The Gryphon Project (22 page)

Her father took her other hand, and with her mother and auntie holding hands in front of them, they were led like so many wary tourists down an echoing hall lined with windows on either side, the sunlight pouring in despite the group’s sombre mood. At the end of the hall was a lounge, and this is where they were left, with the lawyers, to wait for the Chrysalis executive who’d arranged the meeting. There was a table of snacks to one side of the door, a spread of fresh fruit and expensive cheeses, pâté, and croissants alongside silver carafes of tea and coffee and a pitcher of orange juice with slices of orange floating on top.

“It’s like the continental breakfast at Hôtel l’Atelier,” Eva muttered none too kindly. “As if any of us could eat.”

The family maybe not, but the lawyers were convening around the buffet, stacking muffins and fruit atop dainty china plates and talking quietly among themselves, casting glances back at Phoenix and her relatives every once in a while.

“Hôtel l’Atelier?” Auntie Trish said, to fill the gaping silence.

“Oscar and I and the children stayed there, in Paris.”

“Ah.” Auntie Trish nodded. “That time you went to the medical conference.”

The sisters fell into silence with the others while the lawyers eagerly grazed.

Suddenly, the door swept open and in stalked a pair of Chrysalis executives, a matching set, both women wearing pointy black high-heeled shoes and smart pantsuits, without the jackets, as if to convey a casual friendliness, approachability. Behind them by a royal couple of steps came Lex, and with him the rep who’d been to the house almost a week earlier, and bringing up the grim parade was Lex’s assistant, Aggie. She was the only one of the party to look each family member in the eye, offering them a small, conciliatory smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson-Lalonde,” the first woman said, arm extended. “You’ve been offered tea? Coffee? How have you been managing since we last met?”

Phee narrowed her eyes at the woman. So this was who her parents had been meeting with since Gryph’s death. And her colleague, who was giving orders to Aggie discreetly, their heads together. Aggie scurried off, catching Phee’s eye as she did. Phee tried to read her look, but couldn’t, and wasn’t sure Aggie was trying to send her a message anyway. She did seem relieved to be sent away on whatever errand it was.

Phoenix and her family had been huddled together on two loveseats, ignoring the expanse of furniture available to them in the room. With a glance, the second woman asked Lex to bring chairs for them, and soon they were sitting across from the family, with only the sleek coffee table as a buffer between them. The lawyers positioned themselves in a lounge chair each, two on either side of the family. They remained silent and official-looking, waiting for Eva or Oscar to bring them into the discussion, their laptops open and ready on low tables beside them.

“Thank you for coming down today.” The first woman was clearly the communicator, the other woman the overseer. While the first woman talked, she leaned over and whispered something to Lex, and he got up and quickly returned with two boxes of tissue, which he slid onto the coffee table. “Let’s get started.”

“As some of you may know, I am Nora Hueson, executive director of recon services. And my colleague”—here she gestured to the second woman—“is Tamara Shapiro, executive director of client relations. Lionel Campbell, your client liaison officer. You know Lex, of course.”

Eva nodded for everyone, while Oscar offered Lex a more familiar smile.

Hueson leaned forward, hands clasped, trying—Phee assumed—for an intimacy she was not going to get in return from the family. “We’ve asked you to come down today so we can discuss, in person, recent developments with the decedent’s file.”

“Gryphon,” Phee blurted without thinking. “His name is Gryphon Nigel Nicholson-Lalonde.”

Shapiro blinked kindly at Phee while Hueson carried on. “We have some reports to share with you.”

Lex handed a stack of pods to the family, including Phee’s grandmother, who hadn’t ever figured out how to use them. “You can follow along with me as I go over it on the screen.”

Eva and her sister shared a grim look. Oscar clutched his wife’s hand, not touching the pod set in front of him. Phee tapped the screen of hers, and the swirling Chrysalis logo, a helix that rebuilt itself over and over, brightened the little screen. The lights in the room dimmed, and the same image appeared on the wall opposite the couches. The lawyers shuffled their positions for a better view. Phee’s heart sank. This wasn’t going in any direction that could be called good.

“Starting with the data transfer from the decedent’s logger,” Hueson said, referring to the tiny microchip imbedded into all citizens shortly after birth that recorded vital signs in a ten-minute loop, and also notified Chrysalis immediately upon death. She aimed a laser pointer at a column of numbers to one side of the image. “These are the epinephrine and norepinephrine levels produced by the adrenergic nerve terminals in the autonomic nervous system in the moments leading up to the time of death.
You’ll notice the elevated levels were consistent over a period of nine minutes and forty seconds before the incident.”

“Accident,” Phee said, adding as much heft to the one word as she could.

Another placating smile from the Shapiro woman.

“These findings are in line with research that indicates people experiencing heightened sensations not typically consistent with a genuine ‘accident’—”

PHEE BLANKED OUT
the woman’s voice. With Hueson droning on about this number and that level of whatever chemical indicator, Phee took a moment to consider exactly what was happening. By now she was sure they were here for bad news, and that any moment Hueson and Shapiro would announce that Chrysalis would not be reconning her brother.

And then what? Phee could feel her pulse quicken at the thought, and tried to calm herself. And then … then the lawyers would make themselves useful and demand an extension. They’d take Gryphon’s case to arbitration. It would only mean he’d be gone a little longer. He’d miss the X Games, but maybe Saul would be back by the time he was. Phee smiled to herself. It was easy, in a way, to imagine Saul and Gryph off on some big adventure. Except, she reminded herself, that wasn’t the case at all. Gryph was being kept in stasis somewhere in the labyrinth of this facility, and Saul was God knows where.

“—oxygen in the blood was also indicative of a wilful action in the moments before the incident.”

“Spare us, please.” Phee’s mom broke in. “I’m sure I speak not only for myself but for all of us sitting here listening to you blathering on with your ‘findings.’” Hueson sat back a little in her chair, knowing full well that she was about to receive the ire of a grieving mother. Clearly she’d been to this very place before, if not often.

“Perhaps we should take a little break?” Hueson offered.

“Or perhaps,” Eva snapped back, “you could just tell us Chrysalis’s decision so that we can arrange ourselves accordingly.”

“Excuse me. One moment …” Hueson held up a finger and then tapped her phone bud tucked in her ear beside a gleaming diamond earring. “Hueson … Yes, thank you,” she said to whoever was on the other end of the call.

Within seconds there were footsteps out in the corridor, and then the door opened and Fawn fled across the room to Eva, flinging herself into her mother’s lap.

“What’s going on?” Eva said, thoroughly confused.

“Liam?” Oscar met his brother-in-law’s entrance with the twins in tow with a perplexed look. Trailing behind them was Phee’s granddad, shuffling along, unperturbed. He greeted his wife with a broad grin and kissed each of his daughters on the top of her head as if they were little girls. He cast a suspicious look at the Chrysalis people.

“You go on, get outta here.”

Phee reached for his hand. “They work here, Granddad.”

“Oh yes!” He smiled at her suddenly and handed her a quarter. “Off you go and ride the carousel with your sister, Eva.”

Phee and her mother shared a look, and then Eva started again with the questions.

“Why have you brought them here? We made the decision—as a family—about who would stay home and who would come today.”

Hueson smiled, the lines at the corners of her mouth stretching as if in an odd exercise. “We felt it was appropriate for you all to be together.”

“What patronizing drivel!” Eva leaped to her feet, sending Fawn scrambling. Eva balled her fists at her sides and glared at the Chrysalis executive. “We are not your pawns, nor are we your responsibility. Get to the point, and get to it fast, or I will sic each and every one of these lawyers on you so fast you’ll be out of a job before you can get out of this room!”

“Your son will not be reconned.” Hueson took a breath. “The decision is final. I am sorry.”

Oscar gasped. “Dear Lord …”

Eva pulled Fawn to her instinctively, protectively. “That’s impossible.” As she spoke, she reached blindly for Phee too, her eyes locked on Hueson, imploring her to say more, say differently. Phee moved into her mother’s embrace, as the twins found the toy corner and their stunned father went to keep an eye on them.

Phee’s grandma took her husband’s hand and held on tight, her eyes tearing. Phee’s auntie Trish stood alone, not sure what to do. Fawn blinked up at her mother, aware that she should cry but not understanding exactly why.

“Are we getting Gryph back today?”

“Yes,” Eva said firmly, eyes still on Hueson. “We are.”

The lawyers huddled, voices meshing into a cacophony as they planned their strategy.

“You can’t do this!” Eva’s voice was shaky, and growing louder. “You
cannot
do this! He didn’t kill himself! He didn’t! I don’t know why you’re making an example of him, because he’s done nothing but earn you money and prestige …
nothing!
You’re … you’re … you people are making a terrible mistake!”

“We are confident of our findings.” Hueson slipped her laser pointer into her pocket. “The decision is final. I am sorry.”

“You’re not sorry! You’re punishing him because he’s come in second a couple of times!”

“His recent athletic performance has nothing to do with this.”

“You knew he wanted out of his contract!” Eva broke away from her daughters and lunged at the woman, grabbing her around her throat and squeezing. “You’re punishing him for that?”

“Let go of me!” Hueson croaked.

Shapiro leaped to her feet and pressed an intercom button on the wall. “Security! Annex Room, immediately!” Lex rushed forward and pried Eva off.

“You bitch! You horrible, horrible bitch!” Eva crumpled to the floor as the lawyers rushed forward to calm Hueson, who patted her throat as if she’d merely lost a necklace. Eva stayed on her
knees, sobbing. Oscar knelt beside her, leaning his forehead against hers, murmuring to her, trying to calm her down.

Phee was stunned.

Not so much by her mother’s outburst, but by her very vocal admission to knowing that Gryph wanted out of his contract. Phee had thought she was the only one who’d been thinking that.

“And if he’s reconned, he can’t compete for you anymore,” Phee murmured in agreement. “He’s not worth anything to you now.”

“Not true,” Hueson said, having heart. “As I have already said, his performance is an entirely separate issue. It is no secret that we have had concerns about his recent commitment—or lack thereof—to his contract. But we are more than capable of separating our sponsorship relationship with him from our larger role— and responsibility—of organizing recons.”

Security came and stayed, and the other Chrysalis executive took over representing the organization while the lawyers went off with Nora Hueson to discuss the options, if there were any at all.

The one called Shapiro addressed the family, speaking clearly.

“The reason we’ve gathered everyone is so that you can have a last visit with Gryph as he is now.”

Horror washed over Phoenix. She did not want to see him dead.

Beside her, Oscar blanched. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Please, Ms. Shapiro, could my family have a moment alone?”

“Of course.” Shapiro retreated into the hallway, taking the security guards with her. She left the family in a bewildered state, hovering close to each other like skittish wild horses, except the twins, who frolicked with the expensive toys provided by Chrysalis, and Phee’s granddad, who wasn’t sure what was going on. Even Fawn understood the gravity of the situation, and kept herself small and folded up, pressing against Phee for comfort.

Without protest from anyone—even Phee’s uncle, who was an ardent atheist—Oscar prayed on behalf of everyone in the room. When he was done, he asked each one of them if they wanted to
see Gryphon. Eva did, of course. She would take any opportunity to see him, spend time with him, no matter what. And Phee, despite her fears, wanted to as well. Her grandmother wanted to at first, but then changed her mind. Fawn refused from the outset. Her auntie Trish and uncle Liam would pay their respects too, after Phee and her parents went first.

PHEE AND HER PARENTS
were led to a viewing room, where a glass pane with curtains drawn closed on the other side filled one whole wall. In front of it stretched a low, cushioned bench, with discreet boxes of tissue set atop low tables positioned at either end. They were alone in the room once the heavy door sighed shut behind them. After what seemed like a very long wait, the curtains were drawn, exposing another, smaller room. That room was bare, except for soft lighting and a track that ran along the floor.

Phee stepped up to the glass as a set of heavy doors swung open at one end, and a sleek metal capsule slid along the track, stopping in front of her.

“He’s in there,” Eva said, her voice thick. She sat on the bench, her back to the window. “I don’t want to see him like this.” A sob caught in her throat. “I can’t!”

A buzzer sounded, and the capsule locked into place. A moment later, it opened like a clamshell, revealing another smooth, clear capsule within.

And there was Gryph.

He rested suspended in a milky fluid, lit from below so that his new skin practically glowed. His eyes were closed. They’d halted the recon after reknitting his bones and repairing the external damage, right down to the gryphon tattoo on his arm, so he looked as if he were just asleep in a very small, quiet ocean.