by Kristin Cast
“Oh, Elodie.” Gwen stopped drumming and pressed her palms against her cheeks. “I would have insisted you stay at work and get yourself checked out if I’d known you weren’t feeling well.”
Elodie hid her hands in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “I feel fine.”
“Well.” Gwen eyed her as she worried the high lace collar of her dress between her fingers. “I wish you would look a bit more,” Gwen fluffed the air, “put together. What if someone were to stop by unannounced?”
Elodie glanced down at her bunnies partially swallowed by her schlumpy gray pant legs. “I don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Let’s go to the living room so I can use the holoscreen. It’ll be easier than trying to walk you through your comlink.”
Elodie slid across the slick new marble floor till it ended at the living room threshold, where the pristine gray porcelain picked up, yawning into the expertly decorated living space. The flooring looked like wood—dreary, storm cloud–colored wood, but wood nonetheless—however, it wasn’t. It fit their house. It fit with her mother, dressed up as one thing, but something else altogether.
Text from Astrid Fujimoto.
Elodie faced her mother as the gray text screen materialized:
Been thinking about Mohawk Man.
Elodie pressed her sleeve against her mouth to hide her smile as she replied.
AND . . .
With a strained chuckle, Gwen batted the air. “I suppose what’s done is done.” Pink cheeked and wide eyed, she stared at Elodie expectantly.
Elodie hugged her stomach. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Gwen threw her arms into the air. “Surprise!” Her perpetual overpreparedness strangled the excitement from the word.
“There’s my girl!” Rhett popped up from behind the kitchen island, arms shooting out like the points of a star.
“Rhett?” Elodie’s stomach knotted. He’d been there the entire time, listening as her mother went on about her father and the dress and the comlink—all pretty typical for Gwen, but Astrid had been the only other person who’d heard this side of her mother. And even that was almost too much embarrassment for Elodie to handle. “Wh-What are you doing here?”
He leaned against the island, his tight white tee and closely cut white-blond hair blending almost perfectly with the row of cabinets that stretched down the wall behind him like teeth. “You said you wanted to see each other more. So here I am. You happy?”
What would you do if you weren’t already matched?
Elodie froze, guilt consuming her as her mother and fiancé stood on the other side of the block letters etched into her vision.
Gwen’s heels clapped against the floor as she hopped. “Oh, Rhett, dear, she’s excited. You just caught her off guard is all.”
Like, would you want to see him again? Meet up with him in VR?
Sweat popped against Elodie’s forehead and she shook her head and refocused, “From our talk earlier, you . . .” She picked at a stray thread hanging from the cuff of her sweatshirt. “I thought you were fine with the way things were.”
With an annoyed grunt, Rhett folded his arms across his chest. “Look, El, I can go.” The hard angles of his jaw, his thick, trunk-like neck, and the commanding timbre of his voice made him seem much older than his twenty-one years.
Flapping her arms like a crazed goose, Gwen scooted behind him. From her gestures, anyone else would’ve thought she needed medical assistance, but Elodie understood her mother’s panicked waving. And Gwen was right. Elodie was being difficult yet again, which her mother understood would chase Rhett away. And no one, Elodie included, wanted Rhett to submit a request to have their match terminated. She’d be viewed as defective, and no one would want her then. Although, at times, that sounded divine.
“You’re the one who wanted us to spend more time together,” Rhett continued. “But if you don’t want to hang out with your own fiancé . . .”
Or what about in the real? Would you want to talk to him again in real life????????
Elodie clutched her shoulders. Embarrassment licked hot streaks against her neck. “No, sorry. You did throw me off a little. I didn’t—I just didn’t expect to see you.” She glanced down at her bunnies. The hopeless gray of the tile matched her mood. “I’ll go get changed.”
She headed for the stairs, pausing as Rhett said, “Where we’re going is pretty casual.”
Her mother clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “No place is that casual, Rhett, dear.”
Blood surged to Elodie’s cheeks.
Rhett scratched his smooth face, hiding his chuckle. “El, you, uh, might want to think about dumping those silly kid slippers while you’re up there.”
“My thought exactly.” Gwen melted into a barstool uncomfortably close to the young soldier. “You know, you are so good for my Elodie. So wise and mature. And going places.” She turned her ray of manipulation back on Elodie. “Don’t I always say that Rhett here is going places in his career?” Her eyelids fluttered as she glanced up at him. “And that’s really the most important thing.”
Every year Elodie watched the bots make cotton candy at the upcoming Key Corp Rose Festival. Rainbows of fabric from nothing but sugar. She’d learned early on that it had to be protected or it would dissolve in on itself, turning the fluffy cloud into a hard, crusted lump.
Elodie balled her hands into fists inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt, bits of her disintegrating with each comment. She understood cotton candy more than anyone could know.
Is that a yes??????
Elodie’s throat dried. She couldn’t do both things. She couldn’t talk about Mohawk and be with Rhett. There wasn’t enough space in her brain—in this house. She would crack and bleed her guilty feelings all over her mother’s new marble.
Fiiiiine. Don’t answer
Hope you’re knee deep in VR adventure.
(Maybe with Mr. Mohawk?)
“You know, El, just today I received a personal call from Director Holbrook asking me to take care of the Eos threat.” Rhett feigned casualness and rested his elbows against the island.
“And with how ill he is? Oh, you must really be in his favor!” Gwen swooned so aggressively, Elodie thought her mother might fall out of her chair and burst into the hundreds of pieces of plastic that made up her forty-year-old, newly adolescent appearance. And Elodie wouldn’t even offer to sweep it up. “You’re going to his funeral, yes, Rhett? This is what I’m thinking of wearing.” Gwen hopped out of the chair and struck a pose before her heeled feet touched the floor. “Although, our Elodie has implied that it is a titch too fancy for such an occasion.”
Elodie’s groan was swallowed by the black hole of her mother’s ego.
Rhett flashed his bleached smile. “You look stunning, Mrs. Benavidez. There’s no way you can be too fancy for this funeral. He’s the director, not a random nobody.”
“Oh, Rhett.” Gwen blushed, playfully clutching the strand of pearls against the dress’s high collar. “Ms. Benavidez, please.”
Elodie stiffened. “Mom! You’re married.”
Gwen waved dismissively. “Now, tell me. What do you think I should do with my hair?” She patted the blond waves piled on top of her head.
Elodie’s toes dug into the warm fluff of her slippers. “I’ll go up and change now.” A smile burned across her lips. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“We don’t need a narrated account of your comings and goings, Elodie, honestly.” Gwen tittered to her captive audience of one, more than to Elodie. “Just because your wedding is coming up doesn’t mean it’s all about you all the time.”
Pieces of Elodie seemed to flake away as she ascended the stairs. If she could’ve mustered the energy, she would have stomped her way up. But she was drained, too busy diverting fuel to make a new and tough
er skin.
XIX
“Make sure you keep your eyes closed.” Rhett was almost giggling. “No peeking.”
Elodie’s chest swelled with anticipation. The knee-high sock she’d tied over her eyes at Rhett’s request inched its way down. She adjusted it until she was able to see the smallest sliver of pavement beneath her feet. Rhett had had her cover her eyes before the MAX had left the station. Since then, they’d switched trains, walked two blocks, and, from the lush green grass she currently trampled, they were now off-roading. She couldn’t be expected to stay blind the entire time. She would have tripped and fallen before they’d made it to the second train.
“I’m not peeking!” She was, of course, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Especially after Rhett had witnessed the horror show that was her mother. He’d also participated a bit, hadn’t he? Elodie’s stomach knotted.
He was trying to fit in. Be a part of the family, Elodie told herself. He just wants Gwen’s approval.
She couldn’t think about it any other way. She wouldn’t. She and Rhett were matched. There was no escaping it.
The warm evening breeze twirled through her hair and tickled the back of her neck. “I want to get there already! I’m so excited!” Concrete met her feet again as Rhett’s clomping footsteps halted in front of her.
They were probably at a park. A real-life park. Elodie had talked about parks until she’d felt like a silly little girl, but Rhett had never shown interest in going. And, no matter how freeing it was to lean back in the swing and see nothing but your feet and the sky, it was no fun going alone. But now they were here. She could tell by the way the sidewalk framed the manicured lawn and the creaking of metal. Swing chains!
Not enough people played anymore. They were all so wrapped up in their careers and families, and they spent the little free time they had inside of a computer simulation. No matter how many times Astrid or Rhett or Gus or anyone else told Elodie that VR was indistinguishable from actual reality, it still wasn’t real. In VR, rain didn’t soak through her shoes and squish out with each step, snowflakes didn’t cling to her lashes until her vision was rimmed in bright starbursts, and sunlight didn’t paint her skin a deeper shade of golden tan. The way the planet enveloped them, played out around them regardless of their actions or plans—that was reality.
“Okay! Okay!” Rhett cheered. “Blindfold off!”
Elodie forced herself not to hop up and down as her fingers fumbled with the tight knot. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments after removing the blindfold. The wind tugged at the sock, twirling it around her arm.
I won’t scream like a silly little girl. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.
Open.
“Oh.” Breath rushed from her body like from a stuck balloon.
“Yeah!” Rhett crossed his arms over his chest and rocked from the balls of his feet back to his heels. “Frickin’ awesome!”
Elodie stuffed the sock into the pocket of her jeans as she took in the six empty stalls stretched across the massive concrete slab in front of her. Each stall was a copy of the next, containing a green bench propped up on cinderblocks, a wooden stool, and, on the other side of the solid yellow line painted a foot behind the benches, two taller wooden stools.
The creaking sounded again and she swung her gaze to meet it. A metal pole was stabbed into the earth a few feet in front of a gray, windowless building. A wooden sign hung from the pole, its metal chains groaning with each listless sway.
Tuff’s Gun Range. Real Guns. Real Life. Real Tuff.
Elodie balled the toe of the sock hanging out of her pocket. “An outdoor gun range?”
Rhett rocked again. A grin fattened his cheeks. “And only certain Key Corp personnel are allowed in, so,” he waggled his brow, “you’re lucky we’re together. Without me you’d only be able to shoot in VR.” He chortled. “Lame.”
Elodie didn’t want to shoot in VR, and she definitely did not want to shoot in real life.
Aside from the creaking, the range was dead quiet. “Where is everyone?” she asked as she followed him to one of the middle stalls.
Rhett whistled at the gun that lay in wait on the oddly shaped bench. “I rented out the whole place.” He picked the rifle up, letting out a soft, pleased grunt, and tossing her a, “Just for us,” as he weighed the wood and metal piece between his hands.
“Because you know how much I like guns?” Elodie said to the top of Rhett’s head as he leaned over to wipe away an invisible smudge.
“Mmhhmm.”
His anemic reply told her all she needed to know. This date wasn’t for her or for their relationship. She was just tagging along while Rhett did what Rhett wanted to do.
“Feel this.” Rhett’s eyes were heavy lidded as he extended the rifle. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started drooling.
Elodie forced her arms out, and he dropped the gun into her upturned palms.
Rhett’s left eyebrow ticked up in amusement. “Heavier than you thought it would be, isn’t it?”
No. She’d never thought about it.
“It’s a Kalashnikov.” He articulated the name as if teaching it to a child.
Human-shaped outlines glared at her from paper targets held in place by wooden frames a few hundred yards past the stalls.
“I can teach you to shoot it,” he said.
Elodie couldn’t keep her lips from peeling back in a revolted grimace. “Actually,” she gingerly set the gun down on the table. Her hands snapped back to her sides as soon as they were free. “I think I’m going to sit this one out.”
“That’s probably for the best.” His chest puffed and he waggled his left brow. “You’ll want to watch the master at work for a little bit. Really get a feel for how it should be done.” He picked up the gun and fit the curved box magazine into the receiver. “We might want to start you off with something a little smaller. You can’t handle this bad boy.”
Rhett unhooked a pair of earmuffs from under the table and handed them to her before tugging on his own. Elodie’s smile was more a baring of teeth as she waved, slid the ear covers on, and backed away to the empty stool behind the yellow line of safety.
Rhett hunched around the gun and began shooting. Each bang of gunfire and hollow clink of empty shells made Elodie’s stomach squeeze tighter and her bones rattle within her flesh. Seconds lasted an eternity as he loaded clip after clip, shredding paper humans.
“Fuck yeah!” he whooped when he had finally run out of ammo and magazines piled on the table like steel skeletons. “Whoo! What a rush!” He tugged his earmuffs down around his neck and dropped the gun onto the table.
Elodie followed his lead and slid her ear protectors off and dropped them into her lap.
“AKs are great, but nothing quite compares to the Fujimoto Fury. Wish Tuff’s could get clearance to have one of those out here.” He cracked his knuckles. “The Fury doesn’t look like much, but it is a monster. A total beast. You slide your hand into this cannister, and it—” He held his left arm out straight, trying to demonstrate the weapon with sweeping gestures from his right. “I don’t know, practically grows around it and morphs into this intense fire demon.”
Astrid had talked about the Fury. It was one of the biotech weapons her father had created for the Key as a way to fund the civilian outreach projects he was most passionate about. Astrid had even hauled Elodie to a prototype demonstration. And what Rhett said was accurate. The way the fire had eaten up the mannequin, reducing it to ash in mere seconds, was something that fit right at home with the evil demon mythos.
She hadn’t told Rhett about having witnessed it for the very reason that now stared her down. She didn’t want this version of her fiancé. The man who pined after a machine that’s purpose was annihilation. She wanted a different version of Rhett. One she had yet to discover.
“It does a perfect job of lighting u
p those Zone Seven abominations,” he continued. “Turns ’em real crispy.”
Elodie fidgeted in her seat. “Why do you have to go out there?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why can’t whatever’s in Zone Seven be left alone? The Zone barriers are protected. Nothing has gotten into the city in—”
“Nothing has gotten into the city because my team and others like us go out there and make sure those things aren’t breeding and growing in numbers.”
She frowned. Breeding was such a gross word. She’d learned about the process in her Preinfection World Studies class. It was all moisture and blood flow and thrusting. So messy and invasive. It was much better now. Eggs were harvested, fertilized, and the developing embryo was cared for in the lab until the fetus was ready to be harvested from the gestation bot and delivered to its parents with a caretaker bot that would stay with the family until the child’s fourth birthday. All other urges that had encircled procreation were taken care of in sterile Release Pods at the MediCenter. Elodie had never used one.
She swung her legs as she sat on the stool. “But there hasn’t been an attack in, like, a decade.”
“Thanks to yours truly.” Rhett gave a mock bow.
“You weren’t even old enough to go out to Zone Seven when that attack happened. At least a few other people have had a hand in keeping the city monster free.”
“Yeah, well,” he blustered, “up until recently. But for the past three years or so, it’s been all me. And they’re not even the immediate threat. Eos, and Echo—”
“Echo?” Elodie asked.
“Don’t worry. I got ’em both handled. Ask anyone.” Rhett’s chest puffed.
Elodie blinked long and slow to keep from rolling her eyes. How many times would she have to tell him how great he was?
“And guess who was hand chosen by Fujimoto himself to take Fury on its Zone Seven maiden voyage?” Rhett was so full of hot air, he might take flight.
