Depth

by Rosen, Lev AC

  “Why, yes she is.” Danny was doing what, Simone now realized with horror, was supposed to be an imitation of her. “But I can’t tell you much about it. Confidentiality and all.”

  Simone played along, but didn’t even attempt to imitate Caroline’s voice. “But she’s my best pal, and anything that involves her must involve me. You need to tell me what this is about, or else I can’t trust you.”

  “Well, it’s just that I saw a man pay her some money.”

  “And she waved a gun at me,” Simone said. Danny raised his eyebrows.

  “Then you should definitely ask,” he said, dropping his imitation.

  “I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can ask without asking . . .” Simone shook her head. It was an awful idea. “Was that voice supposed to be me?”

  “Too femme?”

  Before Simone could give him the finger, the door swung open, and Caroline came in, dressed all in black like a coated blade. “I am so ready to kick both your asses,” Caroline told them.

  “Long week?” Simone asked.

  “Yeah, but that thing for my parents is nearly settled, and the other thing with the guy who sailed into town is done, so I am free and I am on a winning streak and I am going to use said streak to beat both of you into mindless bloody piles. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

  “You spend too much time around politicians,” Danny said.

  “You spend too much time with their wives,” Caroline responded, turning her eyes on Danny for the first time. Danny laughed nervously.

  “Business is business,” he said. “Why don’t you put on a glove?”

  “I don’t mind you peddling your faux-voyance to Ms. Seward,” Caroline said, gingerly taking a glove and putting it on. “But when it becomes a news item, it lands on my desk, and then I start to get ever so annoyed. You kept me in the office, Danny. Later than I needed to be.”

  “Hey, some reporter spotted her coming out of my studio. That’s not my fault.”

  “You gave him a comment!” Caroline barked, choosing a bowling ball. She went for blood red. “You said your consultations are confidential, and you’d never betray the confidence of a woman just looking for some answers.”

  “So?”

  “So you confirmed she was seeing you.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s good for business.”

  “Not mine. They even have a photo of her waiting in your parlor or whatever you call it—with all the bullshit magic symbols and crap. Not great press. Can’t you invest in some Privilux or something?”

  Danny glanced over at Simone. Privilux was a spray made for windows, filled with invisible nanochips that gave off a signal to blur any attempt to digitally record past them; it was the ultimate in privacy screening for a window. Of course, it was insanely expensive, and you could always get mirrored glass, so few people in New York used the stuff. Simone had sprayed every window in her apartment with it, and when Danny visited, he always complained it made the inside of his head itch. Explaining that to Caroline would be difficult, as she didn’t know about Danny’s unique relationship with the wireless world.

  “Can we bowl?” Simone asked. She glanced up at the scoreboard. Caroline had entered her name as Genghis. She was clearly feeling punchy; definitely not the time to ask about The Blonde.

  “Yeah,” Caroline said, “let’s bowl.”

  Simone threw first, the VR ball rolling smoothly from her hand and into the wall, where it continued to travel down the lane. If she hadn’t been there when she’d turned on the room, it would have been believable bowling. A whole lane in a small room. Even the jukebox was operational, as Caroline started tapping it while Danny threw. Elvis was replaced by Peggy Lee singing “Fever.”

  The first round went to Caroline, who did a victory dance when she rolled strikes.

  “This would be better with beer,” Simone said.

  “There’s a vending machine outside,” Danny said. “I saw it when I got lost coming here. Want me to get us something to drink?”

  “Make it dark,” Simone said.

  “Two each!” Caroline called as Danny left. The door closed behind him, and Simone stepped up for her next turn. The ball appeared in her hand again. “Why did you invite him?” Caroline asked. “Was it just so I could yell at him? That would be very thoughtful of you.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Simone said. She bowled a strike. “And he was helping me out on this case.”

  “I don’t like his line of work.”

  “You don’t mind mine.” Simone threw again, only knocking down half the pins.

  “It’s different. Yours is honest. He dresses things up in lies.”

  “To make people happy,” Simone said, turning around.

  “Screw happy. I want people honest.”

  Danny came back in, holding a six-pack of beer.

  “The machine sold you that?” Caroline asked.

  “Modified,” Danny said with a nod. “Only distributes six-packs.”

  “Smart,” Caroline said, taking a beer from Danny. “You’re up.”

  Caroline popped open her beer and knocked it back. Simone did likewise as Danny stepped up to the lane. Simone saw Caroline narrowing her eyes at him, shark-like, but bit her lip. Hopefully Danny could handle Caroline’s psych-outs.

  “Simone says you helped her with a case,” Caroline said just as Danny swung his arm down to release the ball. He rocked slightly from the question, and the ball went right to the gutter. Caroline snickered.

  “Uh, yeah,” Danny said, throwing a questioning look at Simone. She shook her head, signaling him to stay quiet. Danny looked at Caroline, who gave him nothing but a wicked little smile. He turned back, and pulled his arm back to throw the ball again.

  “What’s it about?” Caroline asked this time. The ball moved slowly and unevenly, knocking over one pin. Danny watched it the whole time before turning back around.

  “I don’t think I can say,” he said. Caroline put down her beer and strode up to the alley, patting him on the head as she walked.

  “That’s okay,” she said, and with one fluid movement bowled another strike. Simone took a drink from her beer and handed a fresh one to Danny, who looked confused.

  “She’s just trying to psych you out,” Simone explained. Caroline wiggled her eyebrows at them and rolled the ball again, knocking down all but one of the pins. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

  “It doesn’t work on Simone, usually,” Caroline said, walking back to her beer. “But sometimes . . .” She winked at Simone as Simone approached the lane. Simone raised her arm as if to swing and tensed, waiting for Caroline to say something; she didn’t, so Simone rolled the ball. “What’s the case about?” Caroline asked just as Simone was letting go of the ball. Simone ignored the question as best she could, and the ball rocketed forward, into a seven-ten split. She turned to glare at Caroline, who was just polite enough to not laugh. Simone managed to knock down one of the pins on her next roll. She turned around and walked back over to Caroline while Danny took the lane. He glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if expecting Caroline to leap at him. Simone finished what was left of her beer in one swallow.

  “Be nice,” Simone said softly to Caroline, as Danny swung his arm way back, apparently determined to throw the ball so forcefully not even Caroline could disrupt his stride. The ball curved wildly and took out half the pins.

  “When am I nice?” Caroline asked. Danny went to take his second turn, seemingly more confident now. “Does it involve guns?” Caroline asked. The ball veered and took out only two pins. Caroline smiled at Danny as he walked back from the lane, and handed him her empty beer bottle. Danny glared but took it. Caroline stepped up to the lane and stretched her arms before the ball appeared in her hand.

  “You know what’s funny?” Danny asked in a vaguely aggressive tone that didn’t quite wor
k, like a kitten playing tiger. Simone stared at him. Was he trying to psych Caroline out? He couldn’t be dumb enough to think he could do that. “I’m a brunet, Simone is a redhead, you’re a raven-haired vixen . . .” He stopped to drink his beer. Simone was now staring intently at him. He wasn’t going to do what it sounded like, she hoped. She liked him, he was a good kid, and she didn’t want to have to smack him to keep him from talking. Caroline rolled the ball, and just as she did so, Danny added, “All we need is a blonde.”

  The sound effect of crashing pins that Caroline’s strike generated was incredibly loud to Simone. She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to grab his hair and drag him out of the room. He pointedly avoided her gaze.

  “I think you’re psyching out the wrong person,” Caroline said, with a look of amusement. Simone realized she must look very angry. “He took my beer,” she lied, trying to relax her face. Caroline shrugged and turned back to the lane. Danny turned to Simone, smiling. He looked happy, as though he’d come up with a good idea. Simone desperately shook her head, but he nodded back just as emphatically. This wasn’t just him getting back at Caroline. He thought he was helping.

  “Do you know any blondes?” Danny asked loudly as Caroline swung back her arm. “Maybe you met one at the Four Seasons?” Simone reached out but wasn’t fast enough to clamp his mouth shut. Her hand was heavy from the glove, and she ended up just patting his face. He looked at her confused, but before she could say anything, she realized something else was wrong. There was no sound of a strike. Simone looked over at the lane. Caroline was silhouetted by it, her gutter ball rolling slowly out of sight.

  “Met with a blonde at the Four Seasons?” Caroline turned around, looking unhappy. She crossed her arms. “Is this a setup? Am I involved in your case?” She took a step closer to Simone and pointed at her chest. Simone said nothing. Caroline’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment, she had an expression Simone had never seen on her before: She looked hurt. Then her face hardened to a Glassteel sheen. “Am I a suspect?”

  “The woman you were meeting with—” Simone started to explain.

  “Marina. She’s an art dealer. I’m buying a Reinel for my parents. Remember? I told you I had crap to do for them?” Caroline was angry now. She threw up her arms and walked away from Simone, then back again. “Why couldn’t you just ask me like a normal person? And do you really think I’m involved? You think I wouldn’t tell you if I was involved in some sort of . . . what? Conspiracy?” She stared Simone down, and Simone glanced downward. Her voice got lower, colder. “That is what you think, isn’t it? One meeting with some woman involved in your case and you think I’m conspiring against you. You think I’m that crap of a friend, don’t you?”

  “She pointed a gun at me,” Simone said. Caroline didn’t say anything—just stared at Simone and crossed her arms, waiting for something else. Simone didn’t have anything else.

  “And you didn’t think I’d want to know that?” Simone didn’t say anything. “You thought I knew? You thought . . . what, that I was in on it?” Simone wanted to say something; she could feel words bubbling under the surface, but they just crept up into her mind and went back down again, half-syllables and lost protests drowning somewhere inside her. She opened her mouth, hoping they might come together, create some excuse, some explanation, some apology, but yes, she didn’t trust Caroline, she was afraid to, and not just Caroline, but . . . she sighed. Her mouth closed.

  “Fuck you,” Caroline said, throwing off her glove and storming out of the room.

  “Thanks,” Simone said to Danny after a minute. Danny still hadn’t lifted his head.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’m shit for secrets. I could tell you about how I’m trained to share everything I know, or how I thought I was helping, but . . . I fucked up. Sorry.”

  Simone shook her head. She’d been ready to hit him hard enough to dislodge the computer in his head, but all that drained out of her when she saw the expression of regret on his face. She knew she should be furious with him, but she just felt sorry for him. She was angrier with herself.

  “I shouldn’t have tried to keep it from her. It was stupid.”

  “And kinda mean,” Danny added.

  Simone glared. “Be quiet unless you’re apologizing.” Simone took a deep breath and sat down on the floor. She felt cold. “Fuck,” she said to no one in particular. She reached to her side but remembered she wasn’t wearing her coat. “Give me my trench,” she said to Danny. Wordlessly, he complied. She took off her glove so she could fish her cigarettes out of the pocket. She lit one, leaned back against the wall, and pulled herself into a cross-legged position. When she’d had a good inhale she held her cigarette up next to her cheek.

  “You should go apologize,” Danny said after a minute, taking his glove off.

  “It could have been an act,” Simone said.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.” She inhaled again. She wanted to believe it, though. What did that say about her? She didn’t ask the question aloud. Danny wasn’t good at lying.

  Suddenly the door flew open, and Simone looked up, her mouth already curving into a smile in hopes it was Caroline, but it was the lane attendant.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “No smoking!” He pointed at the sign on the door he was still holding open. Simone quickly stubbed the cigarette out on the floor next to her. “Don’t do that!” he said.

  “Sorry,” Simone said. Then an alarm went off, a loud piercing thing, and the room turned a dull red color, shutting the VR interface off.

  “You set off the alarms!” the attendant shouted. “Oh fuck.” He ran out the way he came, just as sprinklers started spraying down thick pelts of freezing water on them. Danny began to laugh. He tried to cover his mouth and hide it, but he was bad at that, too. Simone stared at him as the water poured down on her, until he gave up and just let the laughter pour out of him.

  “Sorry,” he said, between laughs, “sorry.” Simone got up and put on her coat, which was also soaked. The floor was covered with water and filling up fast. They needed to leave. Simone pushed the door open and waved for Danny to come along.

  Outside the lobby was chaos as people ran from their lanes to the front door. Simone and Danny joined them, running out the front door and into New York, where waves were crashing, but at least it wasn’t raining. She and Danny walked a few blocks without saying anything, Danny still giggling.

  Simone lit another cigarette.

  “You really should apologize,” Danny said finally. “She trusted you.” He shrugged at her. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him, but through him at the city. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’ll call ya.” Then he walked away, dripping wet, but with his shoulders back and his chest puffed out like he was the luckiest kid on the ocean. Simone watched him go and finished her cigarette. She lit another and finished that one too. The cigarettes weren’t doing anything for her, or maybe they were just giving her that sour sensation in her stomach. She needed something else to make her feel . . . different.

  She pulled her hair back and wrung out what water was left, then put it in a ponytail so it wouldn’t stick to her. She dried her face on her sleeves. Her trench coat was already dry, her pants and shirt less so, but she didn’t care. She headed for deCostas’ hotel. She hadn’t answered that message from him—hadn’t even read it. She tapped her earpiece and told it to dictate his latest message to her as she walked.

  “Simone, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our time together tonight, and that I was perfectly prepared to be a gentleman and order us dinner, or take us out for dinner—I’m not sure if my hotel does room service—had you only been there when I woke up. I hope your sudden departure didn’t indicate regret or, worse, disappointment with our activities. It was the most fun I’ve had since coming to this
city. I also hope this doesn’t mean our partnership is over. I have many more buildings to inspect, and I look forward to your company—in the buildings or elsewhere. Let me know if you’d like me to send you more addresses.”

  Simone smirked at the message. It was careful, she thought with a bit of disdain. But he had been fun, and the money was still good. She’d keep up with him. She might need the money for a lawyer soon, anyway. She hadn’t heard from Peter or Kluren; she didn’t know if they were building a case against her, if they were waiting at her office to arrest her, or if this would just be another mark in her file. They had just as much evidence as she did. Less now. She knew The Blonde’s name. Marina. No surname, though. She could ask Danny to figure it out, check the guest list at the Four Seasons, but she didn’t want to talk to Danny right now. Or anybody else.

  The sun was setting when she rounded a building and got a view of deCostas’ hotel. A small car rolled past Simone, making the wooden slats of the bridge she was crossing shudder. Below, the water was getting anxious, splashing up in anticipation of something. Simone studied the horizon. There were some dark clouds, maybe a storm. She couldn’t tell how far away. She could always get a room in the hotel when she was done with deCostas. She didn’t want to spend the night, give him the wrong idea.

  deCostas stepped out of his hotel onto the bridge and looked around. Simone rolled her head and stayed where she was. He didn’t see her. He checked his wristpiece and walked off, away from Simone. Simone followed him.

  The whole city was dark, and the water was black, except for the bright spots of green beneath the streetlights. Simone wasn’t sure if it was odd that deCostas was wandering without her. Wasn’t she his tour guide? It was a silly thought, of course—he could go wherever he wanted. But it felt strange. Where was he going? She followed him for several blocks, keeping her eyes on the horizon now and then, hanging back so he didn’t see her stalking—no, that was Caroline’s word for it—following him. It felt good to be doing this, to be hanging back and watching, to be analyzing the way his head turned so she could duck out of sight in time.