“Together you and I are exceptionally powerful. They knew I was their best chance of finding and killing you if I was unable to secure you for Alameeda. If you remain with me, they can’t control you.”
“And you knew all of this beforehand?”
“Of course.”
“All their little plots and schemes are going awry. How do you think they feel about that?”
“I’m sure it’s all rather upsetting for them. One might say they feel murderous.”
I blink. Did he just make a joke? I can’t tell. He’s so straight-faced. I rub my forehead. I don’t feel well. It’s as if I died earlier today and have been resurrected. “Okay.” I look around me for a way to help. “So what should I do? Dig holes for land mines? Carve stakes out of bamboo? Make coconut-shell bombs? What?” I’m only half kidding. I don’t want to die tonight, especially not in the way they have planned for me. I’d also like to keep all of my organs, so I’d rather turn this around on them, if I can. “Or we could just leave. We could hide you know—somewhere they’ll never find us. Do you know how to get to Chicago? Because if we could get there, I could hide us—”
Kyon gathers me up in his arms and kisses me hard on the mouth. I push against his chest, but he’s caveman strong. He lets me go on his own. “You’re so adorable sometimes. I almost don’t regret not killing you.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”
“I am the sanest person you know,” he says honestly.
“Or the most delusional. I’m leaning toward the latter.” I sigh. “What do you want me to do to help?”
“Here, I’ll show you.” He puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me to the cottage just off the beach. It’s only small by the standards of the bigger house on the island. Made of teak, it looks like a bunch of huts connected by brown, wooden bridges with polished driftwood railings. Thatched roofs blow and rustle in the sea breeze, making the same sound as the palm trees on the shore.
We climb the wooden steps and come to a deck. It’s lined with legless, hovering chaise lounges for lying in the sun. Plump cream-colored mats cover the hovering chairs. Up a few more stairs and we face a series of interconnected teak structures. To our left is a thatched-roof gazebo with a hammock strung from its wooden pillars. A deck connects it to the structure directly in front of us. It’s also made of teak with thatched roofs, wooden floors, and open-wall archways. Under the shelter of a peaked roof, a few elegant, moss-green-covered chairs cluster around the rustic hearth and driftwood mantel. A small bar and commissary are behind the sitting area. Beyond the bar, there are two rooms: One appears to be a bathroom—or, as they call it, a lavare, because it has a glass shower that opens on one side with a view of the sea. The other room is a lovely bedroom with a dreamy froth of white netting over it and an open wall to access a wooden bridge that leads to more thatched-hut structures behind this one.
We enter the hut straight ahead of us through an open wall that has lush green potted palms on either side of it. “Would you like some water?” Kyon asks. I nod to him. He passes the sitting area and goes to the bar. I follow him and lean against the sandstone countertop while he rounds it to the other side. “Oscil, two glasses of water.”
From the center of the sandstone, a hole opens up in the counter, and beautiful goblets of water emerge from beneath its surface. Reaching for a glass, I take a sip of it as Kyon says, “Oscil, prepare the cottages for setting three.”
“There is no inclement weather detected in this area. The likelihood of a hurricane making landfall here is point zero zero zero zero—”
“Override hurricane probability. Secure the cottages to setting three. Access to emergency settings restricted to Kyon Ensin.”
The gazebo to our left changes. Glass-panel walls emerge from the wood floor, blocking access to the hammock within. Once the transparent barriers are in place, metal hurricane shutters roll down over the glass.
I glance at Kyon for a moment as he drinks his water and watches me. I look away and see most of the open walls to this teak structure begin to close, leaving all but one wall to the outside open—it’s the way we came in. The outside walls of the bedroom close off access to the bridge that connects it to the other teak huts as glass partitions emerge from the floor. Steel shutters come down over the glass in this area too, darkening the room. The same thing happens in the lavare—it’s shrouded in darkness within seconds by hurricane shutters.
“What are we going to do here?” I ask as I turn toward Kyon again in confusion and find him gone. Looking around, I see him nearing the only exit left open to the cottage.
“You’re going to wait here. You’ll be safe,” Kyon says as he leaves. I hurry toward the exit too, but a glass panel comes up from the floor between us, blocking my way out.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I whine as I put my hands on the glass and try to stop it from closing completely. It’s no good; I’m not strong enough. The hurricane shutters begin to come down over the outside of the transparent wall. I bang on the glass. “Kyon!” I yell at him, as he smiles at me from the other side.
“Take a nap,” he calls back. “You’re still exhausted.”
The shutters close over all the glass walls and windows, leaving me in total darkness inside. “Oh, no he did not just lock me in here and tell me to take a nap! What a total knob knocker!” I try to cross the room, stumble into a chair, bruise my knee, walk a step farther, bump into a small table, flail my arms, and stub my toe. “Oww!” I lift my foot and rub it. “Oscil!” I yell in frustration.
“May I be of assistance?” The fem-bot voice asks from above.
“I need some light.” Every single light in the place turns on at once. “Let me out of here,” I order.
“You are not authorized for a change in command mode.”
“Oh, he’s such a wacker!” I fume. “Oscil, open shutters.”
“You are not authorized for that command.”
“Override setting three!”
“You are not authorized for that command.”
“What can I do?” I growl.
“You may utilize the commissary functions. May I suggest a cup of kafcan?”
“No. What other functions are available to me?” I cross my arms.
“You have access to climate control.”
I look around the room. “Do I have access to the fireplace?”
“Yes,” Oscil responds. “Do you require a fire?”
I smile. “Why, yes, Oscil. I do require a fire.”
The fake logs stacked in the fireplace ignite from a gas starter. A pleasant fire snaps in the hearth. Going to a chair, I pull off one of the fluffy moss-colored throw pillows. Taking it to the fire, I shove it in the flames until it catches. Pulling it out, I toss the pillow onto the chair. In moments, the elegant seat is a raging, burning ball of revenge with black smoke curling from it.
“Fire detected, fire detected,” Oscil repeats the statement in a mantra.
“Oh, no. Help,” I say in a bored tone. “I must get out. Open the door.”
“You are not authorized for that command,” Oscil states.