Kevin was enveloped in blackness. Although his attenuated sense of touch did not enable him to distinguish fine details of structure or texture, he felt himself confined and his movement restricted. It was about what he'd expected the inside of a folded black plastic bag to be like. And Taki said he'd wrapped the mec in another piece of plastic inside that.
"Any luck?" Taki's voice said in his ear.
"Well, I'm through, but mummified. Now I have to try and get out of this stuff."
There seemed to be light of some sort coming from the outside. . . .
"Is there"
"Shh."
And the muffled sound of a voicea woman's.
"I'm not anywhere in this house, and that's for sure," Kevin said.
"How could it not be in the house? That's crazy."
"Well, either it got taken out by mom, or it got taken out by Harriet. Nobody else has been here, have they?"
"Oh, okay. . . . I guess so."
"Logic, Taki. Logic."
Bending his body forward to create space in front of him, Kevin brought his arms together and gripped one of his claw hands with the other. He released the wrist catches, enabling the hand to come free, and clipped it into a receptacle in the mec's accessory belt. Feeling farther along, he located a blade attachment and secured it in the empty wrist socket. A couple of slow slicing motions through the inner wrappings, one vertical and one horizontal like a papal blessing from the Vatican balcony, gave him some working room. Then, cutting a layer at a time and using his claw hand to clear the way, he made an incision through the outer bag.
The light was coming from somewhere on the floor. . . . No it wasn'the was upside down. He could hear more clearly now, but the voice that was speaking was now a man's. Kevin pushed aside the curtains of waxy blanket, thrust his head and shoulders through, and twisted until he could view the world right side up.
"There are plenty of places in Bellevue to eat," the man's voice was saying. "Or Trev could rustle up something here. Whatever you prefer."
"Oh, let's go out somewhere. I could use some air and exercise after driving." The woman's voice again. It sounded like Vanessa's.
A high, narrow canyon above opened to a yellow-brown sky. One side of the canyon was a smooth, maroon colored wall, most of it in shadow but the top part catching the light. The other side was dark and bumpy, curving toward the top like the wall of a cavern. Kevin had just recognized the maroon wall as a regular office file folder, when Taki's voice said, "I think you're in a plastic bag of folders and stuff. I saw it on the hall table." It meant that Taki had tuned in on the lab monitor.
"I thought you said you didn't leave it in the hall," Kevin accused.
"I said I didn't remember."
The man's voice came again. "Let's get the business out of the way while we're here. I don't like discussing it in public places, anyway." His voice fell to a more suggestive tone. "Besides, that way, we can get more relaxed over dinner for later."
"I've brought copies of the QA reports that I told you about. The figures for" The voice that sounded like Vanessa's grew suddenly louder, but Kevin missed the rest as an enormous hand closed around the top of the maroon wall and lifted it away. For a moment the canyon mouth above yawned wider, bounded now by a green folder back from where the maroon one had been; then the green wall leaned and toppled, crushing down the plastic side opposite to transform the vertical canyon into a cave, and tipping over the package containing Kevin in the process. Now he was underneath the green folder, looking up toward the light over a hump formed by the bowed-over underside of the bag. He squirmed and kicked to extricate himself from the plastic, and then crawled up the hump. From the top, beyond the opening between the folder above and the sagging side of the bag below, he could see part of a room. Still keeping to a crawl on the swaying surface, he moved closer to the rim to take in more of the surroundings.
Slight though it was, his weight was sufficient to make the edge of the plastic dip suddenly, taking him by surprise and spilling him out onto a surface of matted ropes covered in tangles of wiry fibers. The lip of the bag sprang back and hung above him, high and inaccessible.
"Very clever," Taki's voice remarked. "Now how are you going to get back in?"
"Shut up. If I want your opinion, I'll give it to you."
The woman was Vanessa, standing with her back to him and talking to someone that Kevin couldn't see. The room had a luxurious, expansive feel about it even from Kevin's diminutive perspective, with opulent furnishings and gold inlaid designs set into wood-panel wallsbut just at that moment he wasn't of a mind to ponder on such details. He was out in the open below the plastic bag, which was resting on a bench seat covered in a coarse, hairlike fabric, its back buttressed by cushions, extending away like a long cliff to a padded arm. If Vanessa turned back to get something else from the bag now, she couldn't miss seeing him. He picked himself up from where he had tumbled, and scurried into a hollow between two of the cushions. Sure enough, Vanessa turned, and a huge arm came down, causing Kevin to pull back into the darkness of the hollow. She took the green folder and straightened up the bag, speaking over her shoulder to her companion at the same time.
"I don't think he's going to change his mind about it, and we can't risk being too pushy. Honestly, I've made all the suggestions that I think would be prudent."
Kevin had a glimpse of a man with yellow hair, wearing a red shirt, as Vanessa turned away again. "Then we'll have Phil go ahead and draw up a codicil. It's probably the safest way, anyhow. . . ."
"It's your mom," Taki said illuminatingly.
"No! Really? My God, it is! I'd never have guessed. How do you figure these things out, Taki?"
"Well, excuse me. Jeesh. . . ."
The thing was to get away from the seat and the bag, the whole area where people were likely to be moving. Beside the arm of the bench was a U.S. flag furled about a polished wooden staff that stood attached to the wall by a brass bracket. Beyond was what looked like the end of a wooden wall cabinet, ornamented with carvings and shell inlays. Kevin thought it might be possible to get up onto the cabinet by climbing the folds of the flag. He exchanged the blade for his other claw hand again, then set off, worming up behind the cushions to get to the top of the seat back. The fabric afforded easy holds on both sides. His biggest problem was with protuberances of the mec's body catching in the threads.
Kevin waited until Vanessa had her back to him again, blocking the man's view, and then raced along the top of the seat and leaped into a fold of the flag, kicking the prong-tipped feet into the weave and gripping blindly with the claws. The flag was made of flimsier material than the seat cover, with a harder, finer-woven thread more difficult to grasp. He steadied himself, then started climbingor, more accurately, flounderinghis way upward through a near-vertical billow of stationary surf, unable to avoid making tremors that he prayed wouldn't give him away. Taki, for once, seemed to appreciate his predicament and kept quiet. Eventually, Kevin reached the top part of the mast where the folds became tighter and easier to wedge into, and made the last few inches to the top of the cabinet by bridging across the angle between the end and the wall.
The man with Vanessa was asking about new theoretical work on neural dynamics.
"You stick to organizing the finances," Vanessa said. "That's what you're better at. Don't worry about the scientific side. Leave that to me."
"I was just curious."
"I think you might find this more interesting."
"What is it?"
"Open it and see. . . ."
At last, Kevin had reached his haven. The top surface of the cabinet stretched away before him safe and secure in shadow, high near the ceiling. Along its length were carved heads and figurines, ornamental pieces in copper and brass, decorative plates, and a couple of replica dueling pistols mounted on plaques. To Kevin they looked like an avenue of gigantic sculptures staring down over the void. He moved cautiously to the edge and settled in the darkness behind the base of one of the figurines to observe the surroundings fully at last.
He wasn't good at estimating the ages of people over about thirty but the man talking with Vanessa looked to be in the range that was usually selected for sports equipment and fast-car commercials. Certainly, he had the looks. His yellow hair was styled collar-length, covering the ears, eyes clear and candid, tanned features, fine and strong-lined. He stood loose-limbed and athletic, wearing a bright red short-sleeved shirt with white edging, and white, lightweight, casual slacks. He was scanning through the contents of the green folder and saying something about forecasts and percentages that Kevin didn't follow.
The room itself, as Kevin had registered vaguely but not had time to think more about until now, was low-ceilinged, with round-backed chairs and a bulging couch, sculptures and art works set on tables or mounted in backlit niches, and carpeting patterned in black, browns, and gold. A marble-topped bar with mirrors behind stood below a long window at the far end, and across from it, a glass-fronted cabinet exhibiting sculptures and crystal.
"What do you make of this place?" Kevin asked Taki.
"I'm not sure. A pretty nifty kind of house. . . ."
"It looks like it should have pointy arches and snake-charmer music, somehow." Then Kevin noticed that the window partly visible behind the half-closed drapes high on the wall opposite, through which he could see lights reflecting off water, was rounded at the corners.
"Wait," Taki's voice said. "What was that?back to the right of where you're looking now."
"Where?" Kevin moved his gaze back to the right.
"Back a bit more. . . . There, on the end wall."
There were two doors in the end wall, the right-hand one closed, the other open to what appeared to be steps going down.
Mounted on the wall as a centerpiece between the doors was a carved wooden crest in the form of a composition of scrolls and ropework framing the inscription Princess Dolores.
"It's a boat," Taki said. "Didn't the guy say something about Bellevue? You must be up on Lake Washington somewhere."
"This is wonderful, Vanessa," the man in the red shirt was saying. "I hadn't realized it could be worth so much." He made a face, accompanied by an empty-handed gesture, and then smiled. "Will I still be able to afford you when you own all this?"
Vanessa moved close and pressed her head against his shoulder. "We'll own it." She looked up and murmured something close to his ear that didn't come through on the audio, and the man slid an arm around her. Kevin watched with rising discomfort. At least, it wasn't his natural mother, so he was spared having to deal with that. His strongest reaction was a feeling of indignation on behalf of Eric. Taki, discreetly, refrained from comment.
"Let's go out to the bar on the fantail," the man in the red shirt said to Vanessa. "I'll mix us a couple of drinks. Then we'll take a short drive. I think I know just the place." He slipped his arm from her waist and took her hand. They moved to the end of the cabin bearing the carved crest. The man opened the door to the right that had been closed, and showed Vanessa through.
"You could try getting the mec down," Taki suggested. "A bit of noise getting back into the bag won't matter now."
Kevin was thinking the same thing. Vanessa would find it later, of course. But she wouldn't even need to know that it had been out of the bag. It would just be a case of something belonging to the boys having inadvertently found its way into her luggage. He turned to go back the way he had come. . . .
And that was when he became aware of a freezing sensation in his back, almost painful. He had been too preoccupied with events to notice it building up.
He flipped on the system menu and selected status. The mec's charge was almost exhausted, pointer down in the red arc, which was pulsing. Almost certainly there wouldn't be enough to get back down to the seat, then have to either fight up the outside of the plastic bag or cut through into it. He deactivated, and all of a sudden was back at the house, sitting in a coupler in the downstairs lab.
"I don't think I'm going to be able to do it," he told Taki, who was perched on a stool by the bench alongside. "It hasn't got enough juice left. I think maybe we're just gonna have to write off another one."
Later, Kevin called Eric at the lab. His outrage had abated, and he had decided that adult business was something best left to adults. It wasn't as if Vanessa was related in any way that made it his problem to get involved in personally, anyway. Even if it were, he had no idea what he was supposed to do.
"Dad," he said. "Would it be okay for Taki to stay over tonight? We really got the plane working properly today, and we're right in the middle of making the mods permanent. And Mom and Harriet have both left."
"Sure," Eric said. "In fact, it would work out better. We can take Taki with us to Hiroyuki's for the barbecue tomorrow, and it will save anyone having to pick him up tonight."
Kevin nodded, giving Taki a silent thumbs-up sign. "That's what we thought too."
"Oh, and Michelle was here at the lab again today," Eric said. "Apparently Ohira forgot to invite her. I thought that was a bit unforgivable since she's hardly a stranger to the family. So I said she could come along with us too. She'll be stopping by the house at about noon."
"Great," Kevin said. He frowned to himself. Had he imagined it, or was there just a hint of a swagger in Eric's voice? A note of feeling quite pleased with himself, in fact.
"Okay, I shouldn't be very much longer. Put three steaks and some veg on the timer for about eight. Then after dinner you can show me what you did on the plane."
"Sure. Will do. We'll see you later, then." Kevin hung up. "It's okay. You can drive back over with us tomorrow." He looked back at the phone and contemplated it for a few seconds. "Good for you Dad," he muttered, then nodded approvingly.