Jamie stared out of the window.
The beach front at Cape Claudius whizzed by. Children and their families enjoyed the sun and ocean, offering him a glimpse of what life might have been like had he been born in South Texas.
A giant rig loomed in the background. It would house the spacecraft someday soon and lunch it into the stars.
Alas, the Anderson family would never be involved. Jamie bit his lip and sat back in his seat.
“I’m glad we’re going home, mom.”
“Yes, poppet,” Emily looked at Jelly through the bars of the cage. “Perhaps it’s better this way—”
The driver’s forearm started ringing. He lifted it to his face and took the call as quietly as possible.
“She did well, though, didn’t she?”
Emily didn’t say anything. She felt sorry for her son, but they’d achieved more in the past few months than most ever did in their entire lifetimes.
“Yes, poppet,” she whispered. “Jelly did very—”
The car screeched to a halt, kicking dust into the air. The traffic from behind slammed their brakes and blared their horns.
Jelly’s cage slipped forward. Jamie caught it in his hands before it fell to the foot well.
“What are you doing?”
Emily held her hands out and pressed the back of the driver’s seat, shielding herself from colliding with it. “What’s going on?”
The driver looked over his chair and threw the stick in reverse.
“I’ve just had an update,” he said, “We’re heading back to the arena…”
“What?” Jamie asked. “Why?”
“Actually, we’re heading to USARIC, not the arena.”
“What?” Emily asked. Why?”
“Something has happened,” the driver performed a hasty three-point turn in the middle of the road, angering a lot of the neighboring drivers. “USARIC want to talk to you very urgently.”
Emily, Jamie, and the caged Jelly found themselves in USARIC’s main conference room.
They’d been hurried into the building via the back entrance to avoid the crowds milling around the front.
The Gagarin family had won the trials. As far as they were concerned, Bisoubisou was recuperating with Wool ar-Ban and her team.
Emily caught sight of the attention Remy and his family received as they drove past. No one was any the wiser to the clandestine meeting that took place between USARIC and the Anderson family.
Maar Sheck and Dimitri Vasilov were in attendance, along with Tripp Healy and Wool ar-Ban.
They updated Emily on the events that had taken place after the finals were finished. It came a complete shock, and didn’t go down very well with either her or her son.
“How did it happen? Emily asked.
Wool sat up in her chair with a degree of solemnity. “A combination of her injuries and a reaction to the utility that was strapped to her paw. Essentially, it culminated in progressive organ failure and she went into cardiac arrest. She wouldn’t have felt anything. It all happened so fast.”
Emily exhaled and looked at her lap. She felt disgusted with herself. “It was Jelly’s fault, wasn’t it?”
“Oh no, no,” Wool said, “Jelly had nothing to do with—”
“—we saw it with our own eyes,” Emily interrupted. “You made them fight. We saw Jelly injure her. She can’t have helped.”
“No,” Wool said, “I can’t argue with that. She can’t have helped.”
“So, how much trouble are we in?” Emily rubbed Jamie’s knee, signing that she had everything under control. “Just so you know, we intend to get representation in court. We can’t be held responsible—”
“—in court?” Maar asked, confused. “Why would you need a lawyer?”
“Well, because of all this. You’re suing us, aren’t you?”
Maar and Dimitri looked at each other, realizing that the woman had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Maar spoke slowly, intending to correct her.
“Uh, no… we’re not planning to sue you.”
“No?”
“No. Actually, we want to use Jelly. We consider her to be the winner in all this.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Jamie’s ears pricked up. He felt an internal whirl of delight. “You mean Jelly won?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Tripp looked at Emily and threw her a smile. “Bisoubisou can’t go. But Jelly can, if you allow it.”
Emily shook her head instinctively. She didn’t want to hear another word.
“No, no, no, you don’t get to do this to us. To Jelly. No, a thousand times no.”
“How about two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand times yes?” Dimitri tried.
“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Jelly take Bisoubisou’s place?”
“That is what we’re suggesting,” Dimitri glanced over at his colleagues. “Jelly, here, proved a number of things. One, she’s the best candidate for the task. Two, she technically beat the competition. It’s just a shame that the results were announced before—”
Emily slammed the table, her emotions get the better of her. Jelly growled in her cage as she felt the impact.
“You forced our cat to attack her. She had no choice. Jelly was defending herself. How dare you suggest she’s a killer.”
“We didn’t say she was,” Maar said. “All we’re saying is that, technically, she won.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Emilly grabbed her son’s hand and the handle on Jelly’s carry case. “We’re leaving. Let us out.”
She marched Jamie toward the door, leaving a thoroughly disappointed USARIC team behind her.
Just one, last baiting technique was left to be dealt by Maar. “Of course, if Jelly won, which she did, then that also means her family won the prize money.”
Emily stopped before the door and closed her eyes. “What?”
Maar rose from his seat. “Perhaps my colleague wasn’t clear enough a moment ago. The two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollar final prize,” Maar grinned behind her back, much to Dimitri’s amusement. “It’s all yours. You won.”
Emily paused for a second longer and thoroughly digested this new dilemma. She had two options available to her.
1: Uphold her and her family’s dignity and walk away. Sure, they’d be broke. Jamie wouldn’t get out of Chrome Valley and lead a life worth living. Back to a life of obscurity. Or…
2: She could accept. The money would at least go some way to dampen the effect of the issues raised on point one. It might afford them opportunities in life.
Of course, Emily settled on the latter of the two options. But some caveats she’d yet to think of would need to be put in place.
Emily turned around and made sure they saw her displeased reaction. “The money?”
“That’s right, Emily,” Maar said. “It’s yours.”
“Right.”
She walked back to the conference desk with Jamie.
“Mom, what are we doing?”
“Be quiet, poppet,” she said, sitting into her seat and pressing her hands together. “I will allow Jelly to take part on two conditions.”
“We are all ears,” Dimitri said, suppressing the urge to smile at USARIC’s impending victory.
“The money. Half of it is to be transferred directly into a secure fund for my son when he reaches eighteen.”
“Mom?”
“Hush, poppet.” She turned to Maar and Dimitri for an answer.
“Of course, as you wish.”
“Okay,” Emily continued, “Two. You go out there right now and tell that poor family what happened to their pet.”
This is a condition USARIC did not want to entertain. Maar leaned forward and pleaded with her. “The Gagarin family are under the impression Bisoubisou is alive and well and a part of the Opera Beta mission.”