Snowburn

by E J Frost

  have lasted her until now—”

  “She double-dipped and was up all night

  twitching. She was waiting for you to bring

  her down. She needed you and you left with

  him—”

  “Okay, okay, how long has she been

  gone?” She clutches her free hand to her

  head. Over the faded bruise on her

  cheekbone. Her head’s probably started

  throbbing again. I’m tempted to pull the

  bangle away from her, shut off the call and

  leave her brother to his own devices. But her

  expression keeps me still. Until I’m sure

  what it is, I don’t know what will help.

  “No one’s seen her since noon.”

  “Weren’t you watching her?”

  “I’m not her fucking keeper!”

  “Goddamn it, Ape! Meet me in Eddle.

  Bring five grand. Tell Gig to bring the

  skimmer. She may not be able to walk.”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “What do you think?” She snarls into the

  screen. “I’m going to buy her back.”

  She taps the screen off. Stands for a

  moment, swaying on her feet, her hand

  clutched to her face.

  “Kez—” I begin.

  “Did you take off my vcom?”

  I debate lying to her. The viewie could

  have fallen off when I was putting her to bed.

  “Kez—”

  “Did you?!” She flares at me. Teeth and

  claws and fur standing on end.

  “Yeah.”

  She goes so pale I think she might faint. I

  put a hand out to catch her. She recoils. A

  tear slips down her cheek. “I need my

  backpack,” she whispers.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “My friend, my best friend is in trouble

  because I didn’t bring her her meds. Because

  I was here, with you, fucking when she was

  hurting!” Her voice rises until she’s yelling.

  “I need my goddamn backpack!”

  “I’ll get it,” I say dully. I should have

  known it was too good to last. Beauty never

  does. I turn on my heel and head towards the

  front hall where I dimly remember dropping

  her backpack after carrying her in from the

  taxi.

  She’s pulled on her clothes by the time I

  return. She’s stamping her foot into her boot

  and talking into her viewie. Her voice is low

  and urgent. “Sky, I just need to know where

  she is. She’s not answering her com. Is she

  there?”

  A male voice answers her. “Like I’d

  fuckin’ tell you.”

  “The Hex will kill the baby, Skylar.

  Please, I’ve got her Naltrex. Just tell me

  where she is and I’ll bring it to her.”

  I drop the backpack next to her. She nods

  but doesn’t take her eyes off the screen.

  “I told you, she doesn’t want to see you.

  She’s fine now and she’s gonna stay fine fine

  fine and all mine.”

  “So she’s there with you?”

  “I’m not tellin’ you, you fuckin’ lesbo

  bitch. She’s told me all about you. How you

  brush her hair when she’s twitchin’. I know

  you’re just trying to get in her pants, ain’t you

  gay-girl?”

  “That’s right, Skylar. I just wanted to get

  with her. But you win, she’s back with you,

  right?”

  “Straight up, bitch.”

  “And she’s going to stay with you at your

  place.” It’s not a question. She’s turned it

  around so he’ll confirm her statement. Clever

  kitten.

  “That’s right, that’s right, that’s righty-

  right-right. Me and Nevie and the baby.

  We’ll be one happy family and you’ll have

  no one, you lesbo bitch!”

  Kez smiles into the Hexer’s snarling face.

  “Thanks, Sky, that’s all I needed to know.”

  She taps the screen and snatches up her

  backpack. “I have to go,” she says to me.

  I nod. I’ve caught enough of the

  conversation to understand the crux of what’s

  happened. “Kez—”

  She shakes her head. Doesn’t meet my

  eyes as she stamps on the other boot. On her

  wrist, the touchscreen flares. She glances at

  it. “My taxi’s here. Where’s the door?”

  I beckon her with two fingers. Lead her

  through the house to the front door. All the

  while debating what to say to her. At the

  front door I pause, my hand on the control

  panel. “Kez—”

  She winces. “I have to go.”

  I tap the panel. Stand aside as the door

  cycles. Watch her walk out my door. She

  doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say good-bye. I

  tap the panel again to activate the gates.

  Glance at the monitor beside the door to

  make sure she gets into the taxi waiting

  beyond the outer gate. As she climbs into the

  taxi, she looks back at the house. The vid’s

  resolution isn’t good enough to show me her

  expression. She shakes her head, closes the

  door, and the taxi hums away.

  I stand with my forehead against the door,

  staring at the blank monitor. I’ve let her go.

  Let her slip through my fingers. In one

  moment, doing the wrong thing for the right

  reasons, I’ve lost her. Just like I lost Marin.

  Why doesn’t the beauty in my life ever

  last?

  Chapter 10

  Four minutes, thirty-nine seconds later,

  I’m racing through my outer gate. Opening up

  the trike’s engine. Cranking the neg cells

  towards their redline. The late afternoon

  streets are quiet. Too late for the lunch

  crowd, too early for rush-hour. At the end of

  the street, I corner hard on the trike’s big

  front wheel, and turn north to follow the

  river.

  Eddle’s not far, maybe fifteen minutes

  upriver. But Kez has a good head-start on

  me. Once she reaches her destination,

  disappears inside the huge, ancient set of

  habitables that are the Eddle Housing Block,

  I may not be able to track her. I keep the

  throttle open, feel the wind pick up as I reach

  the open soyufields of Blyss District. The

  wind stings my bare chest. Flaps my jacket

  around my waist. I’m not dressed for the

  trike, but I couldn’t take the time to pull on

  my riding gear, not if I wanted to catch Kez. I

  just grabbed my boots and helmet. And a few

  blades. Never leave home without them.

  The empty streets and the trike’s smooth

  acceleration give me time to think. Too much

  time. I don’t want to think through what I’ve

  done. The decisions that led to her walking

  out, and to me chasing after her. I should be

  able to let her go. I was ready to on the

  Marie. Nothing’s changed since then. And

  she might come back on her own once she’s

  taken care of her business. Make herself

  mine again.

  But Marin’s ghost is fucking with me.

  Sp
itting the image of her battered face, the

  light fading from those beautiful eyes, in

  front of me again and again. Reminding me of

  the promise I’ve made to her so many times

  as I’ve woken, sweating and reaching for

  her. Not to let her go.

  I lean into the wind and push the trike

  faster upriver.

  I catch Kez’s taxi as it turns off the H-K

  Main Line. Follow it down the access ramp

  and into the long shadows cast by the towers

  of the Eddle Housing Block: four huge

  fingers of permacrete and plaz, planted into

  the fertile soil of Kuseros by the drop ship

  that established the Colony. Eddle was

  designed to house ten thousand colonists in

  sterile, insulated comfort until the planet’s

  terraforming was complete. A hundred years

  on and it’s a decaying relic. Broken plaz

  domes glint in the afternoon sunlight. Debris

  swirls along the empty streets. Soot streaks

  the permacrete towers from fires deliberate

  and accidental. Here and there, an intact unit

  provides shelter for squatters.

  Only the very tough, or very desperate,

  live in Eddle now.

  The taxi turns and pulls up in front of

  Housing Block Two. A skimmer is already

  parked there. A man leans against the

  skimmer, two fingers pressing the prong of

  an eskey close to his mouth. He must be

  using the skimmer as shielding, since most

  eskeys won’t work with the Twins up. His

  eyes are shaded by the bill of a cap, but he

  still squints into the afternoon sunlight as he

  watches me pull up behind the taxi. He gives

  me a tentative wave. I nod to him as I power

  down the trike’s neg cells and lean back into

  the seat as the floating back end settles onto

  the pavement. I swing off the trike, cross the

  distance to the taxi in two strides, and pull

  open the door. Extend my hand to its

  occupant.

  Kez looks up at me. It’s not the taxi’s dim

  interior that makes her pupils dilate. She

  slides out of the taxi one long leg at a time.

  Takes my hand as she stands. She slings her

  backpack over her shoulder and looks up at

  me. Her eyes linger on my bare chest on the

  way up.

  I hold her eyes for a long moment. Let her

  see my anger and disappointment at the way

  she walked out. My remorse for taking off

  her viewie.

  “I’d have come back,” she says, her

  voice nearly lost in the wind that roars

  between the housing blocks. “I’d have bought

  noodles and been knocking on your gate

  before dark.” She looks down at her boots.

  Shrugs. “I’ve got no pride.”

  “Me, neither.” I run the backs of my

  fingers down her cheek. Tip her chin up so I

  can look down into those wide kitten eyes.

  “I’d have let you in.”

  That gets me a smile, although not her full

  mischievous grin. She reaches toward me,

  for a moment I think she might hug me, show

  me that all’s forgiven, but she stops herself

  and puts her hand on my chest. “I’ve got to

  help Nevie. But, later?”

  I nod. I can be patient. “Tell me the

  play.”

  “Get Nev out of here as fast as we can.

  Skylar’s probably dosed her full of Hex. Hex

  can go either way. It can put her on cloud

  nine, or it can make her violent. Him, too.

  His mother may be around. She’s worse than

  he is.” She sweeps her dreads to one side.

  Turns her neck so I can see a thin scar that

  disappears into her hair. “She did that with a

  broken bottle. She looks like a nice little old

  lady but she’s a complete psycho.”

  “Complete psycho,” echoes the man who

  waved at me. He’s drawn close as Kez has

  been speaking. Kez holds out a hand to him

  and he knocks his knuckles against hers.

  “Gig, this is Snow,” she says.

  He nods shyly at me and I reassess. His

  height fooled me, but he’s still a kid. Late

  teens, all Adam’s apple, elbows and knees.

  Light brown hair sticks out from under his

  cap and around the cups he wears over his

  ears. They’re connected to the prong near his

  mouth and a visor that he has flipped back

  over the brim of his cap. Not an eskey; a

  hyper-rig. He wears the power cells around

  his waist like a belt and they drag his pants

  down on his skinny hips. He hitches at them

  self-consciously before holding his hand out

  to me. His palm glitters faintly with

  embedded circuitry. Part of the hyper-rig.

  I give his hand a shake. Firm but not

  crushing. His rig looks expensive. No reason

  to fuck it up.

  “Mister Snow, nice to meet you,” he

  says. Shy and polite. None of Kez’s

  confidence or her brother’s arrogance. “I’ve

  been scanning their unit,” he tells Kez.

  “Signal going in but nothing coming out. No

  calls since we got here. I’ve tried Skylar a

  couple of times. He’s not answering.”

  “Anything from Nev?” Kez asks.

  Gig shakes his head. “Her com’s been

  turned off all day.”

  Kez hunches one shoulder, a sign, I’ve

  come to realize, that’s she’s steeling herself

  against something bad. “When was her last

  dose?”

  “This morning. Right after you, uh—” His

  brown eyes flick to me. “Left. It didn’t help.”

  “One dose wouldn’t.” Kez sighs. “Right.

  Let’s do this. Did you bring the money?”

  Gig holds out yet another black nylar bag.

  They seem to have an endless supply. I take

  it from him. Sling the bag’s strap over my

  head and settle the bag on my back so I have

  both hands free.

  “Is Ape coming?” Kez asks Gig. The boy

  glances at the skimmer. The privacy shield is

  down. There’s nothing to see in the windows

  but the reflections of clouds. He shrugs.

  “It’s like that, huh?” Kez rolls her eyes.

  “Great. Well, tell him to have the thermo

  ready. Once I dose her, she’ll get cold fast.”

  “And a zap bag.” Gig’s thin mouth turns

  down at the edges.

  “Yeah, and that.” Kez scratches at her

  dreadlocks, which are probably itchy since

  she didn’t get a shower. She hitches her

  backpack up on her shoulder. “Snow?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Kez nods and starts into the housing

  block. The entrance airlock looks like it has

  withstood multiple assaults. Two of the

  airlock panes have been bent back over

  themselves, like faded flower petals. The

  others are jammed open. Kez ducks nimbly

  through them. I follow her, admiring both her

  flexibility and her ass.

  The habitable’s vestibule once held a

  fountain. Only a dry bed and some e
xposed

  pipes remain. The permacrete walls rise two

  stories above the fountain, but narrow to a

  claustrophobic archway on the far side,

  leading deeper into the habitable. The wind

  that roars outside whistles here. It blows

  around the tattered strips of plaz that hang in

  the archway with an off-key rattle.

  Kez ducks through the hanging plaz,

  passes a lift shaft that stands open and empty,

  and starts up a flight of stairs. “Third floor,”

  she says to me.

  “Which unit?”

  “Three-thirteen.”

  “Anyone else live here?”

  “Yes. Watch out.”

  I do, but I don’t see anything as we climb

  the stairs. On the second floor landing,

  there’s a transparent plaz table and chair.

  Both are scarred nearly opaque. I get the

  feeling that if we were here at another time,

  they might be occupied, and we might have

  to offer something in order to pass. But for

  now the stairwell is empty except for the

  afternoon light and the gusting wind.

  On the third floor, Kez turns into a

  darkened hallway, turns again. The

  permacrete walls here have been stripped of

  whatever decorative covering they once had

  and are stained a dull green. There’s a

  heavy, smoky smell in the air.

  “Quaak,” Kez says, glancing over her

  shoulder at me.

  “Quack, quack,” I respond, wondering

  what code we’re speaking.

  “No, quaakal. It’s a mild hallucinogen.

  Dulls the senses.”

  I nod. I’ve heard of quaakal. It’s an

  extremely cheap street drug. Best enjoyed

  when left to smoke over an open flame.

  There’s a primitive appeal to that, but I rely

  on my senses too much to fuck with them.

  “How long until we’re affected?”

  “Maybe five minutes. God, that’s cheap

  shit. It should smell sweet.”

  “All the more reason to make this quick.”

  Kez nods and continues down the hall.

  We pass several doorways, most with the

  doors kicked through. One that still has its

  door intact is framed by the blinking red and

  blue lights that the natives hang out at

  Helasfest, the annual celebration of the

  Colony’s founding. Helasfast is in Kuseros’s

  autumn, nearly five months ago, or five

  months from now, whichever way you want

  to look at it. Either way, someone doesn’t

  know what fucking time of year it is.

  Probably because of all the green shit in the

  air.

  Kez stops in front of the next doorway,

  which also has the door still attached. The