Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Eliana grabbed a can of probiotic soda and a lunch tray, then waited while the woman ahead of her vacillated between bowls of salad with more tomato or more olives.
She’d had that old dream again last night.
It had been years since she thought of it, but now it was back—and she was on edge, thinking about shadowy faces in the dark.
Head of Security, “Just call me Tony,” grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerated cabinet between the cafeteria counter and the door to the room.
“Thanks again for agreeing to lunch, even if it got postponed for a day. I figured if anyone could tell me about the real behind-the-scenes stuff here, it was you.”
She tried to keep her feelings from her face but wasn’t sure that was a skill she possessed. Eventually, everyone wanted to talk about who she was. She held the tray and glanced back at Tony. “Are you from Chicago?”
“Not originally.” He sniffed. “I was actually living in Arkansas until a couple of weeks ago when Syl—uh, Director Caughton—contacted me about the position.”
“So your history that got you the position is personal?” Eliana moved to the salads and selected a bowl, sliding it onto her tray.
He didn’t say anything.
Eliana glanced over at him.
“Like your personal history that got you this job?”
She frowned. “I was offered this position. I didn’t seek it out.”
“I guess our stories are similar, then.” He selected a plate of pasta salad. “It’s been a long time since Sylvia and I have seen each other, so you don’t have to worry that I was hired because we’re sleeping together or anything like that. I’m married.”
She wanted to make a quip about the day being young, so he had time if he wanted to give it a shot, but she didn’t want even that much information about her boss—or his boss.
Or the state of this guy’s marriage. She could’ve argued there was nothing similar about them, but what was the point? She had no idea.
The reality of living with unanswered questions shouldn’t ever surprise her, but when it seemed like everyone around her had those answers, how was she supposed to feel about it?
He cleared his throat. “I understand Director Caughton gave serious consideration to giving you the job. You just haven’t been here that long.”
Meanwhile, he showed up the day before. But he had history. And now he had the access to the vault that she needed.
“Thanks.” Eliana smiled at him. “That actually does help.” Ish. “I like working here, and I do want to advance. But if it’s not the right time…” She shrugged.
He nodded, selecting an open-faced, loaded cheeseburger. “Why work here at all? It’s a pretty controversial place. Most people visit the museum out of a sense of morbid curiosity. Other people come because they want to figure out how to destroy it from within.”
She took a plate of what looked like a chicken and cheese quesadilla and slid it onto her tray.
“Other people, the kind who like crime fiction, show up and take the tour like it’s entertainment and not history.
They want to pretend this is just a fabrication rather than part of real life.
Or the history of the world.” She set her tray on an open table and sat while he settled across from her.
“Half the scientists here were either part of Dominatus in some way or couldn’t be because of ethical considerations but wanted to.
Now they finally have a shot to research whatever it was with no repercussions.
All in the name of science. Or posterity. ”
He bit into his cheeseburger, which left only silence between them. Contemplating her words? More likely, he was assessing her.
“I know I look like her,” she added. Why not get it out in the open to start with? “My mother, I mean.”
His eyes flared for a second, and he coughed, which made him reach for his water. After taking a sip, he said, “Yeah, you really do.”
She forked a bite of salad. “People tell me all the time that I look like her. Maybe I’m connected to the family through some kind of Dominatus genetic experiment. But I’ve never been able to find out how.”
She’d rehearsed the backstory many times. All those tales Zeyla had told her made her realize the importance of a simple cover story. A reasonable explanation for who she was and why she was here.
Tony eyed her. “That’s what you tell people?”
She nodded.
He wiped his mouth. “If we look hard enough for a connection, I think we’d all find they influenced our lives somehow.”
“It’s not like I can help where I came from.” Eliana took a sip of soda.
“Why did you come here, though? Really.”
“To find out everything.”
“About what’s in the vault?”
She was probably supposed to say yes, but Zeyla always told her not to be so straightforward with people. “You have the access now. You’re in charge of who goes in or out.” He could grant her access.
“It has an additional feature.” He studied her for a moment, then rolled up his sleeve. At the crease in his elbow was a needle mark. “Entry is coded to my DNA, and the vault only admits one person at a time.”
If anyone’s DNA should open the vault, it was hers. But was that the kind of significance she wanted her life to have? The only person granted access to all the secrets Dominatus still kept.
Their conversation shifted, and Tony asked her about the other security guards she worked alongside.
About their prior experience and the way scheduling worked.
She told him all the basics before he got a message on his watch.
“It’s Detective Wallace. He’s working the Splitfield murder.
” He read the screen. “They officially ID’d the doctor, and the autopsy is complete. ”
“Great.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin, unsure what she was supposed to say.
“Don’t you want to know the cause of death?”
“Not really.” Eliana finished her soda. “Should I want to know?”
Seeing the dead scientist had been plenty.
With Carlos there right after, she’d escaped lengthy nightmares about a man being nailed to a table and the muffled screams that came from someone with no tongue.
Instead, she’d relived that fateful day in high school, the one she didn’t want to remember but regrettably couldn’t forget.
Then her dreams had taken a more sinister turn, and she’d had that recurring nightmare from her childhood.
She didn’t want to think about any of it.
Tony leaned forward. “Are you okay?”
Conversation swirled in the bustling cafeteria around them. Eliana stood. “I should get back to work. Thanks for lunch.”
He nodded, sitting back in his chair and staring at her with far too much knowledge. “Thank you for explaining things. It was very helpful.”
She crossed the room to deposit her tray and strode out without looking back. The images of the man she’d found dead would always be in her mind. Just because it wasn’t something she would ever forget didn’t mean she had to dwell on the memory.
Walking would clear her head. It always did. Sometimes her mind created scenarios that added to her memories, as if she could augment the past. If she worked hard enough, she had found she was able to—in her mind—convince herself of an alternative truth.
Sure, it was probably a combination of delusion and denial. But if she wanted to avoid experiencing a trauma, why not allow it? Peace was far better than terror.
That was the only reason she hadn’t argued with her parents’ insistence that her life be one of peace, and that she opted for safe jobs.
No one could guarantee safety. Just a little over a year ago, a satellite had fallen out of the sky over California and killed six people when it hit the ground.
Cue more cries for technology to be shunted back to the Stone Age.
Or the twentieth century, prior to the internet.
As if that wasn’t when there were world wars and epidemics.
She stepped out into the main rotunda at the center of the museum and saw a line of elementary students wearing viewing glasses.
Each time they looked at a display, an interactive system would play audio that matched the depiction.
An explanation, or narrative from firsthand accounts, or a snippet of video would play through the display in their glasses.
As an added bonus, their teacher could track each student’s progress through the museum, and no one would get lost.
Choosing to live life abstaining from so much of modern technology wasn’t a moral high ground, although a lot of people chose that route.
Humans were humans, and bragging while trying to one-up each other was universal.
Instead, Eliana and her family chose to spend their lives pursuing other things rather than give up their minds to an algorithm that wanted to tell them how to think.
A person who paid all the subscription fees could access the North American internet 24/7 and have anything they wanted.
But too many folks had seen how the online world overtook the real world and dumped it when things got overtly dangerous.
Instead, they chose to be present in their lives and utilize the internet as a tool that made things better—but which would never control them.
Eliana stopped by a display about a castle in Provence, France, and a group of resistance fighters. She shook her head. When she got going about the evils of technology, she sounded like her grandpa Bruce.
A man moved into the space beside her, and the scent of his cologne touched her senses like a warm hug. Too bad it came with so much baggage. She shouldn’t feel the way she did about that scent, but maybe there was nothing she could do about it.
“Hey.” She didn’t look at him. She just kept staring at the display.
Carlos turned slightly. “This is where I act surprised that I ran into you.”
“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “You had no idea I’d be here, but you came anyway. Why’s that?”
“When do you get off work?” he asked, dodging her question. “Wanna get a pizza?”
She set off along the route most visitors walked, her keys jingling on her belt. “I don’t like pizza anymore.”
Carlos shrugged the shoulders of his jacket. “You really expect me to believe that?”
“I gave up pizza for…religious reasons?”
“That’s more likely, but I still don’t buy it. You’d give up something you might actually be able to live without.” He kept pace with her. “I spoke with the detectives about the case.”
She glanced over then. “Isn’t it an ongoing investigation? I could be a suspect for all you know, and you’re going to share details of the case with me?”
“Huh.” Carlos glanced at her. “You’re right.”
“Happens more than you’d think.”
He snorted under his breath. “I figured since you’re family…”
Right. “Don’t get complacent.”
“Because you’re a killer?” He shook his head. “I know you’re not. But you’re right that I’d get in trouble for telling you information about the case.”
And Tony had tried to tell her the cause of death. As if she needed any of that information. For some reason, they all thought she wanted to hear it. “Can I get back to work?”
“Are you on tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I have two days off.”
“Will you take a drive with me in the morning? I have some information on Luci and the place I think she might have been seen last.”
Was that the real reason he’d come here? The worry was clear on his face, at least to her. She knew him better than most people, given how closely they’d grown up together. She’d thought—
Nope.
“You don’t need my help, Carlos.”
His expression didn’t change. As if he would ever admit that he needed her help? He probably thought she might be able to convince Luci to come with them if he couldn’t. There was a greater chance they’d be able to get this done in one trip.
Which meant less time spent with him.
“I’ll go with you,” she relented.
“Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up.”
Eliana sighed, walking away to continue her rounds.
You’d better be there, Luci.
She was going to get it through Luci Ryson’s head that it was time to come home.
What she wasn’t going to do was worry about a murder that had nothing to do with her.
Just because the staff at the Shrine were taking bets, and people seemed insistent on telling her about the police investigation, didn’t mean she would suddenly turn into her mother, no matter if the Board of Governors had given her a ceremonial dagger.
Eliana had a reason for being here, and she intended to stick with it.