CHAPTER 28

IDLING OUTSIDE

Ephraim mentally scrambled, trying to remember his last contact with the few people who could offer backup. He’d followed breadcrumbs to find Mercer’s Lair the first time. He’d been in too deep then and couldn’t send up a flare — but he’d also been freshly suspicious of both Wood and Fiona. This time was different. He didn’t trust either of them, but at least there were vested interests here. People who knew, or should know.

Fiona wanted to learn all about Eden’s technology. A bona fide clone was its perfect example. Wood seemed willing to believe Ephraim with some proof — and a clone, again, was better than the MyLife he wanted Ephraim to steal. Both Wood and Fiona should be interested and might agree to have his back now if he got in touch.

He pulled out his Doodad, then looked up at the club’s side and rear. The lot itself was mostly quiet with the ordinary sounds of a city morning, but he could hear music pulsing through the concrete like a throbbing heart. He didn’t see any cameras, but they were mostly invisible these days, at least from more than a few feet away. 

Screw it.

Ephraim walked to the corner. Staying as much out of obvious sight as possible, he snapped a photo of the club’s front. Then he messaged the photo to Fiona and Hershel with the address and a message: I’m here to pick up an Eden package from a man named Mercer Fox. 

He sent the message before he could think himself out of it. It struck him as a fair thing to send; giving his location with a time index but not revealing too much — either to the recipients (who might not believe him if he were more specific, or think him crazy) or to anyone who might intercept the message along the way. 

A “package” could be anything. Now Ephraim’s potential allies — neither of which seemed terribly allegiant to anything beyond their own goals — had another name to chew on, should things go south: Mercer Fox. 

Hesitating, Ephraim composed a new message to Sophie. He attached the same photo, typed the same address, and changed the message to make it even more vague, working mostly on a hunch, wanting contact with her more than support from her. 

I’m at this place. I feel like maybe we talked about it before. Do you recognize it? 

His thumb hovered to send, but as a final thought he added: Miss seeing you. 

Well, for better or for worse, it was done. 

He waited, holding the Doodad, eager for any potential reply. Fiona was probably somewhere between pissed at him and afraid of his crazy, but she’d be curious and want to send help just in case. Or Wood might respond first; Ephraim may or may not have contacted him during his fugue and made himself irrelevant as a GEM witness (Ephraim couldn’t recall), but “Eden package” should interest the man regardless. 

And Sophie? She’d want to be friendly, right? 

But the Doodad stayed silent. No replies, not even after another five minutes standing idle at the building’s side. 

Ephraim pocketed the device and, fighting nerves, approached the door. 

The bouncers watched, apparently unconcerned that he’d arrived from the alley rather than the red carpet.

“I’m sorry,” Ephraim said when he got close. “I’m not dressed for—”

The first bouncer unclipped the rope and pulled it aside. “Not a problem, sir.”