Silk

Quinlan St. James gasped as coffee spilled down her dark designer pantsuit. Blinking as the hot liquid cooled, she turned to glare after the hoverboarders who trailed by, laughing rudely at her. Their boards glided noiselessly over the uneven sidewalks of Pierson Park, carrying the spike-haired lads to their next unfortunate victim.

She clutched her newspaper under her arm as she leaned over to pick up the cup and throw it in the trash. Quinlan didn't mind the kids, not really. They were just being young and obnoxious. She should have been watching for them, but her mind was clouded with other things. Brushing the brown droplets off her suit with the back of her hand, she sighed. The suit was stained, but it wasn't like she needed to be anywhere that it would matter.

Giving up on the cleaning, Quinlan headed straight back to the quaint little sidewalk coffee vendor. The man behind the counter wiped his hands on his twenty-first century green apron and automatically handed her another cup. She made a move to reach for her card, but he smiled and waved her away. Quinlan nodded at him and walked over to her customary bench beneath the shade of a tall oak tree.

She took a small sip before setting the cup down. Coffee was better in the old district. They still ground it by hand and brewed it in refurbished coffee machines. Flipping to the science section of the New Pierson City Times, her face fell as she saw her father's cheery expression staring at her. Quietly, she scanned the feature article on him.

This weekend, ten years after his unexplained death, Dr. William St. James, renowned genetic engineer, will be inducted into the Scientific Achievement Hall of Fame. Dr. St. James spent the last two decades of his life fighting the war against genetic diseases ... work that is the foundation of modern genetic study....

Quinlan narrowed her gray-green eyes, refusing to cry about things she could not change. She looked silently up at the bright blue sky. Clouds peeked down from behind the tree limbs and the dark skyscrapers of the oldest section of the city. Nearby, the motor of a 1950 Chevy Fastback revved as it gave tourist rides around the historical section of the park.

Quinlan frowned. The newspaper wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. Sighing, she turned back to the article anyway.

The official induction will be held at the St. James Estate in East Bend this Friday. It is the first time since Dr. St. James' death that the home will be opened to guests. Dr. St. James' daughter, Quinlan St. James, owns the estate, a renovated castle from England.... Miss St. James is often described in the media as a reclusive billionaire. An invitation only cocktail party will follow the official induction, where some of the scientist's papers will be on display for the first time, along with some of his earlier inventions. All items are being donated to the Genetic Science Museum.

Even now caterers and decorators invaded her home. It was the whole reason she'd come into the city. The giant photograph the museum had sent over of her father had been staring down at her for days, bringing up a myriad of emotions she didn't want to feel.

Quinlan's eyes skimmed the rest of the article before carefully folding it up. It didn't even come close to describing the full truth of her father's work the strange late night visitors they'd had while she was growing up, the coded messages he received at all hours. She didn't care. Let the public have their fairy tale version.

Grabbing her coffee, she stood and walked over to the trashcan. William St. James' face stared up at her from the paper she held, smiling in a crooked way she still remembered. She didn't smile back. Hesitating slightly, she threw the article away.