Chapter Twenty
We upgraded the Dome’s security after the Ring attacked Whittier Base. The ground floor used to be almost entirely open to the
public, with only an armored guard (Platoon) inside the main entrance to spot incoming threats and an observer at the reception
desk, usually Tom (also Platoon), to ride herd over the traffic in the Atrium. Now we had an extra station just inside the doors,
where a second pair of guards (still Platoon) handed out visitor badges to everyone entering. The monitored badge station gave
each visitor an unobtrusive biometric scan, matching them against our known-threat database, and the radio-tagged badges tracked
visitors’ movements throughout the Dome. Heat-sensitive, the badges couldn’t be removed without tripping an alarm, and they
triggered an alert if the wearer went where he wasn’t supposed to or stayed in one spot too long. Green badges meant public
access. Gold badges meant secure access; wearers could take the elevator down to the secure lobby, where Bob cleared them or shut
down the exits until they’d been “contained.” Paranoid, much?
Astra, Notes From a Life.
* * *
Dane arrived between tours, got a green badge, and headed for the almost empty museum. They gave me the heads-up when he arrived,
and I found him in the new First Sentinels Exhibit, staring at the life-sized wax figures that stood watch from behind glass at
the center of the room. Shelly closed the doors and locked us in.
He turned when he heard the latch.
“Mr. Dorweiler,” I said, pitching my voice lower. “Thank you for coming.” I held out my hand.
His eyes widened. “Excuse me? I’m here to meet… Crap on a cracker!”
Laughter burbled out of me. Using both hands, I peeled off the mask with its attached wig and ran my fingers through my bob.
“Dane? Dane? Hope to Dane? Yoo-hoo…” I got control of the laugh, but couldn’t stop grinning.
“Damnit Hope, you can’t—. No way—. Well, hell!”
“Uh huh. C’mon.”
Taking his hand, I pulled him over to the padded bench in front of the Blackout wall. I adjusted my cape as he cautiously sat
beside me, scowling ferociously.
“Damnit, Hope, I didn’t buy it for a moment—Annabeth would have been going nuts—but I was worried!”
I flushed, remembering my cover story for disappearing for training last September. I’d hated the returning-cancer-scare excuse
for my “leaving” just before the start of our freshman year.
“And when you came back and got that apartment here in the Loop instead of moving on-campus, I wondered… But you’re all still
as thick as thieves at school. This explains a lot. Didn’t you trust me?”
My breath hitched and my flush burned hotter. “I don’t know; it felt like, the fewer people knew the less real it was?” I
played with my cape, unable to meet his eyes.
“It was our first real fight, you know,” he said bitterly. “Me and Annabeth.”
My stomach sank. Annabeth was a cheerful ditz, Dane such a big good-natured goof, that I’d always wondered how they ever decided
anything or if they just agreed to whatever the other one wanted. Damn it, Annabeth shared everything. I owed her an apology for
not letting her share this, but now what could I say? The silence stretched, got painful.
“I’m sorr—” I started.
“Look—” He stopped and grunted, mussed his male-model curls.
“Pass,” he said. “We can talk about the foul some other time.”
I nodded, relieved. “So what can I do to help? Shouldn’t you be talking to Julie or Megan?”
“Megan would make unhelpful jokes and Julie would try and argue me into staying. I don’t need an argument, I need help. I can’t
lose Annabeth. And I can’t lose this opportunity. You know what it means to me.”
I nodded. I did—I’d been thinking about it all morning. Dane was only ever intense about one thing: The Game. As devoted as he
was to Annabeth, it always seemed like when he was off the soccer field he was just marking time. She couldn’t go with him, and
he couldn’t stay. I sighed. He’d been my second teen crush—and there was no way he ever going to learn that—and the thought of
the two of them not together made me physically ill.
His shoulders slumped when I didn’t say anything. “I was hoping… Hell, you’ve always been the smart one.”
“What? You’re confusing me with Julie.”
“Nope. Julie decides what you’re all going to do, but half the time you’re the one who suggests ways and means. Especially when
it gets tricky.”
“No, we just…” I sighed. “We all talk, and it happens. God, I miss it.”
“So let’s talk. There has to be something.”
I sighed again, chewing on a lock of hair. “Okay, so you have two objectives, right? Play professional soccer and keep Annabeth.
”
“Right.”
“And if you turn down this offer, you’re not likely to get another one unless you have an amazing college career. So let’s
define ‘keep Annabeth.’ Talk to me, Dane.”
“Well…”
“Still be Danabeth?”
“Yes!”
And I saw it, like staring at an optical puzzle for hours and suddenly have it turn into a pretty flower because you squinted just
right. It was simple. Not easy, but simple. I suppressed an eye-rolling, Shelly-style duh.
“Dane, I know you’ve always thought the Bees were inseparable, but didn’t you ever think about eventually? Like eventually you
’re going to move in together? Trade rings? Have a basket of babies? Real adult stuff?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“What you’ve got going now won’t work for this, not long distance with no goal in sight.” I stood up and paced. “If you’re
leaving town, Annabeth needs to know what she’s waiting for, so get down on one knee. Set a date for next year. Then go off and
give the Red Bulls the most amazing rookie year they’ve ever seen while racking up frequent-flyer miles. If you can’t convince
the Chicago Fire to take you after that and come home, well, Annabeth can go to school in New Jersey next year. Or one of you can
get on a plane every weekend.”
I held my breath and waited for his stunned look to pass. A wide grin slowly split his face.
“You think she’ll go for it?”
Well, duh. “I’ve only known her for three years and she’s still surprising me, but if you don’t think she’s already Annabeth
Dorweiler in her head, then you’ve taken too many hits from that ball.”
He stood up. “I’ve got Gram’s engagement ring, and I know Annabeth’s ring-size.”
Yes! “So go. Woo. Score one for the team. We can talk about my foul later.”
“The ref ignored it. So, Astra, huh?”
“Apparently.”
“What’s it like?”
A huge sigh. “I used to have time to at least think about boys,” I said wistfully.
He looked at Atlas’ figure, posed in his first, cheesy costume. “Is it true about…”
“Yeah. Everything but the scandalous bits.”
“I’m sorry.” He was bouncing to go, but he stopped himself. “Hope…” Grabbing my face, he kissed me hard. “I knew I could
depend on you. Thanks.” He was gone before I could catch my breath.
“Woo-hoo!” Shelly said, popping in beside me. “You know that’s on Dome video, right? Blackmail!”
“To your grave, Shell,” I said. “To your second grave.”
“Well, duh.”
* * *
By the time I’d gotten my mask back on and exited the museum, The Dane had left the building; now that he’d seen the goal, he
was driving for it. I waved to Tom at the reception desk, and then stared at the visitor talking to him. I’d only seen the man
once, on video, but he couldn’t be here.
“Shelly?” I whispered. “Call a security situation, Atrium, reception desk, quiet.”
“Done,” she confirmed through my earbug. “What—”
“That’s Mr. Moffat.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guards stiffen, but Tom didn’t react as I walked up to the desk. The atrium was nearly
empty. Good.
“Afternoon, Tom.” I nodded to our dead visitor. “Can I help you, Mr….?”
“Kitsune. Kit-SOO-neh,” he said, grinning cheerfully and offering his hand. “I was hoping to speak to Blackstone, but I don’t
have an appointment.”
We shook. Warm grip, pulse, all good. And nothing was going to start up here. I made myself smile back. “I’m afraid they gave
you the wrong badge. Tom, may we have a gold one?” Can I take this obvious but unknown superhuman downstairs?
“Of course, ma’am,” he said, handing our guest a new one and accepting the one he’d clipped to his tie.
“Thanks Tom. If you could let Blackstone know we’re coming, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course. Have a nice day.”
I walked Mr. Kitsune to the elevators, ushered him, in and hit the Lobby button. “Shelly,” I said as the doors closed.
“Lockdown, please.”
“Going down.” We dropped fast as I counted to five and Mr. Kitsune’s eyes widened. Our hard-stop brought him to his knees, and
the shaft rang as the titanium hatch above us slammed shut. Extending a hand, I helped him up.
“Lockdown, Mr. Kitsune, means we’re at the bottom of the shaft, sealed in and not going anywhere without authorization from
upstairs. You’re not getting an inch closer to Blackstone until I’m happy, and I’m pretty sure the worst bit is this damn
elevator music.” I didn’t mention all of the ways the elevator could neutralize its occupants—some of which could incapacitate
me.
He nodded. “I can see that, and it’s not ‘mister.’ Kitsune is Japanese for fox or fox-spirit.” His face changed, and for a
second she was the woman who walked out of the vault. Then she was a younger, red-headed girl with bright almond eyes. “And aren
’t you worried that I’m an inch away from you?”
“Nope. Barlow’s Guide to Superhumans: physical shapeshifting is almost always a solitary power. You can bleed on me if you’re
really determined.”
“There are other dangers,” she said. And suddenly she was Mom.
Her eyes flew wide when my left hand closed around her neck and squeezed gently. “Hope…” Shelly whispered, barely heard over
the blood pounding in my ears.
“I know I look like Barbie’s kid sister,” I said softly, cold and hard as Artemis. “But I can squeeze until you pass out, and
if you don’t change this freaking second I’m going to see what you look like unconscious.” I stopped talking, amazed I wasn’t
screaming out the rush of sick rage gathering in my chest. Smile gone, she jerked a constricted nod and changed back into the
half-Asian girl.
I forced myself to relax, loosening my grip till she gasped.
“You’re crazy!”
“And you just threatened my mother. Try again.”
“No! No! I didn’t mean anything by it!” Her voice shook, and suddenly I felt queasy. Cold, I dropped my hand. She took a
gulping breath, backing up as far as the elevator car allowed.
“I just wanted to… it was stupid.”
“No kidding. Blackstone.”
She rubbed her throat. “He’s met me, but not this face. I passed him some information on the Outfit before I dropped by the bank
last week. Look, they’re after me now—somehow they’re able to find me. But I can tell you all about them, who they’re working
for, if you’ll protect me.”
I looked up at the ceiling. “Blackstone?”
“Indeed, my dear.” He sounded quite pleased. “I’m aware of the incident to which she’s referring, and by all means we need to
speak.” I heard the pop as the shaft unsealed, and we started to rise. Then the lights turned red and siren-wails split the air.
“SECURITY BREACH IN DOME ATRIUM; INITIATING FULL LOCKDOWN AND EVACUATION.”