“Do you really think the U.S. government is going to sell to a foreign nation?” I ask. It feels a little rude, but at this point I’m flustered, and want to keep him talking. “I saw you with Drucker the other night. But she seems pretty friendly with Teller.”
“I do not trust Drucker, but I never really did. You understand this sale is happening because this entire location is underfunded, correct? And who writes the budget to fund this place?” He holds a gold-ringed finger in the air. “The committee that Drucker sits on. There is only one language she understands, and lucky for me, I speak it as well. Better than a cut-rate businessman who would be living in a ditch if not for his father’s money.”
Before I can say anything, the doors open on the lower level. There’s a group of TEA agents standing there, and they eye us, but no one stops me. Which annoys me, even though I’m not technically in charge anymore.
We move into the hallway, heading for the summit room, and MKS asks, “You do not believe me, that the timestream heals itself?”
“I think we’re seeing firsthand what happens when you mess with the timestream,” I tell him. “The hotel…”
“The hotel was here and it will be here,” he says. “So will the timestream. I appreciate your concern. It makes me respect you all the more. I can see why Eshe likes you.”
I glance at Eshe and I am sure that if I could see her face, her cheeks would be red.
“But remember, I have hired the best experts, and this is what they have told me,” he says. “That the timestream can bear it.”
“Right,” I tell him. “But did they say that because they’re the best, or because they’re the best at telling you what you want to hear?”
He takes my hands and shakes them again. “Thank you for your dedication. It is not lost on me. We will speak again when this is over.”
And he takes his entourage down the hall, leaving me there, finally understanding how bad this is going to end up being.
I thought these men were just greedy. But no. It’s worse than that. They’re zealots, and the only thing they believe in is themselves. They’re so used to getting what they want, to being told yes that the word no doesn’t even exist in their language, at least not when directed at them. The very idea that they could want something and not have it is something they can’t process. All light, all gravity, bends around that.
They’ve been conditioned by their own success to believe they can’t do anything wrong. And because of that they’re going to kill us all.
The lights flicker and my stomach bottoms out. A Pavlovian response. It takes me a minute to realize why. I don’t even need Ruby to confirm it for me. Every time something bad has happened, the lights tend to flicker first.
* * *
—
I figured Allyn would miss the southern door of Lovelace. It leads into a maintenance hallway, which leads into a kitchen, which I assume is not being used right now, because we never talked about there being food service at this. So I duck through some back hallways until I emerge in the ballroom, and lo and behold.
The place is a mess of activity. They are definitely breaking the rule I had set about how many people could be in here at one time. The place is packed—the most important people crowded in the middle, and everyone else backed off. It works in my favor; no one notices me, so I move to the side, into a shadow, so maybe I’m not as noticeable.
In the center of the room is Drucker, surrounded by the four tables with the bidders, all of whom are sitting by themselves, their various team members scattered throughout.
Warwick is talking to some guys from Saudi Arabia. Grayson is hovering over Teller’s shoulders. Davis, as always, is alone, smiling serenely. The only person I don’t see here is Nik, but I imagine he’s back up in the office, or over by the scanners. They probably figured out the issue with the cameras by now. I go to ask Ruby if that’s the case and realize, again, it’s not here with me.
Drucker is holding a wireless microphone, and she taps the top of it. The sound booms through the room, and most of the conversations stop, attention turning toward her. She adjusts a knob on the side of the mic until it’s down to a more acceptable level. “Welcome, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me…”
That makes me laugh a little. Self-centered bitch.
“…I’m United States Senator Danica Drucker. And we’re here today to accept bids for control of the Einstein Intercentury Timeport and the Paradox Hotel. You’ve all read and consented to the terms and conditions in the briefing documents. President Everett wanted me to pass along his best wishes for a fair and orderly process. He regrets being unable to attend, but as you can imagine, we’ve had to be a little flexible in order to maintain security, and I want to thank you all for your decorum and your patience throughout this bumpy process…”
Bumpy? A guy got killed by a fucking dinosaur.
“…And I would like to give some special recognition to Allyn Danbridge of the TEA for his hard work in putting this together…”
Aww, not going to thank me?
“…As well as the hotel staff, for their selfless sacrifice in impossible conditions. They are the true heroes here.”
Selfless. Right. Because they chose to get tossed out of their rooms. My new life goal is to fistfight this woman.
“So,” Drucker says, “as we all discussed, we will begin by…”
“I would like to start the bidding,” MKS says, “at one trillion dollars.”
Everyone stops cold.
The words hang in the air, a monolith MKS has dropped into the center of the room and now everyone else has to navigate around.
Then the crowd erupts into chaos.
“That’s not how this…” Drucker says.
“How dare you…” Teller says.
“Now it’s a party!” Kolten booms into his own mic.
Osgood just smiles and laughs.
There’s more, but the words drown out for me.
Across the room I catch a weird stutter. Like there’s something in the fluid of my eyes, and I’m about to blink and rub them when I see it again. Something warping the air and the light around it, but then it’s gone.
Then back again. A flicker.
It’s hard to focus on when I’m looking at it directly. I have to look at it out of the side of my vision, and even then, it gives me a bit of a headache. But whatever it is, it’s moving.
Flashing for a moment, then blinking away.
Flashing again, closer to the middle of the room.
Gone.
Then closer again.
My head is pounding now, but it seems to be moving toward Teller and Grayson. No one else sees it. No one else is reacting. Teller is now ranting into the microphone about foreign powers being given access to our great American-made technology.
He’s completely unaware of this thing that seems to be bearing down on them.
I move closer, and get into Allyn’s field of vision. He glances to the person he’s talking to and then back at me, doing an exaggerated double take.
Then Grayson sees me. His look is more angry than confused.