False Hearts (False Hearts #1)(64)

Nazarin reads the notes right there. I sip my coffee, watching his bowed head, the way the light through the bay window highlights his cheekbones. When he’s finished, he holds his head in his hands. “Shit. This changes everything.”

We prepare even more intensely. There’s a hint of desperation in the detective—he doesn’t turn off the brainload to let me have uninterrupted REM. There’s no time. Nazarin trains me, and my muscles grow stronger. I can run faster. The SFPD sends still more information to my brain. Out there in the city, my friends are going on with their lives, and so are Tila’s.

I meet the team who will be watching us from outside Xanadu. It’s only four people, because they’re still containing how many within the SFPD know about Tila and me. I recognize the Indian-American officer who helped bring us in that first, awful night. Her name is Officer Jina Shareef. Her handshake is firm. Officer Oloyu is there, though he’s only helping part-time. The rest of the time, he’s up wherever they’re holding my sister. I want to ask him how she’s faring, but I’m afraid of the answer. The other two have worked on undercover operations, including with Nazarin, many times. Their names are Detective Lucas and Detective Tan. Both have the large, blocky look of bodyguards, and of men who know how to use a gun. The officers will be watching surveillance, and all four will be posted near the Xanadu, a hovercar at the ready if we need a quick escape.

The morning of the party, I read through the notes one last time. I don’t think there’s anything more for me to learn from them. The puzzle pieces have fallen into place.

All we know of the Test is it’s another lucid dreaming assessment, perhaps to let Tila into the next level of the Verve lounge. No one knows what the Test exactly entails. Not Nazarin. Not the SFPD. Not Tila, though I expect she had some inklings that never made it onto the pages. We’ve done all we can.

But we won’t know if it’s enough until I pass or fail.

Tila was after Ensi. The leader of the Ratel. Though I still don’t see why, or how she could ever have thought she could take him down. All I can do is get closer to the quarry at the party in Xanadu.





SEVENTEEN

TAEMA

The Xanadu is just off Union Square.

I wonder who the billionaire Alex Kynon really is, for it’s a pseudonym wrapped in many layers of bureaucratic red tape and obfuscation.

I’ve wandered through Union Square so many times, especially around Christmas. Tila and I would always come here to see the lights. The giant Christmas tree in the center, the man-made ice rink where people zipped to and fro on old-fashioned ice skates. The city tries to trap the past like an insect in amber. It doesn’t really succeed in capturing a sense of what it must have felt like—not with those hypermodern fashions the men and women wear as they bustle about, actually shopping in person for the sheer nostalgia of it, droids following behind carrying their wares—but I do appreciate the effort.

Nazarin and I discussed our plan over and over before I left. We’ll take different MUNI trains, arriving at Union Square at different times from different directions. We’ll enter the party nearly together, though. Tila and Skel have been seen flirting with each other at previous parties, so we can act friendly, but won’t linger together too much. Nazarin is hoping to network, and speak to one of the discontented members of the Ratel, try to become closer to him. He tells me the name, keeping his promise not to hold anything back: it’s Leo, the man that Tila wrote about in her notes.

My objective is to do the Test, try not to die, and find out what happens at the next level of the Ratel.

No big deal.

Nazarin appears on my right. I’m waiting for him beneath the pillar of the Dewey Memorial. Far above him, the young woman balances on one toe, holding her wreath and trident.

He pauses. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” He saw me leave with my coat, but I have it unbuttoned in the warm evening. I must have tried on all the clothes I’d taken from Tila’s place three times before I decided on an outfit. In the end I chose a form-fitting silver zip-up catsuit that covers me from neck to wrists to built-in heels. According to Tila’s notes, I’m meant to attract attention at these things. Here’s hoping no one misses me, looking like a human-shaped disco ball from space.

“Have you ever been here before?” I ask, jerking my head in the direction of the Xanadu.

“No.”

“And you think both the King and Queen will be there?”

“They’re meant to be.”

Ensi is the named leader of the Ratel, but if the chess analogy is to be carried on, the Queen is the most important player. She’s the one who does the dirty work and takes out the other pieces, if need be. I recall Tila’s sketch of her, the beautiful woman with long dark hair, a sardonic smile and a cruel glint to her eye.

“OK,” Nazarin says. “It’s nearly time.”

“Right.”

He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “We’re in this together. You’ve prepared for this as much as you can. You can do this.”

“You have more faith in me than I do.”

A short smile. “I have no doubt you can do this. You’re tough as nails.”

His words hearten me, as they are meant to. I watch him walk away, counting in my head.

Then I follow him, my silver heels clicking along the sidewalk.