Page 43 of Amethyst Flame
While he stirred and glared, I casually wandered under the security camera where I’d injected some of my moths to practice irritating Dane. I subtly crooked my fingers in a [claim] command, but none of the bugs came back to me. I knew the molecular bots couldn’t last without my energy, but I’d hoped they’d go longer so I could indulge in more elaborate torments. Oh well. Since I’d been petty enough, I continued on to my other lie—I mean life.
Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into a parking spot at BantaHell.
Before submerging myself in glass, chrome, and the terror of possibly being outed as a spy and mutant, I checked my phone one last time.
Brianna had never replied. In retrospect, that late-night reality check had been a little harsh. She was only fifteen, after all. Still, if she wanted to be a loner loser, she should think about what that meant.
Rather than do the same, I went to work.
With the rest of my intern group, I toured the other departments of BantaMatrix. Maybe it was the extra protein—thanks, Rique!—or maybe because these were parts of the building where I hadn’t almost been killed, but I didn’t relapse into a white-out panic again. Oluwa passed us over to senior personnel in the upper reaches, where management, design, and marketing presided. They had fewer cool toys but much better views than the basement engineers.
When Hassan and Mary Liz were whispering to each other during the lecture on futurecasting (among a hundred other buzzwords), the senior product development manager gave us all a chiding look. “It’s easy to focus on just your little corner, but you need to think bigger—about how your part fits into the whole.”
What was my part?
Will sat next to me during the morning coffee break. “Thinking about making a shift to the C suites?”
I lifted an eyebrow over my perfectly frothed latte. “Do I look like I could pull off a power tie?”
“Yeah, you do.” He took a bite out of his danish and licked a speck of frosting off his upper lip with just a little too much flourish.
An awkward flush heated my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
At the aggressiveness in my tone, he blinked and choked a bit on the danish. “I—I just meant you seem like you could do whatever you wanted here. You obviously have the skills downstairs since Oluwa was practically ready to sign you on the spot. But you looked straight at the CFO and asked how they are making their advances accessible to marginalized users, and then you mocked up that interface template in a flash.”
“Flash isn’t supported anymore,” I said snidely. When he just stared at me, I sighed. “Look, I’m just trying to figure out if this is where I might want to be in the future.” If I had a future.
“You just act so cool doing it.” He gave me an endearing grin, the first that didn’t look totally rehearsed. “I think Ruskin was probably like you twenty years ago.”
I… Wow. Okay. Another flush went through me, and it felt much nicer. No one had ever compared me to a rich, visionary goddess before. Oh, I knew that he was flattering me, probably for all the wrong reasons, and flattery wasn’t enough. I was more into lying, running away, deluding myself, and blowing things up in a spray of purple sparks. But for this moment, it was nice.
“I’m not looking to mastermind a company or redefine an industry,” I said. “I just want a paycheck and good benefits, something interesting to occupy my workdays.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat bigger than any danish. It sounded so small-time when I said it aloud. Especially when everyone else I knew seemed determined to make something of their lives—and the rest of everyone else’s lives too, for that matter.
But Will was nodding slowly. “I think you’re interesting,” he murmured. “What are you doing tonight?”
I snapped back to myself. “Um, you met my boyfriend, remember?”
“Barely.” He chuckled. “But I’m not trying to get you to cheat on your guy, even though I don’t see his appeal. I’d just like to hear more about what you think of BantaMatrix and their work.”
If William Teller was sketchy, at least he was giving me the opportunity to figure him out without needing to risk twisting my ankles or summoning my moths or anything. I sighed, knowing that Dane would want me to chase down this lead, but I couldn’t. “Not tonight,” I told him. “I have some family crap I need to deal with. Raincheck?”
“As long as it comes before the rainy season here.” He grinned again, and that suck-up smarm was back.
We finished our tour of all the BantaMatrix departments in the facilities maintenance room in a sub-sub-basement.
“Janitorial?” Rahm whispered with a note of derision.
The head of maintenance gave us all a look. “It might not seem like much,” she said. “But guess what happens to this place if the power goes out or the fire suppression system fails.”
My anxiety had spiked once as the elevator dropped on our way down here, and now the cold shiver went all the way down my spine. I didn’t need to imagine it. I remembered the gloom and the chill of the choking fog when I set the place on fire.
The shivers didn’t end until I stepped out into the after-five Phoenix heat, compounded by the reflection off glass and chrome, and tipped my face to the light. My skittering pulse calmed along with my bugs.
When I opened my eyes, Will was at my side again. “Don’t forget that raincheck, babochka,” he said.
I gave him a nod as I strode off toward the Fiesta, and I swear his dark gaze was like twin electrodes in my back.
Huddled inside, windows down, I fired up the A/C and checked my phone.
