The Rule of Luck (29 page)

Deep down, I think I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. My past wasn't finished with me yet. The Tarot cards said as much, and my gut knew it too. Vadim's last words had sealed it: “
Someone will be in touch with the final details regarding the completion of your contract with the Consortium and ensure you are paid in full.
” The way he'd said it had been ominous. Some nights—when I wasn't having torrid dreams about Alexei—I'd wake up paralyzed with fear because of those words. Only once I'd dealt with the Consortium would I be free to move on. Unfortunately I was at their mercy, and I suspected they'd come for me when I least expected it.

Another month later, they did.

I was sitting in my chaise lounge in the room of decadent mystery Charlie Zero had created for me where I did all my readings, when Natty ushered in Konstantin Belikov. I'd thought I was ready for anything, but seeing the five-hundred-year-old Tsarist Consortium kingpin was still a shock. I jumped to attention. My first reaction was a relief so intense, it left me boneless. Fear followed, but at least now I could begin to hope that the confused existence I'd been living for the past three months would be over.

With him were two chain-breakers and a pretty blond woman who served as his nursemaid. Pervy old bastard. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes at the cliché. The chain-breakers waited by the door, arms crossed and wearing their ubiquitous shades, despite the fact that they were inside and it was night.

As Belikov shuffled across the carpet, I took a moment to be impressed the old man had come all this way to see me. Then irritation gripped me when I considered how long it had taken him to contact me in the first place. Then fear came again. Why send someone so high ranking in the Consortium to handle me? What had Belikov called me again? Oh yes, a gnat on an elephant's ass. Also, a baby. Anger was back. Good. I'd rather have that than fear.

“Mr. Belikov.” I moved around the table to meet him. “I'm honored you've come to my shop.”

He paused halfway to the chaise, a hand resting for support on the nursemaid's arm. “You look well, Felicia,” he said in the commanding voice I still remembered. “You seem to have bounced back quite admirably after recent events.”

Arrogant son of a bitch. I wasn't going to play that game with him—the game where he wanted to prove his pain and loss were greater than mine, so mine meant nothing. “It's so good to see you too.”

“That is a bald-faced lie,” he accused, resuming his shuffling walk.

“True enough, but I told it well. Besides, I've been waiting so long for someone to get in touch with me, I suppose it's good to see just about anyone. If that's how your organization works, it's a wonder you get anything done.”

He scowled at me, then seated himself in the chaise with the nursemaid's help. She placed herself behind him, her face pleasantly blank. I suspected she didn't speak much English. “The Consortium always honors its agreements.”

“And it only took you three months to do it.”

“For an organization that's existed nearly a millennium, I would say our record is impeccable,” he mused. Then he gave me a hard look. “Consider what you took from us, Felicia. Look at how this arrangement with you has affected the Consortium. Is it any wonder we didn't rush back with payment for services rendered?”

I returned to my chair with as much grace as I could muster, fighting hard not to show he'd scored a direct hit. Pain lanced through my chest—not as sharp or ravaging as it had once been, but still there. I bowed my head and took a moment to collect myself until I could meet his milky green eyes without tears. “I understand. You got what you wanted, but not at the price you expected to pay. I know this doesn't make up for it, but I'm sorrier than you know for what happened. If I could do it over again, I would have done anything I could to stop events from unfolding the way they did.”

Belikov cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. Maybe he hadn't liked the honest sincerity of my answer. “The Consortium will be depositing the agreed upon amount into your shop's account, plus whatever interest would have accrued over the past three months. We have also begun the process of revoking the blacklisted status for both you and your family. Without your mother's pressure and TransWorld's meddling, it should be finalized soon.”

A tiny thrill went through me. Not for me, but for my family. I hadn't expected the Consortium to honor that request so it came as an unexpected gift. “Thank you. This means the world to us.”

He made what I could only describe as a gruff, grumpy old man noise and shifted restlessly in his chair. “
Pozhaluysta
. You're welcome.”

Awkward silence descended. The meeting felt like it had come to its end with Belikov making all the motions of a man about to leave. Desperation gripped me. I had a feeling if I let him go, the Consortium would be finished with me forever. “May I ask a question?”

He paused in his fidgeting. “It will have to be quick. I have other appointments to keep.”

“Yes, I'm sure you do. It's just that night in Brazil…Why did he go back? I keep racking my brain, going over events until I think I've gone insane. It gives me nightmares and sometimes…Well, never mind. I guess I just can't understand what happened. Everything was finished. We'd won. My mother would have died when the building vaporized. He could have escaped with the rest of us. Instead, he went back. Why? Why not just let her go?”

Belikov looked at me with sudden pity. “We didn't understand it either.”

“But you do now,” I urged.

“From what our tech-meds pieced together after examining the data, your mother planned to upload all her research to the CN-net. She felt she had nothing to lose so she decided to unleash years of studies and experiments for all the world to see. She'd started her transmission, of which we received a partial sample. We recognized it for what it was only because we knew of you and her research. Few others had that luxury. Alexei stopped the transmission before it went viral.”

I frowned. “I don't understand. You said the luck gene is an unpredictable nuisance. What does it matter if people know? The clones didn't need to die. I know the Consortium didn't want to be caught, but there was nothing in that building he had to risk his life over.”

“Yes, you're right. Luck is unstable. We've studied the effects and know the results. The rest of the world doesn't. To the average person, it would be wonderful to have a perceived edge over their neighbor. Who wouldn't want luck at their command? The unfortunate thing is, the only way they could have this luck for themselves would be through you or the clones. You are the only person on record with a verified luck gene. If that were made common knowledge, the existence you have now would end and you'd be hounded to death. And if the clones had lived, they would have been bought and sold like cattle. We would have had a race of slaves on our hands—slaves that would have been a source for countless wars throughout the tri-system. That's what Alexei stopped. He went back to stop the upload to protect you.”

It took several moments for it to sink in before I started to cry. Silent tears ran down my cheeks that I rushed to wipe away. He'd sacrificed everything, including his chance at immortality, just to save me. Once, I'd wondered if he'd ever cared enough about anyone to die for them. Apparently yes, he had: me. More tears fell. I wiped them away, blew my nose, and tried to pull myself together under Belikov's watchful gaze.

“Thank you for telling me. If anything, I think I feel worse than I did before. It doesn't seem a fair trade—his life for my peace of mind.”

“Perhaps, but he chose to view it otherwise.” Then he looked at me, puzzled. “Your reaction surprises me. I'd thought you'd moved on. Isn't that what you young people do? No one stays together for long anymore—not as we did before the Dark Times. I thought only sexual conquest and gratification mattered. Without fear of disease or unwanted pregnancies, why stay together? Isn't that how it works?”

“You sound like my friends, but no, that's not how it works. At least, not for me.”

“So you're pining for a dead man? Don't tell me you believed yourself in love with him? You've been apart far longer than you were ever together,” Belikov said, then laughed with terrible humor.

I winced at the implication. Based on his laughter, he clearly thought me a fool and my feelings, whatever they were, to have no merit. Still, I felt I had to clarify.

“No, I didn't love him,” I admitted. “I was attracted to him and I cared about him, but it wasn't love. At least not yet, anyway. I think I may have been on the verge of it or I wouldn't still feel his loss this strongly. We just didn't have enough time. If we'd had more, we could have hashed through all the secrets and lies between us and figured it out. We could have…” I sighed. Two of Cups, reversed yet again. “I guess it doesn't matter now anyway.”

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed. This time, he did rise from his chair. The nursemaid was beside him and offering assistance, smiling prettily and displaying her cleavage. “I wish you well in your endeavors, Felicia. You may call on the Tsarist Consortium should you require help in the future; however, I would suggest you not abuse the privilege.”

He was on his way out when my gut kicked me so hard, it was a wonder I didn't fall out my chair.

“Wait!” I cried, getting up. “There's one thing I'd like. Something I've been thinking about for a while.”

Belikov looked irritated, but listened. “Yes? What is it?”

“I'd like to go to Mars.”

No one was happy with my decision. Hell, even I wasn't happy—not at first. Yet the more I thought about Mars, the more excited I became. I'd have to start over, but it wasn't like I hadn't been at the bottom before. Charlie was upset, as was Natty. Charlie and I had several bitter fights about the partnership and dissolving the assets. I ended up giving him the bulk of the profits just to shut him up. I also gave Natty a healthy severance package which she used to apply to cooking school through the Career Design program as an adult seeking a career change. I ran the cards on her success and the odds came up in her favor, thrilling her. Charlie eventually came around and gave me the name of a friend I could contact on Mars. However, I had to promise I would always shim him regarding any business ventures and not sign anything until I spoke with him first.

My family was furious with me for taking Granny G's cards off-world. One pain in the ass cousin even said the cards wouldn't work in space. Seriously. Sometimes it seemed I was related to morons. I didn't mention the blacklisted business to anyone but Rainy since it affected him directly. The rest of the family hadn't been aware of the issue, so I didn't see a point in upsetting them further. I wouldn't look like a hero and it would just raise questions. Rainy was thrilled, forgave me for being a bitch—his exact words—and reconciled with his wife.

As for my condo, I didn't know if I'd use it again, but didn't want to sell it either. Once you left Earth, you stayed where you went, unless you were ultra-rich. And even then, a move to Mars tended to be permanent. Still, I didn't want to feel like I'd cut ties. Gods only knew what could happen in the future. In the end, I gave the condo back to the Consortium with the understanding I could resume ownership if I so desired.

At the same time, I began the labor-intensive process of filing for permission to immigrate to Mars. It was a nightmare not worth describing, especially given my limited CN-net access. Everything seemed to take twice as long and was three times as difficult. I constantly had to explain my future plans for employment and residency on Mars once the space elevator anchored in the Utopian Ocean spit me out. Apparently the Martian branch of One Gov didn't want freeloaders crashing their party. I had to outline in triplicate my plan to contact Charlie Zero's friend in Elysium City—the largest east coast urban center on Mars and rival to Olympia on the west—and open my shop as a Tarot card reader. Since it was a novel idea, Mars had nothing like it, and I had a modest reputation throughout Kenya, they also gave me a grant to help with relocation expenses. That, of course, meant more forms and more explaining.

I kept an anxious eye on the date, praying the timing worked out. With its revolutionary propulsion system, the
Martian Princess
could complete the trip between Earth and Mars in forty-two standard Earth days. If all went well, my paperwork and grant applications would be approved the day before the star cruiser docked at the GLC Space Station, the counterweight for Tsiolkovsky Tower One and launchpad to Mars. Otherwise, it would be months before I could catch the next ship.

I needn't have worried. Either it was luck, or the Consortium working behind the scenes to get me off-planet and out of their hair, but everything came through on time. Two months to the day I'd told Belikov I wanted to go to Mars, I sat in the guest lounge on the low-g launch platform, drinking coffee and waiting to board the
Martian Princess
. The coffee tasted awful no matter how much cream and sugar I added.

As I stirred, I couldn't help but remember the time I'd been in this same situation, seated and stirring much like I was now. That had been almost half a year ago on the trip to Denver after the Consortium's private jet had exploded. I'd been a nervous wreck, yet Alexei coolly answered questions from One Gov security until he'd secured our release. I'd been in awe at the ease with which he'd handled the situation—all situations really. He had the world eating out of the palm of his hand. Except me, I suppose. With me, he made a complete and total mess of things. Or had he? It was difficult to remember now. So much time had passed, I couldn't remember all the reasons for my anger. And now, it didn't matter because he was gone and I was starting a new life somewhere else. Even if he had lived, what would we have in common? He would have been head of the Tsarist Consortium, pushing its agenda throughout the tri-system. Where would I have fit in that world? I couldn't imagine us ever having a happy ending. It didn't bear thinking about now.

I took another sip of the horrible coffee and watched the other travelers—people of all ages, some with a child and others without. On Mars, I'd heard the Shared Hope program regulations weren't as strict. Maybe I'd find someone there and…No. Ironically, I wasn't interested in a baby now. With my blacklisted status revoked, the urge that had driven me so recklessly was gone. If it were possible, I would have found my luck gene and kicked its ass for putting me through such misery. Now that it had what it wanted, it was no longer interested.

From my vantage point, I could also see the high-orbit flights leave. These would be people off to TT2 to either catch the star cruiser to Venus, or transferring to other commercial high-orbit flights. It made for a busy, congested area. You could easily lose who you were with if you weren't paying attention. Or, find someone you had no interest in seeing…

“Hello, Felicia.”

I glanced up at the familiar voice and froze. Roy stood over my table, gazing down at me. He was rough around the edges, his sandy-blond hair unkempt and his cheeks badly in need of shaving. His clothing was threadbare and frayed, and I noted a faded stain on the jacket lapel. A single black duffel sat beside his scuffed boots.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked and sat before I could say anything. “I saw you through the glass and thought I'd stop by for old time's sake. It's a surprise to see you here. You look good.”

Maybe I did, but he didn't. “What are you doing here?” I asked, voice cold. It was the first time I'd laid eyes on him since Denver. Long-buried rage bubbled up.

“Just a stopover until my connection leaves for TT2. I'm bound for Venus. What about you? Off to Mars? I remember you always being fascinated by it.”

I stared at him. Did he expect us to have a normal conversation? “Where're your wife and baby?” I blurted instead.

“They were denied travel permits. I got a position on Venus with one of the mining companies staking land claims there. After TransWorld, it was all I could get.”

Working in the mines on Venus was the next best thing to a death sentence. A Phobos penal cell would be kinder. The pay was phenomenal, but most still considered Venus an uncivilized, stinking hell.

“What do you want me to say? Sorry you're going to Venus. Sorry your family can't join you. Sorry you lost your job at TransWorld pretending to be my loving boyfriend and reporting my every movement to them.” I stood up, grabbing my travel case containing my cards. “Excuse me, but I think I'll wait somewhere else. The air's gotten unpleasant here.”

I stormed from the lounge, pushing my way through a crowd fighting its way to different launch platforms. Where was my gate again? Right, at the far end of the terminal, 52F. The cruiser wasn't ready for boarding yet, but maybe if I made a nuisance of myself, they'd get things moving.

“Felicia, wait!” Roy cried, jogging up beside me to catch my arm. “We need to talk.”

“Like hell we do! We have nothing to say to each other!” I snarled, fighting to yank myself free. His fingers dug in deeper and I winced. “Let me go!”

“Not until we talk. You may have nothing to say, but I do,” he said in a low voice.

That voice terrified me. My gut agreed. I tried to spin away, but he held my left arm in a crushing grip. With a determined jerk, he pulled me after him and hustled me down the first deserted hallway he found. I fought him, but he was too strong and I was too unsteady in my spiky heels. Then we rounded another corner until he stopped in a gray, nondescript, and badly lit corridor—away from all the noise and out of sight. He whipped me against the far wall, hurtling me with all his strength. My right shoulder hit the concrete and I yelped with pain.

“You ruined my life!” he unleashed on me. “Every awful, fucked-up thing that's happened to me is your fault. I lost my job on Earth. Up until a month ago, we were supposed to go to Mars. Then the job dried up and I got transferred to Venus. My family's still on Earth and I'm never going to see them again. I'm going to fucking die on Venus, and that's your fault too. It's all your fucking fault!”

“You're crazy! How the hell could I pull off something like that? I don't have that kind of power.” I snarled the words while rubbing my aching shoulder.

He paced in front of me. “I keep remembering what you said in Denver. That if it took the rest of your life, you'd destroy me. That's how I knew it was you. You're connected to the Consortium and they wanted TransWorld to lose the bid. I can't prove it, but I know I'm right.”

“You're delusional. You were the one pretending to love me, not the other way round. You were the one who was married with a baby on the way! Gods, a baby! Do you have any idea…?” I stopped. I would never tell him about my failed dreams.
Never.
“I'm the one who gets to be angry, not you! Do you know how messed up I was once I learned the truth? I didn't know who my friends were or if the people who claimed to love me actually cared! You fucked up both our lives!”

I didn't expect the backhanded blow to my face. I really didn't. When my gut warned me, I took a step back, but not enough to avoid it. I stumbled against the wall, hitting my head. Pain blossomed and I crumpled at the impact, falling to the concrete on my knees and tearing my skirt. Sadly, I didn't pass out—which would have been nice, if only to avoid the pain. Instead I tasted blood and saw stars.

“You stupid bitch! You don't get it. I'm a dead man. My life is over. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but once I'm on Venus, I'm done.” Roy crouched over me, his hands reaching for my neck. “I'm just glad I found you in time. Now I can take you with me.”

I closed my eyes against both the tightening of his fingers around my throat and the sight of his face distorted by hatred. Vaguely I wondered why he felt his anger should trump my own. Neither of us had gotten what we wanted.

“This is restricted area. Unauthorized personnel not allowed.”

The speaker was male, his words mangled by an almost unintelligible Russian accent. I opened my eyes to see two chain-breakers looming over us in identical suits and shades, with only their hair coloring to differentiate them. One blond. One black haired. I wasn't sure which had spoken, though it hardly mattered. The blond tore Roy's hands away from my throat and grabbed him in a similar hold. With easy strength, he hauled Roy up until his feet dangled in midair. Then he proceeded to walk down the hall, holding Roy at arm's length as if he reeked of the foulest stench. The last I heard before they disappeared were Roy's choking whimpers and the clicking of the chain-breaker's shoes as he walked away.

The other chain-breaker helped me stand and gathered my discarded travel case, hoisting it over one massive shoulder. I swayed on my feet, the ground spinning with sickening speed.

“You need to catch flight. Cruiser leaving soon,” he said in broken English. You'd think the Consortium would be able to afford better security. Although, maybe language skills weren't a priority. Something to wonder about later, I decided. Right then, I had bigger fish to fry.

“I'm not usually a fainter,” I told him, “but I'm having a terrible day.”

At which point, I threw up all over his shoes and passed out.

When I woke, I was aboard the
Martian Princess
, in my cabin. I also had a ship's medic hovering over me with worried brown eyes.

“You're awake. Glad you've decided to rejoin us. That's quite a bump on the head you have, and your lip is swollen. Nothing a web-compress can't handle. I've applied them to both trauma areas and you should be good as new shortly.”

I sat up, taking in my room, my luggage on the floor, the huge bay window showcasing the Earth's blue-green horizon and the edge of black space beyond. The female medic and I were the only ones in the room. She was a pretty redhead, looking crisp and professional in her white uniform. There was a red cross over her right breast and the
Martian Princess
star-and-crown emblem over the left.

I touched my lip, feeling a lump of fabric. The same for the back of my head. “I don't remember what happened. How did I get here?”

The medic's brow wrinkled in confusion and she rose from her perch on the bed. “I'm not sure. I was called up from the infirmary and told to wait in your cabin. Then, a man brought you in. Tall, dark haired. Russian, I think. Scared the bejesus out of me, to be honest. Told me to stay with you until you woke or I'd be fired. Didn't say if he'd be back, but that he had other business to attend to.”

“Yeah, they're like that.” So Consortium security had kept tabs on me. Nice to know Belikov was so thorough in his hustle to get me off-world. I just wished he'd been on the case sooner. “He didn't say anything else?”

“No, nothing,” she said, edging toward the door. “If you're feeling better, I need to get back to the infirmary. We're launching soon and there are always people who panic at the outset. Plus with the two-hour launch delay, there's more concern going round than usual. Nothing to be worried about, but people are still people.”

“Two-hour delay? What happened?”

The woman's eyes went wide. “You won't believe it! A man leaped from the station! He was in a restricted area, opened one of the cargo delivery doors, and jumped. Awful. At this height, you don't fall to Earth. You just float away, and in the vacuum of space, you depressurize and well…You explode. It's a gruesome way to go.”