The Ghost and the Machine Page 2

  “You’re going to see him again, aren’t’ you?” It came out as more of an accusation than Mandy intended.

  Sage crossed her arms over her stomach and took a step back, a defensive posture. “I know you don’t like Austin, but, Mandy, you don’t know him.”

  “He—he’s okay.”

  “You’re a crappy liar.”

  Mandy traced a black stripe on the comforter with her finger. “You’re right. I don’t like him, but you don’t give me any grief about my boyfriend. So, if you trust my judgement with Landin, I should trust yours with Austin.” She glanced toward the open closet door. “I want you to wear my black skirt—the Armani skirt you like.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Sage took the pleated black skirt and draped it over her tiny waist with a smile. “I’ll make it look darling. I promise.” She removed the hanger and held the skirt to her chest. “You know, I like sharing clothes. It’s almost like we’re real sisters.”

  Mandy couldn’t help smiling. “We might as well be. Also, it’s not to borrow, I want you to have it.”

  Sage rested her teeth on her lower lip. It was her anxiety tell, something she had picked up from Mandy. “I appreciate you want to give me the Armani, I do, but you worked so hard for this. I wouldn’t feel right.”

  “It means more to me for you to have it, than for me to wear it. Does that make sense?”

  Sage stood for moment, then crawled across the bed to touch foreheads with Mandy. “You’re the best. I tell everyone so.”

  Mandy touched Sage’s hand. “I’ve been talking to Landin on our sushi bar excursions. I told him about the scars and he didn’t care. I spent all that money on clothes to hide the imperfections from him and make me feel better—and he likes me for me.”

  Sage smiled. “You sound surprised. I’m not.”

  Mandy withdrew her hand. “Anyways. Tonight, I want to divvy up the rest of the clothes. I’m done with worrying what I look like and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate that.”

  “We’ll talk about it this evening. Get some rest.” Sage shifted her eyes away. “I’m glad you decided to stay home on your own.”

  Sage gathered the skirt and crawled off the bed.

  Mandy frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Sage picked up the other pill bottle and rattled its contents. “Remember like a month ago when I accidentally took a couple of these and it knocked me on my butt for a whole day?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Love you.” Sage pulled the door shut.

  “Pfft. Glad she’s on my team.”

  Mandy pulled the wad of tissues from the covers. The blood had turned brown. Yeah, she needed the night off and it was her first birthday in a strange place. Without Mom. A little hollow grew in her chest where home used to be. She shook her head. Damn Sage and her infectious mushy-itis.

  “Doctor Gibson. Voice only.”

  The slow moans of a base bassoon solo filled the bedroom, like a funeral march for whales.

  Thankfully, the music stopped when someone picked up.

  “Miss Clementine?” The voice’s rounded vowels made her name sound exotic.

  “Mr. Moto. I think I have the wrong number.”

  “I took the precaution of having your calls to this number forwarded.”

  Precaution? An odd word choice. “I want to speak to Doctor Gibson.”

  “You can speak to me.”

  Mandy clutched the comforter. “Fine. I want to take a few days off.”

  “No. A competitor made a breakthrough this morning.”

  “I have some concerns.”

  “Need I remind you that there is a considerable penalty for not completing the project tonight? You signed the updated timeline.”

  She really should read before signing things. “I’m just asking for a little break.”

  “Miss Clementine, are you aware that your mother took out a second mortgage and has maxed out most of her credit to keep you at university?”

  Mandy swallowed, her mouth dry as sand. That was so like Mom not to say anything. “I don’t like snoops.”

  “She could hardly afford to pay the penalties if you don’t finish this evening.”

  Mandy sat up straight. “I’m eighteen. Leave Mom out of this.”

  “The staggering debt will make obtaining work or credit impossible for you. Supporting you will fall on her. Why are you voice only?”

  Because she wasn’t decent and neither was he. Mandy crushed the moist tissue in her hand. She couldn’t let her screw-up hurt Mom. The corners of her eyes stung. Anger made her cry and no one took the ire of a blubbering girl seriously. That made her madder, which made her cry more. She sniffled. Dammit.

  “Mandy—”

  “Amanda.”

  “Miss Clementine then. I understand I have pushed you very hard and your profile indicates you respond more to positive rather than negative inducements. Wakahisa Corporation has a scholastic grant program and I am willing to offer you a full scholarship. It would cover books, fees, tuition, and living expenses.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “Consider it compensation for any inconvenience—for your concerns.”

  If she could do this on her own, she wouldn’t be a burden on Mom, or anyone again. Mandy tossed the tissue into the swear jar. “I want it in writing and I want Doctor Gibson there tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  Mandy closed her eyes. “I’ll be there.”

  She closed the connection and touched her nose. Her hand came away clean.

  She rolled out of bed and stood unsteadily, letting the world soak into her brain. The meds were a little stronger than she expected.

  She checked the time using her Izzy phone clip. Her inbox had two missed messages and a birthday card from Mom. Always time to read those later. She jumped in the shower, blow-dried her hair and threw a burgundy scrunchy on her head. The scrunchy climbed back and forth, combing out her tangles.

  Landin’s smiling picture sat on the nightstand, watching her dress. She would make the arrangements and tell him tonight. Those were jitter-inducing thoughts. Excitement tussled with anxiety for dominance, giving Mandy warm tingles. She wasn’t certain how she should feel, but she had put this off long enough. It was something she wanted too, right?

  Using Izzy, she brought up the page for E-Romance on the bedroom’s programmable wallpaper, splattering the room with pink and violet hearts. She ran her finger over the wallpaper’s fine ridges as she scrolled through the list of packages. Most of the options were blush worthy and too advanced for her. Landin had dated more than her, a lot more, but he had let her go at her own speed. The picture of a petite blonde woman judged her from the desk corner.

  “You did it too at my age, or you wouldn’t be my mom,” Mandy said, with her chin held high. She turned mom’s picture around. Why was she born terminally shy?

  She made a quick package selection that included dinner, contraceptives, a gossamer teddy and a few self-heating lotions. Really, what could you do with those? The scrunchy finished detangling her hair and crawled into place to form a loose ponytail. She had meant to pick the braided ponytail scrunchy. Her fault for buying two of the same color.

  The December air chilled her face as she stepped from the toasty warm apartment. Orange and tan leaves whirled in the wind, rasping against the red brick sidewalks. Mandy stood outside, holding the doorknob until the outdated lock finished scanning her palm-print and slid the bolt into place with a soft click. She turned, bumping into a cardigan wall with a hint of deep musk.

  “Landin?” The romance package popped into her head. See-through teddy. Contraceptive. Her cheeks warmed. She counted the shopping days until Christmas, but the distraction didn’t work. Despite the winter breeze, her face grew hot.

  “Mandy? I’ve never seen you so flushed.”

  Damn. “I’m just—so, what are you doing here?”

  He held up a white sack with a
green Jade Dragon emblem curled across the front. “Sage posted you weren’t feeling good, so I brought wonton soup. I hate to think of you at home, sick and alone on your birthday.”

  “That’s so sweet.” She warmed all over. Izzy beeped a reminder. “Uh, I am feeling better, so I decided to go to work. I’ve got to be there pretty soon.”

  “Could we drop it inside? It won’t take long.”

  Mandy touched the knob again. It clicked. “I guess I’ve got a couple of minutes.”

  Thank God, Sage was a neat-freak and the living room was immaculate, unlike her bedroom. She slid the warm bag into the nearly empty fridge, which responded through Izzy that the milk was out of date. Nag, pester and harass. Technology could be a pain.

  Landin leaned his broad shoulders against the door frame. The sweet, dark scent of his cologne filled the kitchen. The dim light from the shade-covered windows gave his skin a golden hue. He had more of a swimmer’s body, than a weight lifter’s, she decided.

  Mandy shook her head to clear it. If Mr. M came through, she would be financially ahead for the rest of her college career. That was worth a slight risk. Maybe, it was time to take a risk and get her relationships in line too.

  She shut the fridge door. “Have you got time to walk with me?”

  The path wound through the campus, under the ever-blue West Texas sky. Mandy was distracted and he knew it. Small talk dwindled to a drip. She had to strike, before it turned awkward. “I want to discuss something with you.” Yeah, awkward.

  Landin slowed. Despite her promises, between classes, the library and work, they had only seen each other a couple of times in the last two weeks. Could he think she was breaking up with him? She reached up and rubbed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothing bad, but I don’t think we have time to do this properly. Can you meet me at the Student Union about seven? I know you said you were busy tonight, but I want to talk.”

  They dodged across Louisville Avenue and into the cold shadow of the hospital’s research wing.

  “Seven? Uh, I don’t know.”

  Mandy stepped off the sidewalk and pressed against the wall to make room for a couple of hospital regulars. She nodded to them as they passed.

  “Okay, fess up, Landin. What’s going on?”

  “Sage planned a little get-together for your birthday at your place. I’m supposed to pick up Rachel around seven. Happy birthday. Don’t tell her I said anything. Everyone thinks she’s so cute with her big brown eyes, but she scares me.”

  “She’s only scary till you get to know her—and occasionally thereafter.”

  “You want to talk at the party?”

  Discussing the subject with Landin sent her stomach tumbling and she was glad to have the delay. “Um, no we can talk about it another time.”

  “Your turn to confess. It must be something important.”

  Mandy leaned back, closed her eyes and let her head drop back to rest on the cold brick. Here goes. “Sage is leaving for Christmas before me and I’ll be in the apartment alone for a week. I thought . . . I’ve been resisting for a while and shouldn’t have.”

  She imagined a goofy grin on his cute face, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to look. A pregnant pause hung in the air. Oh. My. God. Why did that word come to mind?

  His sweater brushed the brick beside her. “Does that mean what I think it does?”

  “It means, we’re going to plan something that should be spontaneous—and I’m a dork.”

  The heat from his body warmed her face. He must be very close. “Only if you’re ready. I mean that.”

  That opened Mandy’s eyes. “Not the answer I expected. Once I actually said yes, I mean.”

  His eyes searched hers. “It’s a big step for you. Be sure you’re ready.”

  What could she say to that? Warmth blossomed in her cheeks and three little words came to mind. Just three words that opened such possibilities and complications. The trembling in her stomach melted from nervousness into cautious excitement. Physiologically, she knew the sensation was the same and it was her perception that shifted, but she didn’t care.

  Izzy beeped again. Mandy rolled her eyes. “I am ready, but I’ve got to go.”

  When she met his eyes again, the chill and the crowded sidewalk went away, leaving only them in the world. Her body responded, quivering so that only the wall kept her standing. Her heart revved. Just say it. What was wrong with her?

  And then his lips warmed hers. Moving tenderly. His hands held her, pulling her towards him. Her fingers slipped through his curls, pulling tight. She didn’t know how they got there. Prickly tingles crept down her spine. She needed to breathe and the need made the heady dizziness more intense.

  He pulled back. “Well, I’ll see you at the party then.”

  She gasped twice before she had breath to answer. “I hate you . . . a little . . . right now.”

  He chuckled and stroked her hair.

  She touched her fingers to her trembling lips and tried to hold on to the feeling as she watched him leave. When did this get so serious?

  She should have told him, but she couldn’t be expected to get over her emotional constipation all at once, could she? And it didn’t seem right to confess her love and then leave. Right? Maybe she could get him alone after the party.

  The changing room was brighter, the lilac exam gown more vibrant and Mandy tied it behind her back like a champ. She dropped Izzy on top of her clothes and stopped. Was she humming? She never did that.

  Three knocks rattled the door. “Miss Clementine? Are you ready?”

  Mandy cracked the door open and peeked. It wasn’t the doc. “Hi, Carl.”

  The balding man in hunter-green scrubs raised his eyebrows. “We only met once.”

  “I’m good with names.” Mandy led the way through the twisted halls, making sure to gather the fabric in the back of her gown to keep the gap closed. No thrills for poor Carl.

  The room bustled with techs in white coats. There seemed to be more than ever. Mr. M stood at the center of the chaos, holding a data pad.

  “Where is Doctor Gibson? I wanted to talk to him before the scan. That was the deal.”

  Mr. M handed her the data pad. “Our deal was the scholarship and that he would be here. He will. You will find everything in order.”

  Mandy grumbled. He was up to something, but she wasn’t sure what. Carefully, she read through the scholarship offer. As she perused the document, a green hedge of scrub clad orderlies formed behind her. Actually, there were just two, but they were grande size. “Back it up, guys.”

  The contract seemed straight forward. Her stomach squirmed and she started over. She read it two more times, but if there was something hidden in the text, some trick, she couldn’t find it. She should have gotten a lawyer app.

  Mandy tapped the pad. “I can’t believe you added a testing deadline that’s just a couple of hours from now. That’s pushy.”

  “As I said, a rival made a breakthrough. This isn’t five years ago. Technology moves very quickly now and if we don’t get the patents, we lose our investment in you. If you want the scholarship, you sign now.”

  Mandy scrawled her signature on the pad and handed it to Mr. M. He nodded to the orderlies, who moved to tower over her on either side.

  “I know the way.” She pushed through the crowd and into the instrument room. Her hands trembled when she touched the cool exam table. This is no different than all the other times.

  “Do you need the step stool?”

  Mandy sighed. “No Carl. Thank you.”

  Carl checked readouts on the ring and avoided her eyes.

  “Doing okay, Carl? You seem tense. Everything all right with Mrs. Carl and the little Carls? A boy and a girl, right?”

  “What? Oh, yes. I’ll be back after the test.”

  The table jerked as Mandy moved under the ring. The lights dimmed.

  Carl’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Think of something happy.”

  Mandy closed
her eyes and reached far back in time. She chased a fluffy puppy through towering piles of discarded red and green wrapping paper. The sweet cinnamon aroma of Snickerdoodles filled the air. Christmas at Grandma’s. The memory flickered. Faces, warm summer nights and the smell of grape popsicles blended with Christmas. An electric chill coursed through her.

  The world popped and went frothy.

  Had time passed? The lights were on again and people rushed around her, just out of sight. Something bad must have happened. It took a couple of tries, but she managed to touch her face with one clumsy hand. Dabs of blood freckled her fingers. It was a nice shade of red. So bright. I should have called Mom this morning.

  The click of men’s dress shoes drew close. The cadence wasn’t right.

  Mandy wanted to sit up, but she had forgotten how or maybe she was part of the table. “Doctor Gibson was never coming, huh, Mr. Moto?”

  “I have had him working on other aspects of the project. He couldn’t know that I compressed the schedule or that I authorized high-power scans for better resolution. Something about knowing the position of a particle very precisely, changes other attributes.”

  She dropped her hand to her chest. So strange. She should be scared, she supposed, but it was like she couldn’t be bothered to feel anything. “You did this for money?”

  “I did it for all of us. The competitor is scanning people as well. Smart, aggressive people.”

  She rolled her head towards his voice, but couldn’t focus beyond the tips of her twitching fingers. The mood-tat had faded to the purple-green of a deep bruise. “People like you.”

  “Clark was right. See what I have done to reach my goal? Humanity would not survive a future with machines based on people such as me.”

  Crackling static interrupted her thoughts. Her concentration ebbed and returned. The room had changed again. More people moved in her peripheral vision. “What happens now?”

  He moved away. “I have written a resignation letter taking full responsibility. You wrote a letter as well, saying you knew the risks and, whatever happened, you wanted your contribution to the future to live on. It’s quite touching, really.”

  “And fake.” The room tasted like hunter green. Synesthesia?