by Kieran Shea
Flynn sweeps his fingers lightly up and down her hip, drops his hand, and tries to find his place in the book. It’s weird, but with him being beardless he looks almost five years younger, and despite his eye-patch a twinge of deep affection flickers in Koko’s belly. Outside, a cloud change gilds out the room with a buttery, twilight glow.
“I think I’m going to have a rinse,” Koko announces.
“Okay. Did you get anything to eat? We can grab a bite in the commissary if you want.”
“Not hungry,” Koko says, and then adds saucily, “not hungry at least for food.”
Trying to read, when Koko clunkishly kicks off her boots, Flynn raises his head again and sees she’s pulled off all her clothes.
“Are you really that into that book of yours, baby?”
Flynn’s mouth drops open. Reaching the bathroom doorway, Koko turns and raises an arm up the bathroom’s doorjamb. Flynn shuts the book and sets it down on the desk. Rising, his limp is slight, but when he reaches Koko he slides his arms around the small of her back.
Koko slips her hands down between his legs. Instantly she can feel him swelling beneath her fingers, so she presses her face into the space between his chest and his shoulder.
Flynn gulps. “Been a while…” he says.
“That it most certainly has.”
Flynn angles his head toward the bathroom. “Kind of small in that shower stall for two.”
Koko pulls his shirt over his head and unfastens the drawstring on his pants. “We’ll see about that.”
“Dr. Corella told me to be careful.”
“Oh, I’ll be careful with you, handsome.”
“But I have to keep my bandage dry, and I’m still tender.”
Flynn steps awkwardly out of his pants and Koko laughs. Like her, Flynn has opted against wearing the Commonage Farmer John undergarments.
“Tender right now sounds fantastic.”
Turns out the bathroom’s shower stall is too small for the both of them, and minutes later they end up tangled and wet on the bed. Minding Flynn’s mending leg, Koko gently rides his damp hips as Flynn reaches up and lightly touches her face. It’s a slow start, but soon they pursue familiar and trusted moves. The soft sweep of Flynn’s hands moving over her sides and how he gently brushes her hair away from her forehead triggers a melty quiver, and, yearning to feel his heat and modest length, Koko takes him deeper inside. Damn, she’d wanted for them to take their time, but as the seconds pass they’re quickly off to the races. Nerve endings awash in rhythmic sparks of pleasure, it doesn’t take either of them long, and sensing Flynn is about to erupt, Koko lowers herself and twirls her tongue deep into his mouth. A clenched release—mutual and satisfying.
Koko rolls off him and catches her breath. Nuzzling herself against his side, she listens to the thrum of Flynn’s heart and places a hand on his chest. His good eye has gone glassy, and when Flynn purses his lips he lets out a fading note—a bomb falling from above.
“That was great,” he says.
Koko giggles. “That it was. Hey, Flynn?”
“Yeah?”
“I know now might not be the best time to bring this up…”
“I guess I kind of rushed it.”
“Rushed?” Koko laughs. “Oh, that. No, not that. That was fine. That was more than fine. That was long overdue. No, it’s something else.”
Gallantly, Flynn adjusts one of the bed’s pillows behind his head to support them both and strokes her back. “All right… what’s on your mind?”
“Well, back in the infirmary, you know, when Dr. Corella showed up and I lost my head…”
“You want to apologize?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“But before, like before I went and lost control, I started to tell you… we’re not staying.”
Flynn goes still as a post and then sits up quickly. “I knew it—why do you always have to go and spoil everything?”
“Now, wait a second…”
“I mean, these people, they’ve got a good thing going here, Koko. Sure, I know it’s not a tropical, kick back and watch the world burn and pour me another Mai Tai paradise, but why? Why do you want to leave? We’re safe.”
“Flynn, we’re really not.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t start with all that nonsense again. So what, we’re just going to pick up and wander out into the prohibs on our own? That doesn’t sound so hot to me.”
“But we won’t be wandering out into the prohibs. The transport is on its way. True, we might have to stay sharp when it arrives, but it’s all been taken care of.”
“But you’ve just spent the day helping them set up their defenses.”
“Oh, that. That’s not just for them. After those de-civs got in last night, for the time being that’s for our safety too.”
Flynn pauses. “So when?”
“The transport? Later tomorrow or the day after at the outside.”
Flynn shakes his head sullenly. “Then I guess it’s a done deal. Thanks for consulting me first. Thanks a lot.”
Koko props herself up on her elbows. “C’mon, you ought to be relieved.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I am. I’m just so sick of this, Koko.”
“Sick? Sick of what? Sick of me?”
“No—sick of this, you and me, us being on the run. Killers hounding us, all the craziness that seems to follow you like a shadow you can’t shake. And I have to say, this asymmetrical behavior of yours isn’t exactly making me feel any better either.”
“Last night this place was attacked, Flynn.”
“Oh, I know… by de-civs. And you took care of them single-handedly. I saw the results.”
Koko looks up at the ceiling. “God, can someone please tell me what happened to that great guy I used to know? I swear, he was plowing me like a champ just a minute ago.”
“Har-har. Go ahead, make jokes.”
Koko tries to rub his back. “C’mon, baby…”
Flynn jerks his shoulder away sharply.
“Jeez,” Koko says, “did nice guy Sébastien tell you about the CPB filing an insurance claim on the submarine?”
Flynn turns his head. “What?”
“Yeah, the CPB claims the sub we stole was destroyed during a deep-water dive and said we died along with it. I was skeptical at first, but then when we were discussing the Commonage protections after last night’s attacks I made Sébastien show me the documentation. It looks legit.”
“But why would they do that?”
“Beats me,” Koko says. “It could be they just want us to disappear, a cost benefit thing, but coupled with all this Commonage pap and de-civs outside the walls, it’s got me on edge. Anyway, I think Sébastien doesn’t care anymore. He and Dr. Corella just see us—well, me at least—as a destabilizing force. And while they asked that I help with getting some basic defenses in place, I think both of them have got a hard-on for a Koko-free Commonage.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“But this… this could be a good thing for us, Koko. The CPB falsifying an insurance claim that large and asserting our deaths publicly is a major risk. If they’re telling people we’re dead, I think you’re right. Maybe they really don’t care about us anymore. This could be a perfect opportunity for us. We could—” Flynn stops and looks around the room.
“Oh, c’mon. You’re actually telling me you’re still keen on all this subsisting in the wilderness crap?”
“Well, it’s not so bad.”
“Flynn, we’ve only been here for a couple of days, and most of that time you’ve been getting put back together. You may think the Commonage is great, but it’s definitely not. De-civs outside the walls, random incident or not, staying here unarmed is definitely not an option.”
“God—you and the weapons thing again. Got to have my weapons, got to be armed—no one knows we’re here, Koko! Commonage life, I know it might take some getting used to, but we could stay here.
Back in the infirmary you said I didn’t have my head on straight. Maybe you’re the one who’s not seeing things clearly.”
Koko scrutinizes Flynn’s face. Like a blizzard of puzzle pieces swirling finally into place, all at once everything gels together.
We’ve come too far… there’s too much at stake…
I’ve taken great pains to alter the perceived hazards…
A personal investment?
A social petri dish?
The printout and data plug, how Pelham said that Dr. Corella used to be some expert in regenerative neuropharmacology, Sébastien’s touted pharmaceutical and chemistry credentials, Kumari trying to leave, how the twins when she went off in the infirmary snapped to the doc’s order and became bizarrely enervate, all of it suggests…
No. Could it—?
Flynn draws a hand across his face and wrestles his way out of bed. Hobbling toward the bathroom he picks up his clothes.
Fuck—they must’ve done something to him! To everyone!
Flynn looks back at her. “You know what? You do what you want, but I for one am not in any hurry to whisk off to C-GRAP or any place else out there and struggle to put my life back together yet again.”
Blood boiling, Koko sits up. Oh, God, she thinks, how could I have been so blind? Dr. Corella and Sébastien—every nerve ending in her body is screaming at her to jump up, find them, and rip their shitsucking throats out. But then Koko cautions herself. She needs to tread very carefully here and stay calm. She can’t betray any alarm to Flynn. She needs to keep him close.
“Look,” she says. “I’m sorry I brought it all up, okay? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not patronizing you, Flynn. Please, just come back to bed.”
Flynn stares at her and then tosses his clothes on the floor with sudden disgust. When he plods over and sits back down, Koko crawls over and kisses his shoulder.
“Listen, why don’t we just get some sleep, and we’ll talk about it some more in the morning, okay? Fresh heads, maybe grab some eggs? I’m really tired, Flynn, and who knows, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m the one not seeing things clearly.”
“But the transport is already on its way.”
Koko forces a smile. “Oh, transport… transport can be canceled, right? No biggie.”
Flynn moves closer, and they both settle back beneath the covers. As the light from outside fades and the room darkens, soon Koko rolls to her side so Flynn can spoon himself against her back. Eyes open, Koko tries to allay her hypomanic dread and rage, but can’t. She stares wide-eyed at the wall as Flynn yawns and rolls onto his back.
“Gosh, it’s really hard for me to say this, Koko, but I wish you would at least try to show me some respect sometimes, you know? The truth is I do like it here. I can’t explain it, but it feels like… I don’t know… like I’m home somehow.”
Oh, Flynn, baby…
What did they do to you?
WE’RE HAVING A WAR PARTY
Like before (only more aggravatingly so), the de-civs’ second offensive comes in the middle of the night. This time, however, the first blow is announced by the telltale whump of a pulse explosion.
Leaping out of the bed, Koko has her pants and boots on before Flynn even has a chance to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Flynn, get up! We’re under attack!”
“What?”
Koko tugs her kurta tunic down over her head. “Get dressed, I need you.”
And boom—like that, she’s out of the room.
Gone.
On her way out the door, Koko snatches up her wooden battle staff. Ripping down the hallway, she raps the staff on the walls to sound the alarm.
“Everybody up now! De-civs! I repeat, de-civs in the perimeter! The Commonage is under attack!”
After the events of the previous night, Koko fully expects a mad spill of Commonagers marshaling behind her, but sadly this is not the case. The ones who do materialize in cracked doorways are terrified. Koko can’t wait for them. When she reaches the stairwell, she drops down the steps, pouncing from one landing to the next like a leopard, until she reaches the bottom and throws herself out Lodge Delta’s doors.
Once outside, it’s painfully obvious who has the upper hand as the de-civs have doubled their numbers. Men, women, and even de-civ children are everywhere running amok; many of the marauders have torches and set fire to whatever they can. Few if any of the Commonagers attempt to stop them. When she sees Pelham across the courtyard tackling a de-civ trying to set fire to a trellis, Koko feels a brief throb of hope. The de-civ gets up and throttles Pelham’s neck, but Pelham slaps the man’s hands away and wrestles him to the ground again.
Muscle memory from t’ai chi. Maybe later Koko will compliment Pelham on her moves, but right now she’s busy. As she sweeps the grounds for a target, a sharp pain bites Koko in the back of her head and looking down she sees a crooked wedge of rock in the grass. She sights the thrower: a boy transfixed fifteen meters off to her right. Koko promptly picks up the rock and flings it back at the boy. Clipping his knee, the boy drops with a yowl.
Behind Koko the doors to Lodge Delta bang open, and Flynn, half dressed in boots and pants, quickly gimps over to her side. Dabbing her fingers on the back of her head, Koko’s fingertips come away scarlet and wet.
“What’s happening?”
Koko grits her teeth. “Take out as many as you can.”
Before Flynn can respond, Koko is off again, slaloming, running, and leaping through the fracas. She keeps wondering where the rest of the Commonagers are because the whole situation is deteriorating into a five-alarm mess.
A pulse explosion? Where the hell did these de-civs get explosives?
Beyond the administration building, the geodesic agriculture tents and livestock pens blaze. The petrified ensemble of animal cries is awful and sprinting toward the area Koko wields her battle staff in wide, debilitating arcs. A de-civ woman cradling a sheep runs past her, and Koko splinters the woman’s shin. Using the battle staff, she follows through with a secondary swing and splits the woman’s face. The sheep bounds away across the grounds just as a spear plugs the ground at Koko’s feet.
Another de-civ, a man, steps out of the tunnel and readies to throw a second spear. Flynn lopes toward him and the man steps back. Flynn yanks the spear from the de-civ’s grasp before he can throw, and when Flynn looks back at Koko she makes repeating stabbing motions. Flynn tosses the spear aside.
“This is what we’ve been reduced to?!” he yells. “Sticks and stones?!”
“Flynn! Look out! Behind you!”
From the smoky darkness and at speed, two de-civ children jump Flynn as the spear-thrower gets up. The two children pull at Flynn’s flesh like rabid monkeys and the spear-thrower punches Flynn in the stomach. With his weakened leg and the blow, it takes little effort for the three to drag Flynn down like a roped calf.
Flynn covers up as best he can, but the de-civs pummel him. When the spear-thrower sees Koko rushing over, he warns the two children and all three take off. Koko skids and drops to Flynn’s side.
“Are you okay?”
Flynn’s forehead is gashed and his eye bandage has been torn off.
“Those were kids!”
“Not exactly a fair fight, is it?”
Koko helps him to his feet, and they push their backs together and circle. Koko points to a nearby apple tree with her battle staff and they dash for it. Outside the administration building, a few Commonagers—including Sébastien, of all people—have now finally appeared. A second explosion bursts on the opposite end of the compound, and Koko notices that the twins have joined the fight. But then a de-civ woman splashes some kind of accelerant on Bonn and Eirik and—WHOOSH!—the two brothers go up in tandem, screaming flames.
“Oh God, what do we do?” Flynn cries.
“They’re setting fires to increase hysteria.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“They must�
�ve blown the tunnel gate’s fortifications. This is why they probed the Commonage before, to see if we were ready to defend ourselves from a second assault.”
“Oh, so it’s ‘we’ now, is it?”
“Now’s so not the fucking time, Flynn.”
Flynn wipes some blood from his face. He touches his swollen eye and then squinting he scans the walls. A terrible, familiar shape moves fast along the allure up top, and his jaw drops.
“Koko?”
“What?”
“I think we’ve got a problem.”
* * *
With the Sig in a two-handed downward-pointed grip, Wire hustles for a protective section along the top of the allure. Reaching it, she is pleased to discover the blockish architectural highlight bookends an open staircase that empties out into the greater compound area below.
In her half-compromised vision, she sees despite her instructions that the de-civs are already screwing everything up big time, and the raid is turning into a major-league Charlie Foxtrot. Breaking and smashing useful things, setting fire to structures willy-nilly—Wire specifically told them to torch the residential structures only, to draw out the occupants, and now they’re setting fire to everything in sight.
No matter. Wire crouches behind the protective section and surveys the grounds. Botched instructions notwithstanding, within seconds what Wire hoped for actually materializes. Maybe seventy meters off from her position, Martstellar and that Flynn bastard are hiding behind an apple tree.
Wire sets up fast. Under normal circumstances her marksmanship is grade A-plus, but with her ocular being fried she reminds herself to compensate and stabilizes her forearms on the protective section. Taking a deep breath, she aims and eases her breath out.
Do it.
Take the shot.
* * *
Koko jerks her head.
“Where?”
As the bounty agent braces herself atop the staircase, Flynn throws an arm around Koko’s shoulders and pulls her to his bare chest just as the impact of three quick, consecutive pulse rounds blister the apple tree on the opposite side. A follow up pulse blast rips the battle staff from Koko’s hand.