Our Lady of the Ice
Page 44
When Marianella finished, Sofia dropped her hand to the side.
“You know I can kill him for you,” Sofia said.
“No.” Marianella shook her head and then collapsed into a nearby chair. “No, that’s not what I want to do.”
“You’re too generous,” Sofia said. “You told me yourself that he killed Inéz just to frighten us, to scare me out of working with Cabrera. How could you possibly let this man live?”
Marianella sat very still. She remembered praying in the ballroom.
“I don’t want anyone else to die,” Marianella said. “This city, this new city, it’s my dream too. A place for people like me.”
Sofia didn’t say anything.
“And I don’t want it to be founded on blood. Not any more than it has been already.” Tears formed in Marianella’s eyes. She blinked, hoping they would disappear. “I know how to discredit Alejo Ortiz. But if we do it, then I have to go away.”
Sofia opened her mouth to protest.
“Only for a little while,” Marianella said. “While you take the city. I know you can do it. Everything’s already starting to fall into place. Soon, people won’t want to live here. It’ll be easy to convince them to leave. For you to take control. And then you’ll open the doors to all the robots of the world. And all the cyborgs.” She smiled a little, the warmth of pride swelling inside her chest. “Those blackouts he devised, those will help, won’t they? That’s why you shouldn’t treat the drones, not right now.”
Sofia stared at her. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
Marianella took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you something. And you can go public with it. Use your city contacts. I just can’t be on the continent when it happens.”
Sofia’s face went dark.
“Alejo Ortiz took funding from the AFF,” Marianella said. “For his campaigns. They’re one of his largest contributors, in fact. All secret. When Hope City achieved its independence, Alejo would become president, of course, and at that point he’d officially pardon the AFF as actual freedom fighters.”
“They would be,” Sofia said. “Freedom fighters.”
“They’re terrorists,” Marianella said. “And that’s how the city sees them now. If you take that information public, Alejo will be arrested and deported to the mainland. They won’t let him back into the city.”
Sofia’s eyes glittered in a way that made Marianella feel hollow.
“I remember the day I told him about my nature. We were in the Dockside Motel. The neon lights were shining through the window.” Marianella laughed at the memory, and it was a laugh like a stab wound. “He’d already told me about the AFF by then. I thought trading secrets would be romantic, like trading wedding rings. I’m so stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Sofia said. “Only naive.”
And then she walked across the room and sat on the arm of Marianella’s chair. She brushed the hair away from Marianella’s face. “It’ll only be temporary,” she said. “Your departure.”
“Yes, of course. When the city completely belongs to you, I’ll come back.”
“You can’t possibly go alone.”
“I won’t.” Marianella took a deep breath and lifted her face to Sofia’s. “Book passage for Eliana as well. I promised her you could do that in exchange for her helping me find out about the virus, and it will be good to have a human with me.” Marianella wondered when that had happened, when she’d begun thinking of humans as something other.
“It’s too dangerous,” Sofia said. “A human can’t make that trip yet.”
“Your icebreakers are safer than any run by the city. I trust you.” Tears glossed Marianella’s eyes. “You need to be rid of Alejo as soon as you can. Even if it’s just for me, for what he did.”
“We’ll find some other way,” Sofia said, cupping her hand under Marianella’s chin.
“There is no other way.” Marianella looked at her. “Unless you want to leave the city to the humans.”
There was a moment, brief and flickering, when Marianella thought that Sofia would agree. That she would give up her goals, just to keep Marianella at her side.
But then it was gone.
“If it’s the only way,” Sofia said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ELIANA
Eliana smoked a cigarette in front of her tenement building. It was late enough at night that even the smokestack district was silent. No voices echoed through the night, no music spilled out of the windows. The air was still and cold. It reminded Eliana of the amusement park.
A suitcase sat at her feet. It contained as much of her life as she could put into one piece of luggage. Which, as it turned out, wasn’t much at all.
She smoked her cigarette down to the filter and flicked the butt into the darkness. She hadn’t said good-bye to anyone. Not Maria, not Essie, although she hoped both of them would stop thinking of this place as home and heed her warnings and get out of the city if they could. She couldn’t say good-bye to Diego. At least her parents had memorials at the mausoleum, twin urns with twin plaques. But she hadn’t said good-bye to them, either.
It was too risky even to say good-bye to the dead. Ortiz could be watching the mausoleum. The only thing that Eliana had done to prepare was to look up Mr. Vasquez’s forwarding address. At least they’d have a place to go once they landed on the mainland.
The clock tower struck three. Eliana jumped at the sudden noise. Just as the last gong faded away, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of Eliana’s building. Luciano stepped out and opened the door for her.
“Miss Gomez,” he said, and his soft voice sounded like screaming in the darkness.
Eliana picked up her suitcase and carried it down to the car. Luciano took it from her and slid it into the trunk. Marianella had called her yesterday afternoon and told her the payment for helping Sofia was ready. Eliana had thanked her and placed the phone back into the cradle and stood there with her head buzzing. Last night Eliana couldn’t sleep. The knowledge that her dream was so close to becoming real kept her up. She’d ridden the trains with no destination in mind, staring out at the gray buildings and the gray people and the silver-gray light of the streetlamps. She’d gone to the edge of the city and put her hand against the dome’s glass. And she knew nothing was keeping her here.
It wasn’t a decision. It was just a fact. Hope City was no longer Eliana’s home.
Marianella and Sofia were sitting side by side in the backseat. Eliana sat across from them. She felt empty without her suitcase. Marianella smiled when Eliana climbed in, but she didn’t say anything.
The driver’s door slammed shut, and the engine hummed to life. Luciano pulled the car away from the sidewalk. When Eliana tried to look out the window, she only saw her reflection.
Marianella and Sofia didn’t speak. They didn’t look at each other. But Eliana noticed how Sofia’s hand was laid on top of Marianella’s, a gesture of comfort she’d never expected to see.
Eliana didn’t speak either. After all, there was nothing to say.
They arrived at the docks, which were as desolate as the smokestack district. The air was colder than Eliana had expected. Luciano opened the door again, Eliana’s suitcase sitting at his feet. They stood off to the side as Marianella and Sofia climbed out of the car. Sofia pulled Marianella’s suitcase out of the trunk and held it for her. Marianella smiled.
“The ship is waiting for you,” Luciano said—unnecessarily, because there was only one ship in the water, an old cruise ship, all the painted figures along the side faded into ghosts. The gangplank was down.
“Give us a moment,” Sofia said.
Luciano nodded, and then gestured for Eliana to follow him on board the ship. She trailed behind him, breathing in the scent of salt and metal. When they reached the gangplank, she looked over at Marianella and So
fia. They were kissing in a pool of yellow light from the streetlamps, Sofia’s hands in Marianella’s hair, Marianella clutching at Sofia’s dress like the world was ending.
Eliana stared in surprise. She couldn’t help herself.
“We should give them privacy,” Luciano said softly into her ear.
“Are they really—” Eliana didn’t quite know how to ask the question. She looked away, over to Luciano. Her face burned. He didn’t seem particularly bothered.
“I believe they love each other,” he said, and carted Eliana’s suitcase up the gangplank.
Eliana looked over at Marianella and Sofia again. They weren’t kissing anymore, but their bodies were pressed close together, and they looked at each other the way Eliana had once looked at Diego. It struck her as strange that Sofia could love at all.
Eliana left them to each other.
Luciano was waiting for her on the walkway of the ship. He smiled at her like a porter and led her away from the gangplank. Walking into the ship was like walking into catacombs. The hallways were narrow and low-ceilinged, and the few scattered lights flickered in time with their footsteps. Everything was old and stank of the sea.
“How long is the trip going to take?” Eliana asked. She thought about asking him about the reprogramming that Marianella had mentioned, but she wasn’t sure it would be appropriate.
“About two weeks.” Luciano glanced at her. “But there’s enough food and water to last for four, in case of an emergency. The ship is connected to the operations room at the amusement park, so you’ll always been in contact with Sofia.”
Eliana nodded. Two weeks and she’d be on the mainland, where she had always wanted to be. All the humans in Hope City would be there soon enough. Sofia’s takeover was inevitable. Eliana just hoped she’d let the humans leave.
“Your cabin,” Luciano said, stopping in front of a door. “Marianella is across the hall.” He pushed the door open and turned on the lights. The cabin was spacious, with two glass doors leading out onto a balcony. Everything in the cabin looked brand-new, and the lights didn’t flicker.
“Sofia.”
Eliana jumped; it was Marianella’s voice. She turned around, and Marianella stood in the hallway alone, carrying her own suitcase.
“Yes.” Luciano smiled. “She wanted it to be a surprise.”
Marianella wiped at her eyes. “Tell her ‘thank you’ for me.”
And then she disappeared into her own cabin across the hall.
Luciano set Eliana’s suitcase on the bed.
“The ship will be departing soon,” he said. “I’m afraid I have to stay in Antarctica.”
“I know.” Eliana watched him from across the room. She didn’t want to leave him without saying good-bye.
“I’ll miss you,” she said, and she meant it, because he had been a comfort to her in these last few weeks in Antarctica.
“I’ll miss you as well.” He walked up to her and pulled something out of his jacket. It was one of the books he was always reading, slim, the cover dark blue. “I wanted to give this to you.”
Eliana stared down at the book, surprised. Yellow letters spelled out Le Petit Prince in curlicue script.
“A book,” she said stupidly.
“Yes, I enjoyed it quite a bit. I think you will like it as well.”
Eliana couldn’t take her eyes off the book. “Is it in French?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know French.”
“I think you could learn.” Luciano pressed the book into Eliana’s hand, and she wrapped her fingers around it and didn’t want to let go.
He smiled. Eliana thought how this would be the last time she’d see him smile, and she wondered if she’d find someone to share walks with on the mainland. If she’d find someone who knew how to listen. “Have a nice journey,” he said.
“I’ll try.”
They stood in a heavy silence. Neither of them moved for several moments.
And then he said, “I hope you enjoy your first real rainstorm. Perhaps when you see it, you’ll remember me.”
Something quivered inside Eliana. There was a sense of waking up. “I’m sure I will,” she said, and she knew it wouldn’t just be the first rainstorm, but all the rainstorms she’d ever encounter.
And then, like that, Luciano was gone.
Eliana sat in her room for a while, in the chair beside the window. She flipped through the book’s pages and tried to decipher the words. Some of them were similar to words she knew, but there weren’t enough of them for her to understand the story. She thought about knocking on Marianella’s door but decided that Marianella must want to be alone. Although really, Eliana knew, she wanted to be alone.
The ship engines switched on.
Eliana straightened up in her chair. The engines roared around her, a cottony white noise that created a buzzing in her head. She’d never heard anything like it.
And then the room lurched and there was a great groaning from outside, and Eliana knew they were leaving Hope City.
The realization that she would never see the city again hit her like a punch.
Eliana set the book on the bed and left the room and jogged through the corridors. The ship creaked and moaned, and Eliana was struck with the thought that she was the only human thing aboard.
The corridor opened suddenly onto an outside deck. The wind rushing over her was colder than any she’d ever experienced, and she knew she wasn’t dressed properly, but she pulled her coat more tightly around her chest. Five minutes wouldn’t kill her.
The lights of the docks twinkled in the distance. Eliana stood in the center of the deck and watched the city grow smaller. She didn’t cry. As much as she had wanted to see the city lights one last time, she didn’t feel anything but a vague sense of hope, like the city’s name came from leaving it.
And then, without warning, the sky was dotted with light.
Stars. She’d only ever seen pictures.
The ship had passed through the dome wall without Eliana realizing, and now those millions and millions of stars swirled overhead. Eliana craned her head back, her breath solidifying on the air, and stared at them in wonder. Pictures hadn’t prepared her for the enormity of the night sky, the enormity of the world beyond the dome.
And then the stars were falling, in fits and starts, drifting and scattering across the deck. No, not stars—snow.
Eliana shivered violently. Soon the cold would be too much, and she’d have to go down below and find solace in the manufactured heat. But in this moment, this last good-bye, she stood in the biting wind with her head tilted back so the snowflakes could melt on her tongue.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A whole heaping of thanks goes out to all the people who helped shaped this book into what it has become today:
My beta reader and podcast partner in crime, Alexandre Maki, who not only helped with characters and plot, but who also reminded me where adjectives go in Portuguese.
My agent, Stacia Decker, who saw me through several drafts of this book and whose feedback was, as always, excellent—without her, this book would never have gotten to the state in which you’re currently reading it.
My editor, Navah Wolfe, who helped polish the final draft to perfection.
All my writing buddies, the Space City Critters, especially Amanda Cole, Bobby Mathews, David Young, and Laura Lam, who are always there to help me through writerly rough patches. And a special shout-out to Amanda for asking an Anonymous Internet Person for some advice on Argentine culture; any mistakes are my own, not his.
And finally, a huge thanks to my parents for supporting my writing since I was a kid, and to Ross Andrews, whose support always sees me through.
About the Author
&
nbsp; Photo by Brittany Lincoln
CASSANDRA ROSE CLARKE grew up in southern Texas and currently lives in a suburb of Houston, where she writes and teaches composition at a local college. She graduated in 2006 from the University of St. Thomas with a BA in English, and two years later she completed her master’s degree in creative writing at the University of Texas at Austin. In 2010 she attended the Clarion West Writers Workshop in Seattle, where she was a recipient of the Susan C. Petrey Clarion Scholarship Fund. Cassandra’s first adult novel, The Mad Scientist’s Daughter, was a finalist for the 2014 Philip K. Dick Award, and her YA novel, The Assassin’s Curse, was nominated for YALSA’s 2014 Best Fiction for Young Adults. Her short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons and Daily Science Fiction. Visit her at cassandraroseclarke.com.
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www.SimonandSchuster.com * This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. * Text copyright © 2015 by Cassandra Rose Clarke * Cover photograph (woman) copyright © 2015 by Federico Bebber * Cover photographs (dome and city) copyright © 2015 by Getty Images * All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. * SAGA PRESS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc. * For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or business@simonandschuster.com. * The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. * The text for this book is set in Sabon LT. * Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data * Clarke, Cassandra Rose, 1983– * Our lady of the ice / Cassandra Rose Clarke.—First edition. * p. cm. * Summary: “A female PI comes into conflict with a ruthless gangster just as both humans and robots agitate for independence in a domed Argentinian colony in Antarctica.”—Publisher. * ISBN 978-1-4814-4426-2 (hardcover) * ISBN 978-1-4814-4428-6 (eBook) * 1. Women private investigators—Fiction. I. Title. * PS3603.L372O87 2015 * 813'.6—dc23 * 2014039598