Complete Nomad Series (4 Book Box Set) by Matthew Mather

Author:Matthew Mather [Mather, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Matthew Mather ULC
Published: 2020-02-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Sanctuary Europe

This was it.

“Office of Judicial Administration” was stenciled in italicized gold letters beside the door. The mapping app on Jess’s tablet had guided her through the complex of pristine white hallways. The deeper she limped into gleaming catacombs—that smelled like a new car—the more the buzz of human conversation in the front offices died down until just the squeak of her new sneakers accompanied her. Left and then right, and then left and right again.

The glowing dot on her app stopped here.

She pushed open double glass doors—the magnetic lock on them stuck for an instant before releasing—and approached a white block of plastic that emerged smoothly from the wall, cantilevered ten feet out without a floor support at the other end. She assumed this was the reception desk. Beside the desk to her left were four attending chairs in smooth blue leather, with another glass door beside them that led further inside. Offense-less artwork hung on egg-white walls that glowed bright from invisible lights.

“Hello?” It didn’t seem like anyone was here. The office was empty.

Her voice didn’t echo, but was swallowed in the dense silence.

“Hello?” Jess repeated, louder this time, looking around for a camera. “I’m Jessica Rollins. I was asked to come here to see Michel Durand.”

“Miss Rollins, yes. Thank you for coming.” A pleasant-sounding female voice.

Jess glanced behind her, but there was nobody there either.

On the wall behind the desk appeared the image of an Asian woman in a sharp business suit, with her black hair done in a tight bun. “Take a seat. Mr. Durand will see you shortly. May I get you a tea or coffee? Perhaps some water?”

Jess found herself too surprised to answer.

The image of the woman regarded her with patient curiosity. Her smile widened, her eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch as she waited for a response.

“Ah…tea?” Jess stuttered.

“Certainly.” The receptionist-projection waited for Jess to take a seat, then strode along the wall—her image flickered across the gap of the doorway—to stop next to Jess. A recessed panel in the wall slid open, and the receptionist-projection pointed a helpful hand toward it. A cardboard cup of steaming tea waited on a metal grate inside.

Jess took the cup. The panel slid closed.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” said the receptionist-projection, as her image walked to the interior glass door and disappeared.

In here, no one carried a scavenged weapon with murder in their mind for whatever a victim might hold. No scrabbling in the ash for every last crumb of food or something that might create heat. No chance of freezing to death quietly during sleep. Jess took a guilty sip of her tea. Chamomile. Her favorite. She didn’t want to know how they knew—and she didn’t have to wait long before the woman re-appeared.

The interior glass door clicked and opened. “This way,” said the receptionist-projection, re-appearing on the front wall behind the desk.

Jess took another sip from her steaming tea, then followed the woman’s image as it slid along the wall

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