“And you’re willing to exploit the fact—I’d expect nothing less.” The doctor finishes her tea and smooths down her robe until her lap is a neat, silken canvas. “After over a decade of running, I wouldn’t mind the luxury. To go anywhere in style, and after all this I don’t think I’ll stay in Shenzhen.”
Krissana’s stomach sinks. Not that she will remain here either. For better or worse she will have to follow Benzaiten’s work, in exchange for the status xe provides, for the bargaining chips to wield against the Mandate or the Armada both. “Of course. Wonsul should give you enough to buy your own pleasure barge or book passage on the most stunning liner in the universe for the next ten years. I’ll be on his case if he tries to shortchange you. So . . . where will you be heading?”
“Ah, I don’t know. A destination beautiful and remote.” Orfea’s hand seems to wander, drifting like an indecisive bird. It alights, as though incidental, on Krissana’s arm. “I will leave it to chance, that’ll be much more interesting. Besides, I believe somebody owes me at least twelve years of atonement, and I can hardly enjoy that from afar.”
Krissana knits her fingers through Orfea’s, twining around knuckles, brushing her fingertips across the expanse of Orfea’s palm. “You mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” The doctor bends close, tilting Krissana’s chin up with her thumb. “To see the universe without fear, and to do it in the company of a beautiful woman who has a tremendous debt to me. Who has said she is mine, body and soul. I can’t say that has no appeal. What do you think?”
Their hands rest secure in each other’s: somehow that has happened without either of them noticing. The distance bridged. The wasteland crossed.
“I think,” Krissana says, laughing and bringing Orfea’s palm to her mouth, “that yours is not an offer I can refuse, if I want to ever see this debt repaid. Shall we get started?”
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my editor Sean Wallace, for his patience and for ensuring that this book would have a title far more evocative than it originally was going to: proof that editorial input can be worth a lot more than its weight in gold.
Further appreciation goes to J. Moufawad-Paul, who offered invaluable help with the manuscript; to Joseph Tomaras, who’s responsible for Orfea’s name; to Eff and Sasha, for their endless forbearance and letting me bounce ideas off them as this book underwent (what felt like) infinite drafts. This story would have been in much poorer shape without all their help.
And to my readers, for having made this book possible.
About the Author
Benjanun Sriduangkaew writes love letters to strange cities, beautiful bugs, and the future. She has lived in Thailand, Indonesia, and Hong Kong. Her short fiction has appeared on Tor.com, in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Clarkesworld, and year’s best collections. She has been shortlisted for the Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and her debut novella Scale-Bright was nominated for the British SF Association Award. She can be found blogging at beekian.wordpress.com or on twitter at @benjanun_s
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