I’M PANTING BY the time I get to the edge of the colony and enter from the direction I want him to see me coming from. I can feel the sweat on my forehead and top lip. I wipe it from my face, feeling a blast of coolness in my armpits as the early-morning breeze brushes the damp patches of my T-shirt. My sweat is particularly sharp smelling and I wonder if it’s because of the panic, both inside God’s city and right now.
I slow to a brisk pace, caught between wanting to catch my breath and needing to get there as fast as I can. What could he want at this time of the morning, for God’s sake?
I cut in to the boundary between the southern gate and Kay’s house, half jogging past the obscured windows and the people still sleeping inside. There’s no sound except the wildlife staking out territories and calling for a mate. The sounds are different here than on Earth, but the purpose seems the same. “This is my patch!” they scream. “I want sex! Come and shag me! I’ll give you strong babies!” It’s the same stuff humans say most of the time. We just dress those needs up in fancier linguistic clothes.
When my house comes into view, Sung-Soo is leaning against one of the windows, hands cupped either side of his face to shield out the light as he peers in. Even though there’s no way he can see inside, I’m still irritated. Why do people do that when there’s no answer at a door? Do they expect to see the resident in there, feet up, oblivious? Are they checking they’re not being snubbed, rather than whether the resident is at home?
Sung-Soo straightens his back as he steps away from the curve of the dome. My place was one of the first dome-shaped structures here; now about sixty percent of them have the same shape and basic design. None of the other houses—as far as I know, anyway—have the additional rooms and cubbies I’ve created beneath mine.
I hurry as he leans back in and smells one of the tiny plants growing from the soil covering most of its surface. As I watch, his head tilts and I know he’s seen the patch that’s dying.
“Sung-Soo!” I call and he turns, stepping away from my house quickly.
“I thought you would be in,” he says as he comes toward me.
“Just went for a jog.” The lie fits well with the sweat.
God’s city looms behind him and I can’t help but think of the things I’ve stashed away in their shallow grave. I force myself to focus on his eyes—on his grandmother’s eyes. I look away again.
“I was worried I’d got up too early. Can we start right away?”
“Start what?”
“My house. Mack said we’d build it today and that you’re the one who makes them.”
He looks like a child. His excitement and eagerness crash against me like waves, and like the beach I steal the energy from them. “Right now?”
“Do you have something else planned? Mack said you’d be free.”
“Did he say that last night?” When he nods, I click my tongue. “Hang on a sec.”
I call up the v-keyboard and dash off a note to Mack. With a petty thrill, I tag it as “urgent, top priority,” and send it. If I’m expected to build a house at dawn, you should bloody well be awake too.
“How about you give me a few minutes to get myself sorted out?” I suggest.
“Good, yes, I’d like to see what your place is like inside.”
“Why?” I asked that too quickly.
“Mack said you can make houses different inside. They can be whatever you want. I thought that, seeing as you make them, your house would be the best.”
A sharp, twisting cramp shoots through my gut. “It’s not.” I force a smile. “It’s like my grandma always used to say: the cobbler is the worst shod.”
His eyebrow rises and I realize he has no idea what a cobbler would be. Half of the people in the colony are probably just as clueless.
“The cobbler was the person who used to make shoes in the . . . a long time ago. The saying explains that the person who makes something for everyone else rarely has the time to make the good ones for themselves.”
“Oh! But that doesn’t matter. I’ve only seen Mack’s place and the Dome. Yours doesn’t have to be the best to be useful.”
For what seems to be the longest moment I just stand there, unable to think of a way to dissuade him. Everyone is so used to me, it’s been a long time since I’ve been put on the spot like this and I’m out of practice. I engineer things to avoid this kind of situation coming up in the first place.
A ping from Mack gives me the chance I need. I read the message and feel my shoulders drop with relief. “Mack’s waiting for you at his place. He’s making breakfast for us both. I’ll clean up and be right over. Then we’ll start, okay?”
He glances back at my house and shrugs. “Okay.”
I don’t move until he’s gone past me, and after I take a couple of steps I pause to make a show of stretching my calf and thigh muscles out. Sneaking a peek from the corner of my eye, I see him look behind himself, no doubt hopeful for a glimpse into the house as I enter it. When he sees I’m nowhere near it yet, he picks up the pace and is soon out of sight.
I close my eyes and tip my head back, feeling the backwash of the adrenaline leaving my body ragged. The last thing I want to do today is create. Keeping everything where it is, tucked away and hidden from sight, demands all the creativity in me.
I go toward the house and think of Kay, of her kissing my neck at the end of a party in the Dome, years ago. “Let’s go back to yours,” she whispered.
“No, your place is better.”
She pulled away from me. The position of her hand on my thigh shifted, just a tiny amount, enough to tell me she was changing her mind about where she wanted it to go next.
“I’ve never been inside your house, Ren, not once in over a year. I don’t want us to go back to mine.”
“It’s not tidy.”
“I don’t care.”
“And it’s not as comfortable as yours. Your bed is better.” I kissed her, trying to make her think of the original agenda again, trying to make her primal desires work to my advantage. “And it’s closer.”
“A whole two minutes closer.” She shifted along the moss seat, putting a distance between us so she could look at me properly. “Why won’t you let me in?”
“Another time. It’s a tip—I’m . . . I’m such a slob, really.”
“I’m not just talking about your house.”
Then I leaned back, the space between us stretching from the close intimacy of lovers to that of friends, and not happy ones at that. I could feel my walls coming up, almost a physical sensation of pulling back farther than my body had. A drawing inward.
“You never talk about before. You hardly talk about yourself at all.”
“I’m not that interesting.” I try to smile, but it’s like adding a sprig of parsley to a mud pie.
“I’ve told you everything about me,” she pressed. “I can tell from your body that you’ve had a baby. Why won’t you tell me about your child?”
I stood up before I realized I had. She’d caught the edge of an emotional scab and ripped the wound open again.
“I thought sharing time and love and my body would be enough,” I said, or something equally peevish. I can feel my lip curling in disgust at my younger self’s taste for melodrama.
I’m glad she forgave me. She left me alone for a while and I avoided her as much as I could, embarrassed by my inability to maintain the only relationship I’d had in so many years that had satisfied my body as much as my heart. I wasn’t in love with Kay, even though we both tried it on for size for a while. It was like dressing up, playing at being lovers because it was what we both wanted, and neither complained, until that night at the Dome. Perhaps if I had trusted her more, let her in, we’d have become something more. But I can’t do that. I can’t take the risk. Once you let someone into the building, it’s harder to keep them out of all the rooms. So I keep a moat around myself, like I’m some bizarre castle keep. I have to be careful to keep Sung-Soo out too.
As I reach the door, I get another message from Mack.
We need to talk, just the two of us. We need to sort something out to keep Sung-Soo busy today.
Okay.
It’s serious, Ren.
I sigh. Isn’t everything serious now? I don’t reply, not wanting to let any more of his tension leach into me. I have enough of my own.