BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

She shook her head,feigning naive ignorance.

"High level, top tier." He gestured above his head."Stuff only the governors know about. Next-gen tech like you wouldn'tbelieve. I mean, even the mayor would have to be on the list to get inside. Andwe'd have to turn him back if he didn't have an appointment. Trust me onthat." He flexed his chest muscles. "I'd do it. Turnhim back. It's my job, ma'am."

"You take it seriously."

"You bet I do!" He smiled again. "They saysomeday those synthetics will be holding down jobs like mine. You know,the ones they've got working now in factories and thelike. But I don't see it happening. Not a chanceone of those things could handle this the way I do."

She raisedan eyebrow. "Are you going to turn meaway?"

"Well now, that depends." He brought his glistening facecloser to hers, self-enamoredgrin intact. "You got a name?"

Irena couldn't give him her name. In this when, Irena Horton was only fourteen years old. And she would not bedriving yet. My cousin?

"Alternate parking located," droned the console.

"Hey now." The guard's attention drifted away from Irena forthe first time. "You've got one of those new AI models. Very nice. I hearthey're expensive." His wandering gaze returned, taking a slow scenicroute from her midsection upward. "You must be a woman of considerablemeans."

"Cyrus Horton is my uncle." She shrugged.

"Right. You're his-uh niece." The appreciativelook in his eyes cooled as they rose to meet hers. "He doesn't know you're stoppingby?"

She held his gaze with as much confidence as she could muster."It's a surprise. I haven't seen him in years." That much was true.Before his creatures kidnapped me Underground. "I didn't think he'dmind."

"I'll be the judge of that. As a rule, we don't disturb thescientists during their work periods." Another glance at her figure. Thesmile returned. "What's your name again?"

She hadn't told him. Not yet."Ashland. Ashland Solomon."

"Well, Ashland. Let me see what I can do." He patted theroof and turned on his heel, taking long strides back to the guard station withone thumb casually hooked over his sidearm.

"Park or continue to idle?" droned the AI.

Irena watched the guard approach his companion. Words wereexchanged, then laughter.

"I don't know yet," she said.

"Invalid command."

"Idle, then."

"Invalid command. Voiceprint unrecognizable."

"Oscar—idle," she rephrased, watching the console. Youbetter not Link up the police. She knewits protocol all too well.

"Confirmed."

She exhaled and closed her eyes a moment. I don't know if I can dothis. To see her father twenty years younger, before he ran out on his family—forcedto disappear, according to him. The government supposedly shut down his work,disapproved of his research. Exiled him in disgrace. Why would that make himleave us? Had he ever truly loved Irenaand her mother? Her one fond memory returned unbidden: her father dressed inwhite on New Year's Day...

"Ma'am?"

The guard had returned. Irena opened her eyes to find him leaning on the window frame,closer than before—as if he wanted to climb onto her lap. Maybe he did.

"Looks like today's not your lucky day." He frownedapologetically. "Seems Dr. Horton is currently out of his office, and hisassistant doesn't know for sure when he'll be back."

She nodded. "I see." It never would have worked,anyway. "Thank you for your time. I'll be sure to make an appointmentnext—"

"But here's the funny thing." He paused to ruminate fora moment. "Your uncle's assistant has given you special permission to comeon inside. He said he's been expecting you."

She could not hide her surprise. He chuckled at her unguarded expression.

"And lucky for you, I'll be your escort." He glanced atthe empty bucket seat beside her. "Got room for two?"

"I—"

But he was already rounding the hood of the coupe with a broadsmile, winking at her through the windshield.

"Oscar—open passenger door." The doordrifted upward.

The guard whistled, taking a moment to run his eyes across theinterior and his hand along the taut faux-leather upholstery.

"Very nice." He cursed softly. "The lady rides instyle."

Before she could respond, he dropped into the seat and gestured athis companion beside the guard station. The gate crept open automatically underhis watchful eye.

"Head on in. It can get a little confusing for first-timers,but fear not. You've got me as your guide."

She took hold of the steering grips. "Oscar—manualdrive."

"Confirmed," the console droned.

The guard cursed again. "I don't know if I'd be able to getused to that, having my car talk back. And he's even got a name? Oscar,is that what you call it?"

"Invalidcommand."

She accelerated toward the gate, passing through the gap withoutpause. On the other side, the street diverged in three directions with thefortress itself looming straight ahead. She pointed.

"You'd think so, but you'll want to hang a left here. Theentrance to your uncle's wing is on the east side of the complex." Hereturned his attention to the interior, to the computer console in particular."So, Oscar, what else can you do?"

"Invalid command," the computer droned again.

Sheshot him a glance as he laughed.

"It can be...finicky at times," she explained. "There is a very specific script—"

"Does it like to watch you and your boyfriend in thebackseat?" He looked over his shoulder and muttered, "Not much roomback there."

"It's my husband's." She kept her eyes on the street."The car belongs to him."

"Yeah? What's he do?"

"He's—" Her throat constricted. A flash of memory:Harry's head on the floor of his office, lying in a pool of his own blood. Sheclenched her teeth. "He's an investigator."

"Like a detective, you mean?" He grinned at her."Is he a real dick?"

She pointed toward the parking structure ahead. "There?"

"Yeah." His smile faded. "You can pull up front,use your uncle's reserved spot. I don't think he'd mind, do you?"

"Let's hope not."

"Wouldn't want him to get angry or anything. These geniusescan be real bears when you cross them." He chuckled again. "So, yourhusband. Does he work with the local police much? Or are they mutuallyexclusive?"

Her lips parted. She stared straight ahead as she slowed the vehicleto a stop in front of the mirrored east wing entrance.

"The reason I ask, my cousin works for the NewCity municipaldistrict. He's like a sergeant or something over there."

"Is that so?" She tapped the manual release for herdoor, and