Black Marion

26

By the time 2584 came to an end, the network of the resistance had expanded to encompass over three hundred members, a small cluster in each of the major sectors. It was a brilliant man named Stefan who oversaw the management of this network with airtight precision—recruited back in September of '83, a former righthand to an underground druglord with more ethics in his bones than his old boss could tolerate. Three hundred was an impressive number for a place like the Ground, a solid establishment of operatives for when the System came down. Three hundred was also dangerous, a hiking risk of discovery for each wayward member.

Come '85, they paused expansion and laid low. Paced weapons runs were slowing as well; they stocked for the worst case scenario of a bloodless coup turning bloody, so that the Ground would at least have a means to fight back, but it was meant to be an emergency supply that capped out quickly. Only the necessary medical supply runs continued, and apart from training and dusting and redusting their tracks, the resistance merely waited for Alex's code.

She cut her Ground trips down during this time, two visits after the summer of '84. This close, she needed to minimize risk. And she needed to appease Vaughn, who, as expected, hadn't quite bought the lie that Alex had 'lost contact' with Haneul. By '85, however, that little detail no longer mattered so much: contrary to expectation, her relationship with the Regent grew only closer in the months leading up to the new year.

In retrospect, it was probably because cutting down her visits to the Ground had left Alex unbearably lonely. And Vaughn—he was always there. Deliberately there, from the moment he had learned that Alex loved a man who wouldn't have her, to fill in the space. A kind gesture, and maybe an opportunistic one.

February 3rd, it was the Regent's birthday. This night, Alex put aside all thoughts of the Ground, of the doctor, and of the System to be present with her dear friend. It didn't matter to her whether Vaughn's warmth and availability this past half-year was because he had an agenda; that didn't change the lengths the man had gone to to protect her or the person he was at his core. With a present boxed in blue and a smile tested in the window glass, Alex made her way to their meeting point.

It was in the lower Sky tonight, a spot picked by Alex. The name of the restaurant was Koy. The decor was cheap and the space was nearly cluttered, and Vaughn seemed quizzically amused at the selection. He waited until they were seated before asking, "What's special here?"

Alex furnished the menu and pointed at a few items. "This, I think? And these?"

Vaughn scanned the tablet. After a moment, his amusement softened. "How did you figure it out?"

They were all unknowing derivatives of traditional Eastern European dishes. The culture of cuisine had melted indecipherably in the Sky, so that even the names of most of the dishes were lost to vagaries. The ingredients and description were the telltale markers. Up here, without prior knowledge, Alex wouldn't have known where to begin. But with a bar name like Solzhenitsyn, Victor knew quite a bit about Russian cuisine and had been a priceless consult.

Alex smiled and said, "Research."

"That's..."

Alex pulled out the blue box from her bag, having reserved it for this evasive moment. She handed it to Vaughn. "And happy birthday."

The man stared at the box. "You..."

Alex pushed it over, smiling. "You're having trouble with your sentences today."

"I'm surprised," said Vaughn, at last taking the offering.

Like sugared treats, gift-giving had phased out of the Sky for the occasion of birthdays. In a place so privileged, material goods, like the healthless indulgence of a rich cake, were considered too cheap for a time so special. But Vaughn had always tried to gift Alex, and it took until these recent years for her to realize it was habit from the Ground. When he was younger, he must have looked forward to the packages on his birthdays.