Кейт Форсит - Relics, Wrecks and Ruins - Anthology of Speculative Fiction Short Works

She slid down the side of her pipe, took a few long, slow breaths, and went inside to change clothes. By the time she’d finished dressing, the skin of her hands and thighs was already regrowing and the desire to kill had faded.

This wasn’t the first time in the last few months that they’d tried to discourage her recharging trips to the overcity. But it was the first time they’d aimed to hit. What had changed? She’d just need to be more careful and not annoy any of the Cadre who ran the overcity. If she stayed out of their way, they would keep leaving her alone.

She sank onto the gray-brown pallet bed, stared for a long time at a discolored square patch of concrete on the floor, then studied her quarters. The walls were gray concrete. Acid rain trickled down via a funnel from the outside, leaving eroded channels. The steel bucket she used to collect the stuff was half-full. Still not enough to process for Mrs. Kensington and her children. The only other possession in her tiny habitation was a reading chair upholstered in torn brown leather.

Yes, this was her life. As safe as she could be. As safe as she could make it for the undercity dwellers—and for Lena’s daughters.

Three thumps rattled the door and she saw a slim infrared silhouette through the flimsy wood.

“Dotti, it’s me, Naoki,” he said through the door.

“Fuck off,” she yelled as she pulled closer the loose robe that covered her body.

“Come on, Dotti, let me in,” he said.

Her vision blurred for a second and she checked her pill stash, wondering if she should take one. No. Naoki wouldn’t ask any stupid questions or trigger her combat mode.

“Okay,” she said.

The door opened and Naoki flounced in, leaving it ajar behind him. He wore a kimono that floated like flower petals, transparent in some places and a liquid sheen of color that flowed and moved in others. He fell into the reading chair and placed a red handbag that probably cost more than the entire block Dot lived in on the end of the bed.

He smelled sweetly of the cherry blossom dessert, sakuramochi .

“You here to fuck?” she asked.

“Not on that bed I’m not.” Naoki pouted, his white makeup and red lips perfect and out of place in the undercity. He eyed her appraisingly. “I’ll fuck if you’ll let me do a makeover on you.”

“Go to hell.”

He shrugged and managed to look coy and wanton at the same time, eyes half-lidded, one shoulder peeking out from the kimono. “I’ll let you teach me some more.”

“You asked me to teach you. I did it against my better judgement, and my bet is that when you tried all the rough stuff on your bitches, they got turned off straight away and you lost at least two clients.”

“Only one.”

“See? They love you for your feminine good looks, honey.” Dot leaned back against the cold concrete. “Use it. Don’t try to be something you’re not.”

“Wow, very Zen.”

“Cut the bullshit. Why are you here? You in trouble with a man again?”

He sighed theatrically. “Why won’t they leave me alone? Do I need a sign on my ass saying ‘closed for business, vaginas only’?”

Dotti barked a laugh. “Probably.”

“No, I’m not in trouble with a man. It’s worse than that.”

“Oh, shit, don’t tell me you fell in love with a cute little girl from the Mansions.”

“Worse.” Naoki dropped the pretense of being a pretty, brainless geisha and frowned. “I have a sponsor. I went exclusive.”

“Who?” she asked sharply.

“Zheng Yongxin.”

She sat up straight. “Holy fucking mother of God, Naoki, what the fuck ? Didn’t I tell you? Two fucking years ago, I told you—”

“I know!” he yelled. “Don’t get mixed up with Cadres, and whatever you do, don’t go exclusive with one. But Dotti, it was so great. She bought me all these clothes and shoes, and we went shopping together, she rented me an apartment in the overcity, she let me do a makeover on her, it was so great…”

“And then she asked you to go exclusive and you said yes, seeing the yuan signs flying around her head. You stupid bitch.”

He winced. “She knows my history, that I ran away from that arranged marriage with the old guy. When she proposed going exclusive, it was more than just for my looks. She knows I’m educated and from a good family. She likes my intelligence and guts. She loves the way I sing. She may even be able to get me a recording contract.”

Dot shook her head and flung her arms out. “Well, enjoy your golden cage, little boy. You could have had your own geisha house in a couple of years and you threw it all away.”

“It’s worse than that.” He checked over his shoulder, rose, ran to the door, and closed it. “I think she backed me up,” he whispered.

She laughed again. “Yeah, sure. Why the hell would she do that when there’s a million more like you at the houses all dying to get into her pants?”

Naoki sagged into the chair. “I think I made her angry. She wanted me to have her baby. She’s too old to have kids, so she asked me to do it for her.”

Dot stared. “You’re pregnant?”

“No way. I am not sacrificing my figure to get the implants so some old bitch can have her dream child.”

“So, what, then?” Dot scowled. “You think she backed you up in a fit of anger? How do you know? And why would she?”

“She wants a version of me that’ll have her baby.” Naoki leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “She’ll make a clone with my memories and education, but one that’ll follow orders, one that’ll have her baby for her. I’m sure she’s backed me up.”

“Not even a Cadre would do anything that illegal, Naoki. This is way beyond paranoid. Besides, the cloning tech was destroyed after the war.” She clenched her teeth to hold in the after me… after all of us.

“You’re one yourself. You know…”

She jumped to her feet. “One of what ? One of them ?” She pointed at the door, every muscle tensed against the urge to go into combat mode. “Get the fuck out…”

He raised his hands, palms out. “No, no, Dotti, I don’t mean it like that. Hell, girl, you’re one of my best friends. I owe you so much. I’d still be here in the undercity, hiding from the family if it weren’t for you.” He pouted but stopped just short of batting his eyelids. “Just tell me—what was it like being backed up?”

She quivered, her hands balled. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Oh, come on, I heard the rumors. Dots remember, they say.” Naoki tilted his head to one side, gazing at her from under his long fake lashes.

Dot sank back onto the bed. “Dots remember…”

“If you remember what it was like, then you can help me.” He touched her hand, tentatively. “Please? About three months ago, I passed out in a club, high on Z, and lost a whole week. I need to know why.”

“You were passed out on Z, that’s why,” Dot snapped.

“Or Zheng was backing me up, and she’s growing a clone, and when it’s ready she’ll…” His eyes were wide and he grabbed her arm. “She’ll kill me and put the clone in my place, and nobody will know!”

Dot tensed again, looking pointedly at his hand on her arm.

Naoki swallowed and let go. “Isn’t there anything you can remember about the process? Did it make you unconscious for a whole week?” His tone was plaintive.

“That wasn’t me.”

“Your template then. Whatever.” He was desperate. “What was it like?”

“I have no memories from my template,” she lied. “All we got was the template’s military training. Grunts like me didn’t get personal memories.”

His face sagged, brittle cracks appearing in the white makeup.