Reintegration

by Eden S. French

  “Never been in a subway, huh,” said Lexi.

  “We have a transit system of our own. It connects all the enclaves.” Mineko marveled at her spray-painted surroundings. “But nobody’s allowed to draw on the walls.”

  They arrived at the first subway platform. Wind hissed through the open tunnel, and droplets plinked from the ceiling onto the rails. A few people were waiting for the train, among them a leather clad trio—a lanky guy, a tall girl covered in scars, and a haggard, wild-haired woman. They loitered with the self-satisfied swagger of gangsters.

  “Stay near me,” said Lexi, and Mineko shuffled closer to her side.

  The sound of her voice must have carried, as the haggard woman looked their way. “Hey!” she said. “Check out the queer!” She strutted toward them, and her companions trailed with less enthusiasm.

  It took much more than this to intimidate Lexi. “Hi,” she said. “Go ahead and admire me, but no touching.”

  “That’s an ugly fucking haircut.” The gangster’s own straggly hair looked as if animals had died in it, but it probably wasn’t wise to say so. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at here. You a dyke or a faggot?”

  “Are those my only choices?”

  “Don’t be a fucking smartass. You got a dick down there or not?”

  Lexi summoned her most sultry smirk. “Treat me to dinner and maybe you’ll find out.”

  “I told you not to be a smartass.” The gangster sneered at Mineko. “And what about the shut-in? You this queer’s little sex toy?”

  Well, that escalated things. Lexi moved in front of Mineko. “Leave her out of this.”

  “The shut-in bitch should know better than to come outside. I suppose she wants to fuck you so bad, she can’t help herself.”

  “C’mon, drop it,” said the lanky gangster. “I just wanna go home.”

  “We’re waiting for the train, aren’t we? Plenty of time to mess with this…this whatever-the-fuck-it-is.”

  Lexi stared into the woman’s glassy eyes. The contents of her mind poured over Lexi like oil, slippery and tacky. Emotions flaring and fading in seconds, thoughts arguing, a cracked temper reigning supreme. Lexi grasped a memory: waking in the dark, head throbbing, a moment of clarity. I need to stop doing this shit. Groping in the dark, wanting water. Touching a rat. Feeling its hair and gristly tail. Screaming. Rats. She hated rats.

  Time to fuck this woman up. “You don’t want to catch this train,” Lexi said.

  The gangster sneered, exposing damaged teeth, but confusion rose to join her anger. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let me tell you about the last time I caught this train.” As Lexi spoke, she kept a grip on that fragmented mind. “I sat at the back next to this real quiet guy. Halfway through the trip, I heard this sound like meat ripping. I looked across, and his chest was moving. All these lumps, pushing up his skin, moving in different directions.”

  She magnified the images that had emerged into the bitch’s brain: naked tails, glittering eyes, the fear of being bitten, rabies, fat bodies swarming over her as she slept. “Then his chest burst open. He was dead, he’d been dead all that time, full of rats. They ran all over the train car, they ran all over everyone…”

  “Bullshit,” said the scarred member of the trio. Lexi’s target, however, had taken a trembling step back.

  “This whole subway is filled with the fuckers. You can’t turn and not catch one watching you, can’t put your hand out without something hissing and taking a bite.” Lexi gave a final push, intensifying the woman’s panic and disgust. “Someday you’ll be waiting for a train, and the tunnel will flood with rats. They’ll wash over you screeching and tearing—”

  “We gotta get out of here! We gotta fucking go!” The gangster was hyperventilating, her rapid breaths accompanied by a wild twitching in her face. “We gotta go, we gotta go!”

  With another shriek, she hurtled toward the entrance, followed by her shouting friends. None of the other waiting passengers had even looked up—why get involved, just another druggie, right?

  Lexi gave Mineko an apologetic smile. The kid was still staring in the direction the gangsters had fled.

  “You used Project Sky on her,” Mineko said. “Why rats?”

  “She had a fear of them, so I took it and made it worse. A lot worse.”

  A distant hum gained volume as a pair of lights illuminated the tunnel. The train hissed to a halt beside the platform, and Lexi and Mineko boarded the first car.

  Most of the seats were rotted down to their frames, and the intact ones were covered in a mysterious residue. Fortunately, there were handles on the ceiling, only a few of which were repulsively sticky. The train accelerated, and Mineko shifted to avoid a rolling beer can.

  “I guess your trains are nicer than this,” said Lexi, swaying as the train took a rapid corner.

  “Considerably.” The windows rattled. “Does anyone maintain these?”

  “Best not to wonder.” The train gained speed, setting its windows shuddering even more violently. “If you’re scared, you can hold my hand.”

  Mineko watched the white panels flickering hypnotically on the tunnel walls. “Thank you for offering.”

  Lexi smiled. What a funny kid.

  * * *

  Narrow chimneys topped by black plumes of smoke filled the skyline. Mineko wrinkled her nose. “Those can’t be healthy.”

  “You think?” Lexi kicked a cardboard box rude enough to be in her path, and it landed in the middle of the street. The road markings had faded, making the potholed lanes indistinct, but it hardly mattered: the only vehicles that made any use of the western highway were the shut-in trucks sent to collect the bounty of the factories.

  “Zeke said that Callie is angry with you. Do you mind if I ask why?”

  Lexi sent a second piece of debris flying. It landed in a pothole. Let the kid think she’d done that on purpose. “Callie’s just riled up over nothing.”

  “How long has she been riled for?”

  “Uh…three years, I guess.” Lexi shoved her hands into her pockets and picked up her pace. Easier not to think about that incident, at least not until she had no other choice. “She’s a loner. A little strange.”

  They passed a construction yard busy with activity. In the shadow of an immense shed, sparks flashed from welding torches while workers carried steel beams toward a scaffold, constructing the skeleton of something as yet undeterminable. A group of people were sharing their lunch behind the fence. Several gaunt children sat with them, squabbling over scraps. Mineko gawked at them with obvious dismay.

  Bad as it all looked, it smelled worse, and Lexi tried to breathe as little as she could. The shut-ins sometimes distributed medicines to the factory workers, but most of the drugs ended up on the black market. When that happened, gangs sold them right back to the sick workers who needed them. One of those social ironies and not a very funny one.

  Callie’s place was at the end of a ribbon of pavement that snaked around the edge of an abandoned factory lot. A junkyard behind a mesh fence neighbored the garage that doubled as Callie’s home and workshop. Lexi strode across the cracked pavement—straggly weeds had pushed their way through it, not realizing the air up here was even worse—and toward the open garage door. Mineko trotted in expectant pursuit.

  Inside, the garage was a mess of benches, tools, and scrap. The scent of rust and oil lingered in the air. Callie’s van was parked amid the disarray, its white surface streaked with grime. Callie herself stood at a workbench, a tool in hand. She set it down and gave Lexi a mistrustful look.

  In the intervening years, it seemed she had gained a little weight, but not enough to lose her athletic appearance. She had full hips and a curvy ass—captivating under a tiny pair of khaki shorts—but her waist was trim, and her arms and legs toned. Her black tank offered little coverage, and her tanned skin was streaked with grease. Another oily dab marked one of her round cheeks. Typical Callie.

  “Lexi?�
� Callie brushed aside her auburn hair, which provided an untidy frame for her heart-shaped face. One look into her expressive eyes—her prettiest feature: lustrous brown irises accentuated by dark lashes—made clear nothing had been forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sorry.” Lexi resisted the urge to slink away. “I know you’re probably not thrilled to see me.”

  “Understatement.” Callie’s attention shifted to a point behind Lexi’s shoulder, and her lips parted in a shy smile. “Hey.”

  “Hello,” said Mineko. “I’m sorry we interrupted your work.”

  “It’s okay. I can work and talk at the same time.” Callie took a wedge-shaped tool and set to prying at some stupid gadget. “Come in.”

  Lexi slouched into the garage—the last thing she needed right now was a guilt trip. Mineko strode past, staring at everything around her.

  “What are you working on?” she said.

  “An auto part I scrounged up. It’s broken, but I’m hoping I can fix it.”

  “May I watch? I’ve never seen anyone fix an auto part.”

  Callie’s smile widened, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. “Sure.” She levered the top of the gadget away, lifting a trailing set of wires with it. “It’s a converter. It makes energy use more efficient.”

  “Does your van run on electricity, then?”

  “Yup. I used to have a gas-powered one, but there’s nothing left to fuel those but vapor.” Callie pointed into the device. “You see this?”

  Mineko leaned forward, fascinated. “Oh, it’s melted.”

  “Right. Acid damage, maybe. I was hoping it’d just be a loose wire.”

  “Can you fix it? Or is it too melted?”

  Callie laughed—not a sound Lexi had expected to hear today—and shook her head. “Any melted is too melted.”

  After several more seconds of close inspection, Mineko looked up, her face bright. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You must be very clever to work with this old technology.”

  An attractive shade of pink suffused Callie’s face, and Lexi grinned. A few more appreciative remarks like that, and Mineko would have a friend for life. An insecure, clingy friend who played with scrap metal and never seemed to wash her hands.

  “It’s not so hard.” Callie glanced at Mineko’s uniform. “Are you a student?”

  “Yes. My name’s Mineko.”

  “I’m Callie, though I guess you already knew that.” Callie gave Lexi an uncertain look. “I’m not going to lie, I’m kinda confused.”

  “The Codists are tracking down people connected to Lexi’s implant. I’m afraid you may be in danger.”

  Callie put a hand on her hip, a cocky little adventuress. “That’s okay. I’m used to danger.”

  “Not danger like this. Trust me. My father is the head of Code Intel.”

  Callie stared open-mouthed at Lexi, who nodded. “They raided my apartment last night,” Lexi said. “It’s serious.”

  “May I ask where you found it?” said Mineko. “The implant?”

  “The shut-ins keep vaults in the desert,” said Callie. “Whenever I stumble onto one, I break the electronic locks and take a look. A few years ago, I found a few chips in a box marked Project Sky. I’d heard old smugglers talking about it, so I knew what they were. Suicide chips.”

  “Do you know their purpose?”

  “The story is they’ll make you live forever if you can survive the implant. Which is probably bullshit, but people chance it. The thought of selling them made me sick to my guts. I considered leaving them there, but I needed the cash, so I took one, just one, and sold it to Zeke. I guess I should have left that one too.”

  “Focus on the present,” said Lexi. “You’re always stealing from the shut-ins. You must have experience getting them off your back.”

  Callie frowned at her grease-stained palms. “You and me need to sort something out first. Can we go outside?”

  Lexi laughed. “Are you challenging me to a fight?”

  “I’m serious. Mineko, we won’t be long. You can look around if you like, but be careful. Some of this stuff is sharp.”

  Lexi followed Callie out of the garage and over a stretch of dry, hard dirt. Behind the junkyard fence, ungainly piles of scrap glittered under the midday light. Callie linked her fingers through the mesh and stared into the distance.

  “So, did you bring me out here to show me your junk?” said Lexi.

  “You know what this is about. You fucked up my life.”

  Lexi scoured her soul. Nope. Sympathy not found. “Yeah, well, fucking is what I’m best at.”

  Callie slumped against the fence. “You aren’t even a bit sorry, are you?”

  “I don’t give a shit. I tried, okay? I looked deep within my soul for shits, but there were none. No shits to give.” Lexi sighed. “You take everything too personally. It wasn’t as if I went after her. She came to me.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  God, this melodramatic fucking kid. “You’re the one who seems to want to talk about it.”

  Clouds drifted above, slow and tinged with pollution. In the distance, a dog bayed. Lexi waited. They’d never really been good friends, and while that was mostly Lexi’s fault—Callie was the emotional type, and Lexi kept those at a distance—it made her easier to shut out now.

  Callie gazed at the sky. “Mineko seems really nice.”

  “Sure. She’s a good kid.”

  “Don’t call her a kid. It’s patronizing. If she’s at the University, it means she’s at least nineteen.”

  “Right. A kid. Like you.” Lexi laughed as Callie grew even more sullen. Still too easy to tease. “Don’t take it personally. I was a kid once too.”

  “You’re only thirty, for fuck’s sake.” Callie gnawed at her thumbnail while frowning at the clouds. “I guess we could drive to one of the old bunkers out west. Take a bit of tinned food, stay under for a little while. You and Zeke will be bouncing off the walls after an hour, but it beats getting wiped, doesn’t it?”

  Buried underground with two ex-friends, eating century-old food from a tin and creeping out into the desert to take a piss? Why, it sounded like paradise. “Let’s call that Plan B and keep thinking up a Plan A.”

  “If you say so. Do you think Mineko’s going to get into trouble for this?”

  Lexi shrugged. “She doesn’t seem to care much about that. It’s been fun dragging her around. She looks at everything like it’s just fallen from the sky.”

  “You have any idea why she’s helping us?”

  “Says she doesn’t believe their bullshit anymore. Thinks she’s fucked if they get this chip working and they use it on her.”

  “Makes sense.” Callie pushed back from the fence. “Let’s go. I don’t want her to step on something and get tetanus.”

  They found Mineko contemplating a rack of tools. “What’s caught your eye?” said Callie. Too cool to care, Lexi lounged against a workbench.

  “This old baton.” Mineko tapped a long steel stick. “Is it for self-defense?”

  “I use it to break windows, that’s all. I pack something a little more serious for protection.” Callie retrieved an ugly single-barreled shotgun from under a workbench. “And there’s a pistol in the glovebox.”

  “Oh.” Mineko took a nervous step back.

  Lexi snickered—the kid looked like a frightened animal—but Callie gave a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t point it anywhere near you.” She returned the shotgun to its hiding place. “Would you like a drink? You must have walked a while to get here.”

  “Sure,” said Lexi. “I’ll have a rum and—”

  “Not you.” Callie opened a bar fridge and searched through its glowing interior. “What do you like, Mineko? Carbonated juice? This one says raspberry, so it’s probably water, red dye, and a bunch of chemicals.” She showed the bottle to Mineko. “You might recognize the brand. I nabbed a crate from a shut-in truck.”

  “Yes! I love this!” Mineko poppe
d the lid. “Would you like the first taste?”

  “Sure.” Callie sipped the drink before handing it back to Mineko. “Fizzy.”

  Mineko beamed. It was surprisingly touching to see that serious face so transformed. “And you have a whole crate of these?”

  “Sure do. Drink until you pop.”

  Mineko took a sip while Callie watched her with a thoughtful smile. “May I ask how long you’ve been a smuggler?” Mineko said.

  “Since I was thirteen. Eleven years. How long you been a student?”

  “Three years. I’m twenty-two.” Mineko passed the bottle to Callie, who swigged from it. “Do you really not want to give Lexi a drink?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” said Lexi. “I came out here specifically to die of thirst.”

  Incredibly, Callie laughed. “Okay. If she helps me pack the van, I’ll let her have a drink.”

  Mineko nodded. “I’m glad. By the way, what’s this here?” She indicated a jumble of little widgets scattered on a bench. “I couldn’t figure it out.”

  “Oh, that’s an old pocket watch. I took it apart to see how it worked.”

  “Will it tell time again if you put it back together?”

  Enthusiasm lit Callie’s round face. “If I do it right. Want to see? It should only take a few minutes.”

  “Uh,” said Lexi. “Do we really have time for this? No pun intended.”

  Mineko shot her a reproachful look. “She did say it would only take a few minutes. I’d like to see the watch.”

  “And you will!” Callie took a pair of tweezers from the workbench. “Now, this bit here is the main plate…”

  As the kids huddled together, Lexi stared out at the wasteland of cement, steel, and stacks. It was no surprise Callie was weird: living out here with nobody for company but hungry dogs, sleeping to the distant rumble of machinery, waking to an oppressive horizon always vomiting smoke.

  Three years. It was a long time to hold a grudge, maybe, but Lexi was in no position to talk. She watched the chimneys, her gaze unfocusing, until she could scarcely distinguish between the smog and the sky.