Part 21 (2/2)

Twenty-three.

Mireva's long-awaited science fair was held on a warm and beautiful Sat.u.r.day at the Museum of Science and Industry at 57th and Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive. The temperature floated in the upper seventies and a light breeze off Lake Michigan kept the humidity under control; for Chicagoans, it was a perfect day to get out and enjoy their city.

To Brynna, it seemed like half the city had decided to go museum-hopping.

It had been a long time since she'd seen so many people in one place. To begin with, the concept of Mireva being at the science fair at all set her teeth on edge-it was too public, too crowded. On one hand that seemed good, in an overused more-the-merrier sort of way; on the other, there was so much that was out of her control-namely, who, what, where, and when. In short, everything. everything.

On the outside, the museum reminded her of fifth and sixth century Greece, back when she had watched with interest as the humans of that region warred with each other at the same time they built incredible structures like the Parthenon, the Propylaea, and temple after temple to their G.o.ds. The architecture of the museum shared many of the same features-ma.s.sive stonework, statues that were strikingly similar to the lovely caryatids and other sculptured figures created by the masterful Grecian artists, columns topped by Ionic capitals, and acroteria-the elaborately carved figures adorning the corners and tops of pediments.

The inside was another matter. Only the marble floor seemed to go with the magnificent, ancient-looking exterior; everything else had moved on into the era of technology. Banners floated overhead, advertising exhibits that covered everything from airplanes and helicopters, to molecular biology and nuclear power, to the creation of the Earth (if they only knew) and a hundred other subjects. For Brynna, it was a jarring transition. Then again, maybe it was time to leave history behind and get with the present.

The science fair, a heroic undertaking in and of itself, had been set up in a large hall situated at the right center off the main floor. To get to it, Eran and Brynna had to walk through the museum's main hallway and attraction, which for quite some time had been a presentation on Harry Potter. Harry Potter. What little she saw of it in pa.s.sing made her grin with delight and the secret knowledge of how magic really worked. If getting to Mireva and watching over her hadn't been such a high priority, Brynna would have had a wonderful time wandering through the exhibit. What little she saw of it in pa.s.sing made her grin with delight and the secret knowledge of how magic really worked. If getting to Mireva and watching over her hadn't been such a high priority, Brynna would have had a wonderful time wandering through the exhibit.

The Chicago public school system held another science fair every March, but this was a special extension of that one, sponsored by several dozen universities around the country. There were ten prizes in total, the top three being full scholars.h.i.+ps; partials went to second-, third-, and fourth-place categories. The ma.s.sive exhibit hall had been divided by cloth-covered tables into inner and outer rectangles so that the contestants had plenty of room to work and for storage behind their setups. The entrants faced each other across a wide aisle, and the judges, along with family members, other students and the general public, flowed between the two of them. Out of nearly a thousand entries, only 150 projects had been picked to enter this final phase.

Mireva had been a.s.signed a spot in the larger outer rectangle, midway down the room on the north wall. Washed by the blue-white light of countless overhead fluorescents, her lush, healthy plants were an expanse of luxuriant green among the more austere shades of gray and metal. People couldn't help gravitating toward her project; in the midst of all this science, Brynna thought that spoke very strongly to the spiritual attraction between mankind and the most basic, natural things of this world.

”So far, so good,” Eran said. He was keeping pace with Brynna as she walked the aisle between the tables, both of them looking for anything that just wasn't quite right. Brynna doubted that Lahash would show up, at least not in the very crowded exhibition hall, but who knew if he would find another sad and sorry puppet like Klesowitch? The thought made her cringe inside; if he had, neither she nor Eran would have any idea who it was.

”Don't say that,” Brynna said. ”It's like tempting fate.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled although a smile didn't show on his mouth. ”Fate-you believe in that stuff?”

”I do,” she said. ”Fate, destiny-they're one and the same. But neither is completely set. I told you before, there are always choices. One small decision can affect everything.”

”Like chaos theory. The b.u.t.terfly on one side of the world,” Eran said. ”I learned that from Jura.s.sic Park. Jura.s.sic Park.”

”What's that?”

”A movie based on a Michael Crichton book.”

”Ah.” She had no idea who Michael Crichton was, but chaos theory was as good a term as any.

”So how does that apply to Mireva?”

”The same as it applies to anyone,” Brynna answered, watching the crowd with sharp eyes. ”Her destiny is to complete a task preset by G.o.d, but He always gives choices. There's always the chance that a choice made by one person can affect, for good or bad, someone else.”

”Like Klesowitch.”

”Exactly.”

They'd walked the entire hall and were now back at Mireva's table. Mireva was beaming, transformed from a normally self-conscious and studious teenage girl into a young woman totally comfortable with herself and her presentation as she explained the project to a group of adults. Brynna saw Abrienda and Ramiro moving down the tables, content to let the girl s.h.i.+ne on her own. After a minute or so, the adults moved on and Brynna and Eran took their place in front of Mireva's table. Mireva's excited words tumbled over the question Brynna would have asked.

”Isn't it great? The judges have been around twice and I think they're really impressed.” Her smile was ear to ear, her words lilting with excitement. ”I have a really good feeling about this, Brynna. I really do.”

Brynna smiled, but inside she could still feel her nerves jumping over one another. She wanted to believe everything was going to work out, that Mireva was going to be okay and, as they say, life would go on. But there was still that pesky little problem of Mireva completing her task. The tricky thing was knowing whether or not it had had been accomplished. Sometimes these things were so tiny, a matter of being in the right place at the right time to do the most insignificant of deeds, that a nephilim could fulfill his or her destiny and never realize it-the b.u.t.terfly effect that Eran had mentioned. been accomplished. Sometimes these things were so tiny, a matter of being in the right place at the right time to do the most insignificant of deeds, that a nephilim could fulfill his or her destiny and never realize it-the b.u.t.terfly effect that Eran had mentioned.

”Great job, Mireva,” Eran said warmly. ”All that work, and it's finally going to pay off. That's excellent.”

Still smiling, Mireva inhaled deeply, then let out her breath in a long, slow sigh that reminded Brynna of meditating. The girl's next words, however, were like a razor blade running down Brynna's spine. ”I still feel like I've forgotten something,” she said. She scanned her table, the plants, the poster presentations hanging on the easels behind her. ”But I've gone over my checklist a dozen times and I can't find where anything's been left off.”

”Excuse me,” a female voice said from behind Brynna.

Brynna turned, then her eyes widened. The last time she'd seen the blond-haired teenager standing before her was over a month ago, and she hadn't been looking particularly energetic after a go-around with a group of prost.i.tutes in a holding cell. This young woman was clean, pretty, and well dressed; the only evidence of that ugly late-night encounter was a line of faint pink scars along one cheek. They were carefully covered with makeup and would probably fade away in another six months. With all the dirt gone, Brynna could see the girl's Irish heritage in her lightly freckled skin and blue eyes.

”Hi,” the girl said. ”Do you remember me?”

”Of course,” Brynna said. She glanced at Eran, who was looking from the girl to Brynna with a pleased expression on his face. She was puzzled for a moment, then she realized how seldom he probably saw someone who'd been in a jail cell reappear in any environment other than a courtroom. She wasn't sure what was next or what she was expected to say, but the girl took it from there.

”My name's Kodi. I never got a chance to say thank you for helping me that night.”

”Brynna always seems to be helping people,” Mireva put in before Brynna could respond. ”What did she do for you?”

Brynna shot Mireva a glance but Mireva stubbornly refused to look at her. Kodi surprised both Brynna and Eran by answering truthfully. ”I snuck out of the house and went to a party with a bunch of friends. Things got kind of out of control-they were doing X and drinking, and the neighbors called the police. I wasn't into the illegal part, but I freaked out and tried to run away when the cops showed up. Of course I got caught. I'd lost my purse and didn't have any ID, so I didn't have any proof I was underage. When they tried to call my dad, he and my mom had gone out and he'd forgotten his cell phone. I ended up in jail for the night.”

Mireva's expression had gone from inquisitive to alarmed. ”Yikes.”

”Yeah, well, getting thrown in jail was the easy part. Staying Staying in there turned out to be a totally big problem. I got beat up and she-Brynna, right?-stopped things before they got in there turned out to be a totally big problem. I got beat up and she-Brynna, right?-stopped things before they got really really bad.” She sent Brynna a grateful glance. ”I wish I could do something for you in return. My dad said you probably saved my life.” bad.” She sent Brynna a grateful glance. ”I wish I could do something for you in return. My dad said you probably saved my life.”

Brynna shrugged. ”No problem.” She wasn't sure why, but she felt a little embarra.s.sed at being thanked in front of people like this. Stuff like this was supposed to be low key, not public. ”I'm glad you're all right.”

Kodi smiled. ”A cracked rib and some b.u.mps and sc.r.a.pes, but they're all healing.” She touched her scarred cheek. ”I sure won't do something like that again.”

”That's an awesome story,” Mireva put in.

”So what are you doing here?” Eran asked. His timing was perfect in redirecting the conversation before Mireva could dig deeper, and Brynna couldn't help feeling relieved. She didn't think the story of how she'd landed in jail because she was talking to that first nephilim when he was shot in the head was a great subject for conversation.

”My dad is head of the museum's committee on local events. He takes a big interest in the science fairs because he also teaches environmental science at U of I. He was telling me about your project, so I thought I'd come over and take a look.” She grinned and looked again at Brynna. ”So you guys know each other, huh? Small world?”

”He noticed my exhibit?” Mireva's eyes were bright.

Kodi nodded, then gave Mireva a smile that could only be described as secretive. ”Oh, yeah. A lot of people did.”

”Really,” Mireva breathed. ”That's great.” She looked down at her table and its careful arrangement of plants, each with a meticulously lettered placard that corresponded to the complicated ecological plan on the poster-board behind her table. ”I'm gonna run to the restroom for a minute.”

Brynna frowned. ”You all right?”

”Yeah. My stomach's just a little funky-nerves, that's all. It's been building ever since I got the notice that I'd won an exhibition slot here.” She shrugged. ”My own fault for obsessing too much over it. I'll be glad when it's all over.”

”Hey,” Eran said. ”Anyone would. It's a big deal.”

”I'll be right back.” The girl started to slip out from behind the table, but an adult voice made her stop.

”Now's not a good time to leave your exhibit, miss,” said an older man with gla.s.ses. A tag on the lapel of his jacket read Dave N., Science Fair Staff. Dave N., Science Fair Staff. He looked down at a piece of paper on a clipboard. ”Mireva Cocinero, right? You're one of the finalists, and the judges are doing their last walk-through. You really need to be here in case they have any questions.” He looked down at a piece of paper on a clipboard. ”Mireva Cocinero, right? You're one of the finalists, and the judges are doing their last walk-through. You really need to be here in case they have any questions.”

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