The Kingmaker

4 - Pretend

"It's a nice place."

"Yeah, kid, nice and cozy."

Eden looked around the room and noted with amusement that there were no decorations of any kind. The furnishings were a different story: a large L-shaped work desk at the back of the room just the way she liked it, opposite of the door. A four-poster bed in the corner, a nightstand, no pesky floor lamps or table lamps but a string of nested, circular ceiling lights illuminating the room instead. An enormous, empty bookcase on the side of the room, waiting to be filled with whatever books she cared to put on its shelves.

And most conspicuously, a plethora of electrical outlets littered the walls every few feet, along with floor sockets installed into the wooden floorboards. She could lie down anywhere she wanted and hook her devices up to work on.

Interesting. Someone had done their research. It irked Eden that whoever had arranged to have this room - this entire house - built for her had investigated her life so thoroughly that they knew her exact preferences this way, but she said nothing aloud. Mr. Cell Phone wouldn't say much of anything about it anyway even if she complained - or maybe he'd tell her something along the lines of Good, they'd better keep watching you if they know what's good for them. No point at all.

"Aren't you leaving?"

The man threw her a look over his shoulder from where he stood watching her in the doorway. "Why do you want me to leave so badly?"

"I mean, you're welcome to stay if you want. Also, thanks so much for all your help." Eden gave him a simpering smile. "I've seen you almost every day for ten months and I still don't even know your name, what is it?"

"Nice try, kid. No, you're not getting my name so that you can come find me in ten years and disembowel me for looking at you wrong."

She didn't even try to convince him otherwise. Funny how he so adamantly believed that she would dedicate so much time and effort to tear down a man who meant next to nothing to her - his only importance, his only relevance was in his connection to the party responsible for her care. And since he was handing her over into the custody of a different representative, her interest in him had already begun to wane.

But he was fun, at least, so she played along. "Good catch," she complimented him. "I'll definitely find you though. Good luck when I do."

He gave her a displeased scoff and rolled his eyes. "Sure, kid. If you've got nothing better to do."

"You're the one who thinks I'm going to be a serial killer."

"And you're the one who said you'll be worse."

"Did I say that?" Eden absently scratched her chin and gave him another smile, although this time it was far more smug. "Anyway. Stop harassing me. I'm an orphan, you'll make me cry."

All Mr. Cell Phone did was give her a disgusted look that revealed all too clearly that with that callous, offhanded joke, she had just confirmed every one of his darkest assumptions about her. "God, you f*****g psychotic screwups. Just stay here until someone comes to get you."

"Sure."

The door closed behind him, and Eden resumed looking about the room. She had gotten rid of him as she had wanted to, even if it came at the cost of making a sideways mention of her late family. It was a shame that she still felt so emotionally compromised every time she was reminded of them, but it was a good sign that she could confidently bring them up herself whenever she felt the need to. For instance, in order to unbalance someone with poor, morbid comedy and get them to leave her alone.

She didn't have time to idle around, after all. She had a lot of work to do.

She began with the vents, puling from her jeans pocket the dirty dime she had surreptitiously picked up off the curb while getting out of the car that had driven her to this place. Lucky, but she supposed that after all the s**t she had muddled through to get this far, she deserved to find a filthy ten-cent coin on the sidewalk for her troubles. It couldn't have been a damn screwdriver, she thought as she worked open the screws of the vent on her knees. She would have to check them all one by one - maybe move the desk around the room so that she could inspect the ones on the ceiling.

No cameras, so far. But that was to be expected. Clearly, someone knew her well enough to know that she would immediately suspect a bugged room. This meant nothing: it was just as likely that they would wait a few weeks until she let down her guard and felt comfortable before laying their various traps. That was where her fatal flaw might have been if she didn't know better - if she didn't have reason to suspect that someone was watching her. But the private ward in the hospital, the car with the tinted windows driving her along back country roads for the last four hours, and the secrecy that everyone conducted themselves with - none of this was normal.

It had been nearly an hour if she had to guess - there was no clock in here, curiously - when someone knocked on the door. Cute, Eden thought as she replaced the ceiling vent cover and resecured the screws with the coin. Knocking on the door? So they were going to pretend to respect her privacy...for now.

"What is it."

"My name's Delilah, can I come in?"

A woman. She was on the younger side judging from her voice, youthful and cheery. But not spontaneous and energetic at all. She sounded like an older sister, Eden thought, and she felt her jaw clench at the string of deductions that ran through her mind like a lightning strike.

Of course. This Delilah was probably her caretaker here. Of course they would make it someone who could step into the vacant role of elder sister, a worldly wise woman likely mature beyond her years. The position was open, after all, wasn't it? Since Brook was dead and all.

Eden fought down her ugly anger and licked her lips, quashing her emotions as swiftly as she could. Yes, whoever was doing all this was definitely attempting to manipulate her, but if she played along for now, she could learn more about them through their own machinations. So for now, she would let this go. She'd wait to make them regret it.

"Sure, come in," she called out. She tapped the vent cover twice to make sure it was on solidly before jumping down her desk. 'Delilah' had already opened the door and was watching her with wide eyes.

"What were you doing?" she asked, her voice innocently curious. Maybe even a little amused.

Ah-ah-ah. Eden knew better than to fall for that. This woman knew exactly what she was doing. "I'm looking to see if anyone's spying on me," she said casually. "Because that would make me incredibly sad."

She had long, dark hair and warm brown eyes. A face that would make someone want to trust her, Eden noted, and even now her expression was nothing but kind and patient. They'd done well with this one. How old was she, mid-twenties? Late? They probably wouldn't choose a woman with a family already to be her caretaker - no doubt they would want Eden to eventually believe she would be the most important thing in this woman's life. And vice versa. Interesting how people's minds worked, as if one connection could so easily replace another. Did they think she could be so easily disassembled and put back together, like a mass produced creation with interchangeable parts? They were offering a replacement sister figure now, so what was next? A pretend set of parents?

Please. She loved taking people by surprise, but she wished they would at least give her a little credit.

"You're pretty," said Eden. "How old are you?"

Delilah smiled. "Twenty seven."

Ah. It figured they wouldn't go for someone exactly the same age as Brook had been. Similar, but not exact. Would have been too obvious otherwise. Or maybe Delilah was just lying about her age. That would make things a lot easier for them all, she supposed.

"That's nice. You're a little older than my sister was. She turned twenty four on her last birthday."

Delilah said nothing, and Eden wondered if she had perhaps been a little too on-the-nose. Maybe she should dial it back and approach it another way.

"Aren't you kind of young to take care of me?"

The woman smiled again. "Does it look that way?"

"Yeah."

"Then that's because it is. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. I'm just here to make sure your basic needs are met, and you'll be in charge of everything else. If there's anything you want or need, you let me know and I'll take care of it."

Oh. Eden's eyes flickered up and down the woman's form, taking in the semi-formal attire she was wearing with a renewed interest. Interesting...She had thought it was just to suit the formality of an introductory occasion, but maybe it wasn't quite that, after all.

"So, you're a butler."

Delilah's eyebrows rose. "Whatever you'd like to call it."

"Okay, then. Is my butler going to tell me the catch? What's with all this?" Eden waved a hand around her room. "You guys go and set up this nice playground for me, give me my favorite things, try to make me more comfortable than I need to be. I should be in the foster system, not this. Whatever this is."

The woman leaned against the doorway, giving her a curious look. "You already know what's going on. You're not going to go into the system. You're staying here."

Staying here.

There was something ominous about the way she said it, and Eden felt a cold chill travel down her spine. Yes, she had suspected something, but...

"Your family's murders were pinned on your mother's work against organized crime, Eden, but someone is out to get to you. It's not a coincidence that you were gone when it all happened, and there's no telling when they'll come back to clean up their loose ends, either. You're not safe anywhere, at any time, unless you cooperate and let us protect you."

This wasn't the conversation Eden had been expecting. Far from it. She had thought there would be games first, subtle manipulations. Apparently not.

"We're not your enemy, Eden. But we won't be kind to you, either. We know what you're capable of, and we know what you and your father were working on before it all happened. We know a lot of things that would have gotten both of you in a lot of trouble, but instead of reopening old wounds, we're willing to let it go."

Eden clicked her tongue against her teeth, momentarily lost for words. She couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt this way, as if she had just made a very unwise move and walked straight into an ambush with her eyes closed. Her eyes flitted around the room once more, wondering if every word she said was being recorded. It had to be, she thought. There was no way it wouldn't be.

"If you're looking around like that because you think this place is bugged, it is. We're not playing games here, Eden. Your father was dangerous, and we know that in time, you'll do even worse. Your mother worked with us for a time while she was crusading for reform in Alexandria, which is the only reason you haven't been hauled off to have your brain picked apart for all the secrets we know you and your father shared."

Dangerous, indeed. Eden had never thought of her father that way, but she well knew that the things in his head, his knowledge and expertise combined with his...unique motivations, would have made him no friend to most. But his experiments, his inventions, the wild and catastrophic things that he designed and modeled - everything had only ever been on paper. It had always just been games, mere thought experiments between the two of them.

He had been the only person in the world who could stimulate her mind that way. They had understood each other in a way that no one else ever might.

"We also recognize that the threat you present translates directly to talent. So yes, we have our own motivations to ensure your safety, before you ask."

Eden dared to smirk, but there was no pleasure in it. Not even a little. She had never thought... "So, what is it that you all want me to do? You want me to, what, invent for you? Design your next armor penetrating bullet, your next biological weapon maybe? You know my dad was the real brains on those. I won't be that useful without him."

Delilah shrugged - a gesture that rankled Eden's nerves a little because it proved how ready she was to believe Eden's claim to uselessness. "You'll get there," the woman said. "But our priority is to make sure that whoever wants you, doesn't get you. What the authorities never told you, and the reason you were never allowed to set foot in your house again, is because someone ransacked your father's study and laboratory. What do you think they were looking for, Eden?"

She knew the answer. It was the exact reason why her father always destroyed their work after they finished, burned every sheet of formulas and calculations and designs in the fireplace. Insurance so that their games and thought experiments would never turn into anything more than just that. Games.

"Also the reason why we think you were left alive. They want to get into your head to get what they want, but they need you to do it willingly, don't they? Because you're the kind of person who can't have the answers beaten out of them. They need you to want to do it."

Right again, but Eden didn't bother to say so. She had other concerns, after all.

"It could have been you guys," she said loftily. "Maybe this is all an elaborate ploy. You think you'll frighten me with some made-up boogeyman, when you were the ones who -"

"We've got nothing to gain from you," Delilah interrupted. "Weapons development? Please. We have a limitless budget and plenty of resources of our own for that. You're just a drop in the ocean for us, Eden."

She stared, taken aback despite her every attempt to remain cool and dispassionate, to prove she wasn't out of her depth no matter how many bombshells this woman continued to drop on her. But what this woman was saying - it was almost as if she was suggesting that she was -

"I work for the US Department of Defense, Eden. Specifically DARPA. Like I said, your mother worked with us, and your father was a vested interest of several parties, including us as well as the CIA. So no, I'm not your babysitter. I'm here to give you the option of making yourself useful to at least the right people, so that we don't have to put you in a nice suburban hole somewhere where you'll never have the chance to spread your wings. Because we know what would happen if someone isn't there to clip them for you when you overstep, or if the wrong people track you down and finish what they started. But under my supervision, under my direction, you can do what you love to do, while at the same time you can serve your country. It works out."

Eden stared at her. "This is blackmail."

"Are you surprised?"

"No. Just clarifying."

"Oh," said Delilah. "Then yes. But you need to know something."

"Yeah?"

And suddenly, there was an unexpected resignation, a softness that crept briefly into the woman's eyes before it swiftly disappeared. "We're not your enemy. We're here to stop them from getting to you, but also to stop you from making a mistake that will cost you your life. Your mother was a good woman. She did amazing things. Don't throw that away."

"You think I'm going to go and sell revolutionary secrets to rogue nations, get sent to prison, and then get sentenced to execution for treason? That's fair. My other keeper thought I was just going to end up a serial killer."

"You've got it wrong," interrupted Delilah. "We think you're going to kill yourself trying to get back at them. You're your father's daughter, and your mother's. The candle is burning at both ends, and we've prepared enough psych profiles on you to know that that's what you're wanting to do. And to know that you don't even care if you die for it, much less about anyone else who gets in your way."

"Oh?" Psych profiles? Eden was flattered. She hadn't known she could be so interesting. But then again, she was learning now that there was a great deal she hadn't known. About her mother, her father. At least her sister hadn't been a part of any of this.

"That's all. Do whatever you want, and then come down for dinner in an hour. Here's your mobile device that you can use. And yes, before you ask, your activity will be monitored."

Eden caught the tossed phone in her hands and inspected it with a skeptical eye. "So. I behave, I get privileges?"

Delilah gave her a long look. "Just be a good person. That's all I ask. Everything else will work itself out."

"A good person?"

At Eden's expression, the woman's face clouded like a shuttered window, and she shrugged before turning to leave the room.

"Pretending is good enough for us. Don't mess this up, Eden."