Page 61 of Ezra
“I’m afraid I burned that bridge,” Katrina admits. “I won’t be proudly wearing my alumni ring anytime soon.”
I should probably make myself scarce. I like to do daily sweeps the lower floors, the stairwells, and the reception area of the tower for any signs of danger. Whatever I can do to give her a little privacy.
“I wish they could’ve placed us together. I hate being separated from you,” her mother says as I step away.
“I’ve been more than safe, I promise.” When I reach for the door handle, Katrina mutes her phone, calling, “Ezra, it’s okay. Stay.”
I squint at her. “What?”
“Stay,” she says. I zoom in, studying her features as she beckons to me, genuinely imploring me. She’s quiet, but troubled. “Please?”
No. Vulnerable. Perhaps nervous. I’m not sure why.
I give a slight nod. “Very well.” I step away from the door, head over to the other side of the lounge, and stay close by as she wishes.
“Here’s your father,” Mrs. Carson says. The holographic projection jiggles in place a bit as the phone is exchanged.
“Kitty.” Robert Carson is still bedridden, and his smile is fatigued. “Good news. I’ve made a few calls, and we’ve got almost two hundred attendees for this gala.”
“Dad.” Katrina sounds worried. “You should be resting, not taking point on this. Surely one of the others can take over for you.”
“You sound like your mother.”
“Good,” Katrina huffs.
“I’ll rest later. I’ve no doubt between this and your online fundraiser, the families of the museum victims will have enough to cover funeral costs and whatever else they may need. It won’t replace the people they’ve lost, but if we can take this financial burden off their shoulders, it’s something. Everything set up at the college?”
Embarrassed, Katrina shakes her head. “Had some choice words for the dean, and it didn’t go well.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Carson says.
“How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m still kicking. Make no mistake. It’ll take more than a bullet or two to bring me down. If anything I’m more determinedthan ever to combat these TerraPura cultists. How are you doing? Is Ezra keeping everything locked down well?”
“Yes,” Katrina replies. “He’s done a splendid job. Would you like to speak with him about security measures? I could put him on if you like.”
So that’s why she wanted me to remain. I’ll admit I’ve been curious about Carson ever since I learned he initially planned and designed me. But I’m not sure what there is to discuss. I’m not afraid or repulsed—though a slight wave of temperature differentiation flows through my systems.
My existence was first plotted by this man’s mind. He was friends with my maker. But he’s been quite vocal about shutting androids down completely, before.
Was that pure resentment for the loss of his friendship with Schroeder, or did he truly mean it?
I’m more inclined to take him at his word and keep my distance.
But Carson sighs heavily. “I’m sorry, Kitty, but that will only dredge up old memories I’d rather forget. I’m glad he is doing his job well. And that you’re safe. You said the NCPD isn’t utilizing him?”
“Not presently, no. It’s ridiculous. It’s like they’re trying to slow down the investigation on purpose. Pandering while people are in a panic. He shouldn’t be wasted on me.”
“I disagree. Your safety isn’t a waste,” I speak up.
Katrina looks at me appreciatively.
Carson makes a small noise, almost like he’s impressed. “Got a strong voice box installed on that one.” He returns his attention to his daughter. “With any luck, we’ll all be safe and back together soon. Keep doing what you can.”
“It’s all I ever do,” Katrina said. “Love you, Dad. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
The call ends. She turns to me, flustered. “I’m sorry I volunteered you like that without asking your permission first. I just hoped speaking to you might be a small first step.”
