Simoom Rising

Chapter Fifteen

WAVE Orbiting Station
Now

Doric

I was at my desk in the bull pen, when Ann's voice crashed through to my consciousness and her story began to ricochet inside my skull. I couldn't stop the connection—God knows I wanted to, considering how she'd lied to me. But my rational mind was overruled by my heart and my gut. I sighed with relief the minute I felt her presence again—I had missed her. I had missed her even though I didn't really know who the hell she was. That freaked me out.

As she told me about her and Mancy in that restaurant, I tried to keep filling out the overtime report on my screen. I tried to look busy. I don't know if I succeeded. I was caught up in her story and consumed by one horrible question—was I exactly like Mancy?

Why would you say that, Vestra? Ann asked. Are you a boozer?

No. It's just that—Look, stop it. Just stop it. You ram your way into my head and force me to listen to your life story—Why? Why should I give a damn?

First tell me how you're like Mancy.

You mean, you don't know? You haven't siphoned that out of my brain yet?

I'm never going to know everything, Vestra, unless you tell me. Please, tell me.

Staring at my screen, I sat there, wavering between trust and distrust. How, I wondered, had Ann's voice, with every whisper in my mind, become more compelling—more seductive?

Please, Vestra, tell me.

I capitulated. Mancy betrayed you. His love of status got in the way—just like—

Is this about Raquel?

I nodded my head, though I knew she couldn't see me do it.

***

New Earth
Eleven years ago

I soon found out where Raquel's protest group met. It was this off-grid club called Analogue. All portable screens and ear-coms were left at the door and they even scanned you for devices as you went in. They didn't use the credit system on the premises either; you paid for your booze by monthly membership fees through a shell "book club" portal.

After the protest went awry, Raquel took me there. She wanted to buy me a drink to thank me for pulling her out of the way of the truncheons . We talked. We talked all night. At one point, I asked her whether she was worried she was going to get picked up by Campus Sec—I mean they had her on camera, saying "Take down the drones!"

But she just laughed. "You're so sweet to be worried for me. You needn't be though. They've got no proof I did anything other than yell at those things—and that's not a crime." Technically she was right. It had been jacket guy who had the jamming equipment not her. But I couldn't believe how brazen she was about it all. I suppose when you're young, you think you can do all sorts of shit and never pay for it. I don't think I've ever been that young—but she was and it was glorious.

In the gloom of the club's interior, I watched Raquel tip back her drink and take a big satisfying gulp. As she swallowed, my eyes moved down her slim neck, past her collar bones to rest where her gleaming skin met the thin material of her shirt. I couldn't believe after all those months of watching her on screen, I was actually there with her. I lost track of time just staring at her chest moving gently up and down as she breathed, until I heard her clear her throat. I blinked and quickly glanced back up to her face.

Raquel beamed that deadly smile of hers directly at me. "You're turning red," she whispered.

Self-conscious now I fiddled with my unruly hair, tucking it behind my ears.