“It would mean leaving your family behind.”
“I’d be doing that eventually, anyway. Shipped off to another colony to become someone’s husband. Marrying a stranger.”
“Not if I stayed here.” I shook my head. “I couldn’t ask you to leave your roots, Akikai. I know how it feels.”
“You’re not asking me.” Leaning forward, he kissed me on the cheek. “I want to be with you. I can give up anything to do that. Anything.” He cupped his hands around my face, kissing me on the mouth.
I kissed him back. Despite everything, I’d missed him. And, I didn’t want to leave him behind, I realised. The realisation shocked tears from my eyes, turning our kiss salty. He pulled away, brushing the tears from my cheeks.
“Alright,” I said. “Alright, you can come with me. And, yes, I’ll promise to marry you.”
19
KIOTO
“You need to slow down, Kioto,” Achi said to me, as I walked back into the exchange. “He glanced at the clock above the screens. “It’s only an hour since your last job. You’re meant to rest after each one.”
“I’m not looking for a new job yet. I need a buyer. I’m carrying too many.”
“You need to be careful; you don’t want to risk topping out.” He smoothed his hair back. “I should be more careful; I shouldn’t have kept giving you jobs. I’m meant to look after you. Trouble is…” He cocked his head as he looked me up and down. “I suspect, if I refused you work, you’d just go to another exchange instead, wouldn’t you?”
“And you’d lose out on your cut.”
“It’s not about the money, Kioto. I look after my girls. I’ve told you that. Another exchange won’t look out for you like I can.” He held out his hand. “Cyber card.”
I passed it over to him. He touched it to the screen in the counter, and peered at the displayed information.
“Alright. Mhmm. Alright. Yes, I’ve got a few potentials. Would you have any objections to passing a memory onto a merchant?”
“You mean passing it onto one of their slaves?”
Achi grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
I shrugged. “I’d have a million objections, but beggars can’t be choosers, right? I don’t have a lot of choice.”
“That’s the attitude.” He grinned at me. “I will set these up for you.”
“For your usual commission, of course.”
He winked. “Honey, I have a business to run. Overheads.”
“Thanks, Achi.”
“Sit and have a coffee while you wait. Unless you want to have a lie down. We have some foldaway beds out the back.”
“Coffee will do me, thanks.”
I settled myself at a cafe table, dropping my head onto its cool surface. My brain was aching, my vision blurry, my stomach churning. I’d rested for little more than fifteen minutes after my last job, before walking back across the city.
A hand landed on my back, and a milky coffee was placed in front of me. I lifted my head.
“Thank you, Omoto,” I said to the waitress.
“Are you taking proper care of yourself, Kioto?” she asked, sitting opposite me.
“No,” I replied. “But I need the money.”
“Why so desperate?”
“I’m leaving Kagosaka.”
“To go where?”
I shrugged. “Anywhere. Nowhere.”
Omoto placed her hand over her heart. “Is it really that bad?”
“Worse.”
“What about this boy of yours?”
“Akikai.” I said his name with a smile. I couldn’t help it. “He says he wants to come with me.”
Omoto leant back in her chair, giving a low whistle. “That’s a big decision.”
“Yeah. But, it feels right. Scary, but right.”
Omoto glanced around the exchange. “We don’t get many Kagosaka traders in here. We’re on the wrong side of town. Believe it or not, most of our trade is with traders from Nagaporo or Kumonayo. They come for a week or so, do a load of jobs, and then go back home.” She laid her hand over mine. “But they always go back, Kioto. Because our roots are important.”
“Kagosaka isn’t my roots. Okaporo is, and that’s gone now. So, I guess I have no roots.”
“Then find somewhere that you can put some new ones down. You know where I’m from originally? Kanaoka. Miles away.”
“How did you end up here?”
She cocked her head towards Achi. “Love makes you do some crazy things. But, you know what? I am homesick every day. Even after all these years.”
“Do you go back there?”
“This place keeps us too busy. I’ve been a couple of times, but, honestly, it’s harder to leave every time, so I avoid it now.”
“But, you’re happy, right?”
She sighed. “Yes. But there’s always a small part of me that’s constantly longing. Some days, I barely notice it at all. Other days, it’s all I can think about. Just make sure you’re doing what’s right for you.”
I nodded. “I am. I’ve never felt so certain of anything.”
20
KIOTO
I spent more and more of my time in Kagosaka. Achi said to me one day “you may as well start working here, make something out of all the time you spend at my exchange.” And so, I began serving in the cafe, and helping behind the counter.
My time at the colony was spent with Akikai. The other Okaporo girls were receiving occasional lessons, but they were mostly left to their own devices, and most of them had started dating the Kagosaka boys.
Everyone was settling. Settling for half an education. Settling for a life in Kagosaka. While I dreamt of leaving.
Each night, I took my cyber card from my pocket, and slipped it inside my pillowcase. I fell asleep with my cheek against its hard edge, and woke up with its corner imprinted on my face. A daily reminder of what I wanted. A daily reminder not to simply forget and settle for a half-life here.
When I was with Akikai, it was too easy to forget.
“You’re such a dreamer,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. We’d returned to our cave, after a few days of kissing in the trees. But there had been nothing more than kissing. He hadn’t mentioned it, or given any indication of thinking about it at all.
“Dreaming of a better life,” I replied, turning towards his touch.
“As long as it includes me.”
I smiled. “My dreams always include you.”
“Good.” He kissed me. “That’s good.” He kissed me again.
“How much have we got now?”
I shook my head. “Maybe enough. I don’t know. How am I supposed to know how much is enough?” The pitch of my voice rose as it filled with panic.
“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s enough.” He smoothed my hair back with one hand, curling the other around my fingers. “When do you want to go?”
I looked up at him. “Let’s make it a birthday present.”
He reeled slightly. I saw him do it. “”Twelve days,” he whispered.
“Is it too soon?”
“It just becomes incredibly real when you put a date on it, don’t you think?”
I nodded. “Wonderfully real. Like there’s no stopping us.”
“Yes. Wonderfully and terrifyingly real. Am I allowed to feel both of those things at once?”
“Of course.”
“I hope it doesn’t take away any of your excitement.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m frightened too.”
“When will we go? In the middle of the night? Sneaking away unseen?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “We will leave in the middle of the day. Walking out of the colony with our heads held high.”
“As if we’re doing nothing wrong.”
“We are doing nothing wrong.”
“You know that they’ll try to stop us. I mean, I’m seventeen, I can leave if I want to. But you’ll only be fourteen. They can order you back. They can send the authorities afte
r you.”
I shook my head quickly. “They won’t bother. Trust me. They’ll be glad to see me go. Besides, I don’t belong to them. I don’t belong here.”
“Where will we go?”
“Kagosaka, to start with. Rent a room. I have commitments.”
“What commitments?”
I gave him a knowing smile. “I’ve been busy. And not just with extractions. I just have some things to wrap up. And some goodbyes to say. There are some people that I actually care about here.”
“What about Nahaya? Does she know you’re going?”
I looked out over the mountains, my eye following a flock of birds silhouetted against the bright clouds.
“We hardly speak anymore,” I said. “I’m honestly not even sure she’ll notice that I’m gone.”
“Of course she will, she’s your best friend.”
“She was. She only cares about Taka now.”
He leant back, his hands falling away from me. “To be fair, Kioto, you spend all of your time with me. Or in Kagosaka. Perhaps it’s time to reconnect with her. Spend some time with her before you go.”
“What’s the point?”
“You’ll regret it if you don’t. You know that. You don’t always have to burn bridges. You can make new ones, you know.”
I looked down at my hands. “You’re right.”
“Talk to her tonight. You don’t have to tell her your plans, just talk to her.”
It was already dark when I crept into the dorm that night. I could hear the symphony of deep, slumbering breaths. I crossed the room silently, my shoes dangling from my hand.
I looked down at Nahaya in her bed. She was curled up, her back curved towards me. She didn’t lift her head, but I knew that she was awake. I could hear her breath coming short and sharp. As if she was frightened. Or trying not to get caught crying.
“Nahaya,” I whispered.
She didn’t move. I crouched down, reaching out my hand, but not quite touching her.
“Nahaya,” I whispered again.
She didn’t move. I began to doubt myself; perhaps she was asleep, after all.
I touched her shoulder, holding it under my hand for a moment, and then I tugged, turning her towards me.
Her face was grey in the moonlight that spilt in the windows. I reached out, gently touching her cheek. It was wet. Slick with tears.
She pushed her hands out towards me, taking hold of my arms, and pulling me into her bed. We lay together in the darkness, the blanket tugged up over our heads.
In the cocoon, I couldn’t see her face at all. Just a smudge in the black. I felt for her hands, lifting them to my lips.
“Nahaya,” I said.
“Kioto,” she replied. “Are you leaving me?”
“I’m leaving Kagosaka, but I don’t want to leave you behind. Come with me. Leave with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You don’t belong here anymore than I do.”
“I’m bound here now.”
“Because of Taka?”
She sighed. “We’re getting married. I’m going to be his wife.”
“No, Nahaya. Don’t do it. You deserve so much better.”
She started to cry again. “I know,” she said between sobs. “I know, but I don’t have a choice now.”
“You do. Come with me.”
“I can’t, Kioto. I’m pregnant.”
21
KIOTO
I ran my eyes over the screens behind the counters. Watching. I’d become quite adept at reading them, although they still reeled too fast for me. But, I understood them. I knew most of the district codes, and the shorthand for the kind of client. Most importantly, I could read the level of pay. That was where my eye focussed, the rest of the information was secondary.
“What about that one?” I asked, pointing.
Following the line of my finger, Achi reached out to touch the screen. “That one?”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, Kioto, you don’t want that one.”
“Look at the pay level.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s more to a job than the money. And, trust me, you do not want this job.”
“I’ll take it.” I pulled out my cyber card and held it over the screen on the counter.
Achi folded his arms, refusing to send the job through.
“You can’t decide for me,” I said. “I’m a paying customer. It’s up to me what jobs I take.”
“And I’m looking after you, as my ‘paying customer’. I’m also looking after my own business interests. If you take this job, believe me, you might not even come back from it, and then I lose out on future commission. Now, that wouldn’t be a particularly smart business decision, would it?”
“Don’t be stupid. I’ll be fine.”
Achi leant over the counter towards me, glancing up at the few traders in the cafe before speaking. “Kioto, people are beginning to talk about you, and not in a nice way. You’re getting a reputation for doing the scummy jobs. Some of them are borderline rip jobs.”
“I’m not a ripper,” I replied, my teeth gritted together tightly.
“I know you’re not, but you’re beginning to get a reputation for being one. Reputations are hard to come back from. Kioto, you’re one of my top girls here, you can have your pick of the jobs now. You don’t have to go for all the low down ones anymore.”
“But they pay better.”
“Because no one else wants them.”
“Because they’re fussy.”
“No, Kioto, because they’re smart. Because they don’t want to put themselves in unnecessary danger, and because they have morals and codes of practice that they stick to rigidly.”
I shrugged. “I need the money. I don’t have a choice.”
“Do you? Really? When you fist walked in here, you had a purpose. I could see it. You had a fire in your belly, and a determined look that told me you would do what you wanted, no matter what anyone else said. Over the past few months, I’ve watched that fire go out. And it’s been replaced by some kind of emptiness. I don’t know what’s still driving you, Kioto, but it’s certainly not the same passion that made you first come here.”
“Yeah, well, plans change.”
“They must have changed a lot.”
“They have, alright?” I snapped. I sighed, spreading my fingers out on the counter. “I have other people to think about now. It’s not just me escaping Kagosaka. There’s me, and someone else, and…” I drifted off as Nahaya’s name caught in my throat. I tried to swallow it back down, but it stubbornly remained, choking me with guilt and responsibility.
“You have to think of yourself first. Despite everything,” Achi said.
“I can’t.”
“You’re no good to them if something bad happens to you.”
I looked up at him. Annoyingly, he was right. I could see the job just past his right ear.
I jumped at a crashing sound in the kitchen; cutlery and crockery sliding to the floor, smashing.
Achi looked up. “Uh oh. Hold on, this conversation isn’t over.” He slipped out from behind the counter, and ran to the kitchen.
I watched him disappear, and looked back at the job on the screen. It had started flashing; which meant that someone was holding it. It was still up for grabs, but only by someone who was willing to steal a job out from under someone else’s nose. Someone who was willing to race across the city to try and be the first person there. Somebody who was desperate.
I glanced at the kitchen door, and stepped behind the counter. Holding my cyber card over the counter screen, I swiped at the job. It didn’t move.
“Dammit,” I said, looking at my fingers. “No implants.” The screens only worked with the tiny, electronic implants that were embedded under the skin of the thumb and forefinger. Lobayans had such implants installed just a few days after being born, but traders were excluded from that network. We were stuck with ancient technology in the way of handhelds. O
f course, there were less scrupulous people who would install implants for traders, but they would likely be low-grade versions, liable to problems. And most traders didn’t want implants anyway. They enjoyed their lives on the fringe of society. Thinking of themselves as separate, and superior, to Lobayans. Even though the Lobayans, in return, treated traders like dirt.
I looked up at the kitchen door again. I could hear Achi laughing. I searched around behind the counter, looking for an enabled pen that worked in lieu of implants. I pulled out drawers, digging through the mess of papers, and stationery, and things I didn’t even recognise.
My fingers finally found a pen, spinning it against the side of the drawer. I looked up at the kitchen again. Achi and Omoto were talking inside. I grabbed the pen, and swiped the job clear from the screen, loading it onto my cyber card.
Achi had backed up to the doorway, I could see him now. If he turned around, he would see me. I slipped my cyber card into my pocket, and crossed the exchange in just a few steps, wincing as the small bell above the door jingled accusingly.
22
KIOTO
When I arrived at the address, I could understand why Achi had tried to protect me from it. It wasn’t what I was expecting to find, and that fact made it all the more sinister. Every instinct I had was telling me to turn around, but, somehow, I just couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t obey.
The long, winding drive that led to the house, was tightly tree-lined. The moment I stepped through the gates, the world behind me was blotted out. It was like stepping into a gullet. Being swallowed.
No one could see me. I doubted if they would hear me if I screamed, either.
When the driveway reached the house, it opened up into a turning circle, the space dominated by a large fountain. The water lay still in the tiered bowls; unmoving and stagnant. Green algae clung to the edges in a slick, slimy coating.
The house itself was huge. Four large pillars fronted it, with steps rising up between them. The front door was twice my height, flanked by even taller windows on either side. But everything was grimy, flaking, cracking. Whatever money had been used to originally build the place, it had dried up long ago.
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