Lev Rosen - Depth

“And you didn’t think I’d want to know that?” Simone didn’t say anything. “You thought I knew? You thought… what, that I was in on it?” Simone wanted to say something; she could feel words bubbling under the surface, but they just crept up into her mind and went back down again, half-syllables and lost protests drowning somewhere inside her. She opened her mouth, hoping they might come together, create some excuse, some explanation, some apology, but yes, she didn’t trust Caroline, she was afraid to, and not just Caroline, but… she sighed. Her mouth closed.

“Fuck you,” Caroline said, throwing off her glove and storming out of the room.

“Thanks,” Simone said to Danny after a minute. Danny still hadn’t lifted his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’m shit for secrets. I could tell you about how I’m trained to share everything I know, or how I thought I was helping, but… I fucked up. Sorry.”

Simone shook her head. She’d been ready to hit him hard enough to dislodge the computer in his head, but all that drained out of her when she saw the expression of regret on his face. She knew she should be furious with him, but she just felt sorry for him. She was angrier with herself.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep it from her. It was stupid.”

“And kinda mean,” Danny added.

Simone glared. “Be quiet unless you’re apologizing.” Simone took a deep breath and sat down on the floor. She felt cold. “Fuck,” she said to no one in particular. She reached to her side but remembered she wasn’t wearing her coat. “Give me my trench,” she said to Danny. Wordlessly, he complied. She took off her glove so she could fish her cigarettes out of the pocket. She lit one, leaned back against the wall, and pulled herself into a cross-legged position. When she’d had a good inhale she held her cigarette up next to her cheek.

“You should go apologize,” Danny said after a minute, taking his glove off.

“It could have been an act,” Simone said.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” She inhaled again. She wanted to believe it, though. What did that say about her? She didn’t ask the question aloud. Danny wasn’t good at lying.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Simone looked up, her mouth already curving into a smile in hopes it was Caroline, but it was the lane attendant.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “No smoking!” He pointed at the sign on the door he was still holding open. Simone quickly stubbed the cigarette out on the floor next to her. “Don’t do that!” he said.

“Sorry,” Simone said. Then an alarm went off, a loud piercing thing, and the room turned a dull red color, shutting the VR interface off.

“You set off the alarms!” the attendant shouted. “Oh fuck.” He ran out the way he came, just as sprinklers started spraying down thick pelts of freezing water on them. Danny began to laugh. He tried to cover his mouth and hide it, but he was bad at that, too. Simone stared at him as the water poured down on her, until he gave up and just let the laughter pour out of him.

“Sorry,” he said, between laughs, “sorry.” Simone got up and put on her coat, which was also soaked. The floor was covered with water and filling up fast. They needed to leave. Simone pushed the door open and waved for Danny to come along.

Outside the lobby was chaos as people ran from their lanes to the front door. Simone and Danny joined them, running out the front door and into New York, where waves were crashing, but at least it wasn’t raining. She and Danny walked a few blocks without saying anything, Danny still giggling.

Simone lit another cigarette.

“You really should apologize,” Danny said finally. “She trusted you.” He shrugged at her. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him, but through him at the city. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’ll call ya.” Then he walked away, dripping wet, but with his shoulders back and his chest puffed out like he was the luckiest kid on the ocean. Simone watched him go and finished her cigarette. She lit another and finished that one too. The cigarettes weren’t doing anything for her, or maybe they were just giving her that sour sensation in her stomach. She needed something else to make her feel… different.

She pulled her hair back and wrung out what water was left, then put it in a ponytail so it wouldn’t stick to her. She dried her face on her sleeves. Her trench coat was already dry, her pants and shirt less so, but she didn’t care. She headed for deCostas’ hotel. She hadn’t answered that message from him—hadn’t even read it. She tapped her earpiece and told it to dictate his latest message to her as she walked.

“Simone, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our time together tonight, and that I was perfectly prepared to be a gentleman and order us dinner, or take us out for dinner—I’m not sure if my hotel does room service—had you only been there when I woke up. I hope your sudden departure didn’t indicate regret or, worse, disappointment with our activities. It was the most fun I’ve had since coming to this city. I also hope this doesn’t mean our partnership is over. I have many more buildings to inspect, and I look forward to your company—in the buildings or elsewhere. Let me know if you’d like me to send you more addresses.”

Simone smirked at the message. It was careful , she thought with a bit of disdain. But he had been fun, and the money was still good. She’d keep up with him. She might need the money for a lawyer soon, anyway. She hadn’t heard from Peter or Kluren; she didn’t know if they were building a case against her, if they were waiting at her office to arrest her, or if this would just be another mark in her file. They had just as much evidence as she did. Less now. She knew The Blonde’s name. Marina. No surname, though. She could ask Danny to figure it out, check the guest list at the Four Seasons, but she didn’t want to talk to Danny right now. Or anybody else.

The sun was setting when she rounded a building and got a view of deCostas’ hotel. A small car rolled past Simone, making the wooden slats of the bridge she was crossing shudder. Below, the water was getting anxious, splashing up in anticipation of something. Simone studied the horizon. There were some dark clouds, maybe a storm. She couldn’t tell how far away. She could always get a room in the hotel when she was done with deCostas. She didn’t want to spend the night, give him the wrong idea.

deCostas stepped out of his hotel onto the bridge and looked around. Simone rolled her head and stayed where she was. He didn’t see her. He checked his wristpiece and walked off, away from Simone. Simone followed him.

The whole city was dark, and the water was black, except for the bright spots of green beneath the streetlights. Simone wasn’t sure if it was odd that deCostas was wandering without her. Wasn’t she his tour guide? It was a silly thought, of course—he could go wherever he wanted. But it felt strange. Where was he going? She followed him for several blocks, keeping her eyes on the horizon now and then, hanging back so he didn’t see her stalking—no, that was Caroline’s word for it— following him. It felt good to be doing this, to be hanging back and watching, to be analyzing the way his head turned so she could duck out of sight in time.

They ended up in front of the Four Seasons. deCostas stopped to look at his wristpiece again, and, as he did so, The Blonde—Marina—came down the steps and shook hands with him. He said something, and she laughed. She smiled and said something. It was freezing cold, like the bottom of the ocean, but they didn’t seem to mind. As they walked off together, she linked her arm into his. He looked down at this gesture, as if surprised, or curious, but did not unlink it. Simone watched them walk away until they were tiny specks that vanished in the rising fog.