68

First we get you out of the building,” Wenthi said. “Then we’ve got a train to catch.”

“Train?”

“Everyone else is being shipped to the oil derricks, sentenced to hard labor.”

“And you care about that?” she asked. But they were fully connected, the same level of sync they had shared for over a season, even as they stood face to face. Emotion and thought and sensation were all one, like their two bodies were part of one person. “You do. You—” She shook her head. “Still an asshole, Wenthi, but at least your head isn’t still wedged in yours.”

“Thanks.”

“So how do I get out?” she asked. She held out her arms and spun around, pointing out the medical gown she was wearing. “I can’t exactly go out in this.”

“Where I come in,” Enzúri said, starting to take off his smartly styled suit. “You walk out wearing this.”

“What?” she asked as he handed her his coat. “That’s absurd. And what are you even doing here, you—”

“Llipe asshole?” he offered. “Setting it right.” He gave her his slacks. She sighed and stripped off the gown.

“What are you going to do? Stay here in the gown?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And in about a sweep, my aunt—the councilwoman—will get a call that I’ve been abducted and I’m down here. So I’ll be fine.”

She finished getting dressed, and while the suit wasn’t a perfect fit, she looked pretty decent. “I still look like a jifoz playing dress up.”

“Nothing we have time to do anything about,” Wenthi said. “Just keep your head down while we walk.”

Nália stopped and touched Enzúri’s face. “Thank you. And thank you for . . . for being on the right side of things.”

“There are more of us than you think,” Enzúri said. “Now go.”

Wenthi led her down the hall, back to the lift, and with the key, back to the main floor. He took her by the arm as they walked out, and he made a point to move with his head up, confidently.

He dropped the key back on the clerk’s desk, keeping Nália positioned so her back was to them. “Bosses keep changing their mind. Now I’ve got to take him home.”

“They do that, don’t they?” the clerk said. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Wenthi said, and took her out the bus doors onto the street.

“That easy?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he said. “We’re out of the building, but any swipe now, one of those guards will wake up, and he’ll sound an alert, and there will be an outcall for you.”

“And then?”

“Every patrol on a cycle will be looking for you. Come on.”

He went around a curve through a tight alley, up the steps to the indented niche between a paper shop and a clothing store, where Lathéi and Oshnå were waiting with the cycles.

“This is her?” Lathéi asked. She looked over Nália with approval. “I thought Enzúri looked a bit overdone in that outfit, but you? Rather spruce.”

“Thank you?” Nália responded. “Who are these llipe minces? And why are they dressed like—”

“I’m not llipe, I’m Hemish,” Oshnå said. “This is all very exciting.”

“You know who she is,” Wenthi said, nodding to Lathéi.

Nália looked back. “Oh, this is the famous sister. I should have guessed. You kept showing up in his dreams, you know.”

“Really?” Lathéi asked. “Not improperly, I hope.”

“Rarely,” Nália said.

Wenthi started taking off his stolen uniform. “Get out of those clothes,” he told her. “When the call comes, they’ll be looking for that outfit.”

“And wear what?” Nália asked.

“Oh, we’ve got that for you,” Oshnå said, handing over a pair of bundles. Nália realized what she had been given: her raw denim coat and pants. Her own, which still fit perfectly despite Wenthi having worn them for days and days. Wenthi had his own set, though his didn’t have the mileage of grease and wear like hers did.

“You got this back for me?” she asked.

“I knew how much those meant to you,” he said. “Just like that does.” He pointed to the ’goiz 960 in the niche.

“My baby,” she said, caressing the machine. She looked it over. Wenthi had been taking good care of it. “And the tank is full.”

Lathéi spoke up. “Well, I have this ridiculous petrol ration. I might as well use it for some good.”

Nália got on her cycle, which felt so good to have beneath her. Not that she knew where she could go. “So, what now? If we ride out of here as denimed up cycle cats, we’re definitely going to stand out.”

“Oh, no,” Lathéi said. “I’ve already taken care of that.”