Keepers

by Brenda Cooper

  She felt plain by comparison, in spite of the hours she’d spent poring over designs for her outfit. She’d ordered black pants with geometric cut-outs that loosely mimicked stars and planets, and a flowing sage-green shirt that highlighted her green eyes and contrasted with her red hair. She had felt fabulous, and now she felt understated.

  Imke seemed to appreciate Coryn’s look just fine. Coryn’s chest felt light as Imke’s smile spread all the way across their face, lifting their cheekbones and looking so genuine and unforced it made Coryn smile. She sped up as she went to meet them.

  They led her back to the railing, leaning out and looking over the wide seawall. “I like the wild places,” Imke said. “We have water like this, huge lakes that are security holes in our wall, but beautiful. They are the only places we really have with horizons.”

  “Where?”

  “Oh.” Imke smiled. “I feel like I know you so well, but I don’t, I suppose.” Their words drawled off as they stared out over the water. “I’m from Chicago. Assigned to our embassy here.”

  Up close, Coryn could see that the jewels hung on small nanoribbons so thin she could barely see them. Metallic. Tiny knots held the jewels and faceted beads apart from each other, the whole long assemblages light enough to blow in the wind and tinkle against each other. There were maybe twenty or twenty-five strands curling down from Imke’s hair and lying all along the left side of their neck. Fascinated, Coryn stayed quiet, her gaze skipping between the water and Imke.

  What a stunningly beautiful human. Imke pointed.

  “Is that a fish?”

  Coryn squinted. The city’s lights only illuminated a few hundred feet of water, maybe inches deep. The surface shifted and moved around, and rings of water moved through it. Then a gray form rose and fell, slick and finned. Coryn watched while it breached and breathed, noting its slightly flattened face. “It’s a harbor porpoise.”

  “Is that a dolphin?”

  Coryn smiled. “Close enough.”

  “Do you know a lot about dolphins?”

  The porpoise disappeared, and Coryn watched the places it seemed likely to surface. “I’m fascinated with cetaceans. Particularly orcas, but really everything that lives out here.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  Heat flushed Coryn’s cheeks. “I was glad you wanted to meet down here.”

  “Do you want to go on the Ferris wheel?”

  “No.”

  Imke smiled. “Good. I’ve been on it three times already. What’s your favorite place in the city?”

  “The top of the Bridge of Stars.”

  “Really, a bridge?”

  “I love the view. I’ll show it to you. But not tonight. It’s work to get there. We’re not dressed for all that.”

  “Can we take a car?”

  “No.” Coryn gave up watching for the porpoise. “That’s why I like it. You have to work for it. Walk up, run up, or bike up.”

  “So where else can we go?”

  All Coryn could really think of was bridges and running places and parks and places Julianna owned. None of them seemed right for Imke. So she countered. “Where would you like to go?”

  “Were you born here?”

  “I’m really boring,” Coryn countered. “Mostly I was poor. I can show you the places poor people go, but once more, we’re not dressed right.”

  Imke raised a bright blue eyebrow. “Are you really? Boring? I don’t think Julianna suffers the boring.”

  Coryn swallowed. Maybe she was boring. Maybe that was why she’d been cast out of the higher levels and of her room. But this wasn’t the moment for that either. She had already decided this was important, and that whether or not Imke liked her mattered. Just being near them made Coryn’s palm sweaty and her words tickle in her throat. “You said you liked my dancing. Do you know a good place to dance?”

  Imke stood up. They and Coryn were almost equal in height, or would be if Imke weren’t wearing platforms that made them a few inches taller. “I know just the place.”

  “I’m not twenty-one.”

  “I saw your red bracelet in the bar. Where I’m taking you, age doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh.”

  Imke glanced at Namina. “Can you ditch your companion?”

  Can you, rather than will you. Imke didn’t appear to have a robot keeper, but they were giving Coryn room.

  “I can’t.”

  A sigh slid though Imke’s lips. “I didn’t think so. Well, she’ll have to stay outside. There will be a few more like her.”

  Coryn shrugged.

  Fifteen minutes later, Imke led Coryn into a large round hotel building and took an escalator to the top. After traversing a long hallway and taking a tiny set of stairs to the roof, they stepped onto a big square patio. The lighting was all ambient—light from other buildings, light from stars. A cool wind plucked at Imke’s jewels.

  Three or four other companions sat at tables, all of them young models with chiseled features and spare clothes. Coryn nodded, and Namina went over to an empty table and sat, staring out over the city. She was beautiful, maybe as beautiful as the others left out here, but she also looked a little plainer in ways Coryn couldn’t figure out until Imke leaned down and whispered in her ear. “See that girl-bot over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s almost half a million dollars.”

  “Oh.” After moment she leaned up and whispered, “Why?”

  “She’s . . . precise. Clearly a sex-bot and a companion. But see how fine her features are? Don’t get too near—I’m sure you wouldn’t be allowed to touch her, but doesn’t she almost glow?”

  The robot turned toward them, her eyes picking up enough light for the soft green-blue of them to show. They looked deep and wise and a little thoughtful, dripping with empathy.

  Coryn leaned into Imke. “She looks more than human.”

  “She does.” Imke brushed their lips across Coryn’s cheek, a touch so hot it almost burned. They tugged on Coryn’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Imke opened the wide door at the far end of the patio while all of the companions watched them. Just inside, a male robotic guard stopped them for a moment. He stared at Imke and then at Coryn, and then nodded sagely.

  They passed through yet another door, the setup reminding her of the security vestibule for Julianna’s private offices. On the far side of the doors, a patio swept across the top of the building, the crowded dance floor pulsing with pastel colors. Mist rose from the edges, swirling across the dancer’s feet, up as high as their knees in a few places. A beautiful wrought metal and wood fence with glass panes and fantastic dragons and birds enclosed the patio, which was lined with tables for two and potted trees covered with pale yellow lights. Robotic gargoyles bigger than humans occupied the corners, turned in toward the dance floor. The lead singer of the band played on a raised pedestal. He nodded familiarly at Imke.

  Imke pulled Coryn into the crowd. Her feet moved awkwardly for the first song, and then Imke moved into her, putting a hand on the small of her back, and Coryn let out a long breath and started dancing.

  Imke directed her, and then let themselves be directed, moving easily to cues.

  Dancers began to give them room, and a few patrons clapped after Imke swirled Coryn under their arm, picked her up, and twirled her away.

  Five songs later, sweat covered Coryn’s skin and soaked her shirt. Imke called a brief halt and led Coryn over to a single open table that appeared, as if just for them. A pair of stylized eagles decorated the fence nearby. Imke nodded at the outsized birds. “I’ll let them keep you company for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Coryn had barely recovered her breath when Imke showed up with two glasses of water and two glasses of a pale white substance that didn’t quite look like wine.

  “What is that?” Coryn asked.

  “Dessert wine. It’s sweet, but you can use the sugar after all of that dancing.”

  Coryn reached for it and took a sip. �
�Sugar’s not on my training diet.” She took another sip, letting the wine rest on her tongue and trickle down her throat. “But this is good.”

  “Training?”

  “I’m a runner.”

  Imke raised their eyebrows. “That explains your finely tuned energy.”

  Coryn didn’t know how to react to that, so she didn’t. “If you’ve only been here a month, how did you know this place existed?” Coryn asked. “I never heard of it.” She didn’t bother to ask how Imke managed to get wine for her. This place stank of the privilege of the super-rich. Not the quiet rich like Julianna. The show-offs. The chair she sat on probably cost a month’s rent for her apartment.

  Imke sipped their wine, their jewels clinking against each other as they moved. “I work for the mayor of Chicago, and he sent me here a few years ago. I split time between the two cities now.”

  “So you’re more than a singer?”

  “Aren’t you more than a dancer?”

  “Sure. I’m a runner. And I work for a foundation.”

  “You’re not a Wilder.”

  “My sister is.”

  “So what are you?”

  Why did everyone want to know that? Coryn finished her wine in a long swallow. “That’s a good question.”

  Imke cocked their head at Coryn. “You have a job a lot of people would love.”

  “Working for Julianna and Jake?”

  “Yes.”

  She blushed. It still amazed her as well. “I mostly support my sister. I’m helping her get things done. She’s in Chelan.”

  “What is she working on?”

  “Wolves.”

  “Is she safe there?”

  Coryn shrugged. “Is anyone safe anywhere?”

  “No.” Imke grinned. “But every time I feel safe I also feel bored.” They leaned in a little. “I’m here to spy. My boss thinks the recent attacks were designed to test Seacouver, figure out the strength of your defenses. And that there’s worse to come. We have walls, but they can be breached. So we’re worried for ourselves, too.”

  “Is that why you’re making friends with me?”

  Imke reached a hand across the table.

  Coryn lifted her hand up, let it slide into Imke’s while keeping her eyes locked with theirs. Their eyes were huge and beautiful, as exotic as everything else. Imke’s fingers were long and slender, as gender indeterminate as everything else about them, as beautiful. Warm.

  “I like your dancing,” Imke said. “It’s that simple.”

  Coryn’s chest lightened, and the bottom of her throat grew a small lump. “Let’s go.” She stood, pulling Imke toward the floor again, feeling a little naughty for insisting, a little frightened at her own bravery.

  Imke danced more aggressively this round, bumping up against Coryn, swirling hips, smiling with abandon, lifting their arms up and clapping.

  Coryn matched Imke’s movements, exaggerated them.

  Imke smelled like roses and sweat.

  Other dancers surrounded them, clapping.

  Coryn danced harder.

  Imke added sensuality, slowing down and staring at Coryn, looking utterly and only at her, and yet as if they didn’t care what anyone, even Coryn, thought about them.

  Coryn lost herself in the response, gazing back, her body moving of its own accord, reacting to rhythms she hadn’t known existed. She had learned to dance with Paula, but Paula had never taught her to move this way.

  Heat slammed through her center, becoming a spike that she danced upon. Light pounded her half-closed eyes, and her hair dripped with sweat. She felt wet and ragged and starved.

  Imke slowed, backed off, smiled.

  Coryn slowed in response, her breath sharp.

  Imke offered a small curtsey accompanied by a wide smile.

  Coryn laughed, almost stumbling.

  A small crowd clapped.

  “Let’s go. I have somewhere else to take you.”

  Coryn followed Imke through a different door, leaving Namina behind with the fancy companions.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Imke led her along three tall skybridges between buildings, all of them crowded with late-night partiers and their companions, their railings and roofs blinking with bright white and blue lighting. Glass candy canes hung from one roof, clinking together just above her head. She went from hot inside the building to cool on the skybridge, stumbling once.

  Imke took her hand, and a brief look of concern crossed their face. “Time to feed you.”

  Coryn nodded, realizing she’d had wine and air and water and excitement since lunch. And nothing else. She felt lightheaded and dizzy.

  She could stay out and eat. Namina was nowhere to be seen. Maybe no one except the city knew where she was. Well, also except Imke. She didn’t need to get back to Aspen any more. He was gone. With Pablo.

  A small chill of danger eddied through her, a sense of being alive. Here she was, out with a stranger, and no keeper in sight. She smiled as she followed Imke toward a tall, rounded building with orange pansies and dark lavender violas lining the doorways, and a harvestable winter cabbage garden right outside. She stopped and reached for the tiny blue and purple flowers. They were edible, and she was starved. Before Julianna hired her away from the basic income system, she’d paid for her keep by weeding gardens. Not this fancy; down by the streets. But she knew her flowers.

  Imke tugged at her. “Let’s eat.”

  “Okay.”

  The bright hallway shocked Coryn a little awake, and her feet slowed as they encountered plush carpeted walkway. A fancy building. They took an elevator up five floors to the top, and emerged on a patio restaurant. A handsome dark-skinned robotic greeter wearing a powder-blue suit led them to a table close to a waterfall. Imke waved a hand at him. “Water and something to eat please? Even just house bread?”

  He glanced at Coryn and grinned, making her wonder what she looked like.

  When the water came she drained her glass and then another. The bread tasted like delicate and savory air, melting in her mouth.

  Menus appeared.

  “There are no prices.”

  Imke laughed. “Dinner is on the Chicago Embassy.”

  “Oh.” Coryn frowned again. “But what for? I don’t work for Chicago. And Julianna isn’t the mayor of anything right now.”

  Imke’s response came out soft and sure. “Because I get to decide what happens here. Don’t worry. I have a budget, and we get a discount anyway. I come here once a week or so.”

  Coryn shrugged and stared at the menu. It was the kind of food Julianna had served her, but in spite of the fact that Julianna owned restaurants, she seldom ate out. Coryn didn’t recognize all of the words on the piece of paper in front of her, but she found something that looked like Julianna might not shoot her for eating a few days before a race.

  It turned out to be a little rich. Spiced eggs and vegetables, with a thick sauce, which she mostly scraped off.

  “You might have danced enough to earn that sauce,” Imke said.

  Coryn felt herself blush. “Maybe. That was fun. I feel like you’re showing me my own city.”

  “I love Seacouver.” Imke leaned forward. “Tell me your story. One of the aides at the embassy told me you showed up out of nowhere, from an orphanage, and now you’re working closely with Julianna. Poverty to power and all that. I didn’t believe them, but now I do. How did you end up here?”

  Coryn shrugged. “I like to run.”

  “To run? You got here by running?”

  “That’s how I met Julianna. She ran by me and I kept up.”

  Imke looked bemused. They shook their head and sipped some water and leaned back with a small smile. “It takes people years of school and scraping to get to where you are. Lifetimes. Or connections.”

  Coryn took a few bites, buying time to evaluate the slight distrust the questions brought up in her. “I think Julianna tries to meet people when they’re young and train them herself.”

  Imke
nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “So how did you meet the mayor of Chicago?”

  “Mayor Rufus Broadbridge? Hard not to know him.”

  Coryn let out a sigh of relief. Imke wasn’t going to press her for info on Julianna. “Really? How can everyone know the mayor? I hardly know ours.”

  “Everyone has a different story. I went to school with his daughter. We were in DC together, studying city government and international relations between cities. She brought me home one Thanksgiving. I guess he liked me.”

  “So how is that story different than mine? School with a daughter, or running together?”

  “It didn’t sound to me like you were in the same circles at all.”

  “I guess not.” Coryn dipped a fork in the sauce and let herself taste the peppery fats. “Was your family rich?”

  Imke’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “A little. Dad owned a company that built skyways and consulted on some of the skyscrapers that went up in Chicago. But it was all money he earned. He didn’t inherit any of it. My parents still live there. I’ll go back and see them for the holidays.”

  Coryn took the last bite of carrot and realized she was still hungry. She picked the menu back up. “International relations between cities? What does that mean?”

  “Well, there are countries that are still strong. Russia. Australia. But not the US and not Europe, not really. Cities broker trade deals, and sometime even mutual defense.”

  She had heard of such deals. “I just didn’t know people studied that stuff. I knew it happened. We have a mutual aid deal with Portland, for example.”

  “You have one with Chicago, too. And we’re cooperating on building space stations. We have two up with our brand, but you built the propulsion systems. The Seacouver station is going up with our life support systems.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Are you interested in space?”