by R. K. Thorne
“So you want a tour guide or something?” she said.
“What?” He hadn’t been paying attention.
“You got questions about this place, Adan?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Good. It’ll give me something to do.”
“Uh, okay. Why’s it called Capital, when it’s not the capital of anything?”
“Some of the Movers who founded this place were very ambitious. And egotistical. The rest were Buddhist monks. Makes for a weird combination. You’ll see. Next question.”
“Um. What’s the deal with these docks?” He waved a hand up and behind him.
“This is the Edern Docking Port.”
“Why’s it go so high up in the air?”
“For efficiency. And because horizontal space is at a premium on Capital. Land itself is the greatest luxury. If we wanted to have a patch of land just for our ship, I imagine the cost would be astronomical.”
He frowned. “But those parks…”
“Some of them are government-controlled land. No better way for them to invest, i.e., hog valuable assets. Most of them are not open to the public, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Land is the greatest luxury. That includes trees. Why do you think so many of the buildings are brimming with them? Everything is made into a symbol of status here—or of your lack thereof.”
“Do those championships pay well, for all that travel?”
“Huh? Oh, not exactly, but the sponsors pay decently. Climbing is a pretty popular sport here on Capital. Guess it helps to have vertical exercise options with all the tall buildings, I don’t know. The trips usually paid for themselves and a little more to live on for later.”
They rounded a third flight of stairs, and suddenly it seemed to dawn on Adan that this was only going to keep going.
And going. And going.
“Wait a minute,” Adan said. “Is it stairs all the way down? This entire way? No elevator or tube or anything?”
“Only if you have a medical reason to need it.” Jenny smiled. ”Or sufficient credits.”
“Why do you think I’m carrying our luggage?” Ryu called from behind them. Jenny winced a little. Hadn’t realized the commander was listening.
“Because we don’t have sufficient credits?” Adan grinned.
Jenny laughed in spite of herself. As if. The Foundation most certainly had the credits. But there were much better things to spend them on.
“Well, it’s not because I’m the newbie.”
At that, Kael grabbed the tractor out of her hand. Jenny thought she caught a trace of a smile behind a partially darkened visor. “Let me take that,” he said. “I am the newbie.”
“Do you even need that?”
“No. But no sense wasting energy.”
Jenny tore her eyes away. God, she’d give a hundred climbing trophies to see him “accidentally” ram that floating pile of armor cases and bags into Josana’s knee.
Jenny and Adan slowly pulled ahead, as maneuvering the tractor was not entirely simple in the narrow grated stairwells, and Adan seemed to be in a hurry.
“So… I didn’t hear your answer. What did you mean, only for some?”
Jenny shrugged. She was tired of bickering about this place, and she especially didn’t want to do it with him. “Josana has her opinions. I have mine. Maybe you should ask her.”
“I heard hers. I’m asking you.”
“This is paradise if you have the money, the status. The right paperwork.”
His eyebrows rose at that last one. “Ah. Yes.”
“But much more often it’s about status.”
“Well, where isn’t it about status? Isn’t that what military rank is all about? Everyone cares about that.”
“That’s different.” Neither she nor Adan had served in the military outside of this outfit, but he chose the oddest times to remind her of that. He’d been a commercial pilot, sort of. For bandits, basically. As a pilot, he was more isolated from the rest of the team on the Audacity, especially when it came to day-to-day duties. “Rank is about the chain of command. It’s about working your way up, about coordination and responsibility on the team. Duty. Here status is about what favors you can pull. Who you know. How much money you can plunk down. Look, I’m not saying that doesn’t happen in the armed forces. But it makes me sick how much it happens here.”
“So you’re saying you don’t care about status?”
“I don’t. Definitely not the way they do here.”
“Why did you compete, then, if not for status?” He smiled.
She took a deep breath, trying to let the venom drain away before answering. “Wanting to win is not necessarily the same thing as wanting status. Sometimes it’s personal. I like bettering my record. I’m competitive. But not just so somebody will like me. It’s for me. But I don’t expect Josana would understand that.”
“Ah,” he said slowly. What the hell did that mean? He seemed lost in thought.
“And I didn’t have a lot of choice about it,” she added hastily into the silence. What if he never asked her about this—or anything—again? “My parents required it. Mostly my father. My family is full of acclaimed athletes.”
“Really?”
“Really. Look, see?” She pointed at the white insignia on the sleeve of her shirt, UTLIS in clean, heavy letters.
“Is that… your name?”
“Yes. Well, my parents’ name. They have a whole clothing and accessory brand. And don’t even get me started on sporting goods. Jewelry. Holo training programs. The works.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I had no idea.”
“My father even froze himself in order to travel back to Earth to compete in the Olympics. The real Earth ones. Or, at least that’s his plan.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. It’s a stupid scheme. Even if he survives, even if they allow someone with his level of augmentation to compete in the future—and they don’t today—there’ll still have been two hundred years of technological advancement. Those future athletes are going to leave him in the dust. Er, powder. He’s primarily a competitive skier. Assuming they still have snow on Earth then.” There hadn’t been much when the first Mover ships had begun to leave Earth, but propaganda said it was better there now. Hard to say if what news they received over the light-years was really true or heavily edited.
“A skier. And he raised you here?”
“Oh, yes. There are plenty of indoor and underground mountains for skiing. It’s a common pastime, nice break from the heat.”
Now both his eyebrows just stayed raised. “That’s… extravagant.”
“Yep.”
“Wait—you said he froze himself. Does that mean you’re never going to see him again?”
She drooped a little in spite of herself. Telling herself she didn’t care was harder than convincing herself not to. “You are correct.”
“That’s awful. Didn’t you want to go with him?”
“What, on that fool-brained scheme? No way. I have every intention of living my life right now. The right way. On my terms.”
“But… won’t you miss him?”
She said nothing for a long moment. The truth seemed too callous to admit. Finally she let out a long sigh. “Rub it in, why don’t you, Adan?”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“Want to throw a little salt on the wound? Lemon? Season the treat while you’re at it.”
He said nothing for a long moment. His voice was softer when he spoke again. “I lost my mother in the civil wars back on Bantilla. If I could have a chance to see her again, or to have stayed by her side…”
Her anger melted. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She glanced out at the city, groping for words. Only a dozen or so more flights to the bottom. “I… my relationship with my father wasn’t like that. It was complicated. I never wanted to compete.”
“And yet—you’re a legend.”
“Exactly. What I wanted didn’t matter to him. I was a walking sack of genes. He even told me once how he’d wanted to engineer me to be a boy, but my mother drew the line and wouldn’t let him. Wanted to conceive the usual way.”
“Old-fashioned?”
“Lazy, I think? I don’t know. She only carried me for a few months before she got bored and annoyed with how it was getting in the way of her career. Then it was off to the uterine chamber for me.”
“Wow. Evicted early.” He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe the perpetual amazement off of it. “This place is… different than I thought.”
“It takes time for your eyes to adjust to see the shadows,” she said softly, staring at her boots. She forced her head up, straightened. She needed to keep an eye out for hostiles, not be gazing at her navel, even in places like Capital. Even she who knew better could be lulled by its illusion of peace and safety. “So my father and I were never on good terms, and it got worse once I left and joined Commander Ryu on the Audacity.”
“Why?”
“He said I was abandoning my career. He was right about that. But I was at a point where I could win all the nonaugmented competitions I bothered to enter. He’d reached that point too. Many do, and then they enter the next arena, redesigning their bodies for better and better performance, employing their own engineers and scientists to develop tech no one else has, to put them at the absolute top of their game.”
“You didn’t want to go there?”
She shrugged. “Seems more like car racing than athletics at that point to me. Who’s got the most tricked-out chassis? Who can afford it, if we’re being honest? But also it was never really my career. It was his career, continued.”
Silence for a long moment. Only their boots on the metal grating, the screeching of wary birds from a nearby nest as they reached the highest treetops.
“I can see why you didn’t go to Earth then.”
“I do miss him.” She gritted her teeth, hating to admit it. “I would have liked to have convinced him that this—my real career, my first career—was better. More meaningful. At least to me. As long as he was here, there was a chance I could have changed his mind.”
“And now…”
“And now there’s not. Unless I live to be three hundred.” She shrugged helplessly.
“Hey, you never know.” He gave her a crooked smile.
She wanted to debate that point, but he was right. She was young. She couldn’t know how time would change how she felt about some things, like if it’d be worth trying harder to live to three hundred. Or freezing herself. Or hiring a mercenary ship to chase down her dad’s frozen corpse and blow it up.
They’d reached the bottom, and she led the way across the bridge to Appellate 481 as they talked. The delicate white arms of the bridge arched over their heads like the rib bones of some giant dead animal.
Loud speakers blared at them above huge industrial filters three stories high. “Welcome to Capital. The air quality today is level turquoise. No contaminants, viruses, or other foreign agents are detected. Pollen management is active. Filters are active. Remember, Capital air is extremely safe to breathe. Breathers are not necessary. Genoterrorists will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Welcome to Capital! The air quality today is turquoise…”
They’d barely gone two blocks into the city before she heard a cry.
“I know that face! Well, the Movers be damned. Aliandaranda—get over here.” A little of the pep in Jenny’s step returned as a group of girls just about her age rushed at them from the corner. “This way. Now. I need a picture!” The leader—the one who’d spoken—wore a shocking orange plasticky dress that cut off surprisingly high up her thighs and had very tiny orange fish swimming through the fabric. The blond with the trendy name as long as a jungle snake was arm in arm with the leader and wore something more akin to traditional Capital robes, although with a belt of glowing silver. The third was black haired, black lipped, and black eyed, without even the whites of her eyes showing—and significantly less enthusiastic than the other two. Was that a mod or an augmentation or just contacts or—no, on second thought, Jenny didn’t want to know.
And she didn’t have much more time to analyze anyway, as the leader with her brunette bob and orange dress was quickly in Jenny’s face. Orange lips, too. Matchy-matchy must be on trend this week. “I saw you in that three-hundred-meter free climb—the one where you broke the record—”
“Well, I saw you twice—” The blond cut in, nudging the leader aside.
“Hey, you there.” Orange Dress wiggled and then snapped her fingers in Adan’s face. His eyes widened. “Let’s go. Picture. We don’t want to waste Ms. Utlis’s time.”
Amused, Adan took the tablet that was shoved vigorously into his hands. He backed away a few feet and snapped some pictures.
“Amazing work, boyo,” said the blond, swiping through his results to check.
“Well if I can take video with a drone, I sure as hell should be able to—”
“You what?” Blondie tilted her head and frowned.
Adan looked like he was struggling not to roll his eyes. Well at least Jenny had no competition in that department.
“And now,” Orange Dress declared, “we owe you a mangabrew.”
“A what?” said Adan.
Now Blondie looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. “You haven’t had? Well, then you definitely need a mangabrew.”
Orange Dress had never really let go of Jenny, which was somewhat starting to freak her out, and now Blondie deigned to grab Adan by the arm and shuffle the group of them up the street. Hmm, maybe she shouldn’t count the girl out so soon. A call sounded in the distance behind them, likely just street noise. A lander screeched past them, leaving clouds of steam in its wake, and then they all crossed to the next block.
“Is there anywhere that just serves coffee?” Jenny eyed the mangabrew shop warily as they approached. The sign illustrated a squid shooting ink into a red bowl.
“Oh, you don’t want that.” Orange Dress shook her head, her perfect bob barely moving. “Mangabrew is the absolute zenith, Utlis. You’ve got to try it.”
Jenny tried not to laugh at the odd mix of presumed friendliness and formality. The woman didn’t call her Jenny, oh no, but she had to make it seem like they were at least a little friendly somehow. “Oh, we definitely will try it. But my friend just flew us here, and we’re a bit worn out.”
“Oh…” The blond one squeezed Adan’s arm closer to her side and smiled up at him. “You didn’t mention your friend was a pilot.”
Her companion leaned in and cupped a hand toward Jenny’s ear. “Think she’s looking for a pilot to take her to the zenith, if you know what I mean.”
Something in Jenny’s face must have given her true feelings away, some small zing of hurt or jealousy in the eyes, because Orange Dress’s eyes widened. “Silieantrana, I think Utlis’s friend needs some coffee. Come on.”
With Jenny blushing and searching for words to correct the mistake, Orange Dress dragged her farther down the street, Adan and the other two in her wake.
Fortunately, Orange Dress had the good sense to take off after the coffees were acquired. Jenny was still eying the biological readout on the coffee on the public meter and checking it hadn’t been tampered with. It at least seemed safe to take a sip… God, she would have preferred armor. There was no telling if this “coffee” was the usual decaf stuff or some other concoction masquerading as the good stuff. Whatever.
The three of them were already fluttering down the next street before she’d even managed a sip, Orange Dress burbling happiness all the way. “Wait until we tell Sarlano that the queen of climbing is in town. And we had coffee with her. And he didn’t.”
Adan stared after them, then took a sip as if he hoped it would help him recover. “But… we didn’t have coffee with them.”
Jenny snorted. “Things are different here. By their rules, we did.”
“They didn’t even buy anything for themselves. Or say anything. Or even ask you anything.”
“They plunked down the money to get the bragging rights. We’re too far apart in status and acquaintance for them to also ask for the time. Polite girls, really.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Smart not to push it. This way I might actually give them the time if I ever run into them again.”
“But you… I… you, uh…”
“Hardly know them? Yeah.”
“So why would you bother to talk to them now or next time? It’s like they’re buying access.”
“Yeah, sorta. I might bother because they’ve shown social dexterity. Respect. An astute knowledge of hierarchy and status.” She let her voice lilt on the last words, in imitation of the girl’s slangy intonations—and Josana’s to some extent. “Personally I prefer to make friends with people who seem authentic or clever. But this is the way the system works here. You know, giving you a tour of your new prospective homeland.”
Adan opened his mouth as if he were going to ask something more, but they’d delayed long enough that the other three caught up.
“Done being legendary, Corporal?” Ryu stopped and lightened her visor.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” Jenny raised the coffee in an informal salute.
“If anyone’s sorry, it’s me.” Ryu’s eyes twinkled. “Stay closer, will ya? We were worried we were about to lose you. Let’s move out.”
“Coffee?” Josana asked as they began walking. “How passé.”
“There was a mangabrew shop a block that way,” Adan offered.
“Is that what those girls were drinking?”
He nodded. “Yep. Add it to your to-do list.”
More blocks passed in silence as the whole group eyed the buildings and shops around them now. And the crowd. They passed food stores hawking all manner of foods, both familiar and exotic. A new trend toward crunchy and nutty appeared to be taking off. The fashion boutiques were in another district, but there were some odd fabric shops, as well as tea and spice shops too. Some were styled to look ancient and traditional, like steps leading up to an old monastery of red mud with wind chimes hanging. Those sat right next to glowing feats of technology with spinning displays selling the latest improvements to the apple.