“Bah.” He rolled his head to the right, dodging eye contact. “Won’t do any good. ’Sides, they’d get me at the gate an’ then you’d be on your own.”
Maya fidgeted. She’s pretty much already on her own.
“I’ll make you some soup.” Sarah dropped the towel in his lap, pushed off the chair, and headed to the kitchen.
The Dad raised the metal hand as if to protest but let it drop without saying a word.
After a few awkward seconds, Maya offered a cheesy smile and padded through the archway after her. Sarah’s back end stuck out of a low cabinet by the sink, inside which kitchenware clattered. Soon, she extricated herself holding a medium-sized pot with a wooden handle. She stood, set it on the e-stove, and grasped a plain white can labeled ‘beef soup.’
Maya sat at the table.
“This won’t take long,” muttered Sarah as she dumped soup into the pot. “We can play another round if you want.”
“Okay.” Maya swished her feet back and forth.
The Dad looked like the actor from the Davomex-EN ad. Cured of lung cancer after a two-week regimen of ‘easy to use auto-injectors you can administer from the comfort of your own home.’ Maybe that guy wasn’t an actor? Sometimes Vanessa’s medicines work. She again glanced over at Sarah, who stirred at the soup. Ascendant probably made some astoundingly expensive treatment that could fix whatever he had. It didn’t seem right to tell Sarah ‘well, all he needs to do is get blah and he’ll be fine.’ Davomex-EN if cancer, Alveo-4 if asthma, Vitaboost to get rid of his fatigue, and maybe some Myomega to get his soldier’s physique back in a few weeks of pill-taking. Her voice chattered away in the back of her mind, scraps of lines she’d had to memorize for ads.
Sarah abruptly fast-walked out, startling Maya into wondering if she’d somehow eavesdropped on her thinking and got upset.
A moment later, she came back down the hall carrying an olive-drab blanket, which she tucked around The Dad, trying to make him comfortable. He murmured at her while smiling. She whispered, and he shook his head. Sarah bounced on her toes, whispering again with a hint of pleading whine.
“Mmm… think about it.” He let his head go back and closed his eyes.
He’s getting sick fast. Maya bit her lip. When Mom’s home, I’ll ask her to drag his butt to the VA.
Sarah plodded back to the stove and resumed stirring the soup. For a few minutes, the apartment hung in deathly silence save for the soft scrape of a plastic spoon on aluminum. A sniffle escaped, and she lost the battle to keep from crying. Still warming the soup for her father, Sarah leaned against the stove and wept as quietly as possible.
“Hey.” Maya slid from the chair and moved over. “He’s gonna be okay.”
“No he’s not,” mumbled Sarah. “He won’t listen. Doc’s already done as much as he can do here. He said Dad needs to go to the VA in the Sanc, and he won’t. Dad says he’s just tired, but it’s more than that.”
Maya put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I think he’s got lung cancer, or something like that. There’s a bunch of meds that can fix that. One of the ads, the man looked worse than your father does and he got better in a couple days. He’s a vet, so the Authority will pay for it.”
“He got exposed to something during the war. When I was little, he told me he’d get sick someday. Dad knew I’d still be a kid when he…” She let go of the spoon, bracing her hands on the stove.
“He’s not gonna die.” Maya hugged her tight. “There’s treatments they have now that no one expected would be around when the war ended.”
“I know.” Sarah sank to her knees and sobbed into her hands.
Maya looked back and forth between her friend and the living room, feeling helpless. Everything she tried to say only made Sarah more upset. She dropped to kneel beside her and held on. “Sorry. I don’t know how to be comforting. My babysitter was an AI. Please stop crying. I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
“It’s not that.” Sarah sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her arm. She fixed Maya with a stare that hurt like a knife to the heart. It took her a moment to find the voice to whisper, “I think he wants to die.”
Maya grasped her friend’s hands and gave her the stern look of a parent laying down the law. Anger that The Dad could put his daughter through such pain when he didn’t have to pushed aside her insecurity. “As soon as Mom is back, I’m going to make her drag him to the VA. Try going in there and telling him not to retreat. What kind of soldier abandons his daughter? You’re only eleven. He can’t stand down yet.”
“Okay.” Sarah nodded, wiping her face. “Okay….”
The soup burbled and popped.
“Oh!” Sarah jumped up and got the spoon moving again. “I hope it didn’t burn.”
Maya sniffed. “Doesn’t smell like it.”
“Dad doesn’t trust the VA doctors. He thinks they’ll ‘do something to his brain’ and make him into someone else.”
“A lot of soldiers have mental issues. He’s seen some bad things.”
Sarah glanced at her, sighed, and hung her head. “He’s not that nuts. He just doesn’t want to tell me that he thinks they’ll take me away from him.”
“Maybe before the war. There’s not enough government left to do that anymore.” Maya smirked. “I tried. Called and emailed everyone I could think of to report Vanessa for neglecting me, but nothing ever happened.”
“Duh.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That woman owns the Authority too. No way would they dare.” She stood on tiptoe to grab a bowl from a cabinet over the shelf and transferred the soup into it.
Maya furrowed her brow. “I never even thought of that.”
“Just a thought. I dunno for sure.” Sarah turned off the stove before carrying the soup to the living room.
The Dad grumbled but begrudgingly tolerated her sitting next to him on the sofa and feeding him. Maya hovered at the archway between kitchen and living room, watching. Seeing a girl Sarah’s age mother her own father awakened a malignant sense of jealousy that her friend had such a deep emotional bond to her parent. She couldn’t blame Sarah for how her life had been any more than she could blame herself for Ascendant poisoning people with Fade. Rather than dwell on being jealous of her friend, she let the sight of them intensify her need to have her mom home.
Maya daydreamed about clinging to Genna, savoring every minute they were given together. A momentary pang of doubt as to whether her motherly feelings toward Maya went as deep as Sarah’s and her father’s evaporated when she remembered what the woman looked like after fighting Moth. Had Genna not cared, she would’ve run before subjecting herself to that monster.
“I got it. I got it,” muttered The Dad. “You g’won eat your own dinner. Yer too skinny.”
Sarah squealed into a giggle as he tickled her side.
He took the bowl in his metal right hand and continued tickling at her with his living one until she scampered off to the kitchen, laughing. At the archway, she stopped to catch her breath and collected her hair out of her face.
Maya grinned.
“Want soup? Or I think there’s some quick-mac left.” Sarah crossed the kitchen to the cabinets. “Might even have some tuna blast too.”
“Tuna blast?” Maya raised an eyebrow. “Orange label? With like, umm, a cat on it?”
“Yeah.” Sarah nodded. “They’re single-serving casseroles.”
Maya pushed off the wall she leaned on and walked up behind her. “That’s cat food.”
“Cat food?” Sarah gave her a quizzical look.
“Yeah. Food for cats. People aren’t supposed to eat it.”
Sarah smiled. “That’s silly. Stop teasing me.”
“In the Sanctuary Zones, there’s different food meant for pets. It’s not as high quality as people food.”
In a feat that seemed previously impossible, Sarah became paler. “You’re not kidding? But… Foz sells it as tuna casseroles.” She grimaced. “I kinda like it.”
“Foz.”
Maya frowned. “He probably buys it in the Sanc and sells it out here for three times the price. I don’t think it’s dangerous, just eww.” She grinned. “Got any cheese sandwiches left?”
Sarah’s mood slam-shifted to laughing again. “Two whole cabinets full of them.”
“We could have those if you want.”
“’Kay.” Sarah opened a door below the counter all the way on the left and pulled out a brown plastiboard box. She opened it and claimed four packets before shoving the box back in and nudging the cabinet closed with her foot. “Guess you like these things too?”
“They’re okay, and you don’t have to cook them.”
“Oi, girl. Grab me a brew, what?” called The Dad.
Sarah smiled and handed Maya the sandwiches. “Wanna play another round? We can eat in there.”
Sarah retrieved a beer from the fridge and carried it over to The Dad. Maya headed into the hall toward the bedroom, marveling at the dense white squares inside clear plastic pouches that bore more resemblance to bathroom tiles than sandwiches.
A pssht and crack came from behind her as a beer can opened.
“Thanks, luv. An’ yer friend gotta point. Ain’t time fer me ta stand down yet.”
Sarah squeaked.
Eep! Maya halted, clinging to the sandwiches. He heard us?
“F’ya want me ta, I’ll see what them mind-thievin’ fools in white coats have ta say.”
Sarah burst into tears, saying, “Yes, Dad” over and over.
Feeling conspicuous, Maya continued to the bedroom. She dropped the sandwiches on the rug and gathered all the cards into a dozen stacks small enough to shuffle. A few minutes later, Sarah bounced in, red-eyed but smiling.
“He’s gonna go to the VA!” She flopped to sit and grabbed two piles, which she shuffled.
“That’s great! Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. If Zoe will watch you. He doesn’t wanna drag you to the Sanc in case there’s… issues. I think he’d rather wait for Genna to come back.” Her expression lit up with happiness. “He’s gonna go!”
They spent a little while shuffling, restacking, and reshuffling their decks. Eventually, they each drew a starting hand. Maya examined her cards, put them down, and grabbed a sandwich packet. She looked it over but didn’t do anything until Sarah picked one up. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her friend squeeze the small capsule along one edge until it broke. Some chemical agent inside caused the white parts of the tile to inflate like a sponge, becoming bread.
Maya broke the ampule in her packet and waited until her sandwich stopped growing. The expansion stretched the plastic, designed to unfold and make a pull-strip available once it had reached full size. As soon as she tore it open, the bedroom filled with the smell of fresh-baked bread. Or at least some chemist’s idea of what fresh-baked bread shoved straight up someone’s nose smelled like.
Still, the sandwiches proved oddly tasty. Maya had grown fond of the sponginess in the bread, even if the cheese didn’t have much flavor. Their next game was cutthroat; Sarah tried not to let her summon any creatures, and Maya returned the favor. They picked at each other’s health pools little by little for the better part of an hour. Maya had three life dots left, Sarah four. Either one of them could lose to one lucky draw.
Maya stared over her cards, trying her best old gunslinger squint.
Sarah narrowed her eyes, though her lips couldn’t quite stay straight. A hint of smile kept creeping in at the corners.
Shuffling in the hallway preceded the rather loud sound of The Dad pissing.
Maya giggled, biting her arm in an effort to keep quiet.
“He never shuts the door,” whispered Sarah, her face almost as red as her hair.
Snickering, Maya pulled her next draw and got a four-point creature. She played it. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Ooh.” Sarah play-scowled. “You think I’m gonna let you do that? Counterspell!” She waved a blue card at her. “Spell failed.”
Maya growled at the ceiling but couldn’t stop grinning as she moved the monster to the trash pile.
“That’s not embarrassing. One night, he had so many beers, he walked right in when I was taking a bath. Didn’t even notice me.”
Maya gasped. “He didn’t!”
“Sure did,” yelled The Dad. “Pooped too. Stank so damn bad it drove her clean outta the bathroom covered in suds.”
Maya shifted her eyes toward the door.
Sarah covered her mouth and nose with both hands. “I can still smell that.”
A flush echoed in the hall.
“He can hear us,” whispered Maya. “He probably heard everything we said in the kitchen.”
“Yeah. He’s trained as a scout. And he’s paranoid.” She pulled a card, rolled her eyes, and played another land.
“I’m not paranoid,” said The Dad, hovering in the doorway. “I’m observant and vigilant. ’Mon, you two. Bed time.”
“’Kay.” Sarah put her cards down.
After hitting the bathroom, Maya rummaged one of Genna’s T-shirts she’d been using for a nightgown out of the plastic bag she’d brought for her extended sleepover. She slipped her shirt off, tossed it down next to the bag, and pulled the huge T-shirt on, which draped down past her knees. Sarah returned from her trip to the toilet as Maya shoved her black fatigue pants down and stepped out of them.
Sarah hopped into bed and crawled against the wall.
“You’re going to sleep in that?” asked Maya.
“This is all I have. When it’s warm, I don’t wear anything to bed, but it’s kinda weird to do that with a friend sleepin’ over.”
“Don’t you have a nightdress?”
Sarah looked down, ashamed. “No.”
“The Dad should buy you some clothes instead of so much beer,” whispered Maya.
“He needs it. It’s okay.”
Maya climbed onto the bed, crawling over until she stopped nose-to-nose with her. “No, that’s not cool. You’re always taking care of him like a nurse or something. He should provide for you.”
“I don’t mind, really.” Sarah broke eye contact, fidgeting at her hair. “We don’t have a lot of money. He’s on a military pension.”
“Cheese sandwiches.” Maya smiled.
“Heh.” Sarah looked back up, grinning. “Yeah. Too many cheese sandwiches.”
Maya rolled onto her back and settled into the mattress, staring at the ceiling. “I’m going to use some of my scav money and get you a nightdress.”
“I can buy one myself. I got scav money too.” Sarah poked her in the side.
“But it won’t be a present then.” She smiled. “I wanna give someone a present. When’s your birthday?”
“I dunno. Sometime in April.”
“You don’t know the day?” Maya rolled her head to the right and gawked at her.
“No, but Dad always does something corny the first week, so it’s probably like the first to sixth or something.”
Maya gave her a raspberry.
“What?”
“I’ll be ten before you turn twelve. My birthday’s in November. The fourth. I hatched in 2084.”
“Hatched?” Sarah’s eyebrows drew together.
Maya pushed aside the wave of anger that tried to rise. “Vanessa had a doctor grow me in a tank because she didn’t want to lose time from work having me and then taking care of a baby. I don’t remember it, but I found emails on her computer. She only took me home after I didn’t need diapers anymore.”
“That’s so sad.” Sarah held her hand. “Sorry.”
Maya looked up at the ceiling again. “I don’t miss her. She’s a horrible person, and my real mom is going to make sure she can’t hurt anyone else.”
The Dad coughed a few times, but quieted, and the low murmur of football resumed. He even made an effort to reduce his streams of obscenities whenever the game went against his team to a low murmur.
“You really don’t miss that place?”
“No
. It was like jail. I never even saw other kids. Never had any friends.” She squeezed Sarah’s hand. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“Me too.” Sarah stretched and yawned. “We should probably stop talking before Dad gets mad and yells.”
“Okay.”
“Night.”
Maya closed her eyes and squirmed in an effort to get more comfortable. “Night.”
7
A Night Disquiet
Worry that something would happen to Genna circled Maya’s head. Fear wet the corners of her eyes, brought a lump to her throat, and kept sleep at arm’s length. Sarah seemed to drift off fast, but soon stirred and rolled toward her, reaching one arm across her chest. Whether she wanted to be protective or seek comfort, Maya couldn’t tell. This new world she had chosen to live in offered far greater warmth and happiness, but also insecurity―a world that Sarah had always known.
It came as no surprise the girl could zonk out so fast, accustomed to the idea that anything could happen in the Habitation District, and the Authority might care. Her friend would probably never trust the Authority after the way they’d treated them here. The time the blueberries had come looking for Maya and left everyone zip-tied to fend for themselves had been something like the eighth time Sarah’d gone through that, but fortunately, only the first time they’d hit her.
Maya tapped her foot on nothing under the sheet, trying to understand how the same blueberries who’d been so cruel to Nons, even the kids, could’ve been enraged at the contents of Mr. Mason’s terminal. They had assigned precincts, so it would have been all but guaranteed that the same group who’d left her and her friends in plastic handcuffs had been the same ones who beat Mason bloody during his arrest. If they thought all Nons ‘criminals waiting to happen,’ why did those disgusting images bother them so much?
A brief memory of how terrified she’d been that Mr. Mason would return from work and find them all helpless brought the taste of cheese sandwich back to her mouth. Would he have been so brazen as to walk in, pick up the girls in full view of the boys, and abduct them? She sighed. No, the man was a coward. He wouldn’t want witnesses.
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