A soupy fog
curled around Go as he entered Shéhérazade’s, sighing in relief at the sound of the terrible, throbbing music. The place was as empty as he could remember. On the dance floor, a small group danced—mostly chunky men with the pale, scruffy faces of young, aspiring engineers and scientists. They seemed content, maybe even happy, their crisp white button-down shirts clinging to their doughy bodies, which mixed perspiration with cologne.
There was no reason for them not to be content. Their lives were simple; their needs were being met. They would never know about the things dragged into the bay by the dangerous currents. And if they discovered those horrors, they would shrug.
No one cared about the dark workings of society but the vermin who ran through the shadowy mazes.
Go settled into a booth and ordered a drink—something strong, something to wash away the sights and sounds that wouldn’t leave on their own, the foul taste of seawater that had splashed into his mouth as he dumped waste for the fish to get at.
It wasn’t until the third glass that he began to relax. The liquor was a welcome warmth in his gut, and it would take the edge off before long.
A husky young woman and beanpole boy sneaked out, clinging to each other like magnets. They rushed to the exit, slowing only long enough to kiss sloppily.
Noelle had wanted something like that: physical and sloppy and simple.
Calling her up would probably result in an earful and an abrupt disconnect. A part of him realized that would actually be better than the alternative. He wasn’t ready for anything new, not even as a distraction.
The pain wasn’t going to fade anytime soon.
He ordered another drink and leaned back just as Jason entered. In the flashing dance lights, the genie’s scalp glistened where he’d banged against the cave wall. He scanned the room, then spotted Go and strode to his booth. “Scoot in.”
Go squeezed deeper into the booth, letting the other man take the outer part of the seat. “Clean bill of health?”
“Clean enough. They wanted to run some other tests, but I said no.”
“Worried they’d get too close?”
Jason smirked. “Were you looking for someone?”
“Not really, mate.”
“I wasn’t hitting on you, Go.”
“No drama. Wasn’t what I meant, though.”
“You smell like you’ve been hitting whatever’s in that glass pretty hard.”
“Not hard enough.”
The tabletop display flashed the menu, then powered down. Jason hadn’t even looked at it when he’d ordered. “I heard something bad might have happened to some prominent citizens up in Bosque de Jardim.”
“Yeah?”
“Blood stains, a couple other signs of violence, but no bodies.”
“That’s a tragedy. Upstanding citizens. Terrible, yeah?”
Jason’s drink arrived, and he sipped at it. “You ever feel stupid for missing the threads?”
“Threads? The connections?”
“Looking back at it, we should’ve seen some of the problems with Harry Cho.”
“You can say that because you’re seeing the whole thing now.”
“True. I guess I want to believe we were too close to see all the clues.”
“Like looking for something specific instead of letting things reveal themselves? Yeah. Constables like to form theories early on. Problem is, you get too stuck on those theories and don’t like to budge.”
“In a way, your early hunch was right: It was Harry.”
“A copy, I guess. Reckon I could’ve done better if I’d seen the big picture first, though.”
“Sure.” The genie took another sip and scanned the bar. His eyes locked on a kid at the end—long and lanky, with a bright purple mohawk and an almost timid manner about him.
Go nodded at Purple Mohawk. “Kindred spirit?”
“Could be. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Without meaning to, Go chuckled. “Everyone should go home happy, yeah?”
“I’m lonely, Go.”
“Yeah.” They all were.
“You get all your bills paid?”
“Mum’s good for a while. I’ve done what I can for Aspen.”
“So, what are you hoping reveals itself to you now that the garbage is cleaned up?”
“It’ll never be cleaned up, mate. All we can do is get rid of the eyesores.”
“Okay. It doesn’t change the question: What next?”
“Don’t know, but I can feel that something’s out there, yeah?”
Jason smiled around his drink as he finished it off. “I never pictured you as an optimist.”
“I’m not. Maybe I should be. They seem happier in life.”
“Happier but delusional.”
“Sometimes, seems that’d be a better way to deal with things.” Go held his empty glass up. “Not much different, numbing yourself up, now is it?”
The genie took Go’s glass from him and set it down. “Get some rest, okay?”
“Yeah. That’ll do the trick.”
“If you find this next thing, keep me in mind. I’ve got bills to pay, too.”
“You’re a good…driver.”
“Our little secret.” Jason pushed out from the booth, got his balance, and made his way to the bar a little unevenly. He leaned in close to Purple Mohawk, and the two chatted for a moment, then they left, laughing and leaning in close to each other.
Go curled over the shot glass. The amber fluid that clung to the bottom was like a missed opportunity, like the money lost to the copy of Harry Cho, like the money lost by refusing to just get along and play the game, taking work from Robbie and Berti and Donnell.
It was bad decisions—the one consistency Go could manage in life.
But those decisions always felt right when he made them. Wasn’t that what mattered?
He sat up and twisted around at the sense there was someone watching him.
A woman smiled at him from the side of the booth. In her thirties, he guessed, with bronze skin and black hair, slender and cute. Something about her brown eyes was captivating, a mix of confidence and vulnerability. She wasn’t the sort he would have missed normally, but he had somehow.
She held a long, slender hand out. “Hi. My name’s Benji. You must be Go.”
“Did we meet before?”
“Not directly.”
“Online, yeah? Maybe I’ve seen some of your work before?”
“Maybe. I think you’ve called me a guardian angel?”
He shook her hand and pointed to the seat beside him. “Care for a drink?”
“Not right now, thanks. I couldn’t help overhearing you and your friend talking. Are you going somewhere?”
“Seems to me you know that already.”
The corners of her lips ticked up, and she set a hand on his. It wasn’t confident or intrusive but tentative. “The Grid can only reveal so much about a person.”
Her smile was pleasant but it hurt too much to let feelings—even simple arousal—affect him at the moment. He pulled his hand free. “Sorry, love, but I’m a bit of a mess at the moment.”
“Rosario. I’m sorry.” She bowed her head. “It’s okay. I’ve got all the time in the world, if you change your mind.”
“Hard to believe someone like you’s even alone.”
“It’s been a while since I went looking.”
“But you’re looking now?”
“I need some people I can trust—people who know what they’re doing.”
“I know someone. A driver.”
“Your friend?” She nodded toward the door.
“Yeah.”
“I could use someone like him, too. He’s…special.”
“He is. Might want to check with him in the morning. He looked busy.”
“I’ve got a nice cabin on the Taj Mahal
, if you’re tired of this planet. Plenty of room for two, and there’s only a skeleton crew aboard right now.”
“I think I’m ready to leave, yeah.”
She stood, maybe a little too quickly. “I could help you make the night pass quickly. It…doesn’t have to be anything special.”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
Outside, the fog was still thick, clinging closely to them. A crawler crept through the mist, stopping a few meters away and opening its doors. Go waved her into the driver’s seat and leaned in close as she buckled in, catching a faint pine musk coming off of her. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, Benji…”
She looked up, dark eyes wide. “Yes?”
“I’m usually right about this sort of thing.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
“And what is it you think you’re right about?”
“This feels like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
He closed her door and strolled to the other side, barely noticing the dull pain in his ankle. It was definitely a night for rest.
And one day soon, he could say goodbye to those he’d lost.