled up their sleeves.

I caught my name flashing across the scroll above the door of the last pod, and my c-tex bracelet fluttered. People around me groaned—a tired looking mother with a squalling two-year-old; a businessman who seemed frazzled and out of time; a couple of Net spacers no doubt late for the next space elevator launch, their matching One Gov uniforms giving them away. I sympathized; I'd experienced more than my fair share of late pods.

I skittered across the slippery tiles to the pod and settled into one of the four seats. The door closed with a gentle sucking sound and I turned to set my belongings on the empty seat beside me. Except, it wasn't empty.

I jumped, swore, and barely missed cracking my head on the low ceiling. “What the hell…? I didn't even see you!”

The occupant looked at me. “Perhaps you should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Wonderful. I'd been up to my neck in cocky attitudes for hours. No reason the trend shouldn't continue. “You're my contact?”

“So it would seem.”

I regarded my traveling companion while I fought for calm. Male. Or, possibly female. Sometimes they appeared so gender neutral I honestly couldn't tell. Fair-skinned with graying black hair cut in an unflattering bowl shape, weak and unremarkable facial features—odd, given that beauty was commonplace, preferred, and available at any price. Yet, this face was also forgettable. Combine the bland face with a green-gray pantsuit that could be either business or casual depending on the light and you wouldn't be able to describe this person ten minutes after meeting them.

“Ms. Sevigny, I presume? You may call me Mr. Pennyworth.”

Well, that settled that. Maybe. “Hopefully it will be nice to have met you, Mr. Pennyworth.”
Depending how the day goes
, I added silently.

“I've taken the liberty of putting the pod recording system on an infinity loop so we may discuss our business privately. With you not being directly linked to the CN-net, relaying information is challenging.”

I shrugged. “My family doesn't trust t-mods. My great-grandmother called them bad juju. Besides, they're a liability in my line of work. If I can sift all the net-dump into my head with an e-blink, who's going to believe anything I tell them when I do a reading?”

“But you must concede it comes in handy. Otherwise, you wouldn't rely on that antiquated tech.” His eyes drifted to the silver charm-tex bracelet clipped around my left wrist. Once, it had been the height of technology. Now, my tech-med struggled to keep it operational.

“I'll give you that one. A girl's got to keep up somehow.” I frowned, not sure I could continue making small talk with a thief and con man who held my entire future in his hands. “So when do I get the details on this secret plan that's cost me a small fortune?”