Reintegration

by Eden S. French

  “Yeah, you are. There’s not been a lot of love in your life. You’ve felt like an outsider among your folks, yeah? Well, we know that outsider feeling too. That’s why we band together. That’s why, when Callie sees Riva upset, she wants to make it better. Because the thing is…”

  Zeke looked Mineko in the eyes. “The thing is, too many people have torn through Callie’s life and left her feeling worthless. So next time you see that she’s happy, don’t ask whether it ought to have been you that made it happen. Just be glad, okay? And trust that she ain’t going to forget you.”

  “Nice speech.” Lexi stalked across the room, silent as a panther, and stood smirking with a finger beside her lips. “Is that beer she’s drinking?”

  “Hey, Lex.” Zeke raised his can to her. “I’m corrupting the kid. Gonna get her on nicotine next.”

  “Corrupting her, you say? I have a few ideas myself.”

  Aware she was blushing, helpless to do anything about it, Mineko shifted her attention to the movie. The hero had managed to leap a building while the robot gunners marveled at his escape.

  “What’s this film?” said Mineko. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Death Droids,” said Zeke. “Actually, Death Droids III, but it’s a prequel. You see that guy in the spandex? Just an hour ago, he turned out to be a different guy we thought was dead.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Face transplant.” Zeke gave a satisfied nod. “By the way, Lex, Riva’s in the garage with Callie. She got a little emotional. There were tears.”

  “Is she okay?” Lexi said. “Did Callie take care of her?”

  “Yeah, it’s a love-in. That’s why we’re here. All that sappy shit made us want to throw the fuck up, right, Min?”

  Mineko didn’t dare look Lexi directly in the face. “Right.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lexi sat on the arm of Mineko’s chair, crossed her long legs and rested her chin in her hands. “So how are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Still smiling, Lexi took the can from Mineko’s hand and drank what was left. “She’s just as cute as I remember.”

  “I was thinking,” said Zeke. “We could fix her up with some new clothes. Get her out of that overall.”

  “Sure. A new wardrobe for the new Minnie. There’s a place down the hall where they keep clothes and things. Outfitting room, Riva said it was.”

  “Yeah? You check it out?”

  “Of course I did. Lots of trench coats. I might borrow one of the black ones, see if it suits me.” Lexi played with a decorative button on Mineko’s shoulder. “How does that sound to you, sweetie?”

  If it meant Lexi would stop bending over her, provoking all kinds of unfamiliar sensations, Mineko would agree to anything. “I’d like that.”

  “We’ll pick out something in red,” said Zeke. “To match your face.”

  Mineko glared at him. “Shut up, Zeke.”

  The devilish smirk returned to Lexi’s lips. “I think she’ll turn out okay.”

  * * *

  The outfitting room’s sole occupant was a revolutionary shaving over a basin. Lexi pointed to the door, and he left, wiping foam from his cheeks.

  “People just do anything you tell them to, don’t they?” Zeke roamed the room, peering into closets and flicking through racks of clothing. “Check out this cool hat.” He took a fedora from a peg and seated it on his head. “Zeke Lukas, Private Eye. Gonna solve some mysteries.”

  Laughing, Lexi opened the doors of a large wardrobe. “Focus. We need to find something that will transform our shut-in into a sex goddess.”

  “I don’t want to be a sex goddess,” said Mineko. “Practical clothes, please.”

  “I’ll meet you halfway.” Lexi pawed through the clothes. There were lots of trench coats, as predicted, but also shirts, blouses, trousers, boots and—novelty of all novelties—a skirt. It was a peculiar thing, an open tube of shiny synthetic leather closed at one side with a zipper.

  Lexi held the skirt aloft. “This is what you need.”

  “I don’t think so. I mean. I don’t know.”

  Zeke examined a label sewn to the skirt. “Nice. A fashion piece.”

  “What do you mean, a fashion piece?”

  “I keep forgetting you were born yesterday. A fashion piece is clothing that’s expensive because some asshole said so. People wear this stuff so that everyone knows they’re King Shit.”

  “Like my jacket.” Lexi tugged at her lapels. “It cost me a fortune, even though you could buy something far sturdier for a handful of cat’s teeth and a bag of bottle caps.”

  It was frustratingly hard to tell when Lexi and Zeke were being serious. “But isn’t everyone out here struggling for survival?” said Mineko. “How can you afford to place a symbolic value on clothing?”

  “Decadence and decay ain’t contradictions,” Zeke said. “In fact, they’re fucking bedfellows.”

  Lexi whistled. “Profound. Kade-worthy, even.”

  Zeke’s lean face sprang into a smile. “That’s a compliment, right?”

  He held out a worn, spike-studded brown jacket. “This’d go well with the skirt. Give her that rough and tumble look, you know, but with an urban edge.”

  “Sounds hot. She’ll need combat boots. And tights.”

  Mineko stroked the jacket’s dark sleeve. Her fingertips bumped over the tiny studs. “Do you think it’s appropriate to take anything we want?”

  “It’s for the purpose of disguise,” said Zeke. “Revolutionary business.”

  Lexi bundled the garments together. “Try these on. It doesn’t look like they have a privacy screen, so we’ll ask Zeke to turn around.”

  Mineko glared. “Both of you will turn around.”

  Exchanging an amused glance, Lexi and Zeke turned. Mineko counted silently to ten—she wouldn’t have put it past Lexi to fake some excuse to spin around and leer at her—before slipping out of her overall.

  Cool air touched her bare, blushing skin. She struggled into the tights, an impossible task until she realized it was easier to begin with them rolled up, and tried to open the skirt. The zipper stopped short. It appeared she had to step inside.

  Well, fine. She could handle that.

  The next piece, however, was impossible: a plain black shirt. It might as well have been a puzzle box. It had no buttons or zippers, just multiple holes and twisty, stretchy fabric that bunched and caught whenever she tried to insert part of herself into it.

  “Lexi, how do I wear a shirt?”

  “Pull it over your head and put your arms through the sleeves.”

  How? How did anyone do that? Mineko studied the holes before trying to shove her head through the largest. The shirt tried to choke her. Wrestling through it, she managed to locate an opening. Far too small. Fabric clung to her face, blinding her. Did she have it back to front? God, was she trapped like this?

  “Do you need a hand, Minnie?” Lexi said.

  “I think it’s backwards. Or inside out. Or I have the wrong opening. Or all of the above.” Mineko tried to retreat from the shirt. No use. It had captured her left arm. “I’m stuck!”

  An external force eased the shirt away, and Mineko found herself face-to-face with Lexi. One eyebrow raised.

  “Don’t look.” Mineko folded her arms over her breasts.

  “I’m not looking.” Without glancing down, Lexi aided Mineko into the shirt and deftly guided her arms through the holes. “There you go.” She held out the jacket. “Add the final touch and then look in the mirror.”

  Mineko obeyed. The jacket added unexpected weight and movement, while the tights beneath her skirt followed the shape of her legs and thighs. Freed from that formless blue fabric, she looked like a different woman. A far stronger one.

  “You look good,” said Zeke. “The skirt suits you.”

  “I don’t care whether it suits me.” Mineko considered herself from a different angle. How thrilling to see her bust outlined
under thin cloth. “What matters is that it’s uncodified.”

  “Oh, yeah. Uncodified as fuck.”

  “Zeke, go tell Callie we’re almost ready,” said Lexi. “I need a word in private with the new girl.”

  If only Mineko hadn’t been looking in the mirror—she wouldn’t have had to endure seeing herself turn red.

  Zeke gave an amiable wave and exited. To make matters worse, Lexi shut the door behind him.

  “You look good.” She circled Mineko, her eyes glittering with a light that seemed too pale to be natural. “You’d fit right in down here, wouldn’t you? A head full of big words and bigger ideas, a massive chip on your shoulder. Comrade Minnie-Min.”

  “I’ve yet to reach a decision about these Open Hand people. But if Kade respects them, I’m inclined to do so as well.”

  “Put all those serious thoughts aside for a moment. When we get to Port Venn, I can see about hooking you up with a cute girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Don’t you dare tease me.”

  The sharp reply seemed to take Lexi by surprise. She shoved her hands into her pockets and pouted, looking like a chastened child. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just playing.”

  “You’re as bad as Lachlan.”

  “Quite possibly. But still, why not let me help you explore your sexuality?”

  All the blood in Mineko’s body seemed to have relocated to her face. “This is no time to proposition me.”

  “Sorry, sweetie, but I wasn’t. You’re a little too complicated for my tastes.”

  It stung. It shouldn’t have, yet it did. And instead of the sullen defiance she wanted, plaintive hurt was the only response Mineko could muster. “You think Codism has damaged me?”

  “I know it. I’ve been inside, remember.” Lexi tapped her temple. “Callie would have you, if you asked her. Please don’t. You’re on track to make a few mistakes, and that girl deserves better than to be a trial run.”

  What could Mineko say to that? She hadn’t even had time to consider these questions herself, and now she was being openly challenged by the one person she could never hope to deceive.

  “Trust me, Min. You don’t know if you want love, sex, or just a chance to rebel against your fucked-up society. You’re a virgin in more ways than one.”

  “You don’t know everything. Since we last met, I’ve kissed a woman.”

  Lexi’s eyebrows jumped. “You move fast, don’t you?”

  “Once I saw what was possible, I had to find out how it applied to me. The truth is, I do have feelings for Callie. I don’t see what right you have to warn me away from her.”

  “No right whatsoever. I’m only looking out for my friends, and that includes you. In Port Venn, you’ll get to experience all kinds of uncodified things. Don’t be angry with me for wanting to set one or two limits. Be excited that the limits are so few.”

  “Who appointed you my guardian?”

  For several seconds, Lexi remained silent, her mouth open. “Oh, God.” She laughed, took Mineko by the shoulders and bent low, bringing their faces level. “I know exactly how you feel right now. There was once a pushy bitch in my own life who refused to let me make decisions. Ash, my cousin. She sure could preach. I resented her, not least because she took the only man I’ve ever loved.”

  “You were in love with a man?”

  “I didn’t know it at the time. I thought…but when I knew, Min, it didn’t change anything. And that shook me. I loved him just as I thought I’d loved her. But it was never her. Not really.”

  There was an urgency in Lexi’s voice that deserved to be respected, but God only knew what she was talking about. “Lexi, I’m confused.”

  “Sorry. I’m just using you to get something off my chest.”

  Lexi brushed Mineko’s bangs aside—her fingertips felt cool as they skimmed over Mineko’s forehead—and smiled. “I’m going to be that pushy bitch for you now. You’ll kick and scream. I did. But I hope you’ll learn to love me for it, even though I’ll fuck up as well.”

  Love. The one thing her parents had given her even as they’d denied her everything else. “I don’t know what you’re saying, yet I feel like I want to believe you.”

  Lexi took Mineko’s hand and kissed it. A warm, comforting sensation. “Trust me, I know how hard it is to believe in anyone. We’re at the same point right now, you and me. We’re facing down futures we never thought we’d let ourselves have. And we’ll do it together.”

  * * *

  The passenger seat was just as Mineko remembered it, right down to the rumpled bag of sweets near the gearstick. Callie snapped on her seatbelt and inserted the key into the ignition. The roar of the engine banished the last of Mineko’s uncertainty. This was really happening.

  Riva occupied the van’s rear seat. Lexi sat nearby on the floor, her eyes closed in pleasure as Riva caressed the back of her neck. Zeke huddled in the corner opposite, a blue light at his lips. The scent of nicotine vapor filled the van, a mild, cloying aroma.

  The garage lamps flashed overhead. A trail of light to the surface.

  Callie touched the dashboard, and the music arrived with a frenetic cascade of drums. She tapped her hands on the wheel while Riva hummed. Daylight flooded the van’s interior, and the tunnel fell away. The shattered architecture of the city took its place.

  They drove through the shadows of splintered towers, navigating streets that carried the last, thin blood of humanity. Mineko pressed her hand to the window as the asphalt blurred. Though this was a spectacle of neglect and decay, it was also a poignant reminder of the enduring past. In time, this would be dust, but not today. Not yet.

  The buildings became sparser, road signs streaked past, and the van plunged down an ancient off-ramp without slowing. They screamed through the dead heart of suburbia: faded paint, scuffed plastic, rusted iron, stripped wires, fallen fences, scorched cement…

  And then Foundation was behind them, and there was only horizon.

  This place takes many things from you, and hope is one of them. Valerie had stared at the stars in the undirected way of the blind. I’ve given up dreaming, Mineko.

  If only Valerie could see what Mineko saw now—a highway to a dream, beneath a sky without end.

  ###

  About Eden S. French

  Eden S. French is an award-winning novelist, a graduate researcher at the University of Tasmania, and nothing but trouble. The only thing she enjoys more than writing about queer cyborgs is the certain fact that, someday, she will become one.

  Despite being some sort of frightening vegan-lesbian-goth person, she has received a Goldie Award and an Alice B. Lavender Certificate, both for her 2015 debut novel The Diplomat. She currently lives in Hobart, Tasmania with her enchanting artist girlfriend, at least one cat, and a sense of foreboding.

  CONNECT WITH EDEN:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/eden.soph

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/edensfrench

  Website: www.edenfrench.com

  Coming from Queer Pack

  www.queer-pack.com

  Queerly Loving

  (Volume 1)

  Edited by G Benson and Astrid Ohletz

  Queer characters getting their happy endings abound in this first book of a two-part collection. Discover pages upon pages of compelling stories about aromantic warriors, trans sorceresses, and modern-day LGBTQA+ quirky characters. Friendship, platonic love, and poly triads are all celebrated.

  Lose yourself in masterfully woven tales wrapped in fantasy and magic, delve into a story that brings the eighties back to life in vibrant color, get lost in space, and celebrate everything queer.

  Get ready for your queer adventure.

  Queerly Loving

  (Volume 2)

  Edited by G Benson and Astrid Ohletz

  In part two of Queerly Loving, our authors bring you short stories with characters across the fantastic queer spectrum, with endings that will leave you warm and smiling. Trans love interests, demisexu
al characters trying to find their way in the world, bisexual characters dealing with a heartbreak in the best way, and lesbians on escapades.

  Dragons roar into life, dystopian futures unfold, mermaids enjoy space voyages, and modern-day adventures will curl your toes and make you cheer. There are first kisses, friends that are like kin, and aromantic characters discovering their place among a queer-normative family.

  Get ready for your queer adventure.

  Reintegration

  © 2017 by Eden S. French

  ISBN (mobi): 978-3-95533-927-2

  ISBN (epub): 978-3-95533-928-9

  Also available as paperback.

  Published by Queer Pack, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.

  Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.

  Owner: Astrid Ohletz

  Am Kirschgarten 2

  65830 Kriftel

  Germany

  www.queer-pack.com

  Second edition: 2017

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Credits

  Editor: Zee Ahmad

  Coverdesign: S. Achilles (Dreamstime/Kts, Depositphotos/mppriv)