He fell and fell, coming dangerously close to kissing the dirt, but his tech strap stopped him at the last moment, just as Briona had said it would. He bounced back just the right distance for the guys on the bridge to pull him in.

Raj and Lee were several yards away, against the railing, having an argument.

"Briona ..." I turned to her. "I need to ask you something."

"Yes, honey, anything."

"Did you ever meet a donor body named Emma?"

Briona stared back at me. Maybe she was trying to remember.

"She was tall, blond curls, strong features," I said.

"Doesn't sound familiar. Did she do something to you?"

"No. I'd just like to find someone who knew her."

"Sorry. Wish I could be more help. After a while, most of these donors begin to look the same, you know?"

"What about your friends? Could they have known her?"

"Doubt it. In spite of all their bravado, they really haven't rented much." She looked over at Lee and Raj. Lee was getting ready to jump. "I don't believe it."

In a second, Lee's body became a black bullet arcing into the air and falling in slo-mo.

So much for contracts and rules.

CHAPTER NINE.

After Lee survived his crazy techno bounce, he drove us back to Club Rune. Raj stayed in the car while Lee kept the engine running. Briona got out with me to say goodbye. I smoothed my windswept hair.

"Definitely keep in touch, Callie. We could have so much fun together. Do you play bridge? Listen to me, only thinking of spinster games. Never mind that. We could go shopping. Or dancing. Or z-blading."

She gave me a long hug. When we pulled apart, I opened my wallet to look for a card for her. Instead, I was surprised to see a wad of cash. I had emptied my purse yesterday, so Blake could give it all to Michael.

"What are you doing?" Briona asked.

"Getting a card to give you."

"You don't need that, silly. That's just for ol' Enders." She winked.

I'd never heard an Ender call themselves that, but then, she was in her pretend-teen mode.

She held up her cell phone. "I grabbed your number. Gave you mine. If you're about to do something fun-"

"Or dangerous," Lee interrupted, his hand resting on the back of the car seat.

"-call me," Briona continued. "Call me for any reason. I do want to see more of you. I feel like we're old friends already."

Old is right, I thought.

She got back in the car and waved her lovely jeweled hand as they drove away.

All I could think about was the cash in my purse. Once I was in my car with the doors locked, and before I pulled away from the safety of the valet zone, I counted the bills in my purse. It was exactly the amount I had given to Blake.

The next morning, I drove a few blocks away from the house and pulled over to the curb. I called Blake but got his voiceZing.

"Hey, it's Blake. You know what to do."

"Hi, Blake. It's Callie. Can you call me, please?"

After I disconnected, I wished I had said more. But I wasn't about to call him back. He hadn't called me since our date.

I wouldn't have called at all if it weren't for my brother.

I met Lauren at a Thai restaurant she chose. It was in the Valley, tucked deep in the corner of a minimall with way too many signs. Not really a hangout for a rich Ender like Lauren. But I knew she had picked it because the chances of running into anyone who would know us were next to zero. Not that we were recognizable, but we didn't want someone to hear us talking.

We sat at a booth in the back. The Ender bus boy brought us water and checked us out. The working Enders had no idea that the exclusive body bank even existed. They didn't know that the hot young "Reece" was really the hundred-plus-year-old Lauren, or that my drop-dead looks were not thanks to Mother Nature but to state-of-the-art technology. It wasn't part of their world. They were just happy to have jobs to carry them into their older old age.

And it made the chaotic transition after the Spore Wars somewhat easier that the Enders were already back in the workforce, due to their extended lifetimes.

After we ordered, Lauren glanced around, her glossy red hair swinging. The closest party was two booths over, and the recorded Thai music covered whatever they were saying. She seemed satisfied that no one could hear us.

"Helena, are you still going to go through with it?" She stared at me with those mesmerizing green eyes.

I sipped my water. I needed to say something that didn't give away the fact that I had no clue what Helena's plan was.

Finally, I settled on "I don't know."

She straightened and her eyes brightened. My words gave her hope.

"It's wrong," she said. "You know it's wrong."

"I suppose so."

"Of course it is." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Murder is always wrong."

Murder?

I did my best not to show the shock that hit my gut like an unfriendlie's fist. I placed my elbows at the edge of the table and dropped my forehead into my hands, trying to cover my surprise as Ender angst.

Inside, I was reeling.

I had to know more. But I couldn't ask her straight out. I bit the inside of my cheek. Then I remembered what Lauren had said yesterday.

"But victimizing Starters"-I caught myself-"teens ... is wrong too. Don't you think?" I asked.

"Of course it's wrong. Every day, I wake up thinking about my Kevin. With my daughter and son-in-law gone, he was all I had left."

"Like me."

"But you've given up. I still have hope that my grandson's alive out there somewhere. That's the great difference between us."

If she only knew.

It was strange hearing such refined words coming from those pouty teen lips.

"This is a horrible puzzle ... tracking down people who saw him, clawing for bits and scraps of information."

"Did you find out anything last night?"

She shook her head. "It was a dead end. They never even saw Kevin."

The food arrived, but neither of us was very interested in it.

"He was always a cute boy." She contemplated her plate of pad thai. "He didn't need that makeover."

I looked at her, my mind racing to catch up in this crazy guessing game. She put her hand to her mouth.

"Oh, Helena. I'm truly sorry. You know I didn't mean that Emma needed ..."

I didn't have the whole picture, but I was beginning to get a corner of it. "Emma was never conventionally pretty," I said, taking a risk. "I know that."

"Until she got her makeover," Lauren said softly.

Was that why she did it? To get the makeover?

"I guess ... I guess she really wanted it," I said, looking for confirmation.

Lauren reached across the table and patted my hand.

"It's not your fault. How many things have our grandkids asked for that we had to say no to? Just like our children? Guardians have to be able to say no."

I leaned my chin on my palm and nodded, encouraging her to say more.

"We both thought we were doing the right thing," she said. "Titanium plastic surgery, green laser sculpting at sixteen? How could we possibly condone that?"

"But Emma found her way to get it."

"As did my Kevin." She pulled her hand away and sat back. "Who knew boys could be as vain as girls?" She shrugged.

So I was wrong. Emma-and Kevin-might have lived in luxury, but they didn't have everything they wanted. They wanted physical perfection. And the only way they could get it was through the body bank.

"So they must have lied," I said.

"Of course. Prime wouldn't have taken them if they'd known they had relatives. They want the unattached, unencumbered, disenfranchised. The kids with no families to investigate if they don't come home. Prime releases some of the kids to enlist more bodies, but ours weren't the lucky ones."

I could have sworn I saw a hint of her weary age behind those green eyes.

So the puzzle picture formed. Some rich, spoiled teens lied to the body bank, using fake last names so they could pretend to be poor orphans. They didn't want the bucks. They wanted the free laser makeovers their grandparents wouldn't allow. Then they never came home.

"Lauren-"

She interrupted. "Practice calling me Reece, will you?"

"Reece, about killing. It does concern me." I looked down. I didn't have to fake the angst anymore. "I've been thinking.... It is wrong."

"Really?"

"But Prime Destinations ..." I had to get her to tell me who I was going to kill. Somebody at the body bank was my best guess. "I do blame them...."

"You're not alone."

"Yes, you, me ..." I let my voice trail off, hoping she'd pick up the slack.

"... and the Colemans, the Messians, the Posts," she ticked off on her fingers. "The other grandparents we found blame Prime. But none of them are talking about shooting anyone."

Now it was my turn to look around. I caught the waitress two tables over staring at us.

"Don't worry, I've kept my word," Lauren said. "Haven't told anyone. Yet."

"The head of Prime Destinations ..." It must be him.

"Don't start that again. The Old Man's impossible to find."

"He's tall. And wears a hat," I said, remembering seeing him from the back that day at Prime. "And a long coat ..."

"So we've heard. But I've never seen him."

I had. Arguing with Tinnenbaum at Prime. But Lauren seemed certain he was not Helena's target. If the head of Prime wasn't the man she planned to assassinate, then who?

Lauren leaned closer, looking me straight in the eye. "Just tell me, Helena, who is it? Who do you want to kill?"

She didn't know.

"I can't say." I looked away. It might have been the only true thing I'd said.

"This target of yours isn't the only one who'll die. This poor girl you're inside, that lovely young body?" Lauren reached over and gave my hair a flick. "She'll be shot dead on the spot."

The world went silent.

That's me! I wanted to shout. My body! Me! But any words were stuck somewhere deep inside my throat. The pungent smell of lemongrass and fish sauce was making me queasy. All I could do was look down at my bowl of yellow curry, the first food in a year that I had no stomach to eat.