CHAPTER 13

On the paved square beneath Residential Tower Three, four tall lamps held the evening at bay. Several Codists occupied the square’s benches, watching the sky as it darkened.

Mineko strode through the tower’s sliding glass doors. The lobby was circular, pristine, and lemon-scented, and sedate music was piped in from a speaker overhead. An elderly man in a red engineering uniform sat on a couch, while a child knelt in the middle of the tiled floor playing with blocks. She was four, maybe.

Mineko took a careful detour around the girl’s construction work and pressed the elevator call button. The doors opened immediately, and she entered a spacious elevator that smelled, once again, like lemon. A pleasant odor, yes, but this seemed excessive.

She poked the button for the fourteenth level. The elevator sealed itself before beginning its quiet ascent. It arrived at its destination with a delighted chime.

Mineko followed a corridor to a plain blue door and prodded the buzzer. After a brief delay, Valerie opened the door and gave Mineko a startled look. Had she forgotten their arrangement?

“Mineko, hello!” she said. “Right on time.”

No, that was just her regular look—Mineko had nearly forgotten. “Hello, Valerie. I hope you’re well.”

“Oh, yes. Very well. I hope the same is true for you.”

“It is. Thank you.”

Valerie smiled. She had unbuttoned the collar of her science uniform, the only off-duty concession Codists were allowed, and she seemed less apprehensive than she’d been at dinner.

“I’m glad you didn’t get lost,” she said. “I mean, not that you would! But I’m glad you didn’t, all the same.”

“This is for you.” Mineko held out a box of chocolates.

“Oh, for me?” Valerie peered at the box. “Gracious. This is quite a gift.”

It was indeed, a brand of dark liqueur chocolates made unavailable on the regular Codist market for no other reason than to enhance their decadence and thus their appeal to the elite. Mineko had been given the box on her last birthday but never gotten around to opening it.

“I’m grateful you’ve let me visit on such short notice,” she said.

“No, no, it’s…” Valerie continued to marvel at the chocolates. “I’ve never been given chocolates. Or anything.” A flighty laugh escaped her, almost as if by accident. “I’m so very touched. Please, come inside.”

Valerie ushered Mineko into a modest living area. A small couch faced a television, and a little dining table was accompanied by two chairs. The room connected with a bathroom, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a balcony, each of which Valerie identified while pointing to the appropriate exit.

“It seems like a nice apartment,” said Mineko, after Valerie had ceased pointlessly naming the rooms.

“It’s not so bad.” Valerie fumbled with the air conditioner. “I’m sorry, I’ve set this far too high.”

“I thought the temperature was fine.”

Valerie flashed a frantic smile. “I hope you’ll like dinner. I’ve never dined with company at home. The meal, I’m afraid it’s not fancy. Actually, I microwaved it inside a box.” She placed the chocolates on the table and admired them. “I’m sure you’re used to much nicer things.”

“Please don’t be worried. I’m not fussy.”

Judging from the surrounding shelves, it seemed Valerie collected statuettes. Though essential items like food, clothing and medicine were dispensed without cost, Codist workers still received a salary scaled to their position and qualifications, and overpriced objects like these little figurines were produced purely as a way to recover that money. Lachlan had once commented over dinner on the absurdity of it, while noting that it was one of those psychological touches that made Codism work.

Each statuette depicted a man or woman bearing some prop appropriate to their station. A tiny man in an orange uniform had a shovel over his shoulder; a woman in a gray uniform carried a box of tools; and there was a student, dark blue, with a reader in her hands. Mineko picked up the little student and inspected her from various angles.

“I suppose you think I’m silly,” said Valerie. “Spending my money on those things.”

“Not at all.” Mineko replaced the figurine, which tapped against the shelf with a hollow sound suggestive of its cheapness. “It’s not as though there’s anything more interesting to spend money on.”

“Well, there are books. I buy a lot of books.”

Mineko looked her in the eye. Reassuringly, Valerie was her height. Codists were taller on average than Foundation’s general population, and so despite being five four, Mineko was always looking up at people.

“They’re not real books,” she said. “They’re propaganda.”

Valerie blushed. “Um. How blunt.”

“It’s not a controversial opinion. We’re not allowed access to non-Codist literature, which means by definition that what we do read is propaganda.” A statement unlikely to get Mineko in any trouble, given that any idiot could see it. It would be different, of course, to take the sentiment further and suggest there might be some virtue in having access to the vast repository of banned books. Now that was the kind of reasoning that got a person wiped.

“If you say so.” Valerie placed a hand on her hip, frowned, and dropped it again, clearly uncertain what to do with her hands. “Shall we talk before dinner? Or are you hungry?”

“Let’s talk as we eat.” In the Tamura household, discussion over dinner was a sacred tradition. “What are you microwaving?”

“It’s, um…it’s in a sauce.” Valerie darted into the kitchen, from which soon came the sound of frantic rustling and the beeping of a microwave.

While waiting for Valerie to return, Mineko stood before the door to the balcony and contemplated the shadowed enclave below. Valerie held only a modest position in the Codist hierarchy, having authority over a research team and nothing more, and everything about this enclave suggested its other inhabitants were similarly unremarkable. The parks were small, the towers stacked high. Certainly no mansions. Of course, even the lowest Codists—maintenance workers, drivers, cleaners—lived in absurd comfort compared to the people beyond the walls.

“Do you like the view?” Valerie had returned with a plastic tray and a worried expression. “I’m nearly on the top floor. Um, this is yours.” She placed the tray on the table, set a fork beside it, and stepped back. “Oh dear. It looks very sad.”

The meal was impossible to identify. Several off-gray lumps lurked in a bubbling sauce of a similar color. Its savory aroma invaded Mineko’s nostrils and refused to leave. “How interesting.”

Valerie bit her lower lip. “It looks just awful, Mineko. I’m so sorry.”

“It looks delicious.” Mineko sat at the table. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Perhaps I should adjust the lighting.” Valerie tinkered with the room’s lighting controls. The overhead bulb dimmed and took on a subtle flicker, illuminating the table in soft, shifting tones. Dancing shadows deepened around the room. “Is that nicer?”

It made it harder to see the dinner, so the answer could only be yes. “It was fine before, but yes, this is nice.”

“Oh, good. I realize I’m terrible at this, but I’m trying very hard. I have some wine. I’ll bring that out too. I know you’re not allowed, but you drank it at dinner before, so I thought…”

“I’m different, yes. My father isn’t likely to surrender me for Reintegration just because I’ve tasted a little alcohol.”

The microwave pinged, and Valerie rushed back into the kitchen. Mineko gave the meal a cautious poke with her fork. It didn’t poke back—a good sign.

As she contemplated the food’s bubbling surface, Valerie made two return trips from the kitchen, first with a bottle of wine and two glasses, next with an identical tray of her own.

“The box doesn’t even say what it is,” she said as she settled into place. “It just says Soy Protein in a Sauce. That’s all it says. A Sauce.”

“To be fair, that’s the closest I could come to describing it.”

“Yes, it’s quite indescribable.” Valerie stabbed one of the lumps, put it in her mouth and chewed. “It tastes fine, though. Or so I think.”

It tasted like squishy nothingness submerged in sodium, but that was no problem. Mineko disposed of several lumps and took a sip of wine. Valerie ate at her own pecking, erratic pace, often pausing to give Mineko an apprehensive glance. There was something alluring about her, viewed through the soft radiance, and the shape of her lips—sad but sweet—was reminiscent of Callie’s. Or maybe that was the wine at work.

“I suppose you’d like to talk about the exam,” Valerie said. “I shouldn’t waste your time.”

“There’s no hurry. I’m curious to know more about you.”

“Me?” Valerie dabbed quickly at her lips with a napkin. “Oh, but there’s nothing to say.”

“You told me you didn’t have any close family or friends. Why is that?”

Valerie stared at her plate. “You ask such direct questions.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend.”

“No, I’m not… I mean, you have such a lovely way of speaking, and you seem so genuine. I could hardly take offense.” Valerie scowled as one of the lumps refused to stay on her fork. “I don’t see my parents, and I don’t have any siblings. As for friends, well… It’s difficult for me. I don’t relax around people very easily.” She gave Mineko a serious look. “You see, I’m not good at being sociable. You may not have noticed, but I get nervous.”

To avoid revealing her amusement, Mineko slowly chewed on another piece of soy protein.

“Yes, it’s difficult,” said Valerie, peering at her meal. “My work keeps me busy, and I don’t socialize with my co-workers because it seems far too complicated. Fortunately, it hardly troubles me at all.”

The sadness in her voice gave emphasis to the lie. “I expect I’ll be like you,” said Mineko, “when I’m your age. I don’t have any friends now, not a single one.”

“Surely not. You’re such wonderfully engaging company.”

From anyone else, that would have been sarcasm. From Valerie, it was enchantingly sincere. “I’m actually very shy.”

“But you must at least have young men interested in you. I mean, you’re such a beautiful…um, I mean…” Valerie cleared her throat. “Well, you’re very pretty, is what I meant to say. When I was your age, I was very plain, so nobody was interested at all.” She stared into her wine glass. “I say was, but of course, it’s even more true now that I’m an old woman.”

A strange, exciting atmosphere had settled over the table. With it was an impulse to flatter Valerie, to help her see her own attractiveness. “Forty-three isn’t old.”

“Well, I feel it talking to you. After all, I’m old enough to be your—” Valerie blinked, and a deep wrinkle joined the faint lines on her forehead. “How did you know my age?”

Whoops. Having let herself become immersed in the conversation, Mineko had forgotten there were some things she wasn’t supposed to know. “I asked my father how old you were.”

“Oh, did you? Whatever for?”

“I suppose I’m like him in some ways. I always want to learn all there is to know about everything.” Perhaps more flattery would help smooth over the mistake. “I was very surprised when he told me your age. I thought you were at least ten years younger than that.”

Valerie blushed, and a bewildered smile dissolved her worried expression. “Listen to you. What a thing to say.”

She resumed eating, still wearing the silly grin, and Mineko’s tension eased. To keep things that way, she proceeded to drink half a glass of wine.

“So, your exams are troubling you.” Valerie took a tentative sip from her own glass. “Do you enjoy your classes?”

“No.” A pleasant fuzz had settled in Mineko’s head. “Would you enjoy listening to hypocrites talk about how wonderful Reintegration is?”

Another crease indented Valerie’s brow. “You must realize the frank way you talk about these things is…well, it’s dangerous.”

Dangerous, yes. But in this strangely lit moment with her nervous companion, to test the limits of speech and thought no longer seemed so fearful. What if it really could end somewhere, the tyranny and injustice of the Codist elite? What if it could end with her?

“It’s only dangerous if the wrong people hear it,” said Mineko. “I don’t think you’re the wrong people.” She pushed her glass out of temptation’s reach. “What do you think of Reintegration?”

“It’s…a humane form of punishment. The alternatives would be worse.”

“What does it say about us as a society that we need such a solution?”

Valerie seemed to draw inward, her wine glass pressed to her lips and her eyes desperate. “You must know I can’t answer that.”

Once again, fear had created a chasm between them. Perhaps Mineko could try the same approach Kade had used to lead her across it—speaking firmly and pressing the point, but always with patience. “My father said you worked in Reintegration.”

“I did.” Valerie slumped against her palm, her bangs pushed askew by her fingers. “It’s like you said before. People come out oblivious of the last five years, the last decade, sometimes even a lifetime. They don’t remember what they said to you going in or even why they’re there.” Her eyes glistened. “I didn’t have the stomach for it.”

“How is work going on Project Sky?” Mineko had asked the question gently, but Valerie still twitched as if startled. “If you don’t mind.”

“We’re trying to understand the research notes that were left. I don’t want to experiment until we have Alexis Vale. It’s not worth killing for.”

“I feel very sorry for this woman.”

“I’m certain you do. You’re a very gentle person. But you heard what they said. She’s drug dealer, and…um, and a sexual pervert.”

A flash of indignation cut through Mineko’s alcohol-relaxed thoughts. Lexi deserved better than that. “A sexual pervert?”

“They said she was…you know.” Valerie couldn’t have appeared more wretched. “A homosexual.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. It’s certainly no justification for using a human being as a scientific experiment.” Mineko was going too far now—not even the wine could conceal that—but she was angry. Angry at Lachlan for drawing her into his machinations, angry at Valerie for being so meek and, most of all, angry at herself for being complicit in all this cruelty and cowardice. “In any case, the Code doesn’t apply to the inhabitants of the districts, so it’s ridiculous to expect them to conform to our standards.”

“I don’t disagree. It’s natural for people to be attracted to…to all kinds of other people. Um.” Valerie looked away. “I truly don’t understand how these prejudices have taken hold in our society. There’re so many rational aspects to the Code, but there are other things which are just senseless. And if someone did feel…if they did have an inclination in some way…well, they can’t do anything about it, no matter how many years they spend wishing it would change, that they could be…be normal. They can’t even be Reintegrated.”

Mineko’s anger winked out. Now all she felt was a surge of compassion, and a deep, instinctive desire to hug Valerie close. “Have you ever felt such an inclination?”

After several seconds of silence, Valerie gave one of her characteristically agitated laughs. “You do ask such novel questions.” She opened the box of chocolates. “Let’s try these, and then we’ll talk about your exam.”

Inclination. Such a passionless word for the intoxicating thing Mineko had wrestled with for years. She’d made eye contact with girls in lecture theaters only to be left with her face warm and her chest tight. She’d lingered to admire a girl on the campus lawn or had looked back, body aching, to watch one walk away. But until she’d seen the leonine way Lexi carried herself through the world, so proud of her appetites, Mineko had never realized those feelings didn’t need to be shameful.

Valerie reached for a chocolate. Mineko took one as well, and as she did she deliberately brushed Valerie’s fingers with her own.

Valerie blushed and dropped the chocolate in her haste to withdraw. Mineko gazed into her eyes until the nervous scientist finally looked away, exhaled and poured another glass of wine with a shaking hand.

It all made sense now. The flustered fumbling, the uncertain speech, the nervous blinking—traits of an anxious person, yes, but this went further.

Valerie Wren was attracted to her.

“Let’s go to the balcony,” Mineko said. “I want to see the view.”

* * *

As she stood with her hands on the railing, the night air cleared Mineko’s head and made her earlier verdict seem less sure. In fact, nothing seemed so certain out here. Two days ago, she’d been a brave woman, defying her own society to help Lexi and the others. That was who she always wanted to be. But such bravado was frightening and so hard to sustain…

Below her, lamps and lit windows blazed in a black basin from which issued the rattling, creaking sounds of nocturnal insects. Above, the stars were clear.

“Mineko,” said Valerie. “The things you’ve said tonight would get you in terrible trouble. Please be more careful.”

“I trust you, though.”

“You shouldn’t. And I shouldn’t trust you, but for some reason I do. It’s silly, really. I ought to be terrified of you.” There was just enough light cast from the living room to see Valerie’s shy smile. “But you speak with so much sincerity and courage.”

“I’m not as brave as I wish I was.”

“I’m glad you aren’t. You’d only get yourself hurt. Please promise me you’ll hide these thoughts of yours.”

The stars above were strewn in what seemed to be senseless disarray. Callie had claimed to know their patterns, their hidden constellations, and that meant there was order amid the confusion.

But Mineko needed someone to help her see it. And she was alone.

“I’m allowed to think,” she said. “We’re not forbidden our thoughts.”

“Once we complete Project Sky, things will be otherwise. We have to train ourselves to think appropriately. It’s the only way.”

“Do you think life is better over the wall?”

“I imagine it’s far worse, but then I’m much older than you. When you’re young, it’s easy to think there must be some solution, some way out. This place takes many things from you, and hope is one of them. I’ve given up dreaming, Mineko.”

Mineko gripped the railing, pressing her palms into the cold steel. “I can’t endure this loneliness. I couldn’t do it for another twenty years. I don’t think I can even do it for one more day. I have so much to say, but I’ll never have anyone to say it to. I’ll never laugh. I’ll never be loved.”

A hoarse frog call joined the whine of the insects. A deeper sound hummed behind it, a low rumble in the distance. A convoy of trucks, maybe, passing out west. Valerie remained silent.

“My exams don’t matter,” said Mineko. “I don’t think they intend to let me become a neuroethicist in any case. They’re waiting for me to change my mind. When I don’t, they’ll force me. Code Intel is my future.”

“Then why come to see me? If the exams don’t matter, why are you here?”

“Would you rather I hadn’t?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Certainly if I’d known tonight would be so…well, so very odd, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

Out in the sobering night air, it was harder to believe in the erotic connection Mineko had sensed before. Yet her desire for intimacy had only been intensified by the thought of growing old, and now the idea of doing something audacious took hold of her, leaving her both queasy and excited. In Codist society, it was proper to marry young and produce a family. Anything else was unseemly. For a young woman to throw herself at a middle-aged woman—that would be a true rebellion. The kind of rebellion even Lexi might agree with.

“I asked whether you’d had forbidden inclinations,” said Mineko. How calm she sounded, as if these weren’t the most terrifying words she’d ever spoken. “I asked because I’ve had them myself.”

Valerie’s eyes widened, two ghostly white circles in the half-light. “You mustn’t ever admit that.”

“You’ve had them too. You’re having them right now.”

“Please.” Valerie’s whispered plea was barely audible. “You need to stop. If you don’t, I won’t be able to resist, and I have to…”

Mineko took Valerie’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. Valerie’s fingers were both hot and cool on her skin, and Mineko gripped them tighter. “Please.”

Valerie closed her eyes. “I can’t.”

“I have to know. You may be the only person who can help me find out.”

Trembling, Valerie ran her fingertips across Mineko’s lips. The ache in Mineko’s chest crept to lower parts of her body. “I don’t understand how this can be happening. You’re too beautiful for me…”

How was she going to do this? Mineko had never given much thought to kissing—not until Lexi had demonstrated its attractions. Well, she could imitate what she’d seen and hope for the best.

She cupped Valerie’s face and leaned in close. Valerie’s lashes fluttered, and her lips parted as Mineko pressed their mouths together. At first, it seemed she’d made a mistake—were they supposed to stand here, just squashing each other’s lips?—but then Valerie tilted her head, her mouth opened wider and something warm brushed against Mineko’s tongue. Everything inside her jolted at once.

As they kissed, Valerie stroked the side of Mineko’s neck, and Mineko placed a hand upon Valerie’s breast. Even under the thick material of a science uniform, nothing had ever been as thrilling as the soft weight in her palm. A surge of triumph joined the emotions running riot through her. Lachlan had thought to manipulate her, but now here she was, defying him and her parents in the most potent way she could. Neither her body nor her mind belonged to the Code tonight. They were hers to surrender to this woman, who so deserved the comfort they could bring.

“Mineko.” Valerie gasped the name as she broke from the kiss. Her eyes were dazed, her blush complete. “We’ll be caught. They’ll say I seduced you, even though it was you who…”

“Do you not want this?”

“I want it so badly that I’m letting myself make a terrible mistake.” Valerie took a deep breath before pushing Mineko away. “I can’t let you make that mistake as well. You should go home.”

“But…” But what would she do with this tumult inside her? “I’m telling you, nobody will ever know.”

“That was my first kiss. I imagine yours as well. And now it’s all I can do to keep from crying, because I’m even more conscious of what I’ll never have.” Valerie looked to the sky, which had darkened further. “I’m not as bold as you. Maybe if I were young again.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Mineko touched Valerie’s shoulder. “At least let me comfort you.”

“You’re too special to risk yourself for somebody like me. You’ll go on to do wonderful things. I’m certain of it. Whereas history will remember me for my role in this terrible project, because I’m too afraid to act otherwise.”

The pleasant feelings were subsiding, leaving only the nausea. “I’d still like to see you again. We should be friends.”

“Yes. But we must meet in public next time. This was…” Valerie glanced into the softly-lit room. “A bad idea. I suppose part of me was fantasizing it. I just never expected it might actually transpire.” She laughed. Mineko had never heard another sound quite so sad. “I suppose I should be flattered.”

“Have you been attracted to many women before?”

“Yes, though I find men attractive too. But I can’t just marry one and forget about it. I know that if someone is around me often enough, they’ll figure me out. They’ll see it in my eyes.”

Mineko’s stomach was settling now, and a weary kind of composure reasserted itself. “After Project Sky, they may quite literally do so.”

“Yes.” Valerie gazed at the stars. “I truly hope we never catch her.”