Tails You Lose (34 page)

Night Owl awoke in the same place where exhaustion had overtaken her: in Kageyama's bed. The last thing she remembered was talking to Kageyama, telling him about the illusion Miracle Worker had cast on the I Ching coins and how she'd been correct in her guess that Strange Eyes would use his magic to force her to jump from the bridge, once he'd gotten what he wanted. She'd been yawning with every second word and fighting to keep her eyes open when she got to the part about Alma's appointment to have the REM inducer removed, and the fear that this would put Night Owl to sleep—permanently.

She sat up. and something fell into her lap: Alma's cellphone. Night Owl glanced at its clock, expecting to see that at least sixteen hours of wakefulness had passed—Alma's usual cycle. She was amazed to see that it was twenty after seven in the
morning
. Which could mean only one thing: instead of keeping her appointment and having the REM inducer removed. Alma had stayed awake for little more than an hour and then deliberately triggered it. Why?

Night Owl's quick glance around the room took in her drysuit and clothes draped over a chair, and the three coins on the table next to the bed. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought the dragons had come to the condoplex to return their coins—in person.

Then she realized that these weren't the coins that Miracle Worker had enchanted.

Night Owl had dreamed about coins—about holding the Fu Coin in her hand. Alma must have been casting the I Ching.

Belatedly, Night Owl realized that a red light was flashing on the cellphone. Alma had left her a message. Thumbing the memo icon, she watched as it materialized on the tiny monitor screen.

TWO DAYS AGO YOU LEFT ME A WARNING ABOUT THE RED LOTUS AND DRAGON EYES. NOW IT'S MY TURN TO WARN YOU.

THERE'S A BOMB INSIDE OUR HEAD—ONE THAT'S SET TO GO OFF AT NOON TODAY. PCI PUT IT THERE, TO SAFEGUARD THE REM INDUCER. DON'T TRY TO HAVE IT SURGICALLY REMOVED: THAT WILL ONLY TRIGGER IT.

THE BOMB CAN ONLY BE DEACTIVATED BY MENTALLY INPUTTING A NUMERICAL SEQUENCE, ONE THAT YOU MUST HAVE STUMBLED ACROSS AT SOME POINT DURING YOUR LAST PERIOD OF WAKEFULNESS. IT'S PROBABLY A DESCENDING SEQUENCE OF NUMBERS THAT ARE GROUPED MATHEMATICALLY: SQUARE ROOTS, OR COMMON MEASUREMENTS, OR SOMETHING ALONG THOSE LINES.

YOU MUST HAVE SEEN OR HEARD OR THOUGHT ABOUT THIS NUMBER SEQUENCE—BUT NOT COMPLETED IT. BY ONLY GOING THROUGH PART OF THE SEQUENCE, YOU MERELY PUT THE BOMB'S COUNTDOWN MECHANISM ON PAUSE. TO COMPLETELY "DEFUSE" THE BOMB, YOU NEED TO RECITE THIS NUMBER SEQUENCE AGAIN, COUNTING THE NUMBERS ALL THE WAY DOWN TO EITHER ONE OR ZERO.

I CAN CHECK TO SEE IF THE COUNTDOWN HAS STOPPED USING THE COUNTDOWN SEQUENCE IN MY CYBEREYE—THE BOMB'S TIMER DISPLAY HAS BEEN SLAVED TO IT. I KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T ACCESS MY CYBEREYE—NOT WITHOUT A PLACEBO LIKE THE 'NIGHT VISION GOGGLES' THAT HOTHEAD TOLD ME ABOUT. YOU NEED ME TO CHECK TO SEE IF THE NUMBER SEQUENCES YOU'RE USING HAVE WORKED. THIS MEANS YOU'LL HAVE TO ACTIVATE THE REM INDUCER AND ALLOW ME TO WAKE UP. TO ACTIVATE THE INDUCER, COUNT BACKWARDS BY PRIME NUMBERS, STARTING FROM 19.

LIKE IT OR NOT, WE RE STUCK WITH EACH OTHER. WE'VE GOT TO WORK TOGETHER IF WE'RE GOING TO SURVIVE.

Night Owl realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. For several moments, she sat and stared at the cell in her hand. Both gut instinct and logic told her that Alma wasn't lying about a bomb being inside her head—it reeked ot PCI's usual methods. The corp would do whatever it took to prevent its tech from being boosted.

Alma was probably right, too. about numbers being the key to defusing the bomb. All Night Owl had to do was think back over everything she'd seen and heard during her last run . . .

After several minutes of skull sweat, she came up with a big fat zero. Not exactly the number she was looking for. But even if she did manage to defuse the bomb, it probably wouldn't prolong her own existence by much. As soon as she allowed Alma to wake up and see that the bomb's countdown had stopped ticking, Alma would have the REM inducer chopped out and would kiss Night Owl good night.

Night Owl picked up one of the three coins that lay on the table beside the bed. Heads, she'd keep trying to figure out the number sequence that would deactivate the bomb. She'd trust Alma and work with her. Tails, she'd enjoy what little time she had left. She could have a lot of fun in the next few hours. Especially with a man as handsome as Kageyama. . . .

Tails.

Night Owl tossed the cell and coin back onto the rumpled bedclothes and went to find Kageyama.

* * *

Later, she lay on the bed beside him, watching his chest rise and fall as he slept. She envied his peaceful slumber—he slept soundly and deeply, oblivious to the bomb in the head of the woman beside him. His body was that of a man, lean and muscular, but his face, despite the mustache, had the blissful expression of a child. No—not quite blissful, Night Owl saw when she snuggled closer. A faint frown creased his forehead, which was otherwise completely unlined.

Night Owl was lying with a hand across Kageyama's smooth chest. As she shifted on the bed, her fingers brushed against the round blue stone he wore around his neck. It was the only piece of jewelry he wore. Intrigued by the translucence of the pendant, she gently lifted it and took a closer look. It was smooth on one side and had a Chinese character on the other. The character
fu
.

Night Owl swore softly, cursing her own stupidity. The pendant wasn't just a piece of blue stone. It was jade—the most expensive color of jade there was. What's more, the pendant was exactly the size of a coin, but much thicker.

The dragon Chiao had gotten it wrong when he'd sent her into the condoplex to steal the Coin of Luck.

It wasn't a statue that held the Fu Coin; it was this pendant.

Cautiously, she shifted position on the bed, lifting her other hand up and over Kageyama's chest. She pinched the chain in her fingers and slowly pulled it taut. One gentle pull would break it, and then the stone would be in her hands.

In her hands . . . She paused, trying to remember the image those words conjured up for her. Then she got it: she was holding something between her hands, palms together as if they were raised in prayer. She'd twisted . . .

As if of their own accord, her hands moved so that the pendant was between her palms, and she copied the twisting motion that was playing in her mind. The chain around Kageyama's neck lifted, but just at the point where it was about to tighten enough to awaken him, she felt something come apart inside her cupped hands. Carefully, barely daring to breathe for fear of awakening the man beside her, she opened her hands.

The two halves of jade had come apart, revealing a bronze coin with four characters on its uppermost surface. The Fu Coin.

What now? Night Owl listened for a moment, to assure herself that Kageyama's breathing was still deep and steady. Her eyes fell upon something on the sheets that glinted faintly in the bedroom's dim light: the coin she'd flipped earlier. She glanced between it and the one in her hands, measuring them with her eyes. They were about the same size—and were probably about the same weight.

Moving with the slow grace of a tai chi artist, Night Owl reached across Kageyama and lifted the coin from the bed, and then fit it inside the two halves of his jade. Slowly, she screwed the hollow pendant back together. Then she laid it back on his chest, as gently as a feather.

Fu Coin clutched in her hand, she eased herself out of bed. She scooped up the cellphone and her damp clothes and then slowly slid open the door, praying it wouldn't make too much noise.

Behind her, she heard a rustle of sheets. She glanced back over her shoulder, about to make up a quick excuse about needing the washroom, but saw that Kageyama's eyes were still closed. Or were they open, just a slit? Night Owl had the distinct impression that she was being watched.

Then she noticed a movement in the hallway outside the door. Peering out into the darkened corridor, she saw that one of the glass panels in the walls was flickering into life, glowing like a dimly lit monitor screen. Peering out from it was an elderly Asian man with a bald, age-spotted scalp: Kelvin, the mage who had purposely trapped his astral soul inside the glass, like a fly in amber. Kageyama had ordered him to remain outside the bedroom earlier. It looked as though he had taken the order literally.

"Mistress," he whispered in a voice as transparent as his glass. "Where are you going?"

There was no use in lying. Kelvin's astral presence permeated every centimeter of the condoplex; he would follow her wherever she went. "This place makes me claustrophobic," she told him. "I'm just going to step out for some air. If Kageyama asks where I've gone, tell him I'll be right back."

"As you wish," the mage said. He lowered his head in a bow, but just before he did, Night Owl saw a twinkle in his eye that reminded her of the knowing look Kageyama had given her, the night she'd come to the condoplex to steal the statue.

Frag it. She didn't have time to worry about it now. She had the Fu Coin, and she knew exactly who she was going to sell it to.

No, she corrected herself. Not sell—give. And in return she'd ask for information—for the data that would save her life as well as Alma's. She just hoped that Alma would appreciate it enough to let her continue to exist.

Fu Coin clenched firmly in her fist, she headed for the elevator that would take her up to the surface, the one place in this bolt hole where Kelvin couldn't watch and listen to her.

* * *

It was nearly noon, but Night Owl wouldn't have guessed that by the weather. The skies overhead were black with clouds, the air charged with electricity. Rain sheeted down in torrents with a deafening roar that blended with the constant thunder. It pounded against the shelter enclosing the wharf that served as vehicle causeway, helicopter landing pad and dock for the condoplex. Night Owl had to scream into the cellphone in order for Egon to understand her, and she barely heard the phone trill when the return call came in.

A few minutes later, she saw the lights of a sky cab approaching. They tilted suddenly left and then right, rising and falling as the cabbie fought to steer his helicopter through the high winds. Night Owl heard only fragments of engine noise, a dull
chuff-chuff-chuff
in the spaces between the constant, grumbling thunder.

A moment later the sky cab landed with a thud that rattled the platform under Night Owl's feet. The hatch opened, and Tiger Cat climbed down into the rain, holding on to the helicopter's hand grips to anchor himself against the push of the wind. By the time he fought his way into the shelter, he was as wet as if he'd swum out to the condoplex.

"You'd . . . better have . . . the coin," he said, shivering as he wiped rain from his face. "We nearly crashed getting here."

Behind him, the chopper engine revved. The pilot was holding the sky cab in place by brute force, using the rotors to force it down against the helipad.

Night Owl held up the Fu Coin. Tiger Cat stepped forward and took a good look at it, then waved a hand and spoke a few words in Cantonese. Tiger Cat's eyes settled into satisfied slits as he raised a hand, fingers extended to pluck it from her grasp.

Night Owl balled it in her fist. "You promised me information," she said.

Tiger Cat glanced nervously up at the skies as lightning flashed overhead, followed a second later by a boom of thunder that rattled the windows of the shelter. He cringed—and something in his eyes told Night Owl that he wasn't just worried about a lightning strike.

"Just information? You don't want to sell the coin for nuyen anymore? That's a very wise decision." Night Owl nodded. "That's right—no cred. Just the data you offered earlier. Give it to me—and hurry. I haven't got much time."

Tiger Cat inclined his head; Night Owl could see that he was going to spill the data in his own time, despite the fact that she was in a rush. "It was very clever of you to include an erase program on the credstick you gave Bluebeard," he began, "but Bluebeard's a smart man. He managed to copy the data before the program engaged. Then he called me to ask more about you. I told him the little bit I know—that you worked for Pacific Cybernetic. He took it from there and learned that you were suspended. He didn't discover why, but he did learn that you're under a death sentence. Do you know that there's a bomb inside your head?"

"I knew," Night Owl growled. She had no idea who Bluebeard was or what had transpired between him and Alma, but she could guess where Tiger Cat was headed—in fact, she'd already bet her life on it. "It's set to explode in less than an hour, at noon. Get to the fraggin' point."

Tiger Cat's eyes widened. Now that he understood her rush, he spoke more quickly. "That bomb can be deactivated by placing yourself in an alpha state. You have to maintain your brain waves between thirteen and eighteen hertz for precisely one minute, then return to normal brain activity for one minute. Then reenter an alpha state for forty-five seconds, then wait forty-five seconds. Then for thirty seconds, then for fifteen seconds. That's all it takes."

Night Owl nodded, realizing that it all fit. The key to defusing the bomb was a numeric sequence, just as Alma had predicted.

Tiger Cat held out his hand. "The coin, if you please. I must leave quickly, while the dragons are busy fighting."

Night Owl handed him the Fu Coin. He gave a brief bow, turned and fought his way back through the wind to the helicopter.