Their Fractured Light (Starbound #3)(5)
“We need a diversion,” she whispers, one hand around my neck to yank my head down so she can whisper in my ear, which isn’t at all distracting. “Can you send them somewhere else?”
“What makes you think I can do that?” I’m already pulling out my lapscreen from my satchel, but I’m interested to hear how she made me.
“Please,” she mutters. “Maybe you didn’t turn on that machine, but I know you’re the one who shut off the projectors.”
Huh. Well, at least she was watching me, that’s a start. I should try asking her out for a drink later. If we’re not dead or arrested.
I wriggle around until I’m facing her, and judging by the way her lips thin, she’s all ready to pour cold water on the idea of getting this up close and personal, until she realizes I’m doing it—mostly—because I need room to get my screen in front of me. “Let’s give them something to go look at,” I mutter, pulling the activation chip from my pocket and sliding it into the port on the side of the screen.
“What are you going to do?” she asks.
“Would you understand if I answered that?” I bring the screen to life, and as always, a faint but heady buzz kicks in as I write my own invitation into the LaRoux Industries core and start the hunt for my dance partner. Not a bad system, but not good enough.
She huffs a breath. “No,” she admits. “I don’t do computers. People make more sense to me.” She sure worked those guys back in the holosuite like she knows where to find the buttons and levers in people’s brains—and though I couldn’t quite hear, I’m pretty sure she was trying to throw me under the bus until the guards made it clear she’d be joining me there. Still, I can’t really blame her—it was a tight spot, and all’s fair in love, war, and criminal trespassing.
“People, huh?” I find the trail I need, and start work.
“Think of them as computers with organic circuits.” I can tell from her tone the dimples are back. I’d like to say I don’t notice how close she’s pressed against me in the shelter of the alcove, but that would be a waste. I mean, she clearly wants me to notice, and I try to help folks out when I can. “So if people make more sense to you…tell me what kind of sense I make.”
“What, you show me yours and I’ll show you mine?” She shakes her head, bemused. “I really did just come to meet someone. When the projectors went down and the guards started hauling people away, I picked you for a diversion because I saw you change your shirt. I thought maybe you weren’t supposed to be here either, so you’d probably play along.”
Boring. Not the real story. Someone like her doesn’t come here without a very good reason. Even I don’t come here without a good reason—the fact that I’m leaving this monumental screw-up without any new info on the whereabouts of Commander Antje Towers just adds salt to the wound. But my hunt for the former LaRoux Industries pawn will have to wait. I snort to let Dimples know I’m not buying her cover story, and find the components I’m looking for. Nearly ready to get my party started.
She pauses, nibbling her lip again as I glance at her profile. “How did you play along?” she asks. “How’d you make yourself froth like that?”
I run my tongue over my teeth, wrinkling my nose at the taste lingering in my mouth. “SysCleanz tab. Drop it into decontaminated water, it makes up a solution for cleaning some circuits that need an alkaline mix. Chew on it without water, which is not recommended on the packaging, and it feels like your mouth’s exploding.”
“Huh.” She sounds grudgingly impressed, and I’d bet my boots she’s filing that one away in case she needs it.
“Got a name, my wife-to-be?” I ask, pressing my advantage.
“Alexis.”
“Nice to meet you, Alexis.” You don’t mind if I stick with Dimples, do you? I mean, that’s not your real name either.
“And you are?”
“Sam Sidoti,” I say, and this time it’s her turn to eyeball me.
“Samantha Sidoti anchors the late-night news on SDM,” she points out. “And she’s a woman.”
“Busted.” I peek up from my work, and she looks back at me over her shoulder, and it turns out making that little line show up between her brows is almost as fun as looking at the dimples. “I’m nearly done. Seems like we should have a plan for after our friends out there start heading for where the emergency will be kicking off in about a minute. Or is the plan that you go your way, and I go mine?”
She’s quiet for several beats, though I can’t tell whether she’s weighing her options or just listening for approaching footsteps. “It’s less likely we’ll be stopped if we split up,” she says slowly, her eyes on my hands as I key in the last few commands, fingers racing over the screen. Then her tone firms. “But I’ve got an access card for the fire stairs, and there aren’t any security cameras there. If you want to come with me, you can.”
Well, isn’t that interesting? I power down the lapscreen with a press of my thumb against the print scanner, then pull out the chip to stow it in my pocket. “I like a girl who commits to a relationship. So hard to find these days.” I ease my neck from side to side and roll my shoulders a couple of times—pretending to throw a fit really tenses things up—and tug my shirt straight.