The Immortal Crown

CHAPTER 7

Hard Luck Cases

Darius was only the first surprising person Tessa found waiting for her after school the next day. He was standing outside the cushioned room that creative thinkers used to brainstorm their independent projects. Actually, it was more like he was slouching outside of it. Each time she saw him, Tessa was kind of amazed that he managed to get around as well as he did. He seemed to be all arms and legs sometimes, and no encounter went by without him stumbling at least once. But he straightened up effortlessly now, a smile lighting his face.

“Hey,” he said. “Hey,” she said.

They stood there in a moment of awkward silence as her classmates moved around them. Darius cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything right now? Do you want to go get coffee?”

Tessa had two immediate reactions. The first was relief that he was asking for coffee. That was something she understood. On the rare occasions she did get asked out socially by classmates, it was usually to eat Asian food, something she was still coming to terms with. The RUNA’s culture was so inextricably tied to that of its sister country, the EA, that Asian cuisine was pretty ubiquitous. Although she’d made great strides in differentiating between Chinese, Japanese, and Thai cuisine, chopsticks still remained an embarrassing social experience for her. But coffee? Coffee she could handle.

Once she’d accepted that, her next reaction was wariness. Every time Darius wanted to talk to her, it was to ask for something. What could he possibly want from her now? She was pretty sure she couldn’t get any more favors out of Justin. Darius didn’t seem like the type who wanted to hang out with her just for the novelty of gawking at a provincial, but maybe she was mistaken. Whatever his reasons were, she couldn’t guess them and was too polite to make up a lie to decline. That, and her curiosity got the better of her yet again.

“Okay,” she said. The two of them began walking toward the stairs. “But someone’ll have to come with us.”

“Who?” asked Darius, looking understandably perplexed.

“Ah, well . . . um, after what happened last time you were over . . .” Tessa paused, not that there could be any question of which incident she was referring to. “Well, after that, Justin got security for us. I’m not really supposed to go out without a bodyguard, so he should be waiting for me downstairs.”

Darius looked impressed. “You have your own bodyguard?”

“We kind of share a group of them,” she explained, blushing. “Today I’m with a guy named Rufus. He seems okay.”

Tessa had only met him this morning. He’d said very little on the ride to school, which she’d liked. It was nice a change from Mae’s praetorian friends. Rufus might not have a reflex-enhancing implant in him, but she would gladly go without that extra protection in order to not be constantly reminded of the Miscreant Terrorist Girls Reform Camp.

Only, it wasn’t Rufus who greeted Tessa when she reached the bottom of the stairs. A woman she didn’t know was standing there, one whom Tessa’s eyes initially passed over until she did a double take and saw the stranger staring pointedly at her.

She strode up to Tessa on five-inch heels that were a perfect match to the tight red blazer and skirt she wore. A plunging neckline showed ample cleavage and left one to wonder if there was anything on underneath it. The woman’s lacquer lipstick was the same shade of red, providing a bright contrast to her dark eyes and wavy hair. She held out a hand to Tessa and smiled with gleaming white teeth.

“You must be Teresa,” she said. “You look just like your picture, except dressed better. You ready to go?”

Tessa came to a halt. “Go where? Who are you?”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “I figured they would’ve told you. Or that you would’ve recognized me.” She waited for a response from Tessa and then glanced at Darius. Both shook their heads. “I’m Daphne Lang.” There was an expectant tone in her voice, like her name should’ve meant something. After a few more moments, the woman threw up her hands in frustration. “Really? Nothing?”

Tessa shook her head again. “I’m sorry.”

”Everything okay here?”

Rufus came strolling up to them, hands in his pockets and body language casual. But his eyes were fixed sharply on Daphne, and Tessa realized he’d probably been waiting down here and watching the whole time.

“Who are you?” Daphne asked.

“He’s with me,” said Tessa. “My, uh, bodyguard. Rufus.”

Daphne looked more impatient than anything else. “Fine. The more the merrier. Let’s go.”

“But I don’t know who you are!” exclaimed Tessa.

“I told you, I’m Daphne Lang.” Daphne darted a quick glance at a still-wary Rufus, but if her name sparked any recognition with him, he didn’t show it. She sighed. “Look, do you want an internship or not? I didn’t come all the way down here for the hell of it. I figured a kid like you at a school like this was serious.”

“I . . .” Tessa faltered. “I am, but I never asked for an internship was just supposed to shadow someone.”

Daphne shook her head. “No half-ass shadowing with me. You want to learn the reporter business? You’re doing the full deal. You come down to my office, you go out on assignments with me, run errands, help do research. All of it. If I approve you, that is. That’s what today is about. I need to get to know you, figure out what you’re like and where you come from. Not just anyone can work for North Prime.” North Prime? Actually, from what Tessa had learned in her inundation with Gemman media, anyone could work for North Prime. The entertainment portion of the RUNA’s media stream contained a vast selection of channels with both on-demand and live programming. Mixed in with that were myriad news options, some more reputable than others. The more prestigious ones had regular journalists who were celebrities in their own rights. Other media news channels—like North Prime—were built on sensationalism and allowed freelance journalists to file stories with them on a first-come, first-serve basis. Tessa had only watched a little of their programming but suspected she could upload a video to them herself and probably have it accepted.

Darius clutched Tessa’s arm, earning a warning look from Rufus. “Tessa, this is amazing! It’s even more than you asked for. You should totally do it.” She wondered if he simply appreciated any educational opportunity or just had poor taste in news. Before she could respond, he added, “You’ll get a pass now to be out of school.”

She slowly turned to him. “What?”

“Didn’t they explain it?” he asked. “If you’ve got a full internship, you don’t have to be here during prescribed hours. You’ve still got to show proof you’re up on your independent projects—this’ll sub in for one—and your tests, but they figure the real world experience trumps their schedule.”

Tessa regarded Daphne with new appreciation. Was it possible that this garishly dressed woman might offer even more freedom than the Institute’s freeform policies already did? Rufus cleared his throat loudly, interrupting her thoughts.

“I don’t want to trample anyone’s dreams here, but do we have any proof of who you are?” he asked. “And I don’t mean just looking up whatever fluff you’ve been working on.” Rufus, apparently, was up to speed on his news channels. “I mean, do we have any evidence that you’ve actually been authorized by the school to approach her?”

“Approach her?” asked Daphne with a chuckle. “Is she provincial royalty?”

But he was right, Tessa realized. The attack at the house should have had her on high alert around every new person she met. If someone had been enraged enough at Justin to go to his house and threaten her, wasn’t it just as likely someone might go and stage a scam internship to lure her into danger?

A check with the school’s field experience office verified that Daphne’s offer was legitimate. She’d been vetted and passed a background check. The only irregularity was that she was offering a much larger opportunity than the one the school had advertised for on Tessa’s behalf. When Rufus grilled Daphne on this, she simply shrugged and reiterated, “I don’t half ass things.”

And so, Tessa found herself agreeing to the opportunity, though Daphne was quick to emphasize that she still had to accept Tessa. “It’s not so much an interview as it is the chance to see if we can work together,” she explained. “You hungry? I’m hungry. Why don’t we go talk over sushi?”

Tessa winced. “Do you have a second choice?”

“You don’t like sushi?” asked Daphne. The tone of her voice made

Tessa wonder if this could make or break the internship. “I just had it yesterday, that’s all,” she lied.

“We’ll do Greek then.” Daphne’s voice offered no argument, and she gave Rufus and Darius a once-over. “Does your entourage have to come?”

“Rufus does,” said Tessa firmly. “Darius . . .” Looking at him, she faltered and suddenly felt like an idiot. He’d asked her out first today, and she’d completely rolled over his invitation and taken on a new one. Admittedly, he had been instrumental in urging her to do so.

Daphne, either impatient or hungry or both, shrugged and turned abruptly on her high heels. “Makes no difference to me. Let’s go.” Tessa meekly followed, and after a few moments, so did the men.

Daphne claimed it wasn’t an interview, but it certainly felt like one as their afternoon meal proceeded. Actually, interrogation might have been a more accurate term. Daphne managed to quiz Tessa about every part of her childhood and subsequent arrival in the RUNA while effortlessly going through a plate of souvlaki. Tessa had found a lot of Gemmans displayed mixed feelings about her provincial history, but Daphne took it in stride. “Well, I’m willing to give this a shot if you are,” she told Tessa.

“Don’t you need a parent or guardian signature before starting work?” asked Rufus.

Tessa nodded, recalling the forms she’d filled out. “We can do it remotely.”

“Too impersonal,” declared Daphne. “Let’s go over to your place and meet this servitor that took you under his wing. We’ll make sure he’s doubly okay with you working for me, and I’ll make sure I’m not indirectly getting involved with some political dissident.”

“Why in the world would you think that?” exclaimed Tessa. “He was kicked out of the country,” said Daphne.

“We don’t know that for sure.” The mystery of Justin’s exile in Panama was still exactly that: a mystery. “Besides, if he’s back, he can’t be in that much trouble.”

“Maybe he just has powerful friends.” Daphne waited for confirmation, but Tessa refused to play along. “Well, whatever the reasons, we need his signature, so let’s head out and find him.”

Tessa glanced at the time. “I don’t know if he’s home. But his sister can sign anything from the school too.”

“That’ll work.” Daphne brought up the table’s panel and requested a split bill. “Just so you know, even when you’re officially working for me, you cover your own expenses.”

And so, the bewildering day proceeded with Tessa taking Daphne (and the others) back to the suburbs to meet the March family. The train was crowded with commuters, leaving standing room only. Tessa made herself small near a window, casting occasional nervous looks at both Darius and Daphne—who unnerved her for completely different reasons.

“Be careful,” a voice murmured in Tessa’s ear.

She flinched, startled to find Rufus right beside her. “With what?”

”Her.” Rufus’s eyes stared at the window as he kept his voice low.

“She hasn’t written a single word down, no notes. Even for an intern’s interview, that’s weird for someone who works in the information business. That means she’s probably recording everything.”

The idea had never occurred to Tessa. She gulped. “I didn’t say anything incriminating . . . did I?”

“No, but you’re bringing her into the house of someone who works for Internal Security. We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t leave with any info she shouldn’t.”

“I . . . I’ll see what I can do,” stammered Tessa.

Rufus glanced down at her and winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

He made good on his point by checking Daphne over for surveillance equipment before they crossed the threshold into the March house. Along with a physical check, he also had a device he could scan her with. Daphne acted affronted but, to Tessa’s surprise, did actually turn out to be wearing a microphone.

“Standard journalistic practice,” she insisted.

“And removing it is standard practice before entering the home of a government official,” Rufus told her sweetly.

It was actually a relief to Tessa to find that only Cynthia and Quentin were home. Daphne still peppered Cynthia with questions, including specifics about Justin and any “powerful friends.”

“I have no idea what my brother does all day,” Cynthia snapped. “It’s a boring government job. And Tessa has nothing to do with any of that anyway—not that it should matter if you just need an intern to get you coffee or whatever. Explain again all she’ll be doing. I want to understand it before I sign anything.”

This put Daphne on the defensive, quick to defend herself and the golden opportunity she presented. Tessa, watching the two women barter at the kitchen table, was simply glad to have the pressure taken off of her. Rufus relieved a praetorian who’d been hanging around the house and then joined Quentin in front of the living room screen, ostensibly out of the way but still easily accessible. That left Tessa standing alone with Darius.

“This is so weird,” she said. “Did you have to go through all of this for an internship?”

He shook his head. “No. At least not yet. The senate’s human resources department sent me a questionnaire and then wants me to come in to talk about finding the best placement. I never would’ve gotten fast tracked like that without your help.”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Tessa, feeling shy. “And you were the one who did all the work with that guy.”

Darius grinned. “I don’t want to do it again, though. I’ll leave the heroics to Rufus and your praetorians.”

Daphne almost had Cynthia on the verge of signing the permission document when Justin came home with Mae. He raised an eyebrow at Darius and came to a complete standstill over Daphne. She leapt to her high heeled feet and glided over to him, extending a hand.

“You must be Dr. March. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she oozed. Justin gave her a quick head-to-toe assessment that lingered on her

short skirt and then put on the smile he usually reserved for pretty women. “Likewise, Miss . . . ?”

“Lang. Daphne Lang.”

Again, Tessa heard that expectant tone in her voice, like she was hoping to be recognized. Cynthia saved him the trouble of further fact finding.

“She’s a North Prime reporter who wants to adopt Tessa,” said Cynthia. In her periphery, Tessa saw Rufus sidle up to Mae and whisper in her ear.

Justin’s hand dropped, as did his smile. “No. Tessa is not going to be the subject of some poor-provincial-girl-in-the-big-city piece for that crap news channel.”

A slight pursing of the lips was Daphne’s only sign of irritation at all about her employer being called a “crap news channel.”

”That’s not why I’m here at all. She sought me out, through her school’s internship program.”

Justin shot Tessa a surprised look. “You applied for an internship?

You . . . want to be a reporter?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know. It just kind of happened.”

The story tumbled out in bits and pieces, put together by both Daphne and Tessa. Justin shook his head in exasperation when they finished. “Maybe you should see if another news channel bites,” he said.

“North Prime puts out some very excellent pieces,” Daphne said stiffly. “This is a big opportunity for her.”

“I’d rather she just sat at a desk for a whole class period and actually listened to a lecture or something,” said Justin. “I don’t like all this experiential stuff.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” said Cynthia. “The internship, I mean. I’ve always thought real world experience can carry more weight than classroom learning.”

“That’s because you—” Justin wisely bit off his words and turned back to Daphne. “Look, if you want Tessa to be your errand girl, I want a different document that you’ll sign saying you won’t turn her story into trashy entertainment.”

Daphne pouted, but Tessa could tell she wasn’t truly offended. “You really think that’s why I’m here? Fine, I’ll sign whatever you like.”

Mae strode forward and stood at his side, fixing Daphne with a stare that chilled the room. “I’m sure it’ll take time for their lawyer to draw that up. The family will be in touch when everything’s ready for signing, so that should wrap things up for now.” There was no need to voice the unspoken Now get out at the end of her words.

The come-hither look Daphne had used on Justin turned into something much harder as she sized up Mae. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You are . . . ?”

“Praetorian Mae Koskinen. Dr. March’s bodyguard.”

Daphne arched an eyebrow and then glanced at Justin. “Everyone’s got a bodyguard around here. And you have a formidable one . . . for a boring government job.”

Justin looked a little surprised to hear her using Cynthia’s earlier wording but didn’t comment on it. “Just precautionary diligence on the government’s part.”

Quentin’s voice suddenly piped up from the living room. “Uncle Justin? You’re on the news!”

Everyone’s heads swiveled toward the screen. There, one of the RUNA’s most famous journalists—who worked for a far more prestigious network than North Prime—was reporting on Senator Lucian Darling’s just-announced trip to Arcadia.

“The senator, as part of a gesture of good will and desire to exchange ideas with the Arcadians, will be accompanied by a number of cultural experts,” the reporter was saying as several headshots— including Justin’s—were displayed on the screen. “Atticus Marley, special diplomatic envoy to Arcadia. Professor George Yi, of the comparative culture department at Vancouver University. Dr. Justin March, IS servitor and former instructor of religious studies. Phil Ramirez, international trade expert and analyst.”

The scene cut to live footage of Lucian Darling standing gallantly on the senate steps, holding a press conference. “It is our hope,” he was saying, “that by showing our willingness to learn about their culture, the Arcadians will in turn be more open-minded to learning about ours, thus helping forge new connections and ease hostilities between our nations.” When one of the attending journalists asked about the danger the trip involved for him, especially during election season, Lucian simply smiled and shook his head. He launched into what Tessa could tell was a well-prepared statement on how it was more important to take a risk for his country’s well-being than stay safe on the campaign trail.

“He’s so, so good,” murmured Daphne.

The reporters at the senate erupted in questions. Back in the March house, Justin muttered something uncomplimentary, and Cynthia shot him an outraged look. “When the hell were you going to tell me?”

He sighed. “In a quiet moment, without reporters. Anywhere.” Cynthia, eyes wide, turned back to the screen as Lucian fielded

another question about the risks of traveling into Arcadia. “It’s crazy! It doesn’t matter what nonsense he’s touting about bravery to the country!”

“It’s a very public expedition,” said Justin calmly. “It wouldn’t be worth the fallout for them or us to screw it up. Besides, with Lucian around, I’ll even have more protection than I do on my regular trips. Nothing can happen.”

“You don’t go to places as bad as Arcadia on your regular trips!”

Cynthia exclaimed. When Justin didn’t respond, she turned even more incredulous. “Do you? Where the hell do you go?”

“Where do you think I go when I say I’m leaving the country?”

“I don’t know!” She threw up her hands. “The EA. Panama. It’s state business. I didn’t think I should ask too many questions. Maybe I should have.”

“When are you—and Lucian—coming back?” asked Daphne.

Mae, clearly not liking what she saw as an outsider to family business, swiftly moved to the reporter’s side. “Miss Lang, I think it’s time you go. As I said, someone will be in touch with you about the paperwork. I’ll walk you to the door now.” Mae’s voice was perfectly polite, but Tessa could sense the praetorian steel within. Daphne apparently could as well.

“I’ll find my own way out,” said Daphne stiffly. “But thank you, praetorian.”

“I insist,” said Mae.

She and Daphne locked eyes, igniting a battle of wills that left everyone uneasy. Tessa admired that Daphne even managed a fighting chance, but ultimately, it seemed Mae would win since she could literally throw the other woman out of the house. Tessa took a tentative step forward.

“I’ll walk Daphne out. I brought her here. It’s only polite.”

Mae’s sharp gaze turned on Tessa, apparently to ponder whether or not Tessa could be trusted to make sure Daphne actually left. After several long moments, Mae gave a nod. Daphne made simpering farewells to Justin and Cynthia—though both were too preoccupied to really hear them—and then let Tessa lead her to the door.

“Well,” she told Tessa when they were alone. “I guess that answers my question about Dr. March having ‘powerful friends.’” She paused eloquently. “And just between you and me, I think there’s some serious family dysfunction going on around here.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Tessa wearily, opening the door. “But thank you for your time.”

Daphne crooked her a grin and leaned against the side of the doorway. “Such finality. I really hope you’ll get your paperwork in order and come work with me because you can have the position if you want it. Your benefactor may roll his eyes at North Prime, and that castal praetorian can glare all she wants, but here’s the truth. You aren’t going to get a lot of people answering Creative Minds’ ad for you. They spell out that you’re provincial, and not many people are going to go for that. They won’t even think you can speak English.”

Tessa flinched. She’d gotten so used to the acceptance at Creative Minds that she’d nearly forgotten the prejudice toward provincials that she’d experienced in other schools. She’d run into enough of it in the RUNA, however, to know that Daphne’s words weren’t entirely made up as part of some sales pitch.

“Why don’t you have a problem with provincials then?” Tessa asked. “Do you really want to do a story on me and my great transition?”

“Nope. And I’ll sign what you need to prove it.” Daphne leaned forward. “You want to know why I answered your ad? It’s because I grew up in an annexed region, and even after those places become Gemman, it’s only marginally less difficult to make something of yourself in the ‘real’ RUNA than it is coming from the provinces.” She chucked Tessa’s chin. “That, and I like hard luck cases.”

“You sound like Justin,” muttered Tessa. “How so?”

“Half the reason he brought me here is because he felt like he owed my father. The other half is because Justin said I reminded him of him. He grew up in a bad-off area and got some sort of lucky break.”

Daphne grinned. “See? We’re meant to work together. I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, she headed out the door, off down the suburban sidewalk in those red heels. Tessa watched her go until she was out of sight, taking it on faith that Daphne would go toward the transit station and not double back around and spy on the house, like Mae and Rufus seemed to think. Of course, Mae had also made sure all the peripheral security sensors and cameras were working and updated, so there probably wasn’t any way Daphne could’ve staged espionage—if that truly was her goal.

When Tessa returned to the kitchen, she found Justin and Cynthia wrapping up an argument about his trip that neither seemed satisfied with. In just a few seconds, Tessa picked up that Cynthia had asked him to drop out, and he’d refused. She pressed her hands to the side of her head and groaned.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m so upset, I can’t even cook.” With that unprecedented statement, she stormed off to her room. “Looks like delivery,” said Justin, watching her go. When he noticed Tessa, his expression turned wry. “And you. You brought a reporter under my roof.”

“I didn’t really expect a family argument,” said Tessa. “Besides, it’s not like that Arcadian news was top secret.”

He exchanged a pained look with Mae. “True. I thought they were going to wait a couple of days before releasing it,” he said. “But look, if you really are crazy enough to want to work with a reporter, wait for someone else from a better channel.”

“Daphne doesn’t think there’ll be anyone else,” said Tessa. She told them what Daphne had said about Tessa being provincial, both how Daphne found it endearing and how others wouldn’t. Justin and Mae exchanged looks again, this time of a different nature that Tessa couldn’t interpret.

“She’s not wrong,” said Rufus, from the living room.

Justin was silent for several moments, then he sighed again and began rummaging through the wine cabinet. “Fine. You can work with her if you want, but not before she signs a non-disclosure agreement about your life story. And for God’s sake, don’t bring her back in this house again.”

Tessa nodded and turned around, noticing then that Darius was still there, leaning against the wall. She groaned. “I’m so sorry about all of this. About blowing off coffee and everything else. Come on—I’ll walk you out too, and maybe we can reschedule. Again—I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, as she led him to the door. “One thing I’ll say for sure: it’s never boring when I come over here.”