Our Lady of the Ice

by Cassandra Rose Clarke

  The sign cast red light across the parking lot. It made the ember in Diego’s cigarette burn orange. Diego pushed into the bar, keeping his head low. There were only a few guys there, mostly workers for the storage facilities, going by their jumpsuits. He took a chair next to the jukebox and ordered a beer. Lit another cigarette. Every muscle in his body ached.

  Diego had been afraid of this happening from the moment he’d first met Eliana at that party a year and a half ago. They’d talked for an hour outside, and he’d looked at her in the shadows and thought that if he let this go further, she’d be in danger one way or another. And he’d almost walked away, then and there, just left her standing in the dark. But he was too selfish, and he hadn’t.

  And now here he was. Mr. Cabrera knew who she was and wanted to kill her after Marianella was taken care of. Mr. Cabrera, who might as well be his father. It wasn’t fucking fair. He shouldn’t have to do it. Not to her. Anyone else, he’d do it. But not Eliana.

  One of the storage workers came over to the jukebox and put on one of those Spanish covers of some British rock-and-roll song. Diego half-recognized it. The worker bobbed his head in time to the music, hair falling over his eyes. He seemed to be studiously avoiding Diego. Exactly what Diego liked about this place.

  He took a long drag on his cigarette.

  And then all of the Horse and Cart started vibrating like an earthquake, and then it flooded with white-hot light.

  Diego stumbled out of his chair, his ears ringing. He couldn’t hear the music anymore, just the muffled thump of its beat. The guy at the jukebox wasn’t there—he’d raced across the room. An explosion, Diego realized, like a gunshot but more. It’d been so sudden, he hadn’t known what was happening. The bar wasn’t shaking anymore, but the light was still there, red-yellow and flickering. Fire. Fucking fire.

  Diego limped across the room. The workers were all crowded around a window, shouting curses at each other. He couldn’t see much, only the red-yellow light.

  He went outside.

  He did it without thinking, and it wasn’t until the cold air struck his face that he realized the explosion and the fire could have been the glass of the main dome, that he was running out into the fierce Antarctic wind. But no—it was just the cold of being at the dome’s edge.

  The fire raged on the other side of the glass.

  Diego stared, his mouth hanging open. The ice coated on the dome melted in long, pale streaks. It turned to water that turned to steam. The fire didn’t seem that far away. It was close enough that its glow drowned out the red light of the sign. Diego took a shaking step backward. He wasn’t sure if fire could burn through the snow. He wasn’t sure what could even burn at all out there. They didn’t put the private domes on this side of the city. Too cold, too far away from the train stations.

  And then the service entrance slid open. Cold air and black smoke billowed in. Diego slammed up against his car and fumbled around for his gun. He didn’t know what to make of that open service entrance. He didn’t know what to make of any of it.

  The maintenance drones arrived, gliding two by two over the glass, disappearing out the entrance. He watched them go, like ants.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  MARIANELLA

  The ground shook.

  Marianella was stretched out on a divan in the Ice Palace, trying to sleep after a night of restless tossing. The sensation only lasted for thirty seconds before disappearing. The earth was moving and then it wasn’t. Marianella lay motionless, waiting for the shudder to happen again. It didn’t.

  She sat up. That burst of movement wasn’t something a human would feel; it was her robot body, fine-tuned to recognize patterns in the world around her. But this wasn’t a pattern. It was a single occurrence.

  Something was wrong.

  She went to find Sofia. The palace was empty and echoing, and she cast long dark shadows along the walls as she walked through the hallways. She had to get to operations, where one of the computers was programmed to track the movements of robots in the park. Sofia had shown her how to access it, after that night in the ballroom. The night that had brought everything back.

  Marianella burst out into the chilled, shimmering night. The gardens rustled around her. She fingered the cross at her neck and whispered the Fatima prayer to herself, over and over. But praying didn’t help.

  Something had happened. She felt it shuddering through her bones, just as she had felt the movement in the ground. It was like the night the warehouse had caught on fire.

  The entire way to operations, she kept one hand on her necklace, feeling her heart beat beneath it.

  Marianella expected to find operations empty, but to her relief Sofia was sitting in the room’s center, mooning over the big hulking computer that had once controlled all the attractions in the Ice Palace. Marianella didn’t know what it did now.

  “Did you feel that?” she asked from the doorway, still touching her cross, still touching her heart.

  Sofia glanced at her. She didn’t answer right away. Marianella could see that she was considering lying.

  “Yes.”

  “What was it?”

  “I don’t know.” She was hooked into her computer, a thin wire emerging from behind her ear. She couldn’t be that deeply hooked, though, not if she was able to speak with Marianella. “I don’t know everything that happens in the city.”

  “You want to run it someday,” Marianella snapped. “It seems like you’d keep track of things.”

  Sofia regarded her coolly, then turned back to the computer. “I’m monitoring the park. To ensure no one is coming for you or the human girl.”

  Marianella’s cheeks warmed. She couldn’t put her frustration into words. She looked out over the operations room. It was still full of old human artifacts, not just the electronics that ran the park but old photographs and stacks of triplicate forms and pens. Sofia had shoved it all into the storage shelves in the corner, and it was there that Marianella spotted a radio.

  Marianella walked over to the shelf and collected the radio. Sofia glanced at the movement but said nothing. Marianella plugged it into the wall. It erupted into life, the speaker turned too high to a station that was no longer there. Static roared through the room.

  Sofia detached herself from the computer.

  Marianella spun through the dial and stopped on the news station.

  “No word yet from the city offices about the explosion, but reporters are standing by.”

  “Sofia,” Marianella said in a low, warning tone.

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  Marianella took a few steps away from the radio, her arms crossed over her chest, and listened.

  “One thing is for certain: the explosion did not occur at the main dome, and as of right now Hope City is in no danger of freezing or losing power. However, train lines have been shut down and will remain so indefinitely. It’s suggested that people return to their homes in case of further emergency.”

  An explosion outside the main dome. That meant one of the private domes, where the wealthy lived. Where Southstar was. Where—

  “No,” she whispered, thinking of the rows of corn, the wheat, the fruit. Hope City is in no danger of freezing. But something was.

  “I have with me Dr. Raul Alvarez, a roboticist for the city, who assures me this is in no way caused by a mechanical failure. Dr. Alvarez—”

  “Told you I didn’t have anything to do with it.” Sofia appeared behind Marianella and put her hand on Marianella’s waist. Maria­nella closed her eyes. Dr. Alvarez prattled on about the safety of the maintenance drones. “Where was it?” Marianella said, and she picked up the radio and shook it like it might give her the answers. “Which dome was it?”

  Dr. Alvarez continued with his analysis. Marianella slumped down. Sweat prickled over her skin. How human of her.

 
Gently, Sofia took the radio out of her hands and set it on the table.

  “I’m sure your house is fine,” Sofia said. “Cabrera wants me to kill you, don’t you remember?”

  “Why would I care about my house?” Marianella took a deep breath. “I’m worried—” She didn’t want to say it, because saying it out loud might make it real.

  “Thank you, Dr. Alvarez. For those of you just tuning in, another explosion has occurred, this one outside the city walls.”

  Marianella took deep gulping breaths, and Sofia pulled her close, lay her chin on Marianella’s shoulder.

  “The explosion has damaged a private dome. No word yet on who it belongs to or if anyone was harmed, but it appears it was not a place of residence.”

  “Oh God.”

  “You don’t know for certain,” Sofia said. “It could have been one of the private parks.”

  “And how do you know that?” Marianella snapped. “You sent one of your drones to bomb a park?”

  “No, of course not. I promise you. I swear to you.”

  A forcefulness that Marianella did not expect reverberated through Sofia’s voice.

  “I’ll send you a maintenance drone,” Sofia said. “Look back through its memory files. You’ll see I had nothing to do with this. If I had to guess the culprit, it would be Cabrera. He knows I haven’t killed you yet. He’s probably trying to draw me out—draw both of us out.”

  Marianella wiped at her eyes, which were itching with imminent tears. She hadn’t heard from Alejo since he’d come down to the park the day after the ball. What if he hadn’t been able to pay off Cabrera, even as the AFF? She should have expected this.

  “I have to find out for sure,” Marianella said. “If it’s my dome or not.”

  “You can access the maintenance drones from the park call box, then.”

  “I can’t. The ag drones can’t be accessed remotely. And I’m not sending one of the park drones either,” Marianella added before Sofia could say anything. “They’ll draw too much attention if it is the dome.” Marianella’s voice wavered. She shook her head. “No, I’m going myself.”

  “What? I just told you this is probably a trap. Cabrera’s men are likely waiting for you. And even if they’re not, there will be city investigators.”

  “I’ve beat his men before,” Marianella said. “I can do it again if necessary. And the investigators can’t stay out for so long in the cold. I’ll wait until they’re gone.” She paused. “Besides, I know the dome. I know how to hide.”

  “No.” Sofia shook her head. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Too dangerous?” Marianella snapped. “You didn’t think it was too dangerous when I accompanied Eliana into the city!”

  Sofia’s expression flashed with anger. “Of course I thought that was too dangerous. But there wasn’t anything I could do to stop you. And this is different. This is worse.” She paused. “You have to stay here until I’ve taken care of Cabrera.”

  Marianella flushed. She didn’t know how to respond to the idea that Sofia cared for her so strongly.

  “I’ve devoted myself to that agricultural dome for almost a year,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand. You just want to ship all the humans to the mainland. I’ve told you, the ag dome is the only way for independence that will work. And it isn’t stupid to want to find out if it’s been destroyed. To want to know for certain.” She ­trembled. “Sofia, if you care about me—”

  “Fine,” Sofia said. “You’re going to sit here and play at being human and not listen to reason, so just go.”

  “I’m not playing at being human,” Marianella said.

  “You’re acting like one,” Sofia said. “But if you’re going to leave, at least take a maintenance drone with you.”

  Marianella could not stop shaking. Sofia leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. “Don’t let him find you,” she whispered.

  With that, Marianella left.

  * * * *

  Even the train going in and out of the amusement park was shut down, so Marianella walked. It took a long time, to weave her way through the city. The streets were deserted, the shops all closed, the houses shut up tight. Marianella’s feet echoed against the sidewalk, and she remained alert to the possibility of Ignacio’s men crawling out of the shadows. But she never saw anyone.

  Maintenance drones scuttled on the dome glass overhead, casting thin wavering shadows over the sidewalk. They were following her. An army of drones to keep her safe.

  Through her icy dread, a surge of warmth pulsed in Marianella’s heart.

  It took her almost an hour to reach the nearest exit. While she walked, she thought about the agricultural dome, about everything she’d done to see it built. All the money she’d invested, all the robots she’d programmed. All so she could prove to the world, to herself, that she was human after all.

  Maybe Sofia was right. Maybe she was only playing at being human. The thought made Marianella’s chest hurt.

  Marianella thought the exit might be blocked off, guarded, but no one was there. And why would they be? It was winter. Any human would die in the cold before they had a chance to escape.

  A drone dropped down from the ceiling and landed at Maria­nella’s feet. She pressed her hand against its sensor, and it told her in its jittery language that it was to keep her safe. Marianella closed her eyes. She thought about Sofia sitting in the operations room, how beautiful she was in the computer’s harsh lights.

  Marianella prayed to the Virgin Mary, and yet she saw Sofia’s face in her thoughts.

  “I’m ready,” she said to the maintenance drone, and it opened the door for her, and they stepped out into the cold.

  She hadn’t dressed as warmly as she should have, but her anxiety moved her forward, parallel to the wall of frozen light that was the city, past the private domes glowing in the distance. Ice formed over her hair and shoulders. Araceli would have to repair her again after this. She didn’t care.

  As they approached the agricultural dome, she smelled smoke.

  She stopped. Her body vibrated infinitesimally, keeping her human parts warm.

  “No,” she whispered, although she had known all along.

  She ran.

  She ran through the swirling snow, her movements clumsy and rough. The maintenance drone whirred behind her. She realized she was crying and that her tears had frozen to her cheeks like tiny ­icicles. The agricultural dome loomed overhead, another orb of light in the winter darkness, like the light from a human heart.

  It was broken.

  Marianella screamed, and her scream was lost with the wind. The dome’s glass was scorched and shattered. Half of it was gone. For a moment she could only stare. Then the maintenance drone chirped at her, and bumped against her leg like a cat, and she ­stumbled forward, blind in the snow.

  She didn’t care if anyone saw her. Didn’t care if Ignacio’s goons would be waiting for her in parkas and personal heaters. She was drawn toward the dome on a thread of tragedy—she didn’t want to see, but she had to see. She had to.

  Marianella came to the dome’s shattered edge. Antarctica had gotten in. All her plants were flash-frozen, snapped in place by coats of ice. Snowdrifts billowed over the crops and the empty paths. Nothing, not even a human in a parka, could survive in here.

  She stepped inside. Her feet crunched through the snow and the ice. The standing part of the dome blocked most of the wind, and so the air was still and hollow, even though she could hear the air’s whistle and howl as it moved past the gap in the glass.

  She was numb. Disbelieving. Like she was trapped in a dream.

  She walked past each of the crops in turn: corn, wheat, sorghum, potatoes, grapes, apples. The plants were still green beneath the ice, but she knew that wouldn’t last. In a day’s time they would be yellowed and dead.

 
Marianella wept, more icicles forming on her cheeks. The mainten­ance drone nudged her. She ignored it. She walked every path in the food dome, and then she walked to the train station. The tracks were empty. It was warmer here, farther away from the gaping hole in the glass. Warm enough that her frozen tears began to melt.

  She stood for a moment on the platform, listening to the wind. Then she jumped onto the tracks. She was unsteady on her feet from staying too long in the cold. The maintenance drone followed, beeping warnings at her.

  “I know you can ignore Sofia’s programming,” she said out loud.

  More beeping. She sighed, pressed her hand on the sensor to get it to shut up. She expected a message from Sofia, but instead there was an image, relayed by one of the maintenance drones in the main dome. At the place where the train tracks crossed over into the main dome stood a trio of men with guns. They were dressed like police officers, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “Well, then we’re going around the side,” she said.

  The maintenance drone fell silent. They moved together over the tracks. When they came to the dome’s edge, they veered off into the ice. Marianella didn’t feel the cold anymore. She only felt the empty nothingness that had appeared the moment she’d seen her shattered agricultural dome.

  They weren’t so long in the snow this time. The nearest entrance was not guarded, and when they came back inside, back into the flood of yellow heat, Marianella let out a soft frustrated sigh and slumped down on the gravel, her limbs jerky and limp. In any other circumstance the gravel would have been cold to the touch, but now it was like the surface of the sun.

  The maintenance robot sat beside her as she waited for the ice to melt. The drip, drip, drip of ice off her clothes and hair felt like surro­gate tears. It pooled around her. Her insides began to feel normal again, no more shaking or vibrations. She doubted that would last.