by V. S. Holmes
“Like, literally nothing,” she started to dismiss. But the long shadows in the train car the night of the shooting tripped her further protestation.
“When there is such a lack, sometimes we can see the picture based on the shape of the pieces missing.”
“Right. If I think of something, I’ll tell you. All I know right now is he’s the most approachable and kind person IDH has to offer. At least to me. He’s the reason I’m down here at all.”
“I see. And IDH in general?”
She frowned, remembering the heat of Reaper explosions on her face, the sharp debris under her hands. “The kidnappings—Reapers? They think it’s you. Los Pobladores. Alkhalaaq. Or Harris does, at least.”
“And you?”
“I think IDH made a mess and doesn’t want to spend the time to clean it up.” She frowned. “Why are you curious about him?”
Emilio shrugged, sitting back to disengage. “Because the shape of the missing pieces looks familiar.”
“Right.” She finished her drink and gestured to the space between them. “I’m grateful for this, Emilio. This alliance. Or truce. Friendship?”
“Cooperation.” He returned her smile and drained his glass.
FOURTEEN
Sticky blood coated her hands, smearing with soil. Nel wiped them against her canvas shorts again, only to find her thighs were naked. Goosebumps rose in the chill of the Atacama night.
“Dammit,” she hissed, stumbling down into the consuming darkness of the cave. She had forgotten something here. Left something. And now her feet and hands were raw from her hike here. That must explain the blood. She navigated by sound, like she had on the corridors, when the moon was too dim to guide her. Now, again, she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of sky beyond the swaddling clouds.
A stumble sent her careening through the cave’s mouth. Her head cracked against the rocks. Scrambling fingers found not soil, not sand, but the dust of bones. She recognized the taste of stony, salty cremains. Outside, the winds of Samsara screamed in climax, in warning.
The train door clattered shut and Nel peeled her eyes open. Her nose was filled with the sweetness of fresh blood.
“Sorry,” Lin whispered, latching the door behind her. She was still dressed for work, and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed since their shared shower.
“S’ok, fell asleep reading articles,” Nel muttered, sitting up. “Think I was having a weird dream.”
“What about?”
“Can’t remember. Just the sound of screaming.” She pressed a hand to her temple, wincing at the tenderness in the delicate shell of bone. “What time is it? Where are we?”
“Just about dinner time.” Lin glanced out the window, as if a signpost might be glimpsed in the darkness speeding by. “And we’re on base outside of Alexandria.”
Nel had to hand it to IDH: they were efficient. Cairo flew past, followed by a flash of Tanta. With the gleaming smoothness of distance, everything seemed perfect. Untouched by a virus or killer soundwaves or violent kidnappings. Idyllic. Impossible. “We stopped?”
“Hopefully it’s our last one.”
“I thought we were going to The Hague too.” Nel rubbed the rest of her fitful sleep from her eyes. “Everything alright?”
It was a smile, though, not a frown, that replaced the distance in Lin’s eyes. “We made a breakthrough. In the research. Several of the frequencies found in the background of the Samsari audio were also, found fragmented in what we got off the Qena recordings during the attack.”
Nel’s heart hammered and she leaned forward. “Seriously? That’s fantastic! Why didn’t you say you were that close?”
Lin looked down. “I know it’s been hard for you, not being involved with that part of the project. I didn’t want to rub it in. Plus, we weren’t sure until we got Arnav’s latest report.”
Nel scrubbed the ghost of ashes from her hands. “Yeah, that info was pretty wild—did you see the part about the sand composition?”
Lin turned. “I wasn’t even on the clearance list for that.”
“Hey, I promised to play by the rules, but I doubt Phil did. He knows my interest in the project and probably just took pity on me being out of the loop.” Heaving a sigh, Nel swung her legs off the side of the bed and headed to the bathroom. “Win is a win, though. Did you compare them to what Gretta found in Paul and my coms?”
When Lin didn’t answer, Nel craned her neck from her seat on the toilet. “What’s wrong?”
“No one wants to touch anything from her drives. Teera volunteered to run comparisons, but until we have access to Alexandria’s senti-comp, the processing power would probably drain the entire train. That’s why it should be our last stop.”
“Gotcha. Still amazing, though.” She was washing her hands when the words finally caught up to her. “Wait a fucking minute—Alexandria has a senti-comp? Since when?”
“Past decade or so. She was shut down when the signals went out. We’re hoping with supervision we can power her back up to fix this mess.”
Perhaps it was the soft cocoon of sleep and night, but for a moment, saving the world actually seemed plausible. “So does this mean you might have some time off once we get there? I know your giant brain is indispensable, but surely they’ll relinquish you for one evening, at least.”
Lin rolled her eyes, sitting at their tiny table. “Like you were ever good at not working.”
“I dunno. I think if there’s one thing I’m known for it’s my beer consumption,” Nel speculated. A bubble of warmth burst in her stomach at the smile in the other woman’s eyes when they settled on her.
“I’ll think about it, promise.” Lin stretched with a long, wide yawn. “I’m going to try to take a nap. There’s a briefing this afternoon for the main staff, sorry—promise I’ll tell you everything, though.”
Nel waved it away. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m up for sitting and staring at information I only half recognize surrounded by people who don’t like me.”
The letnan caught Nel’s hand as she headed to the narrow closet. “I like you. More than a little.”
Heat flooded Nel’s throat and cheeks. “You too. Is it alright if I poke around the base a bit, let you rest? Can’t kick this headache and could use a change of scene.”
Lin nodded, tilted her chin up to ask for a kiss. Nel obliged, dropping an extra one on the woman’s brow before tugging on her electrosuit and slipping out.
The train was quiet, its main power dropped to a low buzz. She hoped to see the city as they arrived, but a glance out the windows told her they were in a tunnel or hanger of sorts, the walls a matte, corrugated material. She cut up through the train to the main exit off the general lounge car.
A deserted platform greeted her, the walls a strange combination of Egypt’s limestone and the modern modular walls. Here, too, cheery, bubble-lettered signs in Arabic, French, and English reminded her to stay socially distant, to keep a mask on. She reached out, fingering the words. Like Gussy’s music, it was a bubblegum version of the apocalypse. The thought of not touching other people, of walking the streets fearing everyone you passed made her heart ache. No wonder they welcomed IDH with open arms. She had welcomed them for less—a legal pardon and a cute face.
Like in Qena, they had been sent general maps of this base and a cursory examination told her the main base—off-limits, still, until they entered as a team tomorrow—was mostly above them, and to the south. The high-speed rail terminated there. She peered closer at the glowing blue lines, dim in the bright fluorescence of the station. There. A corridor leading up and to the side, along the boundaries of the base. If there were walls, maybe she could get a view.
At the top of the stairs, however, a guard waited, splay-legged in a folding chair. His heavier elecrosuit was topped with a bulky vest and a turban. She didn’t recognize him from the train and raised a friendly hand. “Morning.”
He nodded, his electro-gl
oved hand relaxing slightly. “You one of IDH’s staff?”
“Yeah,” she half-lied. Spying the rectangular shape in his vest pocket, she continued. “Any chance I could pop out for a smoke? Haven’t had a chance since we got here.”
After a glance down the hall, his mouth quirked, and he jerked his head at the door. “Don’t wander, eh?”
“Thanks.” She flashed a winning smile and slipped out. It was a courtyard, skirting the front and sides of a hulking building. The front seemed to be some repurposed ancient stone structure, with the back half the austere IDH architecture. Balmy air billowed with the hot-salt scent of the sea. Somewhere a bird squawked, and the faint bustle of a city reached over the walls.
Nel frowned. The previous base had misled her. Alexandria’s was protected by three-story granite ramparts. A narrow walk ringed it, with guards at each corner. Coiled razor wire glinted along the top, angled to prevent anyone from crawling over from outside. Claustrophobia pressed on her temples. Well, IDH, are you trapped in here with me, or am I trapped in here with you?
Avoiding the guards and walking with purpose, she mounted the thin stone stairs. Early dawn light splashed gold across the yellow stone. Alexandria was smaller than Cairo, boasting the same seamless integration of modern high-rises and sun-bleached limestone monuments. Mud-brick buildings and cement-block apartments clustered along the outskirts. A distant voice arched from the mosques, calling for Salat Ul Fajr.
Leaving the base was probably not recommended, but her heart longed for the press of people and new streets to explore. And like there’s going to be anywhere we can actually cut loose on base. Already her mind was spinning with how they might slip past the stone and razor wire for the evening.
Another sea breeze tugged at her re-dyed hair. Rich turquoise banded the northern horizon, where the roads and buildings of Alexandria’s port jutted into the Mediterranean. Nel closed her eyes and lifted her face to the varied scents of earth.
*
“I know that face, and it spells trouble,” Lin insisted when she returned from her briefing that evening.
“Only a little bit of trouble,” Nel wheedled. “I promised to show you around Earth, we’ve both been stressed out the ass and finally have a night off.”
“But we’re not—”
“It’s Alexandria, not a war zone. It’s safe—I’ve got the route and the timing, and I know where we’ll be.” She slipped on her best smile, the one with the almost-lidded bedroom eyes. Her hand traced a line down Lin’s wrist to pause at the chip that held her credentials. “All we need is an officer’s keycard.”
“I don’t know.” Lin fingered the sleeve of her electrosuit.
The little curl at the corner of Lin’s mouth told Nel she had already won, but she stepped closer. “C’mon. You showed me your world. Let me show you mine.”
Lin’s swift, hard kiss ended the discussion and she snapped open her suitcase. “Give me ten minutes to find something else to wear?”
“However long you want. This is our night.” Nel had already discarded her own electromesh in favor of the rumpled cargos and a tank. Luckily Lin seemed as eager to have a night out, and in a matter of minutes they were slipping from their room. Lin led the way through the cars to the caboose. She flashed a smile at the guard there, but his expression did not relax.
“Hey,” Nel tried. “How’s the elbow?”
His expression relaxed a fraction and he showed her the offending limb. “Doing okay. Got an appointment for a replacement once we’re back on a station or ship. Can’t wait—the pain sucks.”
Nel’s stomach revolted at the thought of a replacement, her mind unable to picture it as anything more complex than popping bloody pieces off a Lego. “Glad you’re getting patched up,” she answered. “What about Dr. Mackey?”
His smile faltered into something more fragile, more genuine. “Alright. Went to our infirmary on base when we arrived this morning. Touch and go still, a bit.”
“Sorry to hear,” Nel offered. “Let us know if we can do anything?”
He nodded, and she stepped backwards off the caboose. “Gotta run, meeting up with someone who might have details. Lin let me tag along.”
Before he could ask for more, Nel was towing Lin through the dim station under the hulking base they glimpsed on their way in earlier. Excitement bordered on mania as they emerged onto a small causeway.
“That was clever,” Lin remarked, even her low voice echoing off the tiles.
Nel shrugged. “Being a head-first person usually works best for lies. Plus, all is fair in the pursuit of beer.”
Lin’s focus narrowed teasingly on the archaeologist. “I thought this was all about me getting to relax.”
“Beer is relaxing,” Nel insisted. Her steps slowed as they reached the barred side entrance to the base. They hadn’t been allowed out, though the missions scheduled for the next few days told her whatever safety protocol IDH had was implemented quickly. If not thoroughly, she thought, as Lin flashed her wrist to the scanner at the door.
The door swung open with a click and desert air eddied into the hall. Outside, with boots on stone and familiar stars scattered overhead, Nel tipped her face to the sky. “God, I missed the smell of this place.”
“I thought you said the forest was the same?”
“Yes and no.” Nel peered at her shoes. “It’s not even a smell, maybe. Just a sense. A feeling. Odyssey’s core smelled exactly like a forest. Perfectly. But it didn’t smell like a forest does on Earth. Just like all of you. You’re people, perfectly so. But you’re not anything like the people down here—the ones who were born here.”
“How so?” Lin asked. “Space doesn’t smell.”
“Exactly. You don’t have the stink of desperation. The clawing, begging, bartering. The grief of existence. You’re immaculate, calculating, brilliant and you don’t feel…mortal.”
Lin’s brows rose. “You’ve watched some of us die.”
“Yeah, I know, I had blood all over my hands from trying to piece Gretta’s throat together. But even that—motor oil covered my hands as much as blood. Because you’re all this well-maintained machine. Your ships, for fuck’s sake, they’re piloted by heads. It’s like you integrated. Completely.”
Lin scoffed, jaw tense. “You’re just lucky you never had to replace any body part.”
“I am! I am lucky! But down here we don’t get a healing pad and a vial of legal downers in our veins.” Nel drew a deep breath. Their conversation teetered on the line between discussion and disaster. “Smell it. Really. What is it?”
Lin sampled the air. “Smoke? Exhaust, I guess? Something spicy and warm?”
“Jungle, baking in the sun. Rain evaporating from the pavement—we have a whole word for it: petrichor.” Smoke. Consuming. It was hard to look at such devouring, destructive things as good. Where was the woman who marched in every environmental movement her university hosted?
A warm palm slipped into hers. “I promise, we are mortal,” Lin murmured. “We just have a different way of being. We don’t fear what’s coming. Once you’ve read about quantum theories, and our brains—”
“Let’s keep it to Earth physics for now, eh?” Nel suggested. “I think the senti-comps are my limit for weird science.”
Hands laced, they set off across the base. It was deserted, seemingly, but Nel caught sight of armored figures along the rooftops. The spiraled razor wire atop the fences was bright and shiny. Despite the bustle of the city beyond, the surrounding buildings were quiet. Anticipatory.
The weight of observation lifted from Nel’s shoulders as they slipped through the side gate and into Alexandria’s back streets. The day’s heat still lingered, emanating from the stone and steel of the city even as the chill of desert night sifted down from the indigo zenith. Walking the streets of a new city always stirred up strange nostalgia in Nel. A longing for history as varied and rich, one not stolen from the cultures her ancestors eng
ulfed. Perhaps Lin, alien everywhere here, felt the same walking upon the earth her ancestors forsook.
Nel tightened her grip on Lin’s hand. “If you were given the chance to live anywhere in your known universe, where would you choose?”
“Live?”
“Yeah. Like live, not visit. Most places are great to visit but maybe not stay.”
Lin frowned. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
“It’s an icebreaker, not a proposal,” Nel joked, before barreling forward in an attempt to bury the latter option. “So, where would you like to go right now—food? Drink? Dance?”
“Dance?” Lin’s eyes lit up.
“Nightclub it is.” Nel fished out the faded pamphlet she scrounged from the commissary where she had found someone willing to exchange her space-dollars for actual Egyptian pounds. She rattled off a few queer-friendly options until Lin stabbed the air with one finger.
“That one. Khafiin.” She flashed a smile, the kind that made heat pool in Nel’s belly, and her voice dropped to a silk-clad whisper. “It means secrets.”
Nel allowed herself to be drawn closer by Lin’s gravity. She couldn’t help herself, she never could. It didn’t matter how many secrets Lin kept from her, from everyone but the dark void of space. For now, this tiny slice of desert and purple sky and fading heat and even Nel herself was a shared secret.
Neon lights and the steady thump of music grew as they wound closer to the main strip. Khafiin was a narrow building, wedged between a grocer and an alley that Nel would bet money held its own share of secrets, probably of the intimate kind.
Lin led the way through the door, but Nel pulled them up short halfway through the door. A hand-lettered sign in Arabic, French, and English informed them:
SKYBORN PERMITTED ONLY WHEN ACCOMPANIED
Nel glanced at Lin’s back and the sign again before following her into the dark interior. She was used to bars where she couldn’t hold hands. Bars where if she talked up the wrong woman, she could end up dead. It wasn’t often gay bars fell under the same label.
A blacked-out hall led to the coat check. Nel handed over their cover with a flashed smile and Lin’s graceful Arabic thank you. Then they were winding through shisha smoke and up a set of spiraling stairs to the gleaming neon of the bar.