Page 18 of The Prize

“For my East Coast shenanigans, yes.” He broke into a cute smile but it faded when he looked over at the drone. “She tipped yesterday. I’m fixing her so she doesn’t do it again.”

“Great.” Though my brain was actually screaming,I’m never getting in her again so you’re wasting your time!

He moved closer to the drone and rested his palm on her side. “She did her job at least.”

She reminded me of my terror-stricken departure off that high-rise and to be honest I’d be happy to never see her again.

He brushed his palm over her glass door. “I’m running an analysis on the footage she shot. Using face recognition from the images, I should have the names of Burell’s men and their profiles by the end of the day.”

Wilder was more than a renaissance man, he was a remarkable inventor and yet showed none of the traits of socially awkward geniuses. He looked just as comfortable down here with his toys as he did out in the world. I could see how he’d been influenced by those hours he’d spent alone in the outback when his plane had crashed in Australia and afterward when he’d been hidden away by his uncle to protect him. This seemed like the reason he came over as so controlling; he was probably trying to manage his universe to limit his vulnerability to pain. I wondered if he was aware of the reason for this trait. His thoughtful frown returned as he broke my gaze to peer up at his drone.

I sighed in frustration. “Time for that talk.”

“Shall we talk over breakfast?” He gestured to his grubby jeans. “I’ll take a shower.”

“I can handle breakfast.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” He walked past me with his head down and his mind seemingly on something else.

We weaved our way around the long chrome workbenches.

I spotted his small drone sitting on what looked like a charging station. “How did you get Jade here?”

“Different drone. Same AI.” He looked over at her with affection. “She takes seventy-two hours to charge.”

“You have the same AI running through all your gadgets?”

“Yes, same consciousness.”

“Consciousness?”

“You’ll need top-level access before I share any more.” He flashed a heart-stopping smile and continued along between the workbenches. “I have a few ideas that might set you up for such a privilege.”

I rolled my eyes behind his back.

He faced me again. “So what do you think?”

“It’s all very snazzy down here. How often do you visit New York?”

“Once every few months. Though with the new gallery opening I’ve visited more frequently.”

I wondered if any of those visits had included Icon reconnaissance missions. “What are you working on?”

He led me to a glass wall and pointed to his calculations. “So with the success of the air keyboard, I’m working on a drop-down computer screen. It will be projected by voice command. Though that’s top secret right now.”

“Why would you need one of those?”

“Well, for hospitals it would cut down on cross-infection. No hardware means nowhere for bacteria to grow. It’s more for abroad where the mortality rates are higher.”

“That’s incredible.” I was honored to have been let in on his secret project. “How long are you from finishing it?”

“Three years, maybe.”

“Wow.”

“I’m glad you’re here to see it at the beginning stage. Right now it’s just an idea—” He pointed to what looked like a continuous line of algebra on a transparent panel.

“How many people have been in here?”