Page 29 of Seductive Architect
The ball landed in the twenty-five-point hole. Was he programmed to be reserved? If Connie had a body, she’dhave calculated the amount of force, the curvature of the lane, and the impact of the temperature. I doubt she’d do anything but get a perfect score.
“How long have you lived in Vanguard?”
“My whole life.” Too neat. Too easy. It sounded programmed. The next ball came close to the one-hundred-point hole, but fell into the fifty. When the tickets spit out, Hudson’s hips moved in a circle. Killing machines didn’t do victory dances. Or at least, that’s not how I would have programmed them.
“Me, too,” I said. “I went to elementary school down the street.” I hadn’t thought about those early years in a long time. “We used to have talent shows every other month. It gave the kids a chance to show off their hobbies.”
“Did you take apart the toaster?”
My companion was observant enough to notice that I had an affinity for machines. I wonder how much of that information had been stored and correlated? Had he figured out what Secret Identities did, or worse yet, who I was on the street?
“I did magic.”
He stopped mid-throw. “Magic?” My unpredictable response caused him to raise an eyebrow. I wish I could reach inside his brain and hear the machines struggling to make connections. While they frantically attempted to tie a red string between non-sequiturs, I had to chuckle.
“I used to show up at school with a cape and top hat. My dad even made me a magic wand. You can say I was the odd one as a kid.”
“Odd isn’t a bad thing.” He flashed that grin, and my brain slowed, and my heart surged. “It makes you unique.”
“I still have the wand.” I froze. This wasthe first time Itold anybody about my adventures as a miniature wizard. I thought I’d go to the grave before admitting I kept the wand hidden in the back of my bedroom closet. “If you ever tell another soul?—”
He held his fingers to his lips, turning the imaginary key. “Your secret dies with me.”
Hudson defied expectations. If hewerea super soldier, he possessed more humanity than actual humans. Or maybe this part of his programming is what made him the perfect soldier. Every time I got lost in my head, he’d say something that put my head and heart at odds with one another. Did he excel in psychological warfare? That’d be downright diabolical.
“What about you? Any embarrassing secrets from grade school?” I genuinely hoped he had an answer, programmed or not.
He stared over my shoulder, his face going slack. I followed his line of sight to two young kids at the ticket counter. Three boys jumped up and down as they pointed to Styrofoam swords. The man behind the counter tooktheir tickets, counting them out. When he finished, he turned, handing them each a sword. Seconds later, they dueled as if they were gladiators.
“I don’t remember.”
It was the first time he didn’t brush off a question. I wanted to demand more. Instead, I let it go. His face had a moment of pain, as if he had come across a bad memory. As much as I wanted to push, I didn’t want to be a source of misery. I took the ball from his hand. Walking up the side of the skeet ball ramp, I dropped it in the one-hundred-point hole.
“That’s cheating!”
He might be programmed to follow the rules. I, on the other hand, preferred to break them. “Let’s see if we can get you a Styrofoam sword.”
Biting his lower lip didn’t stop him from grinning. He snatched up the next ball and lined up his shot. He still didn’t have an aim worth mentioning. Instead, I gave the mechanics in the machine a little extra push to double the number of tickets it produced. It might not be ethical, but I’d pay back society by stopping an extra supervillain.
While I tried to keep my mission objective at the forefront of my mind, Kiki’s voice continued to haunt me. If she were here, I’d be receiving a lecture about how I need to exist here and now, and not drown in my theories. I argued with her in my head. For an imaginary conversation, she remained persistent.
“I’m trying,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?” Hudson asked.
I had grown used to having “imaginary” conversations ever since I discovered I could talk to machines. Lying about my abilities had become second nature.
“I’m trying to make sure we add to your list.”
“First arcade,” he said. “First arcadewitha handsome man.”
I wouldn’t let myself forget this handsome lug held a place on the board, but I could enjoy myself while researching. Right? What could go wrong mixing pleasure with business? Everything… and yet, something about Hudson made blurring the line easy. I’m sure I’d regret this, but right now, I wanted to savor this handsome man.
“Grab your tickets,” I said. “I’m going to introduce you to whack-a-mole.”
I’d regret this. But that was tomorrow’s problem.
I should have walked away.
