by Frost, E J
“Raped?” Erin scoffs. “She wasn’t raped. She gave it up. She put on a big show, then spread her legs and let them pull a train on her. Didn’t you, Kezzy?”
Kez glares pure murder at her sister, but she doesn’t deny it.
“It was only when their David came back for round two that she tried to run away and he nuked her back. What happened, Kez? Did you change your mind, honey?”
Kez tilts her head to the side. Considers the question for a moment before she responds. “Like you did with Jenker? One minute you were wriggling around on his lap and the next minute you were screaming for Ma. You were a great role-model, sis.”
Erin’s hand tightens on the Marie’s control pad; her knuckles bleach to the color of bone. “You didn’t need any example of how to be a slut. It must come naturally.”
“How would you know? You haven’t seen me since I was twelve. Was it Jenker, E? Or was it the guy before him, when you were nine, what was his name?”
“Neither,” Erin spits. “I kept my legs together. But you? The stories I’ve heard about you! You must have spread them for every rag-boy on Kuseros—”
“Girls,” I growl. I don’t know where the truth lies in any of this, but letting it go on will only tear Kez’s scars wide. “Enough.”
Kez drops her head until her dreadlocks hide her face, but Erin snarls at me. “Fuck off. You don’t tell me when it’s enough.”
I whip out a shiv and shove it up under her jaw before she has time to blink. Press the edge into that smooth honey skin. “Say that again.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to escape the sharp edge that’s drawing a bead of blood from her perfect throat. She holds my eyes. “I’ll kill you when this is done,” she whispers.
“Get in line.” I sit back. Tuck the shiv back into its sheath. “Apologize to Kez.”
“Fuck you.”
I nod at her right arm, which is behind her back. She’ll have her hand on a weapon. Probably a small pulse gun. “Draw that and we’ll see who’s faster.” There’s not really much question. She’s rusty. I had my blade to her throat before she had time to react. “Apologize to your sister.”
Her glacial glare shifts to Kez, who is staring between us out the front window. “I’m sorry, Kezzy, if the truth offended you.”
Kez rolls her eyes and says something too low for me to catch to Banks. Banks snickers and launches back into his patter. I wait until Kez responds, take in her tone, which sounds normal, before I say to Erin, “Now let’s hear a more important truth. Why didn’t you help your sister when she ran away from the foster home?”
Erin releases whatever weapon she’s clutching. Touches her fingertips to the line of blood on her neck. She licks a smear of blood off her fingers and smiles that feral smile at me. “Last man who cut me? I still have his balls in my jewelry box.”
“Yawn.” The thought actually makes my nuts clench. My balls have been threatened more times than I can remember, but the idea of a pair of fossilized balls nestled in a box somewhere gives me a little groin-hitch.
“I couldn’t risk being thrown out of the Academy,” she says. Her eyes return to the window and she leans back into the seat’s padding. Ignoring me.
So Kez was telling the truth. Her sister wouldn’t shelter her for even one night when she was homeless and alone at the age of eleven. That raises a host of other questions, but I don’t think I’m going to get anything else out of Erin. And I’m not sure I want to. Every answer she’s given me has come with a price tag, and the price is getting too high. I sit and watch the view for a few minutes until the industrial domes of Hot Sands appear on the horizon, then I rise and saunter back across the ship to sit next to Kez.
Chapter 21
Kez tucks the skimmer into a cove less than a klick north of Hot Sands. There are a few plaz and permacrete shacks scattered along the dunes that ring the cove, but no one comes out of them to wave, or warn us off, as the skimmer settles into the shallows.
Kez and I change silently into the shadow-suits that Shaker has provided. They’re a very light neopoly that I assume is waterproof. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Banks politely turns his back while we change. Erin doesn’t. She stares openly at me. I ignore her, but I’m amused when the little monster perks up at the sight of Kez’s sweet, bare tits. Let the venomous bitch get an eyeful of that.
I help Kez seal the back of her suit. Hold her mane of dreadlocks out of the way and run my fingertips over the nape of her neck before I let her hair swish back down. She looks up at me, that pale, uncertain stare. I draw her close and give her a long, deep kiss. Hold her loosely while she reaches around and seals up my suit. “Thanks, kitten.”
She gives me a smile. Still uncertain, but a little more solid, particularly after a second kiss.
She helps me unstrap the finboards. We wrestle a pair of them off the skimmer and into the water. They’re fucking unwieldy. Hope they’re easier to manage once we’re in the water.
We jump from the skimmer’s open hatch into the water of the cove. Land waist-deep. Cold sinks its teeth into my bones. The suit’s waterproof, but not thermal. As I watch, the suit slowly changes color from solid black to a rainbow of small swirls.
“Mercury,” Kez says, nodding at the purple swirls appearing across both our suits. “Really, really bad. A couple of rivers must feed into the sea around here. Try to keep your hands and face out of the water.”
“Great.” That’s not easy when we’re waist-deep in the toxic surf. And it’s going to be less easy if I fall off the board into the drink.
“This is why I stay on land.” Kez surveys the cove. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but I don’t see any sign of trouble. The water is fairly calm; the tide is no more than a gentle tug against my legs. In the shadow of the skimmer, out of the sun’s glare, the silver-green water is clear enough to see the bottom: rippled gray sand dotted with darker rocks. Nothing threatening. I know the bigger aquatic predators, orclas, spinefish and the tentacled tegli, can come in to shallow water, but there’s nothing here to attract them. The cove looks barren. “Leave surfing to idiots like Banks and the NoBos,” she muses.
She’s silent for a moment, staring across the water, then she looks at me. Her face is set, jaw hard, mouth compressed into a pink line. “I want to say something.”
I nod. This will be about the shit her sister was slinging. I don’t really care where the truth was in all of that, but if she needs to vent, I’ll let her get it off her chest.
“I’m not a slut.”
That’s what she’s worried about? I shake my head. “I never thought you were, kitten.”
“I just . . . what she said, it wasn’t like that. I know, I always say that, but this really wasn’t. I did . . . dance. Naked. It was a party. I wasn’t the only one. But I didn’t do what she said. I didn’t let anyone . . . I would never do that. I took my clothes off, that’s all. And if I was a dumb-ass for taking my clothes off at a NoBo party, I paid for it a thousand times over.”
If the scar on her back was the price, it’s too high, no matter what she did, however it happened. I don’t know what the truth of it is, and if Kez doesn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty, I’ll respect that. There are places in my past that I don’t want her poking around, either.
“I just want you to know, it wasn’t like she said . . .” She looks away across the waves to the dirty gray shimmer of Hot Sands, steadies the finboards with the flats of her hands, then looks at me again. “The way I’ve been with you . . . I thought you might believe her.”
“Thought we had trust,” I say slowly. Let each word sink in.
She looks up at me with those big eyes, bluer than the ocean. “We do.” The tension drains out of her and she smiles. “Yeah, we do. Are we good?”
“We’re good, kitten. Just one thing she said that interests me.”
“What?” She tilts her head.
“The naked dancing part. When do I get to see some of
that?”
She splashes me. She’s grinning. That’s better. I don’t want anything her bitch-sister said to hurt my kitten.
“I know what your sister was tryin’ to do,” I say. Give a dismissive flick of my head as I take one of the finboards from her. It’s nicely stable in the water. The teardrop-shaped board sits on top of the waves, bobbing a little. One fin sticks down a meter into the water and the other protrudes from the top of the board. “Only person I’m listening to about you is you, kitten. Now show me how to use this thing before we turn into prawns.”
Kez rotates the protruding fin ninety degrees. Small lights on the edge of the board flicker on. While the boards warm up, she says, “What you were saying to her, about me knowing you?” When I nod, she smiles. It’s not her big mischievous grin. This is secretive, sly and very sexy. “It’s not true. You’re . . . private. I get that. But I liked that you said it.”
“You know me better than anyone alive, kitten,” I say. Which is true. And for the first time in a decade, having someone know me so well doesn’t bother me. “Probably shouldn’t have said it, though. It just gave her an openin’.”
Kez shrugs. “She’d have found one sooner or later. Wounding me always was her favorite hobby.” The fins on the boards slide back to their original position. Kez grasps hers, tilting the wide end of the board back in the water. She gets a knee up on the edge of the board, and it slowly rights itself, lifting her out of the water.
I follow suit, letting the board carry me up and out of the toxic water. I kneel on the board for a moment, finding my balance. When Kez stands, taking a wide stance on the board, I follow her lead.
“Three speeds,” Kez tells me. She rotates the fin to a ten-degree angle and the board begins to glide across the waves. As she moves away from me, I can see that the board’s not actually in the water. It’s floating ten centimeters or so above the surface, held up by a pale rim of neg cells along the edge of the board. The bottom fin trails in the water, slicing through the waves like a dagger.
Below the surface, the board’s shadow ripples across the gray sand, and in its wake, a paler shadow follows, six tentacles wiggling like ribbons.
“Kez,” I growl. “There’s something in the water.”
She loops back to me. “That’s a thagni.” She nods at the wriggling shadow. “Juvenile tegli. The big ones will eat you. These are too little to do much more than nip. As long as you’re not bleeding, they shouldn’t be a problem. Keep moving, though. They tend to swarm and they’re a pain to scrape off the boards.”
I turn the fin on my board; hold on to the tip for balance as the board begins to move. The motion is smooth. The board responds easily as I shift my weight to change direction. I follow Kez as she loops around the skimmer in wide arcs. After I’ve gotten used to directing the board, she shows me the other two speeds and how to make sharper turns. There’s a rhythm to it that I eventually find. The coordination of body and board.
Finally, she pulls up next to the closed door of the skimmer. Banks, who has been watching through the skimmer’s rear window, waves at us. Erin has retreated into the shadowed interior. Probably recording another update for Tyng.
“You look solid,” Kez says. “How do you feel?”
Riding the little board feels anything but solid, but I nod. “I should be able to keep up.”
“You do everything well, don’t you?”
I lift an eyebrow at her. “You tell me.”
“No way,” she scoffs. “Your ego doesn’t need any more stroking.”
“Other parts do.” I check the chrono in my eye. Twenty-five minutes until we need to intercept the first bowship. If we’re gonna fuck, it’ll have to be a serious quickie, just like last time. I enjoy the occasional quickie, but I have plans for our next time together, which involve my finger and Kez’s tight little ass, so I’ll need some time to warm her up. Guess I’ll have to content myself with teasing her for now.
I glance at the top of the skimmer. Raise a speculative eyebrow. Kez’s big blues follow my line of sight. Her eyes widen until they’re almost round. She cocks her head to the side. Holds one hand out to frame a question. “Privacy? Low-flying birds? Sunburn?”
I growl, to keep from chuckling and giving the game away.
“Okay.” Kez throws up her free hand. “You know I’m not going to say no to you. But you’re on top. This is your idea so it’s your ass in the UV.”
I give in and chuckle. “Think they’d mind waiting while we go at it?”
She grins, getting the joke. “Oh, no, definitely not. Erin would probably vid it.” She rolls the door of the skimmer open and steps neatly from her board into the skimmer. Banks appears in the doorway and takes the finboard when Kez pulls it out of the water. She steps back so she’s not blocking the hatch and holds her hand out to me.
I take her hand and step across. The finboard wobbles as my weight shifts. Definitely not solid. I drag it in after me, pass it to Banks and reel Kez in until she’s pressed against my chest. Our wet shadow-suits squeak against each other. The sound echoes inside the little ship; Banks and Erin glance up sharply. Banks grins and goes back to stowing the finboards. Erin rolls her eyes disdainfully before snapping her amber specs back down over them.
“So that’s a massage, noodles, a naked dance, and a sunburn-free fuck you owe me,” I murmur to Kez. “You ever gonna pay up?”
She smiles up at me. Loops her arm around my neck with another high-pitched squeak. “You owe me a double-bag of the universe’s best flash. We’re even.”
“Not even close.” I chuckle. Take one of her dreadlocks and wrap it around my finger. I haven’t gotten to tie her to the bed with them. That’s something to look forward to. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. I’ll take the rear stick. You’re on the front stick with the transponder. You guide us in.”
She nods. Looks a little relieved that I haven’t asked her to take the main control. She’s a good flyer, a natural, but she’s still just a beginner, and shooting that hole will require some skill. “Aye-firmative.”
“Doubt we’ll be able to see what else’s under the ship until we get there. Could be in for a nasty surprise. So you see anything, even a shadow, you sing out.”
“What do we do if there’s a Mirrormen ship under there?” she asks. Her little face is serious.
Kill them all. “Whatever it takes.” I tug on her dread. “You’re my eyes up front. Keep talkin’ to me.”
“Does she ever stop?” Erin scoffs.
I ignore her and wave Banks into the opposite seat. “You two stay there. Keep your weight distributed. Let’s go.” I give Kez a final kiss. Release her. I don’t like letting her go. When I’m holding her, she’s safe. I know she can take care of herself. I know Tyng’s threat is distant. I know all that, and every instinct I have still screams at me whenever I let her go.
She doesn’t move away immediately. Stands looking up at me with a small smile. Maybe she’s thinking the same thing.
“Door,” she says.
Or not. She’s a practical woman, my kitten. I reach behind me, pull the hatch shut and move to the rear controls.
Kez takes her seat at the front of the skimmer, and plugs the little transponder into a socket in the palm-sized control console. The transponder begins to make a soft, regular ping.
“Any image?” I ask Kez. There’s a faint yellow glare on the front window, which could be the transponder, or could just be the angle of the Twins.
“Yup, I’ve got it,” Kez responds. “Three hundred degrees south-south-east.”
“Right.” I fire up the skimmer’s jets and swing the little craft in a wide arc around the cove. With Kez watching the front, I glance back at the shore as we shoot out through the sheltering rock promontories and towards the open ocean. Behind us, the dunes are quiet, empty. Ripples spread across the pale green water, tracing the path of our passage. The water swells and darkens more than the light wave action warrants. Not far from where the skimmer was r
esting, now a hundred yards to our rear, a dark fin breaks the surface for a moment.
Adult tegli, or maybe a juvenile orclas. Whatever it is, we quickly leave it behind.
The transponder keeps up its soft, steady pinging as we speed across the open water. It’s the only noise, other than the steady hum of the jets, inside the skimmer. No one talks. Kez leans forward over her stick, peering out the front window. Erin sinks back in her seat and keeps the amber spectacles down over her eyes. Banks watches Kez, one knee bouncing slightly.
I keep the throttle open, trusting Kez to tell me before we hit anything. We need to intercept the bowship just as it leaves the dock. The skimmer is a speedy little craft, but it’s no match for a bowship. If the bowship gets into the open water of the bay and begins to accelerate, no matter how hard I push the throttle, we’ll never catch it.
The first of the long black jetties that mark Hot Sands’ industrial port rises out of the water in front of the skimmer.
“Got it,” Kez says. “Third pier. Eighty degrees.” She extends her left hand.
“Hold on,” I tell Erin and Banks as I swing the skimmer to port. The skimmer banks sharply, helped by Kez leaning on the front controls. As we come around, the front window flares red-gold. We’re heading due east, into the sunset. I grit my teeth and squint into the brilliance.
“Kez?” I growl.
“Still got it. Third pier. Ten degrees north. Slow down. We’re going to overshoot it.”
I ease back on the throttle. Scan the choppy view of waves, the back of Kez’s head and the low band of the jetty for the bowship’s distinctive prongs. The setting suns are dazzling, but I finally find the upturned hand-shape of the bowship in the glare.