Varik has caught a mysterious masked thief in his father's underwater vault and hauls him to the the surface to interrogate:
We enter my place. My father’s
meditation room has one tiny porthole only a water rat could squeeze through.
It has dense walls, and a two-way video-page. No precious files in there that
would be in jeopardy, so it’s the perfect padded cell. The thief suddenly
wheels around to land a clumsy punch, but I veer out of harm’s way and push him
ahead of me through the den into my dad’s think tank. Once inside, I struggle
to triple-tie the cable binding his hands in front of him to one of the solid
columns as he again tries to kick me. I yank off the sludge-dump’s mask.
And gasp.
Long, red hair cascades down.
Pearly skin, heart-shaped lips pursed. Fry me in the Hotzone if it’s not a live
girl close to my age. Her sapphire-blue eyes gleam with hate.
I step forward, but not close
enough for her to tackle me. “What were you doing down there?”
Her ensuing hiss sounds like
a water snake poised to attack.
I toss her mask on the floor.
“I asked you a question.” No answer. “You’ll stay tied up like this for weeks
then.”
She laughs. Kicks the mask I
dropped.
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