George R.R. Martin - [Wild Cards 18] (11 page)

So it went around the table. Drummer Boy and Hardhat quickly followed, then Wild Fox, Hive, and Gardener. Then they were all looking at Ana, waiting.

Ana studied the cards in her hand, the smiling faces so unlike the ones she saw around her now. Her teammates were waiting to learn their fates, and she was delaying. But she couldn’t decide.

She wondered what would happen if she put her own card on the table. After all, she never wanted to be here. She could leave just as quickly. Nobody would ever know that she’d discarded herself—unless all seven cards showed her face. That was a distinct possibility; as DB had said, she hadn’t done anything. If all seven cards showed her face, she’d have to explain to Roberto why she rigged her own downfall. So that wasn’t going to work.

She couldn’t think rationally. Everyone here had strengths. Everyone here would be useful, given the right situation. If they ever had to look for buried treasure, Ana would save the day. She couldn’t use that criterion to judge. If it was a matter of picking who she didn’t want to live with for the rest of the show, she’d have to say Wild Fox. Then again, maybe Drummer Boy had the right idea.

She put Hive’s card face down on the table.

Everyone slid the cards to Downs, who shuffled them, arranged them in his hand, and studied them. He gazed around the circle at the contestants, then back at the cards—then back at the contestants, pursing his lips studiously, narrowing his gaze. Curveball rolled her eyes, and DB crossed a pair of arms.

Finally, Downs spread the seven cards on the table. They all leaned forward, searching, desperate to see how it had turned out. The faces seemed to blur in Ana’s eyes.

Two of the cards showed Ana. Only two—Ana felt relief. One showed Wild Fox. And four showed Jonathan Hive.

“Four of a kind,” Downs said. “Hives.”

For all his commentary, Hive didn’t have a quip ready for this. He was still staring at the cards, and the four pictures of his own face looking back at him.

Downs gazed at him across the table. “Jonathan Hive, I’m afraid you’ve been discarded. It’s time for you to leave the house.”

They even made a production of that, though Ana would have liked nothing better than to hide in the bathroom, the only place off limits to the cameras. But no, they all had to watch Jonathan get his bag and trek to the front door. While the cameras watched, Hive shook hands with Wild Fox, Drummer Boy, and Hardhat, while they muttered things like “Good luck” and “Take it easy” to each other. Gardener and even Curveball offered awkward hugs. Ana was the last to shake his hand.

“Good luck,” he said, as he had to the others. He even managed a wink right at the end.

Ana thought she’d need the luck the most.

Curveball sets her expression, as if this is just another challenge, another task to be completed on the way to the prize. Her eyes gleaming, she looks at the unseen interviewer, sitting somewhere to the left of the camera, and speaks with such energy her ponytail dances.

“Hive, Bugsy, whatever—I think he didn’t take any of this seriously. All he could do was make jokes. He may be a reporter, but that doesn’t give him a right to stand there and make fun of everything.

“When I was little, I dreamed of winning a medal in the Olympics, or being the first girl to play major league baseball. Then my card turned, and well, so much for that. But now … I can do this thing that nobody else in the world can do.
All
of us can. And it isn’t a game. It shouldn’t be just a game.

“I want to do something great, and I can’t understand when people look at all this like it’s a joke. When I see someone like Earth Witch and what she can do—what she
could
do if
she put her mind to it, but she isn’t doing
anything
—it makes me crazy.”

Finally, Downs and his crew left, leaving the remainder of Team Hearts alone—with the cameras, of course.

“It just doesn’t seem right,” Curveball said, flopping onto the sofa. “Kicking him off like that.”

“That’s the game. Some poor bastard had to go,” Hardhat said.

“It’s kind of mean.”

“Come on,” DB said. “You hated the guy.”

“I didn’t hate him. I was pissed off at him, yeah. But that’s different.”

Wild Fox said, “Watch, next week we’re going to have a challenge that’ll be perfect for a thousand little flying bugs, and he won’t be here.”

DB said, “Or maybe we’ll need someone to star in a cartoon and Fox Boy here will actually be useful.”

“Hey, I’m useful!”

“Oh yeah?” the drummer said.

A room-sized Godzilla appeared behind the sofa, complete with ear-splitting squeals and flames shooting out of its toothy mouth. Everyone jumped. It didn’t matter that Ana’s rational brain told her it was just another one of his illusions. She dove behind a chair to hide. Kate screamed and fell off the sofa.

Wild Fox laughed, and Godzilla disappeared. This was going to confuse the TV audiences so much … they couldn’t see the illusions, only people’s reaction to them. Maybe that was enough.

DB crossed all six arms. “Great. When we come up against Mothra, we’ll call you.”

“Would you guys stop fighting?” Kate said, picking herself up off the floor. “We just have to do better next time. Then nobody gets voted off.”

Hardhat raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You know what? Next time, just boot me the fuck off. Then I can
get the fuck away from you fucking losers and get back to my
real
job.

Fuck it. I’m going to bed.” He stalked out of the room.

Funny, Ana had been thinking exactly the same thing.

Ana couldn’t sleep. She and Kate shared a room, and she kept waiting for her to come in and turn on the light.

She’d had trouble sleeping the whole time she’d been here, and it was more than nerves. This place didn’t have the right sounds—the desert wind against the siding of the trailer, the coyotes in the distance. This place was silent, sheltered from the sounds of the freeway, well-insulated.
Cocooned
, she thought. And she felt like ripping out of it. What would they do if she left the house and took a walk?

Was it even safe, walking after dark in this neighborhood? All she knew about L.A. was its reputation, and that didn’t say anything good about walking by herself after dark.

Maybe she’d just get a glass of water.

She turned on her small bedside lamp. Kate’s bed was still empty. She and DB had once again retreated to the back porch to talk long into the night. It figured—not only was Ana the shy one, she was going to end up being the only one of the group who didn’t party.

Creeping out of the room, she stopped when she heard voices.

“You’re going to win this thing.” The bass voice belonged to Drummer Boy.

“I don’t know,” said a laughing, female voice. Kate. “I want to, sure. But the field’s wide open.”

“You’re just being humble.”

“And I think you’re coming on to me.”

Ana dared to edge out another few inches, and sure enough, Kate and Drummer Boy stood at the corner where the living room ended. Kate leaned against the wall, hands tucked behind her back, head bowed, smiling—and blushing, probably, but she was in a shadow and Ana couldn’t see.

DB cast the shadow, his huge frame looming over her.

He’d crossed all six arms over his broad chest and leaned on the wall next to Kate—very close to Kate.

He chuckled. “Can’t fool you, can I?”

“Are you going to use that line on all the girls? ’Hey, babe, I think you’re going to win’?”

“No,” he said. “I won’t use that line on anyone but you.”

One of his arms uncrossed, reached out, and touched Kate’s cheek. Ana had to admire the gentleness he displayed, despite his massive body and strength. He had to lean far over to kiss her, but he even made that awkward motion seem graceful. A second hand closed on Kate’s waist, the third brushed her hip.

The two kissed, lightly and briefly. He paused, as if waiting for her to react, and when she didn’t, he kissed her again.

Then she slipped away. Smiling, gaze lowered, she ducked away from his touch, out of the cage formed by his arms.

“Michael, you’re a great guy,” she said softly. “But I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“But—”

“Maybe when this whole thing is over. When we’re not so distracted. ’Night.” She touched his cheek briefly, then left him standing there, dumbstruck.

Ana slipped back to her bed, but Kate reached the room before she could shut out the bedside light and pretend she’d been asleep the whole time. Her hand was on the switch when Kate leaned against the doorway. “I suppose you saw all that.”

Ana shrugged. “Just think of me as another camera.”

“Oh my God, tell me about it. This would be way more fun if it weren’t for the cameras.” They weren’t supposed to talk about the cameras in front of the cameras. They weren’t supposed to mention the elephant in the room.

Kate flopped on her bed. Watching her, Ana sat up, cross-legged. “Michael?” she ventured.

“He says his friends call him Michael.” Kate’s smile turned into a giggle. “Can you believe it? A freaking rock star. I wonder what he sees in me.”

Ana didn’t feel inclined to point out that she was thin, blond, cute, and the center of attention. Kate didn’t linger on the thought long, though.

She went on. “What’s he thinking? There’s too much at stake here to go screwing around. I know everyone’s thinking it, who’s going to end up sleeping with who before they even think about who’s going to win the show. But
God
, it messes everything up.”

“What did you guys talk about? You were out on the porch for hours,” Ana said.

“Were we? I didn’t notice.”

“If you don’t want to say—”

“No, it’s no big deal.” Her expression turned wry. “Mainly, he kept going on about how hard it is in the music business to meet girls who are honest. ’Real,’ is what he said. They’re all after him because he’s a famous rock star. I’m like, yeah, cry me a river, Mister Gold Record.” But she was smiling, and her gaze had turned inward.

Ana said, “Let me guess. He says you’re not like all those other girls. You’re ’real’ and he wants to get to know you better.”

“Not only that, he goes into this thing about how he flirts with all those girls because people expect it, because it’s part of the rock star persona, and that he actually gets tired of it.” She smirked. “He never seems to look tired when Pop Tart or Jade Blossom glue themselves to him.”

“Wild Fox said he heard there was a bet on that he wants to sleep with every girl on the show.”

Shaking her head, Kate said, “I don’t think he’s like that. I think he was serious about not being into the flirting. Just because everyone assumes he’s going to sleep around doesn’t mean he is.”

“You like him,” Ana ventured.

Kate shrugged. “Sure I like him. But do I
like
him? I don’t know. Not yet.”

Everybody—even Ana—looked at Kate and saw nothing but perfect. But her furrowed brow and pursed lips revealed something more going on under the surface. Kate certainly didn’t see herself the way everyone else did, and it made Ana warm to her.

Grinning, Ana hugged her pillow. “You want to wait and see who else shows an interest.”