Near + Far

by Cat Rambo

  I leaned back to check my handiwork.

  "How does it look?" she said.

  "Like a big double spiral." The maze of ink rolled across her dark olive skin's surface. A series of skin cancers marked the swell of one buttock, the squalmous patches sliding under her baggy cargo pants. She sat almost shivering on a pile of pallets. We were at the recycling yard's edge. This section, out of the wind between two warehouses, was rarely visited and made a good place to sit and smoke or fuck or upgrade.

  I uncoiled a strand of memory and set to work, pressing it on the skin. I could see her shudder as the cold bond with her flesh took place. The wire glinted gold and purple, its surface set with an oily sheen. Here and there sections had gone bad and dulled to concrete gray, tinting the surrounding skin yellow.

  She shrugged her shirt back over her skinny torso. Her breasts gleamed in the early spring's evening light before disappearing under the slick white fabric. Reaching for her jacket, she wiggled her arms snakelike down the sleeves, flipping her shoulders underneath.

  "Is it hooked in okay?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "Won't know until I try to download something."

  "Got plans for it?"

  "I can think of things," she said. "Shall I do you now, Jonny?"

  "Yeah." I discarded my jacket and t-shirt, and leaned forward over the pallet while she applied the alcohol in cool swipes. The wind hit the liquid as it touched my skin and reduced it to chill nothingness. She drew a long swoop across my back.

  "What pattern are you making?"

  "Trying to do the same thing you did on mine." The slow circles grew like one wing, then another, on my shoulder blades. She paused, before she began laying in the memory.

  I don't know that you could call it pain but it's close. At the moment a biobit makes its way into your own system, it's as though the point of impact was exquisitely sensitive, and somewhere micrometers away, someone was doing something inconceivable to it.

  "Tomorrow are the Exams," she said. "Could see what I could download for that."

  I started to turn my head to look at her, but just then she laid down a curve of ice with a single motion. My jaw clenched.

  "And?" was all I managed.

  "One of us placed in a decent job would be a good thing."

  She laid more memory before she said "Two of us placed in one would be better."

  "Might end up separated."

  "Would it matter, a six-month, maybe a year or two, before we could work out a transfer?"

  I would have shrugged but instead sat still. "So you want to take that memory and jack in facts so you can pass the Exams and become an upstanding citizen?"

  She ignored my tone. "Even a little edge would help. Mainly executables, some sorting routines. Maybe a couple high power searches so I can extrapolate answers I can't find."

  The last of the memory felt like fire and ice as it seeped into my skin. She'd never mentioned the Exams in the two years we'd been together.

  You're not supposed to be able to emancipate until you're sixteen, but Grizz and I both left a few years early. My family had too many kids as it was and ended up getting caught in a squatter sweep. I came home and found the place packed up and vacant. The deli owner downstairs let me sleep in his back room for the first few months, sort of like an extra burglar alarm, but then he caught me stealing food and gave me the boot. After that, I made enough to eat by running errands for the block, and alternated between three or four sleeping spots I'd discovered on rooftops; while they're less sheltered, fewer punks or crazies make the effort to come up there and mess with you.

  Once I hooked up with Grizz, life got a little easier—I had someone to watch my back without it costing me a favor.

  We went around to Ajah's, hoping to catch him in one of his moods when he gets drunk on homemade booze and cooks enormous meals. Luck was with us—he was just finishing a curried mushroom omelet. It smelled like heaven.

  Three other people sat around his battered kitchen table, watching him work at the stove. Two I didn't know; the third was Lorelei. She gave me a long slow sleepy smile and Grizz and I nodded back at her.

  Ajah turned at our entrance and waved us in with his spatula. His jowls surged with a grin.

  "Jonny and Grizz, sit down, sit down," he said. "There is coffee." He signaled and one of the no-names, a short black man, grabbed us mugs, filled them full, and pushed them to us as we slid into chairs. I mingled mine with thin and brackish milk while Grizz sprinkled sweet into hers. The drink was bitter and hot, and chased the recycling yard's lingering chill from my bones. I could still feel the new memory on my skin, cold coils against my t-shirt's thin paper, so old its surface had fuzzed to velvet.

  Ajah worked at the poultry factory so he always had eggs and chicken meat. Sometimes they were surplus, sometimes stuff the factory couldn't sell. He'd worked out a deal with a guy in a fungi factory, so he always had mushrooms too. Brown rice and spices stretched it all out until Ajah could afford to feed a kitchen's worth of people at every meal. They brought him what they could to swap, but usually long after the fact of their faces at his table.

  Lorelei being here meant she must be down on her luck. As were we—the shelter we'd been counting on for the past year had gone broke, shut down for lack of funds, despite countless neighborhood fundraisers. No one had the script to spare for charity.

  Two grocery sacks filled with greenery sat on one counter. Someone had been dumpster diving, I figured, and brought their spoils to eke out the communal meal. A third sack was filled with apples and browned bananas, and I could feel my mouth watering at the thought.

  "I'm Jonny," I offered, glancing around the table. "She's Grizz."

  "Ajax," said the black man.

  "Mick," muttered the other stranger, a scruffy brown-haired kid. He wore a ragged poncho and his hair fell in slow dreads.

  "You know me," Lorelei said.

  Conversation faded and we listened to the oily sizzle of mushrooms frying on the stovetop and the refrigerator's hum against the background of city noise and traffic clamor. The still in the corner, full of rotten fruit and potatoes, burped once in counterpoint.

  "What's the news?" Ajah asked, ladling rice and mushrooms bound together with curry and egg onto plates and sliding them onto the table towards Lorelei and Grizz. Ajax, Mick, and I eyed them as they started eating, leaving the question to us.

  "Not much," I said.

  "Found a place to live yet?"

  "Jesus, gossip travels fast. How did you hear about the shelter?"

  "Beccalu came by and said she was heading to her cousin in Scranton. You two have people to stay with?"

  I shook my head as Grizz kept eating. "No one I've thought of yet. We need to head to the library tonight, though, figured we'd doss in the subway station there for a few hours, keep moving along for naps till it's morning. It's Exams tomorrow."

  "I know," Ajah said. "Look, why don't you stay here tonight? The couch folds out."

  I was surprised; I'd never heard Ajah make anyone an offer like that.

  "The Exams are your big chance. Get a good night's sleep and make the most of them. Face them fully charged."

  I rolled my eyes. "For what? Like there's a chance." But he and Grizz ignored me.

  "We need to make a library run still," she said.

  "Yeah, yeah, that's fine. I'm up till midnight, maybe later," Ajah told her.

  Despite my doubts, relief seeped into my bones. We'd been given a night's respite, and who knew what would happen after the Exams? "Thanks, Ajah," I said, and he grunted acknowledgement as he slid a plate before me.

  The portabella bits had been browned in curry powder and oil, and the eggs were fresh and good. Grizz ate methodically, scraping her plate free, but she looked up to catch my eye and gave me a heartfelt smile, rare on her square set face.

  As her gaze swung back to her plate, my glance tangled with Lorelei's. I could not read her expression.

  Lorelei and I used to pal arou
nd before Grizz and I met up. She and I grew up next to each other, and it's hard not to know someone intimately when you've shared hour after hour channel surfing while one mother or the other went out on work or errands. We suffered through the same street bullies and uninterested teachers. She was the first girl I ever kissed. You don't forget that.

  But I knew I wanted Grizz for keeps the first moment I saw her. She came swaggering into the shelter wearing a rabbit fur jacket and pseudo-leather pants. She'd been tricking in a swank bar, but then someone snatched all her hard-earned cash. So there she was, with a bruise on her face and a cracked wrist, but still holding herself hard and arrogant and the only person in the world who could glimpse the softness underneath was me, it seemed like. So I sauntered up, invited her outside for a smoke, and then within a half hour, we were pressed against the wall together, my hands up her shirt like I'd never touched tit before, feeling her firm little nipples against the skin of my palms.

  It's been her and me ever since. As far as I'm concerned, it'll always be that way.

  After eating, we helped wash dishes before heading to the library. We had to wait a half hour for a terminal to free. Finally a man gathered his tablet and stood, stretching his shoulders.

  "I'll wait," I said, and gestured Grizz forward.

  She nodded and went forward to slide her hand into the log-in gloves. Within a moment, her eyes had the glassy stare that means the meat's occupant is elsewhere.

  I looked around. Chairs and desks dotted the place, all of them occupied. I went outside to the parking garage for a smoke.

  Daylight had fled. At the structure's edge, where the street was dimly visible, I panhandled a dozen people before I found one willing to admit to smoking. I lit the cigarette, a Marlboro Brute, and leaned back against the wall, which was patchworked with graffiti layers. Maybe by the time I was done, a booth would have opened up. It was getting late, after all.

  I closed my eyes as the nicotine rush hit me. Footsteps came across the cement floor towards me. I opened my eyes.

  It was Lorelei. She wore a slick bright red jacket and lipstick to match over short skirt and chunky boots. Silver hoops all along each ear's edge, graduated to match her narrowing cartilage. She looked good. Very good.

  "Nice night, ain't it?" she said as she moved to lean on the wall beside me. "Gimme."

  I passed the smoke over and she took a drag.

  "Want to try something to make the nice night even nicer?" she asked, smiling as she leaned back to return the cigarette.

  "Meaning?"

  "It's good stuff." She fished in the jacket before holding out the lighter and one-hitter. The end was packed with gray lintish dust. "Never had better."

  I took the pipe and sparked it. The blue smoke rushed into my lungs like a fist, like a physical jolt and the world dropped half an inch beneath my feet. Everything was tinged with colors, an iridescence like gasoline on a rain puddle. I was standing there with Lorelei and at the same time I was on a vast dark plain, feeling the world teeter and slip.

  Lorelei watched me. On the side of her face was a new tattoo, a black floral design.

  "What's that?" I asked. I raised my hand, my fingers dripping colored fire and sparks. The drug curled and coiled through my veins, and I could feel my heart racing.

  "Maps," she said. "Executable that interfaces with a global database. Got a GPS here." She tapped a purple faceted gleam on one earlobe. "Drop me anywhere in the world, I'll know where I am."

  "Looks awful big to be a simple database interface."

  She shrugged, and took the pipe back. She tapped out the ashes with care before she tamped a new pinch of greenish leaf into the mouth. "Controls the GPS too, and some other crap."

  An expensive toy, but one that would qualify her for all sorts of delivery jobs. But she must be broke, to show up at Ajah's, I thought. It didn't make sense.

  "How're things?" I asked.

  Her shoulders twitched into another sullen shrug. "Got some deals in the works. Just a matter of time before something plays out."

  I glanced back at the library door. "I should go in, I'm waiting on a machine to clear."

  The drug still held me hard, and every moment was crystal clear as she raised her hand to stroke along my jaw. "I miss you sometimes, Jonny," she said, sounding out of breath.

  I didn't want to piss her off, so I used a move that's worked before. Catching her hand, I turned it palm down and pressed my lips against the knuckles before dropping it and taking a step backward.

  "See you around," I said.

  She didn't say anything back, just stood there looking at me as I turned and walked away.

  When I tried to log in, the drug prevented it. Every attempt shuddered and screeched along my nerves, so painful it brought tears to my eyes. But I kept trying and trying. A few cubicles down, I could see Grizz's back, hunched over her terminal, every particle intent. Learning. Preparing.

  I stared at the screen, which showed the library logo and the welcome menu, all options grayed out, and cursed Lorelei and myself. Mostly myself. After an hour of pretending to work, I slipped away.

  Another hour later, Grizz found me outside smoking. Good timing, too. I was on my fourth bummed cigarette, and starting to wonder when a guard would show to jolly me along on my way.

  She looked happy, as animated as Grizz gets, which isn't much.

  "You get what you wanted?" I asked.

  "Got a bunch of stuff," she said. "Plant stuff."

  Grizz likes plants, I know. At the shelter, she tended the windowsills full of discarded cacti and spider plants. But I hadn't known she was thinking about that for a career.

  "That memory's something, isn't it?" she said. "I downloaded a weather predictor that monitors the whole planet, some biology databases, some specialized ones, some basic gardening routines, and a lot of stuff on orchids."

  "Orchids?"

  "I've always liked orchids. I've still got plenty of room, too. What about you?"

  "Mine's not so good," I lied. "It didn't hold much at all."

  Her gaze flickered up to mine, touched with worry. Her eyes narrowed.

  "What are you on?" she asked. "Your pupils are big as my fist."

  "Dunno the name."

  "Where'd you score it?"

  "Lorelei swung by, turned me on."

  Silence settled between us like a curtain as Grizz's expression flattened.

  "It's not like that," I finally said, unable to bear the lack of talk.

  "Not like what?"

  "She just came through and glimpsed me."

  "She knew you would be here because we mentioned it at dinner. She still wants you back."

  "Grizz, I haven't been with her for two years. Give it a rest."

  "I will. But she won't." She pulled away and made for the exit, her lips pressed together and grim. I followed at a distance all forty blocks to Ajah's.

  In the morning, we showered together to avoid slamming Ajah's water bill too hard. Grizz kept her eyes turned away from mine, rubbing shampoo into her hair.

  I ran my fingertips along the spirals on her back. "This is different," I said. Under my fingertips, the wire had knobbed up and thickened, although it still gave easily with the shift of muscles in her back. The gray patches were gone, and a uniform sheen played across the surface.

  "Does it feel different?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "Not really."

  "Do you remember the brand name on the boxes? We could look it up on the Net later on."

  "Carpa-something. I don't know. It looked bleeding edge and you never know what's up with that."

  "Why do you think they threw it out?" I wanted to keep her talking to me.

  She turned to face me with a mute shrug, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to let the water run over her long black hair. Her delicate eyebrows were like pen strokes capping the swell of her eyes beneath the thin-veined lids.

  I tangled my fingers in her hair, helping free it so the water would
wash away all the shampoo. Muddy green eyes opened to regard me.

  "Going to sit out the exams?" she asked.

  Saying nothing, I shook my head. We both knew I didn't have a chance.

  The Exams were the freak show I expected. Rich people buy mods and make them unnoticeable, plant them in a gut or hollow out a leg. This level, people want to make sure you know what they got. Wal-Mart memory spikes blossomed like cartoon hair from one girl's scalp, colored sunshine yellow, but most had chosen bracelets, jelly purple and red, covering their forearms. One kid had scales, but they looked like a home job, and judging from the way he worried at them with his fingernails, they felt like it too.

  You take the Exams at sixteen and most of the time they tell you you're the dregs, just like everyone else, but sometimes your mods and someone's listing match up and you find yourself with a chance. The more mods you have, the more likely it is. So the kids with parents who can afford to hop them up with database links or bio-mods that let them do something specialized, they're the ones getting the jobs.

  Usually your family's there to wish you luck. Mine wasn't, of course. And Grizz never said anything about her home life. The only times I've asked, she shut me down quick. Which makes me think it was bad, real bad, because Grizz doesn't pull punches.

  You could tell who expected to make it and who was going through the motions. Grizz marched up to her test machine like she was going to kick its ass three times around the block. I slid into my seat and waited for instructions.

  You see vidplots this time of year circling around the Exams. Someone gets placed in the wrong job—wacky! Two people get switched by accident—hilarious! Someone cheats someone out of their job but ultimately gets served—heartwarming and reassuring!

  In the programs, though, all you see is a quick shot of the person at the Exams. They don't tell you that you'll sit there for three hours while they analyze and explore your wetware, and then another two for the memory and experience tap.