Page 63 of Violet Spark
This guard might be my last chance.
But then I settled back on my heels. I wasn’t going to pit one late-night guard against two armed men and a half bottle of nanobots plus Alling’s commitment to his project. If necessary,murderouscommitment.
Maybe the guard sensed something was off, or maybe BantaMatrix always had lots of weird late-night guests. Anyway, Luis took a step back. “Okay, boss. Good luck with the experiment.”
For his part, Alling didn’t even glance at me. He didn’t doubt that I’d stay shut the hell up while Mom’s life was at stake. “Thanks, Luis. Have a good night.” It sounded more like a threat than anything else Alling had said so far.
Luis must’ve heard it too. With a stiff nod, he sat down at his console. It took all my strength not to make hysterical googly eyes at him in the hopes he’d see my fear. Even if he could call reinforcements, I didn’t know where Mom was or what might happen to her if I tried to save myself.
Nope, not gonna happen.
I kept my chin tucked and followed Alling through the big, empty, white lobby. What had seemed so serene and elegant before now felt chilling, cruel. With no other noise, the hiss of the waterfall wall sounded like eerie static.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I whispered.
Alling slanted a wry glance at me. “Like you did last time? And then ran out of here?”
I looked at him, hard. “Unless you’re hiding my mom in that bathroom, you think I’m leaving again?”
With an aggrieved sigh, he gestured toward the small unisex bathroom. “Hurry up.”
The bathroom was even smaller than the ladies restroom. Not that I really thought I’d find a useful weapon there either. Strangle them with single-ply toilet paper? Squirt “fresh scent!” soap at them? Poke them with the delicate orchid spray?
As I washed my hands, my purple X itched with a maddening fever. Did the moths know they were home? Did they want to get out of me as much as I wished they were gone?
But if I didn’t have them, I had nothing to bargain with.
When I slouched out, Alling and the two goons were waiting at the open elevator.
What else could I do?
I got in. “My mom?”
Alling was on his phone again. “Soon,” he said.
I punched the control panel beside the door.
I didn’t hit hard—no sense hurting my hand—but purple sparks flew. All the buttons flashed, went dark, then lit up again, as if nothing had happened.
But everyone was looking at me now. See? No microscopic-matrix-glove-blah-blah-bullshit necessary.
Alling tucked his phone away. His techno contacts had flared like the buttons. “Bring her mother to the lab,” he said in a tight voice. “Of course you’ll want to see her right away. My apologies.”
The sedan driver eyed the buttons warily then pushed the one for the second floor. He didn’t get zapped but when the door opened, he hustled out of the elevator like he didn’t want to take the chance.
Then it was just me, Alling, and Jen 2.0.
Alling hit the buttons in a weird pattern, and the elevator dropped. Were we going back to the lobby?
No, we dropped. Of course the eee-vul lab-óhr-atory was in the sub-basement. If only I’d kept up with my post-apocalyptic first-person shooter gaming, maybe I’d have been more prepared now. But I’d been focused on Legendelirium for a few years since it allowed players to upload customized skins, voiceovers, and other designs, which was where I’d made my tiny following and been hoping for more. Legendelirium didn’t have evil C-suite execs or microscopic robots. All the villainy in my favorite game was pure and honest. Sure, bog gnomes were sneaky, but they’d never pretend to be a friend. If they were smiling, it was only because they were about to eat you.
Hiding away in Legendelirium wasn’t an option anymore—had never been, really, although I hoped I might still get something out of the character I’d been. I wasn’t an EldWitch, no, but I also wasn’t just smoothie-making Mo.
Whoever I was now, was…someone else.
From what I understood, the Molecular Tactical Hive was basically nothing too, until the moths were given a purpose. I could so relate to that, couldn’t I?
By the time we reached the bottom, my blood pressure had gone from stroke-inducing to a less urgent consult-your-doctor level.
