the bags that looked to the world like she had a huge wardrobe. The ceramic wheels moved the platform easily, and Asher needed very little energy to pull it.
Outside, Tarris touched her wrist computer and sent out a signal for a taxi. Moments later, the checkered vehicle pulled up to the curb and waited for them. Asher went around to the back of the vehicle with her trolley while the baggage platform emerged from the bottom of the cab. She pushed the trolley onto it but didn't wait to see the platform disappear back up into the metal compartment.
Tarris got into the taxi. She smoothly touched the pads that would collapse the hydraulic joints to make it possible for her to sit. Was this foolhardy charade worth the risk of them both dying so she had a chance of walking again? Sadly, there was only one answer as far as she was concerned. Yes.
* * *
Tarris hesitated outside the door to her apartment.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… everything.” How could she explain this? “I don’t know if I can do this.” She flinched when Asher's hand touched her own.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. Fear makes you weak, it makes you slow, and it will eventually kill you, so it’s not a matter of being afraid.” Tarris feared very little, of that she was sure. “It’s more… more…” What did she want to say? “I suppose it’s a matter of losing my independence.” Did she truly believe that? Maybe she was a little afraid of letting someone in, and somehow she had a feeling this woman would be the one to do it.
Rule Eight in her Survival Handbook: Don’t let your enemies see your emotion; it leaves you open to attack.
Asher gave her hand a pat. “I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. Okay?”
“Okay.” But she would still be there. Watching her. Judging her. Tarris reminded herself why she was doing this. She would do what it took to walk again. She swiped her barcode over the infrared lock, and her gaze dropped to the floor as the door slid open.
“Well, here it is.” She stood aside to allow Asher inside with her trolley. The clatter of the jostled bags disturbed the peace of the apartment. “Light,” Tarris announced. She felt like her inner sanctum had been violated. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” Asher answered as Tarris walked smoothly to the kitchen alcove. Tarris returned to where Asher was seated and handed over a thermal cup full of synth coffee. “Thanks.”
Tarris reached to the nape of her neck. The color drained from her hair to return to her natural white.
“How do you do that?”
Instead of answering, Tarris put down her cup and flipped her hair forward to allow Asher access to her neck. Asher stood and circled her. “Just under the skin is a small tab.” Asher felt around until she found the small circle of metal. “I just tap it…”
“Can I?”
“Sure.” Tarris felt Asher’s fingers brush her neck then tap the spot to switch on the current.
“That is so amazing,” Asher said with enthusiasm
“It’s pretty cool all right.”
“How does it work?”
“The tab is connected to a tiny battery that sends a light electrical current over my skull. It conducts down the hair follicles and reacts with the chemically treated hair. While the current is on, the hair will remain dark.”
“Don’t you run the risk of giving yourself a shock?”
“The current is so low that wouldn’t happen.”
“How does it feel?”
Tarris felt Asher’s fingers trail over the nape of her neck. “It tingles a little, that’s all.”
“And what about if it rains or when you wash it?”
“I get wet?” Tarris flipped her hair back and studied Asher’s annoyed expression. “It’s safe enough, believe me.” She reached back and tapped her neck once more to return the color to white.
“And is it all worth it?”
“Yeah… yeah, it is.” She had thought long and hard before she made the changes to her body. She hadn’t gone into it blindly
Outside, Tarris touched her wrist computer and sent out a signal for a taxi. Moments later, the checkered vehicle pulled up to the curb and waited for them. Asher went around to the back of the vehicle with her trolley while the baggage platform emerged from the bottom of the cab. She pushed the trolley onto it but didn't wait to see the platform disappear back up into the metal compartment.
Tarris got into the taxi. She smoothly touched the pads that would collapse the hydraulic joints to make it possible for her to sit. Was this foolhardy charade worth the risk of them both dying so she had a chance of walking again? Sadly, there was only one answer as far as she was concerned. Yes.
* * *
Tarris hesitated outside the door to her apartment.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… everything.” How could she explain this? “I don’t know if I can do this.” She flinched when Asher's hand touched her own.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. Fear makes you weak, it makes you slow, and it will eventually kill you, so it’s not a matter of being afraid.” Tarris feared very little, of that she was sure. “It’s more… more…” What did she want to say? “I suppose it’s a matter of losing my independence.” Did she truly believe that? Maybe she was a little afraid of letting someone in, and somehow she had a feeling this woman would be the one to do it.
Rule Eight in her Survival Handbook: Don’t let your enemies see your emotion; it leaves you open to attack.
Asher gave her hand a pat. “I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. Okay?”
“Okay.” But she would still be there. Watching her. Judging her. Tarris reminded herself why she was doing this. She would do what it took to walk again. She swiped her barcode over the infrared lock, and her gaze dropped to the floor as the door slid open.
“Well, here it is.” She stood aside to allow Asher inside with her trolley. The clatter of the jostled bags disturbed the peace of the apartment. “Light,” Tarris announced. She felt like her inner sanctum had been violated. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” Asher answered as Tarris walked smoothly to the kitchen alcove. Tarris returned to where Asher was seated and handed over a thermal cup full of synth coffee. “Thanks.”
Tarris reached to the nape of her neck. The color drained from her hair to return to her natural white.
“How do you do that?”
Instead of answering, Tarris put down her cup and flipped her hair forward to allow Asher access to her neck. Asher stood and circled her. “Just under the skin is a small tab.” Asher felt around until she found the small circle of metal. “I just tap it…”
“Can I?”
“Sure.” Tarris felt Asher’s fingers brush her neck then tap the spot to switch on the current.
“That is so amazing,” Asher said with enthusiasm
“It’s pretty cool all right.”
“How does it work?”
“The tab is connected to a tiny battery that sends a light electrical current over my skull. It conducts down the hair follicles and reacts with the chemically treated hair. While the current is on, the hair will remain dark.”
“Don’t you run the risk of giving yourself a shock?”
“The current is so low that wouldn’t happen.”
“How does it feel?”
Tarris felt Asher’s fingers trail over the nape of her neck. “It tingles a little, that’s all.”
“And what about if it rains or when you wash it?”
“I get wet?” Tarris flipped her hair back and studied Asher’s annoyed expression. “It’s safe enough, believe me.” She reached back and tapped her neck once more to return the color to white.
“And is it all worth it?”
“Yeah… yeah, it is.” She had thought long and hard before she made the changes to her body. She hadn’t gone into it blindly
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