Thirty-Three

Peter looked like a troll again.

He was pleased as all hell that he did. Living or dying, this was the form he wanted. Pain, pleasure, it was all his. The boundless loneliness he’d felt all his life, the constant search for someone or something to fill his emptiness, came snapping back in on him, and suddenly he felt his desires and wants bounded by his own flesh, his troll flesh.

Much more manageable, he thought. What was it Thomas had said to him in the Shattergraves? He’d asked a question. Something about whether Peter could make any connection between how some women might be attracted to him and others not, and his own search to be human again?

Yes, he saw it. Some men will think themselves men, and others will not.

The chopper buzzed in low over the Elevated. The silver and glass buildings were wondrous, no doubt about it, and he pondered how Kathryn could ever have believed she didn’t already live in Oz.

He looked at her, sitting next to the pilot, her green suit cleaned and pressed. He could see her putting her corp mask back on her face. She spotted him watching her, smiled briefly, and then the mask was on.

His father sat behind him, equally indifferent to the architecture outside or to the troll beside him. Peter had insisted they keep his identity a secret from his father. He didn’t want to give the man an opportunity to judge him ever again. Cowardly, perhaps, but why suffer any more than he had?

Peter had overheard a conversation William Clarris had had with Kathryn, and knew that his father cared only about getting back to the lab, getting locked up behind the safety of those sterile white walls. He would say whatever she wanted if he could continue his work. Peter’s father would have just enough money to finish out his life spinning his wheels on Peter’s false data.

The chopper descended and the pilot brought it down to a clean landing. Just outside the helipad Peter saw several Cell Works security agents, a few Cell Works suits, and Billy, flanked by two of his thugs. He’d known Billy would be at the meeting, but seeing him still took his breath away. Peter was nervous, more nervous even than when he’d been about to meet his father.

The copter doors opened, letting Kathryn, Peter, and his father climb out. Peter ducked very low and moved methodically away from the blades. He took up a position slightly behind Kathryn, as if he were her bodyguard.

A white-haired man, one of the Cell Works suits, stepped forward. “Ms. Amij, wonderful to see you again.” They shook hands. “We were quite concerned.”

“You had reason to be,” she said, and the Cell Works suits laughed politely. Kathryn looked at Peter, giving a tiny roll with her eyes. “But it is good to see you again, Mr. Serveno. How is your daughter’s cough?”

“Much better now. Thank you, Ms. Amij.”

Her gaze turned to Billy, and Peter stepped forward, taking a position between them. The blades had come to a stop now, and their normal tone of conversation could be heard by everyone. A cold wind sliced across the roof.

“Hello, Billy,” Peter said.

Billy kept his eyes averted from Peter. “Profezzur.”

Peter decided to get right to business. “Billy Shaw, Ms. Amij. Ms. Amij, Billy Shaw.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Kathryn.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s the deal?”

“The same as we sent you yesterday, sir. Your stock stays. I stay. I run the company, as I should. I make a profit, you make more money. You stay off of P… Profezzur’s back.” Billy shifted, trying to figure out a new angle. “You’ve read the package we sent you. That’s the deal.” Her tone made it clear the matter was non-negotiable.

“And Garner?”

“He’s yours. We’ve got his sanctioned confession on tape and locked away. If we release it, corp court will authorize a complete audit and investigation into everything you’ve ever bought, touched, or looked at. You played big time without paying percentages to the right people.”

Billy turned slowly to Peter, then smiled. “I like her. You’re going to do good for yourself.” He turned back to Kathryn and put out his hand. “Deal.”

Kathryn took it. “Deal.”

Billy turned back to Peter. “I don’t know if you did the right thing, but you stuck to it. And for that I admire you.”

“Thanks, Billy.” Peter felt his throat tighten. “See you around.”

Billy made a gun with his fingers and pointed it at Peter. “Better not.” Then he laughed and said, “Take care.” He walked off toward one of two elevators, along with his men and some of the Cell Works security. Peter longed to spend just a few more minutes with Billy, but the doors of the elevator opened, he got in, and was gone.

Kathryn turned to Serveno. “Get Dr. Clarris set up downstairs, please. He has a valuable document that he wishes to begin studying right away.”

Peter looked down at the ground. He could imagine nothing more terrible than sending his father on a wild research goose chase at the end of his life. But it was the only way to prevent him from actually completing the research. Short of killing him, that is, which of course Peter could not do.

Serveno, Peter’s father, and the remaining guards boarded a second elevator and also left the roof.

Peter glanced at the elf chopper pilot, who sat oblivious in the cockpit, listening to music on headphones. He looked back to Kathryn, and she stepped up to him.

“Well,” said Peter.

“Well.”

“You’re good at this. This whole bargaining thing. Being a boss. Asking about the guy’s kid. That was good.”

She twisted her hips slightly, girlish, amused and annoyed that he could name all her tricks. “It was. I am good at this.”

“But you also handled yourself pretty well in a fight. Sure you don’t wanna go be a shadowrunner with me?”

“No.” She smiled. “No. I’m here. This is what I want. Nice, steady order.” She glanced away, then back at him. “How about you? What are you going to do? Want a job?”

Peter exhaled a large breath. He wasn’t sure if she was kidding. “That an actual offer?”

“You do good work. You’re a good person. Yes, it’s an offer. My staff would be confused for a bit, but they’d get used it. I’m the boss. I can make them get used to things.”

He smiled, flattered. Warm. “I’ll take that under consideration. But I was also thinking about going up to Byrne. Setting up some sort of tutoring program. Maybe…I don’t know. Trying to get the place cleaned up.”

“You’ll need a job either way. You could give away the huge salary I’ll pay you to any cause you want. Buy a lot of data chips. Paint. Whatever.”

“Hardball, eh? I’ll think about it. Really.”

“All right.”

They stood silent for a moment, enjoying the sight of each other’s eyes.

“Um,” Peter said, his voice high-pitched for a moment. He paused again and watched a swirl of snow cut over the roof and drop off the side of the building. “Could I take you to dinner some time?”

Kathryn smiled coyly and then crooked her finger. Uncertain, he leaned down, and she gave him a peck on the cheek. He stood up, again, very happy. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

“You’re serious about the job?”

“Again, yes.”

“All right. I gotta go now. After I find a new place, I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

She laughed. “Yes, you will.”

He turned and crossed the roof to the helipad and climbed into the chopper. Kathryn looked at him through the glass. She waved and Peter waved back.

The elf turned and said, “Where to, chummer?”

Peter thought about it and realized he hadn’t a clue where to go next. “Could we just cruise around for a while?”

“You got it.”

The elf flicked a switch and the blades started up. Kathryn waited on the roof as the chopper lifted into the sky. She and Peter waved to one another once more, men she entered the building.

Peter settled into the seat as comfortably as he could. He looked down at the snow-covered buildings of the city. They seemed to rise and fall like the waves of a stormy sea frozen for one moment. So much to see, Peter thought. So much to fall into.

“Tell you what,” Peter shouted to the elf. “I’m going to take a nap. We got enough fuel for an hour?” The elf checked a gauge and nodded. “All right. Wake me up in an hour, and I’ll have a destination.”

“So ka.”

Peter closed his eyes, the steady thrum of the blades comforting him. He’d sleep, and when he woke up, he’d have a plan. Or he’d make one up on the spot. But what mattered was that when next he opened his eyes, he’d still be a troll. Thank goodness.