I stopped after I’d dealt out nine cards, using a “should I or shouldn’t I?” spread. I lined them up carefully, feeling nothing but dread and foreboding with each card I’d set down. The four cards on the right showed what would happen if I stayed in the same situation. The four on the left showed what would happen if I changed the situation. The last card showed the hidden piece of information I needed to know in order to make the right decision—to do it, or not do it.
My gut was roiling and I felt sick to my stomach as I looked over my selection. It was as bad as I feared. I was looking at too many thorns and not enough daisies. Thorns meant conflict and strife; daisies meant love and friendship. Also absent were acorns. Those represented wealth, meaning I shouldn’t expect to make any lasting contacts tomorrow and there would be no future business from Novi’s friends. However, there were a few wings, which stood for hope and the potential to overcome. But there were wings on both sides and not enough of them to change the final outcome. Essentially, whatever choice I made, I failed. But the kicker was the final card; the Eight of Thorns, reversed. Treachery and opposition from an unexpected source. Someone I trusted would betray me. There would be a potentially fatal accident, coming from a direction I didn’t expect.
The hell? How could I prevent what the cards showed if no matter what I did, it was still coming? I couldn’t even tell what the cards were reacting to. Was it Novi and Lotus’s gut feeling? Was there an issue with the mines that could affect Alexei? Or was this in reaction to my meeting with Vieira? Or was it all because of Brody and that stupid, reckless kiss? I didn’t know, and the cards wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell me. I was still locked in the same cycle of confusion, with the same unspecified gut feeling, with nothing any clearer. The only difference was instead of feeling vaguely worried, I could be definitely worried. I sighed, sinking back in my chair as I stared at the spread I’d laid. There was nothing to do but keep trudging forward. Bad things were on the move—end of story. And like fate, whatever was coming was inevitable. Nothing could get me out of its way. All I could do was hope to survive it.
I took an air-hack home, completely forgetting I had a flight-limo on standby. I think I may have even walked by my chain-breaker security without seeing them, such was the fog cluttering my head. Or at least, I didn’t recall seeing them. Ironically, even after it felt like I’d faced enough drama and activity for three different sols, I got home at around six in the evening—roughly the same time I would have reached my old condo after a normal workday.
My threatening headache had arrived as anticipated, bringing friends. I felt both sick to my stomach and sick at heart with what had happened. I hadn’t just committed one betrayal, I’d committed two. If Alexei knew what I’d been up to today, which I suspected he might, what would he do? What kind of scene could I expect at home because of my utter stupidity and the poor decisions I’d made? Maybe the Eight of Thorns was the fallout that came from betraying Alexei’s trust by throwing myself at Brody. If so, maybe I deserved whatever I got.
It was with utter humiliation that I went through the automated security check at the front gate of the house to confirm who I was, scanning my c-tex bracelet countless times so my damn citizenship chip would beep. Then I had to walk up the long drive to the house and let myself in with another swipe of my bracelet, which seemed to take another seventeen sols. By the time I made it into the house, I was carrying my shoes because they pinched my feet, my hair was unbraided because Brody had made a mess of it, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.
The house was dark. I trudged to the front staircase, instructing the AI to turn on the minimal amount of lights. All I wanted to do was shower, take something for my headache, and go to bed. I paused at one of the rooms off the main hallway—a sitting room that didn’t get much use. A faint light shone from inside.
Alexei sat in a high-backed chair, head back, an empty glass in his hand. On the table beside him were a single lamp and a crystal decanter, nearly empty. He opened his eyes when he heard me, his face unreadable in the low light from the lamp.
“You didn’t take the flight-limo home,” he said. “I was worried.”
“Sorry. I forgot. I took an air-hack instead. It wasn’t a good day,” I said from the doorway, afraid to come closer. He didn’t look worried. He looked controlled and icily calm.
“Are you alright?”
I cringed. The way he said it made it sound like he merely asked out of courtesy because he already knew. “Not really,” I admitted. “Things happened today. Things I wish would go away and leave me alone.”
“Did you want to talk about it?”
Oh hell, no. “I don’t feel very well. I just want to lie down.”
He nodded. “We can talk when you’re feeling better.”
“Okay.” I turned, about to walked away, then paused. “Do you ever think about going back to Earth?”
He was silent so long, I gave up nonchalantly examining the door frame to look at him. He was watching me, his expression so inscrutable, it scared me. I toyed nervously with a strand of hair.
“Why are you asking me that?” He sounded puzzled, as if it had broken through the chill.
I shrugged. What did it matter what I did when everything was inevitable and couldn’t be changed? “It’s nothing. Forget I asked.”
“The Consortium is looking toward Jupiter and its moons,” he said, stopping me when I would have turned away again. “It’s easier to manage from Mars. I don’t think returning to Earth is an option in the foreseeable future.”
“Oh.” I think something wilted in me a little then, something I hadn’t analyzed yet. It felt like it may have been the tiny shred of hope I’d harbored that maybe this wasn’t all unraveling as I watched. “That makes sense. Why would you leave when everything you want is here?”
We both fell silent then, as if each of us waited for the other person to say something. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I stepped out into the hallway, feeling like I was dying and everything was broken and wrong.
“Speaking of Earth,” he said so I had to pause yet again, “I wanted to let you know we’ll have guests staying with us. Konstantin will be arriving with the other members of the Consortium in two sols. I want you with me to meet him when The Martian Princess docks.”
My breath caught and I felt chilled. There it was—my Eight of Thorns, blindsiding me senseless. Forget everything else; this was the event I’d been dreading and had never thought would happen. Konstantin Belikov was coming to Mars. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I’m telling you now. Isn’t that enough?” The way he said it made me flinch, like he purposely wanted to inflict the deepest cut. “He’s always wanted to visit Mars. Now’s his chance.”
So I nodded like this was actually good news, which was just another lie on top of the others. “How long will he be on Mars?”
“As long as he needs,” he said.
My hand went to my stomach, rubbing absently as if that would make all the bad feelings go away. I stopped when I saw him watching me, his eyes narrowing. What did he know? Should I confess to everything and tell him all his fears about me were justified, in addition to new ones he didn’t even know about yet? Would he even hear me if I tried to explain?
“I can’t wait,” I said instead. “Good night, if I don’t see you later.”
I’d almost reached the main staircase when I heard glass shattering. Not the sound of a dropped glass hitting the tile floor, but of a heavy crystal decanter being hurled into the wall and smashing into a million pieces on impact.
I froze, swallowing the sob in my throat. Once I’d mastered it, I called out because I couldn’t go to him. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”
“I’m fine. Just…go.”
And because I didn’t know how to handle the mess I’d made of everything, I went.
The next morning, all I had from Alexei was a shim saying he’d be unavailable for the next twenty-four to thirty-six ho
urs, and it was unlikely I’d see him before we met Belikov at the space elevator. He then indicated I was never to use a public air-hack again and a flight-limo was available whenever I needed it. I could almost hear the chilling command in his voice. I bristled at that, annoyed he thought he could order me around like some Consortium lackey and I would jump to do his bidding.
If he knew about Brody, he wasn’t saying, though his actions made it clear he at least suspected. Was he waiting for me to come clean? If so, the longer I took, the worse things would be. And if I did say something, I was afraid of what might happen to us. Even if things were rocky between us, at least we were still together. Losing Alexei might be the most crippling blow of all. At some point, I knew I’d have to tell him about Vieira too. Funny how between Vieira and the kiss, telling him about my grandfather felt like the lesser of two evils. For now, I decided to focus on the card reading party and push everything else out of my mind.
At the shop, it was one of those sols where everything was unremarkable, and I wondered how long the calm before the storm would last. I had several appointments, but wasn’t invested in the clients. I had a feeling Lotus wanted to grill me about what she saw yesterday with Brody, but I managed to dodge her in between clients and finishing up my Russian homework for tomorrow night’s class. Of course, that was assuming I’d still be going to class after Belikov and the rest of the Consortium arrived. If not, that would make three in a row I’d missed. At this rate, I’d have to re-enroll next semester.
Eventually, it was closing time and Lotus went home. Mannette and company would meet me at my shop in an hour so I killed time by grabbing a bite to eat from the deli on the corner before getting ready back at the shop.
I debated how flamboyant I should be. I didn’t want to overwhelm these women. On the other hand, Mannette would expect a show for her CN-net series. In the end, I decided not to go overboard with the whole exotic Tarot card reader experience. I’d be entertaining, but not make anyone feel uncomfortable about participating. Plus Mannette had one of the most successful shows on the CN-net. These women would be broadcast as part of her series, and there were few people in the tri-system who wouldn’t get a kick out of being included.
I tied my hair back with a turquoise scarf and threw another one around my neck. I also wore a modest dress that reached my ankles and was supported by thin shoulder straps. It was aqua colored and patterned with what resembled gray storm clouds. It might have seemed dowdy to some, but I felt the dress was saved by the fact that the clouds perfectly accentuated all my curves. That, and the slit up the back that stopped short of baring my butt to the world. Then big earrings, lots of jingly bracelets, and a pair of lace-up sandals. Lastly, Granny G’s cards because no show was complete without them. The bracelets were a bit annoying because they kept tangling around my c-tex bracelet but I could make do for one night, provided I didn’t have to shim anyone.
A few minutes after I was ready, I heard tapping at the door. Outside were Mannette, two of her PVRs recording her every move as usual—different from the ones from yesterday—three other women I assumed were show-friends, and two bodyguards. Dark-skinned with hair in long dreadlocks, both were built like old-school battle cruisers going off to war. They gave off the same “don’t fuck with me” vibe that was universal to bodyguards.
Mannette didn’t disappoint. She wore a skintight black dress accented with large vertical rows of red diamonds. Her hair was tall enough that it added another foot in height, making her tower over me. The dress was slit almost to her waist and she wore shiny black crotch-brushing boots. She’d dressed her entourage to match her outfit, with even her bodyguards wearing suits covered in tiny red diamonds.
For a second, I just stared at her, not sure which of us was the Tarot card reader. “Wow,” I said finally. “You look…Wow.”
She bowed with false modesty. “We want to make it a night these ladies won’t forget, am I right?”
“No, you’re right,” I agreed, returning her grin and feeling something a little like excitement. Tonight would be fun. With Mannette there, how could it not?
“What about them?” she asked, gesturing to her flight-limo waiting curbside, then mine waiting behind it.
Annoyance speared me, the same burst I’d felt when Alexei ordered me to stay away from public air-hacks. Gods, did he think he controlled everything now that we lived together? Was he looking for incriminating evidence to see if I spent more time with Brody? “Ignore them. That’s what I plan on doing.”
“Your new friend isn’t going to join us?” she asked coyly after we’d arranged ourselves in our seats—one of the security detail with us, one up front, one of her PVRs with me and one with Mannette to record everything, and her show-friends spread between us. The flight-limo took off into low-street orbit, merging into the rest of the traffic.
“No,” I said firmly. I had to be careful. Everything I said and did would be broadcast over the CN-net. I would be scrutinized by the entire tri-system, who consumed gossip with an endless appetite. “He will most definitely not be joining us.”
She pouted. “Such a shame. We were just starting to get acquainted yesterday.”
“You could probably get in touch with him yourself.”
“I would, but he made it clear his interests lie elsewhere. Not sure I’d be able to turn his head, even if I used all of this.” She gestured to her body from breast to thigh.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe you didn’t put in enough effort.”
“Oh, believe me, there was effort. The boy just didn’t seem into me, but I think I can wear him down.” Then she gave me a calculating look. “And did things go well with your grandfather?”
Oh shit. I wondered if Alexei was watching the broadcast. Even if he was up to his neck in alligators, he could still split his attention to see what I was doing.
“It went well enough.”
“Too bad I didn’t get a chance to meet him. Maybe some other time,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Felicia Sevigny, no one surrounds themselves with as many fascinating people as you. It must be a gift.”
“Yeah, I’m lucky that way.” Time to steer this conversation in a less horrific direction. I whipped out my cards from their case and started to shuffle. Then I looked over Mannette and her crew, beaming at all of them because gods knew I wanted to look pretty for the whole damn CN-net to see. “Okay, who wants a demonstration on how this works?”
The rest of the ride passed with me reading cards for Mannette and friends. All made the appropriate noises in the appropriate places with one of the women squealing in delight when I told her she’d meet the love of her life within the next six to twelve months. The male PVR looked a little glum at that, making me wonder what unrequited feelings he harbored. Well, it wasn’t my job to ferret that out. I just read the cards, kept the people entertained, and tried to head off any awkward questions before anyone could ask them.
It didn’t take long before we were on the other side of Elysium City, in Davis District, aka Driller Dive. It was a poorer, dirtier section of the city, but I’d seen worse on Earth, so it barely fazed me. Growing up in near poverty and living on the edge of the largest slum in Africa could give you a different perspective on things. However, my companions gave horrified gasps and made snide comments about the sketchy-looking buildings. There was still enough daylight to see the graffiti, the piles of refuse, the homes that needed repair, and overgrown weed beds that passed as gardens.
One thing I did like, however, was that everyone lived in individual homes instead of apartments piled up on top of one another or trailers that never stayed in one place. These people had permanence. They had yards where kids could play and parks where people could gather. Even if it wasn’t in the best repair, it was nice, and I told them so.
Mannette laughed while her show-friends looked at me in horror. “Would you give up what you have now with the Russian and take all this instead?” she teased.
“I didn’t
say that. Just that it would have been nice to grow up in a place where you actually had something to show for your efforts, and you belonged to a community. We moved around a lot when I was growing up, probably because someone was being chased out of town by the local One Gov officials.”
“Must be that gypsy blood,” one of the show-friends said, making me want to punch her for her thoughtless racial slur.
I smiled at her, though she probably had no idea of the less-than-friendly thoughts behind it. It made me wish I could predict something bad for her like she was about to fall off a cliff. “Yes, must be.” I turned away, pointedly cutting her out of the conversation. “Are we almost there yet?”
As soon as I asked the question, I felt the flight-limo descend, my stomach jerking in response. The door slid open and I climbed out to investigate my surroundings. I’d looked at the aerial-nav CN-net maps ahead of time so I could be familiar with the area, but the house I saw now wasn’t like the one on the maps.
While the single-family dwelling was the same, it was run-down and the yard overgrown. I would have said the house was abandoned, but the lights were on. Miners spent nine months on-site, with one month traveling back and forth, and two months’ paid leave to spend with their families. It wasn’t an ideal life, but I always thought the pay made up for its shortcomings. Apparently I was wrong, although who knew how many gold notes Novi’s husband transferred home each pay cycle and how many he kept.
I was also wrong about something else. As I gazed at the broken-down house in this shabbier than usual area of Driller Dive, my gut woke up, prodding at me in a way that demanded I pay attention or suffer the consequences. I frowned, studying the house, hearing Mannette come up beside me.
The Chaos of Luck Page 18