She pulled her hand away from him. “Why didn’t you get in touch with me? I’ve been through hell—”
“Orders. There’s still too much going on. My silence is part of the deal. I’ve already said too much.”
“Will they ever let you tell me?”
“I’m working on it. That’s all I can say—for now.”
“I can be trusted to keep my mouth shut. You know that.”
“That’s not the point.”
She looked him straight in the eye. In a monotone which held no vestige of emotion she said, “Tell me, Arthur. Whatis the point.”
He leaned forward so far that his face was almost touching hers. “The point, my darling Peta, is that once I tell you…ifI tell you…you’ll be as involved as I am.”
Give it up, girl, she thought. At least for now. Leave the recriminations alone and delight in the gift of his presence. “Have you seen Ray?” she asked, making an enormous effort to appear normal.
“I was with him when you called to tell him you were coming to Danny’s. I booked a seat here right away, and another back to Vegas on the flight with you. The plan now is to test the whole artifact’s capabilities at the meeting, where we can keep Frik under wraps.” He glanced at her neck. “I heard about the stunt he pulled in Grenada. And that you had to give him your pendant.”
“Sadly, yes.”
Saying nothing about the switch she had made with the pendant, Peta raised her glass. You want closemouthed. I’ll give you closemouthed. “Happy birthday, Arthur Marryshow,” she said. “Happy birthday to us.”
41
“Josh.” Ray Arno shook Keene’s hand as he stepped off the private elevator into his penthouse. McKendry followed on Keene’s heels. “Terr. I tell you, I could hardly believe it when I heard the message on my machine, saying that you’d both be here. Good to see you both alive.”
“Good to be seen,” McKendry said.
Ray had to work to maintain his smile. Both men seemed to have aged a decade in the past year. McKendry, especially, must have shed another ten pounds since Ray had last seen him. Both men carried grim, haunted looks, as if they’d been through hell and had not quite made it all the way back.
Ray offered drinks and showed them around the penthouse. When he’d given them the inside tour, he hit a switch that automatically drew all of the curtains, revealing picture windows which overlooked the panorama below.
“Behold. My own private playground,” he said, pointing out the various hotels along the strip. Naming the mountains. Taking what was almost an owner’s pride in Red Rock Canyon and snowcapped Mount Charleston.
The visitors took in all the grandeur without much reaction. Keene’s usual ebullience was conspicuously absent. He had moved to a window and stood gazing out at the glittering panorama.
“Is Van Alman coming?” he said finally.
The tight voice and the use of the last name instead of “Frik” were not lost on Ray.
“He’s due any minute.”
“Lots of good people are dead because of his little treasure hunt.”
“And because of us,” McKendry said. “We’ve been over all this, Josh—”
“I know, I know, but I detest him and his goddamn device. If he’d letitbe…” He took a deep breath and turned from the window. “We got our piece, didn’t we? Like good little errand boys we went and found it, and we’re here to deliver it. But at what cost? If it had been up to me I’d have tossed it into the Cayman Trench and told Frik to go dive for it himself.”
The Cayman Trench…hundreds of miles long, five miles deep. Ray shook his head. No one would ever have found it there.
“Why didn’t you?” he asked.
“Because I needed to know that the past year wasn’t for nothing. And because I promised someone that if this device could be put to good use, I’d see to it that it was. I also promised that if it was going to be used for wrong, I’d prevent it. By any means necessary. Otherwise this is the last place I want to be.”
“I’m glad you came,” Ray said softly, sensing Keene’s pain. He’d never imagined the man could be this bitter. “We’re dwindling in number.”
McKendry shook his head. “Yeah, I keep trying to figure out what’s happening. Arthur last year. Now Simon’s gone. This goes on, there won’t be anyone left.”
“Fine with me,” Keene said.
Ray stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not a bit. I picked up a new perspective on a lot of things in the past year…what’s important, what’s not. And you know what’s last on the list? This idiotic club. How’d I ever get involved with such a bunch of arrested adolescents?” Keene made a disgusted sound. “What could I have been thinking?”
“Let me remind you. You were thinking, Life’s too short to play it safe,” said a new voice.
They all turned. Frikkie stood in the doorway, a shiny titanium briefcase dangling from his good hand.
“Well, well,” Keene muttered. “If it isn’t Mr. Teen America himself.”
Frik either didn’t hear the remark or chose to ignore it. “And you were thinking you didn’t want to miss what could be an historic moment. Truly adefining moment in history. For all we know,A.D. may come to mean ‘anno device’ instead of anno Domini.”
Ray saw Keene set his jaw and knew what he was thinking: no one could mix grandiosity and arrogance like Fredrick Van Alman and, yes, sometimes you wanted to punch out his lights. But Keene only dropped into a chair and swiveled it toward the window; he went back to staring silently at the bedizened desert, effectively removing himself from the room.
“What’s with him?” Frik said.
“Better you don’t ask,” McKendry replied. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small object. “Here’s our part of the deal,” he told Ray.
He held up the piece as if he were about to toss it across the room, apparently changed his mind, and lowered it. He stepped closer and pressed it into Ray’s hand.
Ray understood. People had shed their blood for this little piece of strangeness. No one should play catch with it. He stared a moment at the object in his palm before he closed his fingers around it. It was larger than Arthur’s. Bluer. With the little figure-eight piece at one end.
Like Arthur’s, the strangely textured surface seemed to suck the warmth and moisture from his skin.
“Where’s Peta?” Frik asked, looking around.
“On her way.” Ray jerked the thumb of his free hand over his shoulder. “Should be landing on the helipad any minute.”And won’t you be surprised to see who’s with her.
“Good. Because we can’t do anything without Arthur’s piece. In the meantime…”
He set his briefcase on the coffee table. Ray noticed for the first time that it was cuffed to his wrist.
Frik unlocked the cuff and the catches. He lifted the lid to reveal a gray, foam-lined interior. Nestled among the egg-crate contours were three oddly shaped objects, similar to the piece in Ray’s hand, yet distinct—distant relatives, but unquestionably members of the same family. A wire-frame stand lay in a rectangular cutout.
“Voilà!” Frik looked around. “Now, where’s this lab you told me you set up to assemble our treasures?”
“Right through that door back there,” Ray said without thinking. He’d been toying with Arthur’s piece on the workbench when the call announcing Keene and McKendry’s arrival had come from downstairs. He’d been trying to run a current through it, but not only was it nonconductive, it absorbed whatever he shot into it without altering its own temperature even a fraction of a degree.
Had he put it away?
“We should wait for Peta,” he said quickly.
“We will,” Frik said. He rose and carried the briefcase like a tray toward the rear of the penthouse’s great room. “We have no choice. But why waste time once she arrives? We can assemble what we have now and be all set to go. When Peta gets here we’ll simply have to plug in the final piece.”