Snowburn

by E J Frost

  numbers in the corner of my vision grow

  large enough to worry me and I remind Kez

  we’re on the clock.

  She climbs out of bed with a sigh. Strips

  off her night-dress. Reaches her fingertips

  toward the ceiling, then bends over and

  touches her toes.

  I check her over carefully while she

  stretches. The derms have done their work.

  There’s a green shadow on her lower back

  where the worst bruise was, but that’s all.

  She’s healed, except for the marks I put on

  her last night.

  She twists, stretching her sides, catches

  me watching her and grins. Goes back to

  stretching with a wiggle of that beautifully

  bruised ass. Totally unselfconscious now.

  That makes me smile as I climb out of bed.

  So does the way she folds up her night-dress

  and leaves it in a neat pile on the pillow. I

  don’t mind sleeping at her place, but I like

  the assumption she’ll be sleeping at mine.

  While she showers and dresses, I make

  breakfast. She bought enough sugar to rot out

  all my augmented teeth. We need something a

  little tart. While I’m whipping fresh citrus

  juice into soyumilk, Kez emerges from the

  ‘fresher, hops up onto the kitchen counter and

  watches me. When it’s ready, she holds out

  the plates I’ve prepared with warm slices of

  sweet bread. I scoop the citrus foam onto the

  top. Kez garnishes it with some of the mixed

  fruit salad she bought, pops open the bulbs of

  self-heating susu and sets it all on the

  lacquered tray we ate our dinner on. She

  rolls her eyes when I add several slices of

  crisp-fried auro to my plate.

  “Oh, look, meat.” She grins at my grunted

  responses. “Can we eat on the deck?”

  “Sure.” There aren’t a ton of choices.

  I’ve never bothered with a table and chairs

  because Kez is the first company I’ve had. I

  use the dining room as a workshop.

  We eat on the hammock, with the tray

  between us to avoid any temptation towards

  renewed stickiness. Kez compliments my

  cooking, and teases me a little more about

  my need for meat with every meal, but

  otherwise we’re quiet, enjoying each other’s

  company and the very early morning. The sky

  has just begun to gray towards pearl when

  the Multi I’ve tucked into a pocket of my

  fatigues buzzes.

  I pull it out and show it to Kez. The code

  on the display doesn’t tell me anything other

  than there’s been a delivery for the Marie.

  “Gotta be the rat-food arriving.” I’m not

  scheduled for anything else for another two

  days.

  “Do we need to hurry?”

  “No, it’ll have to clear security first. We

  got time.”

  “Good. This is too good to rush.” She

  takes another bite of the bread. Washes it

  down with a sip of susu. “What’s your

  favorite food?”

  “Hard to name just one. That rendang the

  other night has to rank up there, though.”

  Kez nods. “It is good, isn’t it? That’s my

  favorite.”

  “You ever had gesper?” I ask. She shakes

  her head. “Big fish, native to Yrillo. They

  roast it in a sand pit with leaves and this

  special red sauce. Sweet, but spicy. Right up

  your alley. When I outed Tol Seng, I hid on a

  transport and had to listen to the guards talk

  about it for hours. I was sittin’ in a puddle of

  drool by the time we finally cleared

  atmosphere.” I chuckle at the memory.

  “We’re definitely gonna try some of that.”

  She smiles, sharing my humor, then

  watches her susu swirl around in her cup for

  a moment before looking up at me again.

  “You were serious about that? Going to

  Yrillo after all this is over?”

  “Deadly serious.” We both need some

  down-time.

  “I’ve never been off-planet,” Kez says

  slowly. “I don’t even have a Multi.” She

  nods at my pocket.

  “We’ll get you one.” I guessed she’d

  never been off-world when she said she’d

  never been on a spaceship. “High time you

  went.”

  I’m rewarded with her brilliant grin,

  which lights up the gray morning.

  Even at dawn on a sixday, Nock’s

  spaceport is bustling. A sharp contrast to

  New Brunny’s sleepy start. Port workers in

  their blue and yellow unis scurry between

  berths, like a swarm of bees. Probably

  loading for runs to the Bauz Cycler, since

  that’s due to pass Kuseros today on its way

  to the outer system planets. As I move

  towards the office, I nod to the few workers

  whose faces I recognize. I don’t know their

  names, and I’ve been careful to make sure

  they don’t know mine. That’s not going to

  change. To everyone but Kez and her crew, I

  need to remain a ghost.

  Thea, unfortunately, does know my name,

  or at least my pseudonym, and she greets me

  with a cheerful, “Snowy!” as we walk

  through the office block’s sliding doors.

  Behind me, Kez muffles a snort.

  Thea’s smile dims a little when she

  notices Kez. “Who’s your friend?” she asks.

  She doesn’t snarl, but her cheerfulness is

  forced.

  “This is Kez. Kez, Thea.”

  Thea looks Kez up and down, decides

  that Kez’s assets are inferior to hers, and

  leans over her desk to emphasize the point.

  Kez walks over to the desk and offers her

  hand to Thea. “Snow’s told me a lot about

  you.”

  Thea considers Kez’s hand for a second

  before shaking. “None of it good, if I know

  him.”

  She doesn’t, but I refrain from

  commenting. Kez leans on the edge of Thea’s

  desk and smiles. “Actually, he says you take

  really good care of him.”

  Bullshit, I’ve never said anything like

  that. But Thea doesn’t know that and she

  beams. “I take care of all my boys.”

  I bet she does. “Thea, something come in

  for me?” I hold up the flashing Multi.

  She nods and hands a slip of flimsy to

  Kez. “Consumables, right? They’re just

  clearing. I’ve scheduled them for delivery

  straight to your berth.”

  “Thanks. Would you file a flight plan for

  me? Kuus and back.”

  “Of course. Fly safe.”

  “Will do. C’mon.” I hold my hand out to

  Kez. She slides off Thea’s desk, takes my

  hand and follows me out.

  As we cross the port, Kez holds the

  flimsy out in front of us. “What do these

  symbols mean? I don’t recognize most of

  them.”

  I identify them for her. “The line at the

  top, those are ship and port codes. Second

  line is shipment
arrival time and who logged

  it. Third line is shipment type. Each port on

  Kuseros uses its own shipment codes, so

  don’t bother learning those. You can always

  get the ship’s computer to give you a

  translation.”

  Kez nods as she scans the flimsy again.

  “Got it . . . Snowy.”

  I elbow her. “Kitten.”

  She giggles, intent on the flimsy. I get the

  sense she’s memorizing the codes, even

  though I told her not to bother.

  “Not that I give a fuck,” I say. “But what

  was that shit your sister was slinging about

  you failing v-school?”

  Kez hunches one shoulder. “She wasn’t

  lying. I was bad at school.”

  “Didn’t like it?” I put my arm around her.

  She shrugs. Leans into me. “I just

  couldn’t do it. I couldn’t concentrate.

  Couldn’t remember things. It got better after I

  went to the House. But I still had to repeat

  another year. I dropped out as soon as I

  could. That’s when Liv took me on full-

  time.” She slides the flimsy into one of her

  bag’s many pockets. “My memory’s gotten a

  lot better since then.”

  I reach up and ruffle her stubble. Tuck

  her head onto my shoulder. “There’s nothin’

  wrong with your memory. Or your brain.”

  School isn’t for everyone, but that aside,

  she’d lost half her family and was trying to

  survive on her own. No wonder she was

  distracted. I keep her tight against my side

  until we reach the Marie. “In you go. You’re

  flying us to Kuus, so prep the ship, Captain.

  I’ll load the cargo when it gets here.”

  She tilts her head to look up at me. “Does

  being Captain mean I get sixty-five percent?”

  “Fuck, no.” I push her up the Marie’s

  ramp and swat her ass. “This is a flying

  lesson. Five hundred plus expenses.”

  “I paid for the paddle and the vibrator

  and the lube,” she says over her shoulder.

  The little monster stirs at the reminder of

  what we did last night. Even that faint rumble

  stings. Fuck, I’m sore. “I’ll make you buy me

  a whip if you don’t get your ass in gear.”

  She wiggles that saucy ass at me as she

  sways up the ramp and into the ship.

  I haven’t known many rat-men, and my

  acquaintances haven’t been of a long

  duration, but it seems to me that they don’t do

  things by halves. Rat One wasn’t fucking

  around when he tried to kill us, and Acker

  isn’t fucking around when he sends us fifteen

  crates full of food. Each crate weighs over

  ten metric tons, and the fifteen of them fill

  two of the Marie’s cargo holds. Even with

  the funnel, it takes me a half-hour to load

  them all and by the time I swing into the

  pilot’s chair next to Kez, the Twins are up

  and she’s polarized the viewer against their

  bright morning glare.

  “How many fucking rats are there in

  Kuus?” I ask as I check Kez’s pre-flight,

  which is perfect.

  “At a guess, maybe a hundred. I don’t

  know. Why?”

  “Acker sent enough food for a month.”

  “Is that what was taking you so long? I

  thought you’d gotten lost back there.”

  “Just givin’ you time to prep the ship. In

  case you had to do somethin’ over.”

  It takes her a moment to process, then

  Kez sticks out her tongue at me, a gesture I

  see reflected in the central viewer.

  I smile back at her, both because I enjoy

  teasing her, and because I’m pleased she

  accepts my teasing for what it is. “We’re

  good to go, kitten. Take her up. Make sure to

  give that fucker a big kiss when you rotate

  the pods.” I nod at the Starflare sitting in the

  next bay, which is considerably less shiny

  than it was a day ago.

  Kez wasn’t kidding about the drop-off. I

  hover the ship over a hole that looks like it

  descends to the planet’s fucking core. I’ve

  never heard of this pit and looking down into

  the drop, I can see why no one uses it. The

  pit walls are sheer. They widen out slightly

  near the top, and there’s a shadow at the

  bottom of the pit that suggests a bulge in the

  crumbling rock. The pit’s shaped like a flask.

  No wonder the govvies abandoned it. The

  whole thing looks on the verge of collapse.

  I flick my eyes across the readings from

  the Marie’s sensors. She’s designed for

  space, but she’s got a cortex scanner. It tells

  me that the ground is a mix of calcite and

  Bresford stone, a decorative native rock so

  soft you can carve it with a knife. Definitely

  not the ideal place to land.

  “Can you see anything down there?” I ask

  Kez. I can’t see anything in the shadow, but

  the cat’s eye doesn’t do much for me when

  I’m looking from bright light into shadow,

  and my kitten has good eyes.

  She shakes her head.

  “Let’s hope this doesn’t drop a ton of

  rock onto the rats’ heads.” Better them than

  us, though. I rotate the Marie’s secondary

  engines and point them at the walls of the pit.

  Give a quick thrust that bounces us up a

  hundred meters into the clouds. A plume of

  dust rises out of the pit.

  “Fuck,” Kez says. I hear her swallow

  hard. I take a deep breath to settle my own

  stomach and drop us down slow while I

  watch the infrared scan. The blast from the

  engines has triggered some minor rock-fall,

  but I don’t see any serious cave-ins.

  “Here we go,” I tell Kez. I take it slow,

  easing us down into the pit. Ready with the

  secondary thrusters to bounce us out if any

  big rocks start falling on us. The engines kick

  up more dust as we lower into the pit,

  leaving me relying on the infrared to

  maneuver. A nerve-rattling pinging begins on

  the canopy overhead. I flick down the

  shutters to protect the viewscreens. If the

  infrared goes, I’ll be flying blind, but I’ve

  got her lined up nice and tight now, and

  better a blind drop than a cracked

  viewscreen. Those fuckers are expensive to

  repair.

  A proximity alert pops up on the central

  display a moment before I expect it to and I

  ease off on the controls just a fraction.

  Nerves making me tweak the juice. I take

  another deep breath, tap the landing cushion,

  and settle the Marie onto the uneven floor of

  the pit.

  Kez begins to unstrap herself, but I hold

  out a hand. “Give it a moment. She’s self-

  leveling.”

  The ship, and the fluid in my inner ear,

  rock. Almost worse than our bounce into the

  clouds. I wait until the ship and my stomach

  are both good and level before
I flick off the

  flight harness.

  Kez climbs out of the co-pilot’s chair

  slowly. She’s gone an interesting shade of

  green. Her mouth is compressed to a tight

  line.

  “If you’re gonna puke, use the passenger

  ‘fresher,” I tell her. There’s a fresher in the

  cockpit, but it’s built into a wall of

  instrumentation. It takes a couple of minutes

  to unfold and is a bitch to clean.

  She scowls at me. “I’m not going to

  puke.”

  I chuckle. I love how easy she is to tease.

  “You gonna play meet-and-greet with your

  friend Diamond while I unload?”

  “He’s not my favorite person.” She

  suddenly brightens. “The rats seem to like

  you. How about you shake paw while I

  unload? It didn’t look that hard.”

  I sling my arm around her shoulders. Rub

  my fingertips over the slick neopoly covering

  her triceps. She’s wearing another of her

  black tops, this one with longer sleeves since

  today is cooler than yesterday, over a pair of

  leggings snug enough to show off the

  musculature of those runner’s legs, patterned

  with an abstract pattern of interlocking

  circles. Each circle is burned out so her pale

  skin shows through. I like the way she

  dresses. And I love that she dressed today

  especially for me. “Only thing you should be

  doin’ in that outfit is dancing ‘round a pole.”

  “Are you saying I look like a stripper?”

  I tilt my head. “Maybe a vloop dancer.”

  She kicks me in the ankle. “How would

  you feel about dancing around on a bunch of

  broken toes?”

  “Ow.” I give her a retaliatory nip on the

  ear, pinkly exposed now that she’s lost her

  hair. “C’mon, let’s go meet your furry little

  friends.”

  But there’s no one to meet us. Just a

  utilitarian gray container, spattered with dust

  and dented by a few falling rocks, sitting at

  the mouth of a tunnel that leads out of the

  otherwise empty pit. I pull Kez up at the

  bottom of the Marie’s ramp and wait for

  several long seconds, watching and listening.

  There’s nothing but the occasional rattle of

  falling stone. After I’m sure there’s nothing

  lurking in the shadows, I release Kez and

  start unslinging the cargo funnel.

  “Aren’t you going to check the box?” Kez

  asks.

  “Naw, load it up.” If the rats have fucked

  us, they’ve fucked us. There’s no one around

  to confront, and I’m not venturing into their