Lavie Tidhar - The Apex Book of World SF 2

Nearly forty years have passed. I have seen so many dreams blossom and die, so many broken promises, and so many loved ones who followed the natural order of life, the one you rebelled against, forcing me to betray it, too. Papa always said that children should not die before their parents; I accepted that as a commandment.

One hundred and six years after your first departure, that message arrived on the hyperjump channel. That The Persephone would arrive in six days. That it would carry your body. Killed in an excavation accident on the fifth planet of Procyon Alpha. How large an error was it this time? One second, two…? Enough to bury all your passion for transcendence in an avalanche of xenophobic stones. I had wanted to cry, but at one hundred and eleven years of age, one’s reflexes grow sluggish and sometimes disappear. I signed for your body in order to process the customary funeral ceremony. It did not surprise me to once again see the mother who had abandoned her home when I was five. Aside from the skin colour or the hair a centimetre or two longer, nothing had changed.

Now I have dressed you with my own hands, something I don’t remember you ever having done for me, and I come back to your ears, as useless as my own have been, to those rock crystal earrings from Delta Altair.

Once more I sense the flames as they consume fat, tendons and bones. But I know that this will be the last time. Now you are returning to the heavens in the form of smoke. You return to the night, but not to the stars, those windows open to an endless parade of strangers’ homes. Now that you will never leave again, now that, for some reason you could not foresee, the natural order of your life has been fulfilled, I can rest. I no longer have to look at the sky and ask which star you are on.

We were at Stones, playing pool, drinking, goofing around, maybe hoping to score a little sugar, when Kendra arrived, all moffied up and gloaming, like, an Aito/329. “Ahoy, Special K, where you been, girl, so juiced to kill?” Tendeka asked while he racked up the balls, all click-clack in their white plastic triangle. Old-school, this pool bar was. But Kendra didn’t answer. Girl just grinned, reached into her back pocket for her phone, hung skate-rat-style off a silver chain connected to her belt, and infra’d five rand to the table to get tata machance on the next game.

But I was watching the girl and, as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, I saw that tell-tale glow ‘neath her sleeve. Long sleeves in summer didn’t cut it. So, it didn’t surprise me none in the least when K waxed the table. Ten-Ten was surprised though. Ten-Ten slipped his groove. But boy kept it in, didn’t say anything, just infra’d another five to the table and racked ‘em again. Anyone else but Ten woulda racked ‘em hard, woulda slammed those balls on the table, eish. But Ten, Ten went the other way. Just by how careful he was. Precise ‘n clipped like an assembly line. So you could see.

Boyfriend wasn’t used to losing, especially not to Special-K. I mean, the girl held her own ‘gainst most of us, but Ten could wax us all six-love, baby. Boyfriend carried his own cue in a special case. Kif shit, it was. Lycratanium, separate pieces that clicked into each other, assembled slick ‘n cold and casual-like, like he was a soldier in a war movie snapping a sniper rifle together. But Kendra, grinning now, said, “No, my bra. I’m out,” set her cue down on the empty table next to us.

“Oh, ja, like Ten’s gonna let this hook slide.” Rob snorted into his drink.

“Best of three.” Tendeka said and smiled loose and easy. Like it didn’t matter and chalked his cue.

Girl hesitated and shrugged then. Picked up the cue. Tendeka flicked the triangle off the table, flip-rolling it between his fingers lightly. “Your break.”

Kendra chalked-up, spun the white ball out to catch it at the line. Edged it then sideways so’s it would take the pyramid out off-centre. Girl leant over the table. Slid the tip of the cue over her knuckles once, taking aim, pulled back and cut loose, smooth as sugar. Crack! Balls twisting out across the table. Sunk four solids straight-up. Black in the middle and not a single stripe down.

Rob whistled. “Shit. You been practising, K?”

Kendra didn’t even look up. Took out another two solids and lined up a third in the corner pocket. Girl’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile, no, didn’t look at Ten, who was still sayin’ nothin’, like. He chalked his cue again, like he hadn’t done it already, and stepped up. The freeze was so tight I couldn’t take it. Anyway. I knew what was coming. So, off by the bar I was, but nears enough so I was still in on the action, like. Ten lined ‘em up and took out two stripes at the same time, rocketing ‘em into different pockets. Bounced the white off the pillow and took another, edged out the solid K had all lined up. Another stripe down and boy lined up a fifth blocking the corner pocket. “You’re up.”

Girl just stood there lookin’ as if she was sizing up.

“K. You’re up.”

Girl snapped her head towards Tendeka. Tuned back in. Took her cue up, leant over, standing on tiptoes and nicked the white ball light as candy, so it floated, spinning, into the middle of table, like. Shrugged at Ten, smiling, and that ball just kept on spinning. Stepped back, set her cue down on the table next and started walking over to the bar, to me, while that white ball, damn, was still spinning.

“Hey! What the fuck?”

“Ah, c’mon, Ten. You know I gotcha down.”

“What! Game ain’t even started. And what’s with this, man? Fuckin’ party tricks don’t mean shit.”

“It’s over, Ten.”

“You on drugs, girl? You tweaked?”

“Fuck off, Ten.”

Ten shoved his cue at Rob, who snatched it quick, and rounded on the girlfriend. “You’re mashed, Kendra!” He grabbed her shoulder, spun her round, “C’mon, show me!”

“Kit Kat, baby. Give it a break.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme see. C’mon.”

“Fuck off, Tendeka! Serious!”

People were looking now. Cams were, too, though in a place like Stones, they probably weren’t working none too well. Owner paid a premium for faulty equipment, like. Jazz was defending Kendra now. Not that she needed it. We all knew the girl wasn’t a waster, like. Even Ten.

Now me. I was a waster. I was skeef. Jacked that kind shit straight into my tongue, popping lurid lurex candy capsules into the piercing to disseminate, like. Lethe or supersmack or kitty. Some prefer it old-style, pills ‘n needles, but me, the works work best straight in through that slippery warm pink muscle. Porous your mouth is. So’s it’s straight into the blood and saliva absorbs the rest into your glands. I could tell you all things about that wet-hole mouth that makes it perfect for drugs, like. But, tell you true, it’s all cheap shit. Black-market. Ill legit. Not like sweet Kendra’s high. Oh, no, girl had gone the straight ‘n arrow. All the way, baby. All the way.

“C’mon Ten, back off, man.” Rob was getting real nervous, like. Bartender, too, twitchin’ to call his defuser. But Kendra-sweet had enough now, spun on Ten, finally, stuck out her tongue at him like a laaitie. And Jazz sighed. “There. Happy now?” But Ten wasn’t. For yeah, sure as sugar, Special-K’s tongue was a virgin. Never been pierced by a stud let alone an applijack. Never had that sweet rush as the micro-needles release slick-quick into the fleshy pink. Never had her tongue go numb with the dark oiliness of it so’s you can’t speak for minutes. Doesn’t matter though. Talkin’d be least of your worries. Supposin’ you had any. But then Ten knew that all along. Cos you can’t play the way the girlfriend did on the rof. Tongue’s not the only thing that goes numb. And boyfriend knows it. And everything’s click-clicking into place.