water. My throat feels tight, dry, like it’s packed with sand.
“Fuck. I’m not sure.” He pushes a hand through his hair and curses again. “But you’re alright? You’re sure she didn’t know?”
“No, I don’t think she did. I told her I had the wrong room.” I sit down on the sofa. My entire body trembles at the thought of being found out. My life thus far has been about racing ahead of the tsunami coming toward land, about staying just out of reach. For the first time, my feet are rooted to the spot and I won’t make a run for safety. It is foolish, but there is no other way. I can’t leave Ceres stranded on her shore. “What now?”
“Now I go see the Rads,” he says. “We have to explore where things went wrong and how we can set them right.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Surprise flits across his face. “Really? To a Rads’ meeting?”
“Why not?” I stand up and adjust my uniform. The zero armband pinches the tender flesh of my inner arm.
“Haven’t you heard what the government has to say about the Rads? That we’re notorious misogynists, even rapists?”
Looking at Shale now, I wonder how I ever thought his eyes looked complacent, how I failed to see that fevered spark of intelligence. “Are the people you associate with rapists?”
“No,” he says. “I wouldn’t be part of a group such as that. But still, wouldn’t you be more comfortable here, safe in your own home?”
I shake my head and begin to button up my uniform top, because I don’t know how to explain that there is no such thing as safety, no matter where you are. Safety is the cleverest illusion New Amana perpetrates. It is the rabbit pulled out of a black hat that, when you’re looking away, morphs into a rabid wolf.
We take a night bus to the heart of the city, and then hop another bus from there to the outskirts of town. At this time of night, the only other passengers are young boys being ferried to and from the Husbandry and a few female night-shift workers. A single light flickers overhead, casting shadows on their sallow faces. I look out the windows, but the sky is obscured by fog. When I search for the stars and the planets, all I can see are my own eyes, staring hollowly back at me.
At our stop, Shale grabs my hand. We push through the murky night in a deserted ghost town for about twenty minutes. I see glowing eyes staring at us from hazy corners—scavenger animals, the few left. Finally, when my shirt is plastered against my back like a second skin, Shale turns into an apartment building that likely housed people once. Now, the place stands dark and rotten, and the perfume of decay clings to my hair.
Shale knocks on a warped door and stands back, prodding me behind him. “It’s better if they see me first,” he says. “Since they don’t know you.”
The door opens just a crack and someone says, “Password.”
“Charlie Sigma Oh One,” Shale replies.
The door opens wider, and the man steps out. He’s dressed in the Rads’ black uniform, a black bandanna around his mop of curly hair. He thrusts his chin at me. “Who’s the cunt?”
“Watch the language,” Shale snaps. And then, “This is Vika Cannon.”
The man’s eyes widen. “Your female? No shit. Come in, then. Tomas will wanna see this.”
When we enter, I stand still a moment, allowing my eyes to adjust to what is all around me. The most taboo of le marché noir material is slathered on the walls. Twentieth century-style posters of women in compromising positions and skimpy outfits are everywhere. I don’t know where to look.
But I forget my embarrassment, my fear, even Ceres, when I see who’s sitting on a chair, staring right at me.
Mica.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The world falls away and all I can see is the face of my big brother. I hadn’t really expected Mica to still be alive, let alone sitting in collusion with a group like the Rads.
“I know you’re surprised to see me,” he says. “I’m sorry I
“Fuck. I’m not sure.” He pushes a hand through his hair and curses again. “But you’re alright? You’re sure she didn’t know?”
“No, I don’t think she did. I told her I had the wrong room.” I sit down on the sofa. My entire body trembles at the thought of being found out. My life thus far has been about racing ahead of the tsunami coming toward land, about staying just out of reach. For the first time, my feet are rooted to the spot and I won’t make a run for safety. It is foolish, but there is no other way. I can’t leave Ceres stranded on her shore. “What now?”
“Now I go see the Rads,” he says. “We have to explore where things went wrong and how we can set them right.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Surprise flits across his face. “Really? To a Rads’ meeting?”
“Why not?” I stand up and adjust my uniform. The zero armband pinches the tender flesh of my inner arm.
“Haven’t you heard what the government has to say about the Rads? That we’re notorious misogynists, even rapists?”
Looking at Shale now, I wonder how I ever thought his eyes looked complacent, how I failed to see that fevered spark of intelligence. “Are the people you associate with rapists?”
“No,” he says. “I wouldn’t be part of a group such as that. But still, wouldn’t you be more comfortable here, safe in your own home?”
I shake my head and begin to button up my uniform top, because I don’t know how to explain that there is no such thing as safety, no matter where you are. Safety is the cleverest illusion New Amana perpetrates. It is the rabbit pulled out of a black hat that, when you’re looking away, morphs into a rabid wolf.
We take a night bus to the heart of the city, and then hop another bus from there to the outskirts of town. At this time of night, the only other passengers are young boys being ferried to and from the Husbandry and a few female night-shift workers. A single light flickers overhead, casting shadows on their sallow faces. I look out the windows, but the sky is obscured by fog. When I search for the stars and the planets, all I can see are my own eyes, staring hollowly back at me.
At our stop, Shale grabs my hand. We push through the murky night in a deserted ghost town for about twenty minutes. I see glowing eyes staring at us from hazy corners—scavenger animals, the few left. Finally, when my shirt is plastered against my back like a second skin, Shale turns into an apartment building that likely housed people once. Now, the place stands dark and rotten, and the perfume of decay clings to my hair.
Shale knocks on a warped door and stands back, prodding me behind him. “It’s better if they see me first,” he says. “Since they don’t know you.”
The door opens just a crack and someone says, “Password.”
“Charlie Sigma Oh One,” Shale replies.
The door opens wider, and the man steps out. He’s dressed in the Rads’ black uniform, a black bandanna around his mop of curly hair. He thrusts his chin at me. “Who’s the cunt?”
“Watch the language,” Shale snaps. And then, “This is Vika Cannon.”
The man’s eyes widen. “Your female? No shit. Come in, then. Tomas will wanna see this.”
When we enter, I stand still a moment, allowing my eyes to adjust to what is all around me. The most taboo of le marché noir material is slathered on the walls. Twentieth century-style posters of women in compromising positions and skimpy outfits are everywhere. I don’t know where to look.
But I forget my embarrassment, my fear, even Ceres, when I see who’s sitting on a chair, staring right at me.
Mica.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The world falls away and all I can see is the face of my big brother. I hadn’t really expected Mica to still be alive, let alone sitting in collusion with a group like the Rads.
“I know you’re surprised to see me,” he says. “I’m sorry I
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