Ghetto

by M L Sparrow

  “Orange and vodka,” he informs me.

  I quirk an eyebrow. “You find this party so horrendous that you have to have two drinks in order to cope?”

  “It is pretty bad,” he admits, “I hate these kind of functions, but my son forced me to come, said it was rude to refuse the invitation, since we’ve known Emilie a long time.”

  “For some reason I can’t imagine anyone ever forcing you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “Well, there is that. I guess I’m going soft in my old age.”

  Snorting, I shake my head, “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  “Thank you, my dear, it’s nice to know someone still has faith in this old codger. Makes me glad I brought you a drink.” Surprised, I accept the glass he offers me, glancing down at it and then back up at him. He winks, “You’re almost eighteen, right?”

  “Just a few months to go,” I assure him. Obviously, I did know the rules about taking drinks from strangers, but Mr Mason seems harmless, so I take a sip; the orange is smooth and zesty, infused with the potent flavour of vodka. Somehow I manage to school my expression not to show disgust; it’s horrible, worse than what I drank in the Ghetto. I honestly don’t understand why people like this stuff.

  We talk for a while, I tell him about my interest in technology, he tells me about his love for proper, old-fashioned books and I slowly grow accustom to the bitter taste of vodka. Time flies now that I’ve actually got someone of interest to talk to and all too soon I realize that time may have gotten away from me.

  “Do you have the time on you?” I ask Mr Mason, gesturing to the huge gold watch on his wrist.

  Touching a finger to the watches face to produce a hologram, he reads, “Eight Thirty.”

  “Oh my God, I’m late!” Squeezing his arm as I pass, I toss over my shoulder, “I’m really sorry but I’ve got to go.” He calls after me, asking if I’m okay, but I don’t have time to reply. Back in the main room, I manage to resist the urge to run, but still I attract some curious glances as I speed walk towards the elevator. I had planned to tell my dad that I had a pounding headache before scarpering, but I don’t have time to do that now, plus he’s currently preoccupied talking to a bunch of other politicians as Emilie hangs off his arm, flirting outrageously and flipping her hair at every opportunity. Heading down in the elevator, I don’t bother collecting my shawl once I reach the lobby, it’s warm enough that I don’t need one. Outside there is a line of cars, reserved especially for the party guests and I slide into one, punch in my address and drum my fingers impatiently against the window as we drive.

  At home in my bedroom, I scramble to remove my finery and don the clothes I had put out, jamming my feet into my trainers. I do the laces up whilst I go down in the elevator, with Ludo standing stiffly at my side, glowing eyes boring a hole in the metal doors.

  “Ludo, follow me,” I command once we’ve reached the bottom, stepping out and striding through the lobby and out onto the street. I hadn’t wanted to take a car to the store, because to do so I would have to scan my Brand, which would make me easily traceable, however, there’s no other option now if I want to get there on time.

  Using the data-pad set into a pillar at the side of the road to summon a car, I chew anxiously on my thumbnail as we wait. Once it arrives, I jump inside and bring up a map on the little screen that pops up, selecting my destination as Ludo climbs in awkwardly beside me, clonking his head soundly on the top of the door. His spatial awareness is a little off, I’d need to fix that.

  Chapter 19

  I direct the car to pull over several streets away from the store where we’re supposed to meet, just to be safe, and we walk the rest of the way. Each of Ludo’s footsteps make a hollow thudding sound against the pavement, but instead of being comforted by it, I find myself becoming twitchy and paranoid, thinking his presents might draw attention, despite the fact that personal robots are a common enough sight and, being a week night, there are very few people around to see us anyway. It doesn’t take long to reach the alley that leads to the back of the store which is the rebels’ first collection point. As I approach, I catch sight of figures moving through the semi-darkness, going back and forth to a van parked at the other end of the alley, it was only an outline due to the fact that the headlights were off. Someone spots Ludo and I coming and suddenly everyone freezes in a moment of indecision.

  “Sunny, that you?” a voice calls and before I can reply someone is jogging towards me. With a wide, beaming smile, Kit hauls me into a hug and swings me around.

  Laughing, I grab hold of his arms. “You best put me down before Ludo decides you’re exhibiting threatening behaviour.

  “Yeah,” someone chips in, “it has a taser dude, ask Ely.” Sniggering ensues.

  Ignoring the others, Kit sets me back down and steps away, admitting, “I recognised metal-man before I saw you.”

  “It’s good to see you, Kit,” I smile.

  “You, too,” he agrees, “but I’m bettin’ I’m not really who you came to see, am I?” His mischievous grin makes me shake my head.

  “You can read me like a book, so where is he?”

  Turning around, Kit scans the small group of people hurrying back and forth between the dumpster and the van, however, I’ve already spotted the tall figure to the side of us before Kit points him out. Standing a little way off, Sin has his arms crossed over his chest, watching us as he waits.

  “Go ahead,” Kit teases, “you know you wanna.” I don’t need any more prompting than that. Striding forward, I close the space between us, but once we’re within touching distance I hesitate because his arms remain crossed like a shield. However, just as I pause, he flashes me a rare, crooked smile and his arms reach for me, surrounding me and pulling me into his body. Returning the embrace, I clutch at the back of his shirt, burying my face against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

  After a minute or two, he squeezes me tight and pulls away to study me, his steel blue eyes taking in everything. Running a finger down the side of my face, he quirks his head to one side, saying softly, “You’re wearin’ make-up.”

  “Yeah,” I grimace, “I didn’t have time to take it off.”

  “It looks good.”

  “Thanks.” Blushing, I glance down at the ground, before looking up at him through my lashes. “So, do I get a kiss or not?”

  “You’ll get lipstick all over me.”

  I shake my head, “It’s special stuff, it doesn’t smear.”

  “I’ve gotta test that.” And he does. I love Sins’ kisses, the way his lips feel against mine, a little bit desperate, a little bit rough. The way his hands find their way into my hair, pulling slightly. He tastes nice too, though I can’t determine any particular flavour. As it always does, the kiss ends far too soon for my liking and I sigh when his lips leave mine, his heavy breath warm against my face as he rests his forehead against mine.

  “Did the lipstick pass inspection?” I ask after taking a minute to catch my breath.

  Untangling one hand from my curls, he cups my cheek, sweeping his thumb over my damp lower lip as he answers, “You still look perfect.”

  Feeling warm inside, I smile up at him, “Aren’t you charming when you want to be?”

  “I try.”

  “Yo!” someone calls suddenly, interrupting our moment and making me jump, “If you two are done flirtin’, everythin’ is loaded up and ready to go, no thanks to you guys.”

  Frowning, Sin glances over his shoulder and shakes his head, muttering, “No respect.” Turning back to face me, he adds, “Your fault.”

  “Excuse me!” I pull my head back in indignation, “How’s it my fault?”

  “Since you been around they think I’m a good guy.”

  Laughing, I reach up to brush the hair off his forehead, asking, “And that’s a bad thing, why?”

  “‘Cos they’re not scared of me anymore.”

  “My question still stands.”<
br />
  “You comin’ or you walkin’?” another male voice yells, causing Sin to widen his eyes and tense his jaw in a this-is-what-I’m-talking-about expression, which has me supressing a giggle.

  “We’re comin’,” he replies, taking my hand and leading me towards the van, where the others are already piling into the back. It’s only when I’m climbing into the van that I remember Ludo; since I hadn’t commanded him to desist following me he’s only a couple of steps behind and we wait while he climbs in.

  “Glad you made it,” Joel calls from upfront, raising a hand in greeting as Sin closes us all in.

  “Thanks for the invite,” I reply, before turning to Sin and saying, “I’ve been working on something which I hope will help our cause. I brought Ludo so that I could set it in action.”

  Shrugging, he leans a shoulder against the closed doors and eyes me curiously. “What is it?”

  “A video.”

  “Err… What?” Kit draws my attention and I glance over to see him perched atop a pile of boxes.

  “I’ve made a video using footage I took while in the Ghetto,” I explain, “and I’m planning to send it viral.”

  “How will that help us?” someone else queries.

  “Hopefully it’ll drum up sympathy and make people realize that you’re not all bad people. Once you have the support of the general public the government will have to listen to your plea. After all, they can’t put everyone in the Ghetto.”

  There’s silence for a second, before Joel pipes up from the front of the van, “That’s actually a brilliant idea.”

  Quirking an eyebrow, I say archly, “I do have them occasionally.”

  “You think it’ll help?” Sin questions.

  “Yes, I do,” I nod to emphasis my point, “most people aren’t cruel, just blind. All we need to do is open their eyes.”

  “Then let’s give it a shot.”

  Our discussion is cut short by our arrival at the next collection point, where more boxes are waiting to be loaded into the van. However, when we’re on our way once more, I attempt to use the screen set into Ludo’s torso to show Sin and the others my creation, only to find that I can’t access the files, which are on my Tab, because in my haste to repair him I had forgotten to do the simplest thing – sync him with my other devises.

  “Damn it,” I mutter, before explaining the situation. When everyone continues to look nonplussed, I say simply, “It’s on my other computer.”

  Someone groans, “I thought you were a techno geek?”

  Scowling at the guy, who I don’t recognise, I catch a glimpse over his shoulder and into the front of the van. What I see through the windshield gives me an idea. Grabbing Sin’s arm, I point out the tall, shiny silver structure rising imposingly above the rest of the city. “That’s where I live. If you come with me, I can show you.”

  “No way!” Kit steps in immediately and the other guys quickly add their two cents, causing an uproar.

  “Going there would be like asking to be caught,” Joel adds, once the others have quietened down. Sin, however, hadn’t said a word, so I ignore them, turn to look squarely at him and make my case.

  “My dad’s at a party and he won’t be home until the early morning, if he even bothers to come home before going into the office. All of the security is electronic, so all I have to do is claim you’re my guest and they won’t even scan you.”

  “What if someone forced you to say there were your guest?” Sin questions, looking genuinely concerned.

  “It monitors heartbeat and tone of voice. There are also safe-words and security cameras.” For reasons that confound me, it had been decided by the President before my dad that electronic precautions and robotic guards were safer than human ones. However, despite my love of technology, I had to disagree; though a flesh and blood human could be bribed or coerced, a machine, in the hands of the right person, could be reprogramed or used as a weapon, without even a hint of a conscience to hold them back. In my mind it had been a massive lapse of judgement and I couldn’t understand why my dad hadn’t changed it, but tonight it could work in my advantage.

  “It won’t take long to show you the films, a half-hour maybe, and then we can jump in a car and meet the others,” I conclude, staring up into his eyes.

  He doesn’t speak for a minute and I begin to worry that he’s going to agree with the others, that it’s too dangerous, but then he nods firmly. “Okay.”

  “What?” someone explodes, as another exclaims, “Are you stupid?”

  Sin holds up a hand and the silence is instant. “Drop us here, Joel,” he decrees, “we’ll catch up later.” Only Kit is brave, or foolish enough to continue arguing, but Sin just ignores him and, when the van comes smoothly to a stop, opens the doors and climbs out. Scrambling down after him, with Ludo in tow, unsettlingly aware of the eyes burning holes into my back, I wait as he closes the door with a click that’s sharp and final in the night silence, before taking his hand and twining our fingers. Neither of us speak a word as we walk down the practically deserted street, Ludo clunking along behind us.

  Only when we’re nearing our destination does he ask, “You sure this’ll work?”

  “Positive,” I squeeze his hand reassuringly, “those guards outside” – I motion with my head to the two uniformed men either side of the sliding doors, both standing far too still to be human – “are mostly for show. They’re only activated by threatening movements or key words, so just keep walking and you’ll be fine.”

  Hand in hand, we cross the street and I can feel his palm sweating, but we are admitted into the building without incident, only having to pause briefly so that I can scan my Brand.

  As we walk through the lobby, I murmur low, “There’s a security camera, so just keep your head down, hands in your pocket and cover your ears with your hair.” Glancing up at him wryly, just as we reach the elevator, I add, “But try to act normal at the same time.”

  “You’re learnin’,” he smirks, though the expression is strained. The elevator doors slide open and we step inside.

  Up in the apartment, Sin looks around with open awe, eyes wide, and I can’t help but smile, even as a voice in my head informed me that he didn’t belong here. With his ragged clothes and un-groomed appearance, it was obvious where he came from.

  “Follow me,” I say, taking his hand to lead him down the hall, before noticing that his boots are leaving muddy prints on the cream carpet. “Would you mind taking your shoes off?”

  “Sorry.” He winced, glancing back at the mess he’d made, before pulling off his shoes and placing them under the table beside the elevator, as I go over to the screen embedded in the wall and activate the Clean-Bot, which appears from its’ hiding place under the settee to hoover up the flakes of dried mud. Leaving the little machine to it, we head down the hall and into my bedroom. Immediately, his eyes go to the window and his bare feet take him over to it. I follow, watching the wonder on his face as he takes in the magnificent view of the city. Standing beside him, I link my arm through his and lean my head against his shoulder, staring out at the familiar vista with new eyes. It truly was beautiful with the lights glowing, the Sky-Train looping around the city and Hover-Cars flitting around like fireflies.

  After several minutes, Sin glances down at me and I slide my hand down his arm to take his hand and lead him over to my desk, motioning for him to sit in the chair. Leaning over to set up the laptop, I jump to feel the calloused tips of his fingers lightly touching the strip of pale skin that had been revealed when my shirt rose up. Glancing over my shoulder, I find him watching me closely with those breath-taking, steel blue eyes; their intensity makes me shiver and his lips twitch upwards. When I don’t protest the touch, only turn back to the laptop and start tapping away, his hand flattens completely on my lower back, before travelling downwards.

  Once I’ve brought the video up on screen, I straighten and his hand drops away so that I can perch myself on the arm of the chair. We watch it through an
d I can feel him concentrating beside me. When it’s finished, I clear my throat and wait nervously to hear his opinion.

  “It’s good,” he says after a moment, “do you really think it’ll work?”

  I shrug, “All we can do is try. And if it does work, I’ve already begun creating some follow ups. Also, I was thinking we could do some interviews, get the publics’ opinion once they know what’s actually going on in the Ghetto.”

  Slowly he nods, brow furrowed in thought as he toys with a stray strand of my hair, twisting the curl around one of his fingers. “I hope it works. It’s better than the plan we came up with, anyway.”

  “What did you come up with?” I ask out of curiosity. Tensing up, his jaw tightens. I recognise that expression and I know that I won’t be getting anything else out of him tonight.

  “I should go,” he states, dislodging me as he gets up.

  “No,” I argue, “you should stay. Just for a little while.” Already halfway to the door, he pauses, slowly turning back to face me. “We finally have some time to ourselves,” I say, striding over to him until we’re standing toe to toe, “let’s make the most of it.”

  “You’re dad could come back…”

  “Trust me, he’ll be drinking cocktails for hours.”

  “Sunny…”

  “Please. Ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking, I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” His voice is uncharacteristically hoarse as his eyes fix on my lips. I don’t hesitate, I just lean forward and kiss him. Up on my tiptoes, hands braced on his shoulders, our lips touch, warm and soft. His stubble scratches my face, hands clasping my waist as he draws me closer. “I missed this too,” he tells me between kisses, “holdin’ you. I got used to havin’ you in my bed at night. I can’t sleep on my own.”

  Smiling against his lips, I wrap my arms more securely around his neck, “At least you didn’t forget all about me.”

  “As if I could,” he growls, backing me towards the bed and tumbling me down onto it. Kissing my neck, he tangles one hand in my hair as he traces the neckline of my shirt with his lips, the other hand roving over my body. Sighing, I bite my lip, slipping my hands beneath his t.shirt to caress the muscles in his back and shoulders. They flex beneath my touch, his skin burning hot. A hand pulls up my own t.shirt, making me jump.