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  Vid’recorders pointed from every direction, capturing every movement, every word.

  At the entrance, another man in a matching uniform opened the door. Reporters called out, but we only smiled and waved. During dinner we would have time to process their questions, and later, as we left, we would respond.

  I led Keira down a short hall to the hostess stand. Marie looked surprised as she studied her list. “Mr. Burke, I didn’t realize you were coming tonight. I’m so sorry. I don’t see a reservation.”

  “Will that be a problem?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the reporters who were now talking to the doorman.

  “Just give me a minute.” She leaned through the door and signaled to someone.

  Keira tugged at my arm. I leaned close, and she whispered, “You have some explaining to do.”

  I nodded and replied under my breath, “Not now.”

  “Right this way.” Marie ushered us inside.

  Our waiter also addressed me by name. I was friendly with everyone here, and Keira played her part well, being gracious and lighthearted through dinner and dessert.

  Although the vidcrew was kept at bay by the doormen and waitstaff, I knew that somehow Everyday Elite would give an accurate report on our dinner choices and conversation, all the way down to picking apart my facial expression as I responded to one of Keira’s jokes. They would know and share every detail.

  When we left, my suspicions were confirmed. In addition to the typical questions, one reporter called out, “How was the tiramisu?”

  Keira charmed the crew as well as the small crowd that had gathered. She looked directly into the vid’recorder and said, “It was delicious, the perfect ending to a perfect evening.”

  Back in the car, she let out a breath of air. “That was exhausting! I wonder who tipped them off.”

  “I did.”

  “What? When?”

  “When I asked you out in public,” I said.

  “Oh. Have you done this before?”

  “Not exactly, but when my father first set up business here, they interviewed him. And then there was my 20th birthday when Dad officially announced I would follow in his footsteps. It’s been quiet ever since. I try to stay out of the spotlight. Don’t want to draw unne-cessary attention.”

  She grabbed my hand. “How about we ditch them?”

  I put my other hand over hers. “Not now. Tonight, we want to be noticed. We’ll be together soon. I promise. After the benefit, alright?”

  “How will the benefit change anything?”

  “Trust me. Sneaking off now would give the media an unflattering impression of you.

  We don’t want that.”

  Keira curled up against me and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Tell me why everyone at the restaurant knew you.”

  “You know I’ve been dating other women.”

  “Yes, to keep our cover.” She sounded sleepy.

  “Exactly. It’s like a job, and when people go to work, they generally follow patterns: sticking to a schedule, going to the same places…”

  “Well, not in my line of work, but yes, I can see how that’s true for most.”

  “So that’s where I take my dates for dinner.”

  Eberhardt pulled over and stopped the car.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”

  She turned to look over my shoulder and out the back window. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  I looked too. The news van pulled up behind us. I grabbed Keira’s gym bag and helped her out of the car. She kept hold of my hand as we walked to the door together.

  In full view of the vid’recorders, I raked my fingers through her hair. As I leaned forward to kiss Keira in the moonlight, a gentle breeze teased at her skirt. I was certain it looked terribly romantic, and if I could have ignored the fact that thousands of people would soon be sharing this very special moment with us, it may have felt romantic as well.

  When we pulled apart, Keira smiled and winked at me. “I’ll see you soon!” Then she was gone.

  -Keira-

  Tony’s

  By the sixth ring, I’d just about given up when Raquelle answered.

  “Sh…I have to take this. Keira? What’s up?” She turned on the vidscreen. Her dark eyes sparkled.

  “I need you for a job tomorrow. Can you meet me at Art Fantastique at say, 11:00?”

  “AM?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s early. What’s the job?”

  “Recruitment.”

  “Really? On whose orders?”

  “Guy’s.”

  Although I was technically her superior, Raquelle had been with the Resistance longer, and I just didn’t feel right giving her orders. I sensed that she trusted me more because I held back and deferred to her expertise.

  “Stop it, Joe! Give me a minute,” she hissed to someone off-vid.

  “Is that the same Joe who built your car?”

  She froze and gazed off-screen. Then she looked into my eyes. “Yes, why?”

  “He doesn’t just build cars, does he? I mean he knows a lot of people, other technicians and such, right?”

  “Right…”

  My thoughts were going a mile a minute. “He’s not, I mean, does he know what you do, what we do?”

  “That I’m a Freelancer? Yes.”

  She was choosing her words carefully and so would I. I’d let her decide whether or not to tell Joe about the Resistance.

  “We’re recruiting from all sectors now, so if you want, bring him along.”

  ***

  The next day at Art Fantastique, Raquelle marched straight to the back room. I followed close behind. She pulled out a black handheld device and quickly scanned for bugs. When she was confident no one was listening, she shoved it into her pocket and turned to me. I closed the door to the main room.

  Raquelle crossed her arms. “Where’s Eberhardt?”

  “It’s just us.”

  “And we’re recruiting? For real?”

  “Yes. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t actually! I think we’re better off laying low. I rather like being, well, alive!”

  “Will you just hear me out?”

  Raquelle leaned against the table and glared at me, but she listened.

  “It might work,” she said when I’d finished. “Okay, we’ll drive you over to Tony’s. If they like what you have to say, we’ll move on to some of our haunts. We’ll even introduce you and back you up. But, if it doesn’t look good, you’re finding another ride home.”

  “Fair enough. Where’s Joe?”

  “She’s waiting in the car.”

  “She?”

  “Yeah, my girlfriend, Jo.” Raquelle stood up straight; her arms dropped to her sides.

  “Damn, girl! You’re even less trusting than I am!”

  Raquelle tried to fight a grin, then simply let it shine. “Well, maybe I should have told you.”

  I shrugged. “And now you have.”

  “Keira, there’s something else…Jo’s a car thief.”

  “Then she’ll fit right in, as long she avoids sleek silver automobiles from the late 21st century.”

  Raquelle laughed. “Don’t worry. I told her to stay away from Guy’s wheels, and after your call last night, I finally told her why.”

  ***

  “I’m Keira Maddock.”

  I climbed onto the bar and spoke loudly enough to get everyone’s attention.

  “Is anyone here interested in helping me bring down the Gov?”

  People turned and stared at me.

  “I’ve got some powerful friends, and we’d like you to join us.”

  Raquelle and Jo stood straight and alert, side-by-side, halfway across the room. Jo’s short blond hair contrasted nicely with Raquelle’s. Tony’s was busy today, a good thing for us.

  A brief silence was broken by one lone voice. “You mean, you’re not undercover?”

  “What?” I asked.

&
nbsp; “I’ve seen you on Everyday Elite.”

  I recognized the woman who was speaking. Marti had been a regular at Tony’s since before I started coming here.

  Others murmured in agreement.

  “We thought you were playing him.”

  “Or maybe switching sides.”

  I shook my head. “You know that’s not possible.”

  “Richard Burke knows who you are and what you do?” asked Marti.

  “Yes, he does. He was my ticket into the Resistance, and now I can be yours.”

  “The Resistance?” someone scoffed. “That’s just a fairy tale.”

  “Where’s your proof?”

  A familiar voice. I latched onto Cole’s gaze. “Proof?”

  “Yeah, proof. Are we just supposed to take you at your word?”

  “Isn’t my word good enough?” I challenged.

  “For me it is.” He hopped up next to me. “But what about everyone else?” He addressed the crowd. “Many of you know Keira by reputation, but do you trust her?”

  He was right. They needed more.

  “You can trust me. You should trust me…because I’m one of you. And the Resistance is real.”

  I undid the clasp of my necklace and held out the gold pendant. I described it for those who stood farther away. “It’s the symbol of the Resistance - a serpent striking at a gold coin, and it’s time for us to strike back. You’ve all felt the restrictions of the Divide. Don’t you think it’s time to close it?” I paused. How many of you know someone who’s disappeared?”

  People whispered to each other and nodded.

  “I know where they are. They need our help.”

  “Where are they?” Tony asked, loudly enough for the people in the back of the room to hear.

  “They’re in the Justice Center, but we can’t just go in with guns blazing. We need to band together first. The only way we can succeed is with an organized attack.”

  “You’re crazy,” said a man from right in front of me. “They’d take us out in an instant.”

  He turned and faced the crowd. “It’s not just the Gov, and it’s not just the Elite. They have the military on their side.”

  People started shouting and arguing.

  “Stop!” I yelled and waited for the crowd to settle. “You can’t judge people like that.

  Over 70% of the military are on our side, and we have insiders in the Gov too.”

  Everyone looked at me again.

  “We’ve been preparing for years. Now, we need you.”

  “How?” It was the same man who had riled the crowd. “How were you able to do all that?”

  “Guy Bensen.”

  People stared. His name was legend to some, unknown to others, but it had the desired effect.

  “I believe her.” Micah, another Freelancer, jumped up onto the other end of the bar and strode toward me. He gripped my hand in a firm handshake. “I’ll join your cause. Other Freelancers I know have gone missing but not without leaving a trail. They were hired by CalTech to break into the Justice Center as a way to test security.”

  I shook my head. “But CalTech is on our side.”

  Another voice called out from across the room. “The Palamara report, was that for real?”

  “All of Palamara’s reports are for real, and the one about Ramsey Corps was no exception. I know because I was there.”

  People pressed forward. I looked to Raquelle for support.

  She climbed up onto a table. “I was too.”

  People turned to look at her.

  “Keira and I took down Ramsey Corps along with a team led by Guy Bensen.”

  “Ricky?” Someone chuckled. “Why should we believe you? All you Freelancers.

  You’ve got each others’ backs.”

  Jenna stood. “I’m with them too, and I’m no Freelancer.” She smiled at me. Jenna’s opinion carried a lot of weight around here.

  Cole was next. He threw his arm around my shoulders. “How can we help?”

  “For now, you can spread the word. Get others on board, and be ready to move when the time is right.”

  After Tony’s, we visited five other establishments: three bars and two garages. We opened up lines of communication that had been dormant for far too long. The revolution had begun.

  -Aimee-

  Artist’s Special

  As the week wore on, business picked up. Maybe the people of Tkaron were simply more inclined to purchase art nearer the weekend. Whatever the reason, it gave me a good excuse to ask for Keira’s help. I’d been hoping we’d have some time to begin rebuilding our relationship, yet again. But by late morning, I’d realized a heart-to-heart with my sister would be near impossible with the number of people moving in and out of the gallery.

  Two more Resistance drops were delivered right in front of everyone. I was beginning to see how it all worked. Act like you aren’t doing anything wrong, and no one takes notice.

  Keira once told me, people see what they expect to see. It’s that simple.

  By 1:00, the rush seemed to be over. Keira stood at the counter and completed a sale.

  The last of Natalie Kozlovsky’s bead and wire sculptures had been purchased. I hurried over to wrap it up.

  After the customer left, I looked around the empty room and said, “We should have lunch.”

  “Sounds great!” Keira’s brilliant green eyes sparkled when she smiled at me, and I felt a warm glow in my heart.

  We retreated to the back room but left the door open so we could listen for customers.

  Keira handed me a salad from the cooler I’d packed that morning.

  “I’m glad you’re finally speaking to me again,” Keira said.

  “Me? You’re the one who’s been in a world of her own. I’m glad you’re finally ready to listen.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The audiovid.” I nodded at the small device Guy had given her. “Even when we’ve had time, you’ve been listening to that thing almost nonstop.”

  She blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

  “From Guy, I know,” I interrupted.

  “Well yes, but the songs he put on it were some of Mom’s favorites.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “You’re welcome to use it,” she said.

  “Maybe later.” I didn’t remember Mom’s music as well as Keira did.

  She popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, chewed briefly and swallowed. “Look, I’m really sorry about keeping things from you. It’s just a habit, you know?”

  “One that needs to be broken.” I would have to remain firm.

  “Yes, I agree. On both sides,” Keira said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aimee, you had a baby. A sweet little baby girl who I’ve heard almost nothing about!”

  I looked down. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you about that, but I’d prefer to talk with you and Guy together.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not ready to have that conversation without him here.”

  “Well, can’t you tell me anything about Nadine, anything at all?”

  “She has his eyes.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and my fork clattered against my plate. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I can’t. Thinking about her brings him back. And then I see that knife sticking out of his back, a knife I put there.”

  I began to shake, and tears spilled from my eyes. From across the table, chair legs scraped across the polished wooden floor. Keira wrapped her arms around me.

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have realized. I won’t ask again.”

  The shaking slowly abated, and Keira returned to her seat. I took a bite of my salad and studied the vegetables on my plate, trying to clear my mind.

  “Have you decided who you’re going to ask to the benefit?” she asked, changing the subject.

  She was referring to the Redemption for Orphans fund raising benefit, an event I wasn’t especially looking forward to. A few of the art
ists I’d met since moving back to Tkaron had agreed to donate a painting apiece for the cause. I wondered if they realized the goal of the RFO was to help Elite orphans, not all orphans, and most of the money would simply be shuffled among the Elite in attendance for their role in throwing the event itself. That’s how Keira had explained it anyway, and I didn’t doubt it was true.

  “No, not yet.”

  “You do realize it’s tomorrow evening, right? You simply can’t go alone. Guy said…”

  “I know what Guy said!”

  The front door chimes jangled and interrupted our conversation. Keira went to see who it was. She turned to look at me with a mischievous grin. “Now’s your chance. A special delivery has arrived just for you. I’ll send him in!” She didn’t wait for an answer.

  I swiped at my eyes and stood. Hisoka appeared in the doorway carrying two large canvases and a wooden box. I nodded toward two easels I’d set up earlier. He placed a canvas on each one, then turned to look at me. Were my cheeks still wet with tears, my eyes still red from crying? I reached up to check.

  Hisoka politely turned away and said, “Let’s put you to work!”

  “Just let me clear the table first.” In under a minute, I’d packed what was left of our salads and moved our drinks to the desk against the wall.

  Hisoka set his box on the table. Then he picked up a chair and placed it in front of the easels.

  “Sit and close your eyes.”

  I sat. I could hear Hisoka at the table. What was he doing? I peeked and watched his supple painter’s hands spread out the supplies. He turned and caught me watching him. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, “and let your imagination wander. When it settles on something, try to bring it into focus. See all the details. See all the colors.”

  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes again and let my thoughts flow. After a few minutes, an image came into view.

  “Alright, I think I’ve got something.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  He handed me a pencil. I stood and began to sketch. Hisoka did the same, working at the easel next to me. I lost track of time and became fully in tune with my creation.

  When my sketch was finished, I stood back in awe. Had I really created something so beautiful? It was perfect. The juxtaposition of the three crooked apple trees with people emerging from within, against a very realistic backdrop gave the drawing an otherworldly quality.