Contact Imminent by Kristine Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

head and looked away. “I told you before that avoiding stuff like him has become a second vocation of mine. You sure as hell don’t need his brand of trouble, either.”
    â€œAnd John, of course, is no trouble whatsoever.”
    â€œSo sometimes he sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
    â€œTry meddling and controlling.”
    â€œHe’s trying to learn to back off—give him a break. At least I don’t see him getting you killed anytime soon. Or trying to hurt you so that he can relish some sense of power.” Val paused to reload, but before he could continue his defense, the object of his labors joined them, a tray of cups in hand.
    â€œI hear whispering.” John had removed his suit jacket in the interim, revealing the white, band-collared shirt he wore beneath. “What are you two plotting now?”
    â€œThe usual mayhem.” Jani accepted the steaming mug he handed her. “I should have let you know I was all right. I’m sorry.”
    â€œNot a problem.” John sat down across from her, concentrating on his coffee as though avoiding her eye. “I daresay you were otherwise occupied.”
    Jani heard Val mutter “John” under his breath, thought of a score of cutting rejoinders, and voted down them all. Instead, she sipped her coffee, and as usual found it as rich, complex, and overbearing as the man who’d made it.
    â€œBreakfast is served.” Lucien carried a plate in each hand and two more nestled in the crooks of his arms, setting them out with the skill of a waiter from Gaetan’s before returning to the counter for toast and other side dishes. “You’re almost out of these,” he said as he set a small tablet dispenser beside Jani’s plate.
    Jani shook out two of the brown digestive enzyme tablets and tossed them in her mouth, washing them down with coffee. “Should I just give Xenodietetics a call?” she asked, directing her question to Val.
    â€œI’ll take care of it.” John shoved a forkful of omelet in his mouth, chewing with the stolid determination of a man duty-bound to find something to complain about. He couldn’t, though. Cooking was part of Lucien’s toolkit, and like everything else in the set, the skill was flawlessly executed. For several minutes the sounds of cutlery clatter were the only ones to be heard.
    Jani dredged a last corner of toast through a smear of cheese. “Loathe as I am to eat and run, I need to find out what’s going on.” She popped the morsel into her mouth, savoring the flavors as well as the final moments of relative peace in what promised to be a whirlwind of a day. “The Trib-Times morning edition is out by now, and the news services have had all night to patch together something lucid.” She pushed back from the table and stilled, her hands braced on the edge, trying to work up the nerve to stand up and walk to her office.
    John wadded his dispo napkin, tossed it atop his plate, then picked it up again. “I didn’t realize you put that much stock in public information sources.”
    â€œI don’t when it comes to fact. But as a gauge of public mood, of what the PM wants people to think, they’re hard to beat.” Jani watched him twist the corner of the napkin between his fingers until it shredded, then glanced at Val to find him staring down at his plate. “You know, I spent a few months of my life in a basement watching you two take turns not telling me things. This is Mealtime Ploy NumberThirty-Seven—Studiously Disinterested in One Another.” She sat back and folded her arms. “What’s going on?”
    Val tapped his fork against his cup. “Could you spare us a few minutes?”
    â€œEven if this mine incident hadn’t occurred, we still would have arrived on your doorstep. We need to talk to you.” John’s metal stare never left Jani’s face.