Under Dark Sky Law (22 page)

“Sorry about that,” he said. “After the last
time you picked up that shit that you brought back from the flats
and it spread to other people, I don’t really want to take any
chances. Our numbers are dwindling as it is.”

“Point taken,” she said. She wasn’t exactly
in a hurry to have another month long battle with flesh-eating
microbes anyway.

“You sure you don’t want any pain
medication?” he said.

She put her hands over her face, the light
from the doctor’s lamp searing through her palms and closed
eyelids. “I had a moment of weakness out there in the dead zones,
but we’re not in mortal peril now, so I’ll pass. You know how I
am,” she said.

She could hear the sounds of him cleaning up
needles, gauze, blood, and sutures. “Yeah I do, you’re a fucking
eternal pain in the ass, Xero the queen of the desert” he said and
laughed.

“The one and only,” she said, laughing along
with him. She sat up again, stifling more than one groan.
“Seriously, though. Thanks for watching over shit down here. I
couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

He stopped his cleanup, a sad looking falling
over his face. “I’m doing the best I can,” he said, and she knew
what he was talking about.

“But it’s not enough,” she said. “I know. I’m
sorry we failed, but I honestly wasn’t expecting a major terrorist
event to fuck our shit over. When we get back to base we’ll figure
out what our next move is.”

He turned his back and began washing his
hands. “Do you want to see her?” he said softly.

She scooted further towards the “I was going
to ask you if I could, but I don’t want to make things worse,” she
said.

He dropped his head and shook it back and
forth, still facing towards the sink. “It doesn’t matter. She’s
intubated and unconscious,” he said.

She followed him down the hallway, dragging
the IV pole behind her. The hallways were dark until they triggered
dim lights that flashed on and turned off once they’d passed.
Ostensibly all the flats and pits were still under dark sky law.
Enforcement of the dark sky laws was shoddy at best, but it was one
set of statutes that Xero didn’t mind enforcing. They had worked
really hard to become essentially energy independent—they had one
of the largest solar arrays in the country, along with some
sporadic wind and biofuel options that let them have power for what
they needed when they wanted it.

However, that wasn’t any reason to just
squander their energy. They were constantly under threat of attack
from marauders, and other rival cartels that would love to steal
their resources. Other issues such as weather hazards could also
take a bite out of their energy resources at any moment. Instead of
taking their cues from some of the smarter pits, the domes and
flats were still squandering their energy, using resources that
couldn’t be replaced, keeping the streets lit up like old world
Christmas trees, as though the great fall had never happened. It
was just smarter to design your community to be as efficient and
ecologically sound as possible. Plus, the sky always looked so much
better under dark sky laws—some nights you could even see stars
through the usual haze.

“It’s awfully quiet,” she said as she loped
along the dim hallway.

“That’s because I have this whole wing roped
off as a private section for security purposes, as well as just for
the sake of selfishness. I want this wing ready to go for injured
Grease Weasels, meaning it needs to be empty and easy to secure,
and I also just wanted Trina to have privacy,” he said.

Their shadows flickered and danced like an
old reel to reel movie under the oscillating lights.

“Well you sure made certain that it looks
creepy and menacing. It’s got that whole thing goin’ for it,” Xero
said.

Milo shot her a look and she gave a
conciliatory shrug in his direction. At the end of the hallway she
could hear sounds of a respirator pumping in and out and a brighter
light shone out through the doorway. She followed him inside and a
stab of anger shredded its way through her heart. Trina was laying
motionless in the hospital bed, connected to innumerable tubes and
wires, her chest gently rising and falling with a steady, even
pulse.

The room smelled like death.

She looked like Sleeping Beauty or Snow
White, with her bleached blond hair spread out around her pillow
like damp seaweed. She had been sick long enough that several
inches of her dark roots were showing. Her almond shaped eyes
looked like they were they were moving underneath her lids, but her
pale lips were deathly motionless where they pursed around the grey
ventilator tube.

“She’s not contagious like that—the spores
are deep in her lungs and it’s all being processed by the
ventilator,” he said, perhaps noticing Xero’s hesitation to get any
closer. She wasn’t afraid of death or contagion. She was afraid of
boiling over with anger at seeing one of her best friends
incapacitated like that while she was paralyzed to do anything
about it because some asshole had decided to blow up a whole
goddamn dome.

She took several deep breaths and approached
the bedside where she put her hands around Trina’s cold fingers.
“Don’t worry, my friend. We won’t let you go out like this. The
cavalry is on it’s way,” she said and thought she saw some response
in the movements of Trina’s eyes. She was probably imagining it,
but she liked the thought that Trina might be still in there, awake
and fighting.

She turned to Milo who was standing fixed in
place, quiet tears tumbling down his freckled face. He looked like
a child looking death in its terrible face hundreds of times, even
though the truth was he’d seen hundreds, thousands of people die in
his lifetime. He wasn’t a fighter by nature, but when put into a
corner, Milo would fight and kill with the best of them.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Get this
thing out of my arm so we can get back to base. Time’s wasting,”
she said.

CHAPTER 19

Despite the fire that had been lit under her
ass after seeing Trina hovering on the brink of death, Milo had
perhaps the better sense that they wouldn’t be able to head out
immediately anyway, and everyone still needed food and rest to make
sure they were at their most clear-headed. To that effect he’d
chased her off to the showers where she got the first hot water
she’d had since leaving Xed’s house. In this case the water was
extra therapeutic seeing as how it was also the first shower she’d
had since being doused in the chemical rain. True, when they were
at the clinic Milo had basically scrubbed every inch of her body
down with almost embarrassing thoroughness, but it wasn’t the same
as actually washing some of the hundreds of less than pleasant
odors out of her hair. The warm water burned on her already raw
body, and Milo had cautioned her to take a cool dip, if nothing
else, but she didn’t really give a fuck.

In their absence Neptune had given Radar
access to the facilities as well, and she had helped him rid his
clothes of some of the same horrendous road dirt and flats sludge
that had attacked them both over the last few days. Radar seemed to
think they were all too fussy, but like Milo had said, you let the
filth sink in too long and before you knew it you had a bigger
problem than you could handle. Like a bacteria that turned your
skin into a black slurry. Necrotizing fasciitis would seriously
ruin your month.

Neptune had also scrounged together some
relatively decent food, which was impressive considering there were
various essential foodstuffs that she had intended to bring back
from Yuma, but of course that hadn’t gone down the way she’d
intended. Using what had been the alley’s snack stand, she put
together some burgers and hotdogs made of synthmeat, and even
managed to slap a few real vegetables on the patties. She made a
mental note to check into their growing agriculture program to see
if there was any way they could increase their crop yield.

They all sat around a big table in front of
the old shoe rental stand that was now festooned with weapons.
Strategy meetings could leave you lost in thought, and it was never
a bad idea to caucus within easy reach of some destructive
weaponry. Radar had finally taken off his gloves and trench coat,
something she’d only seen happen so far when they’d been busy
screwing. He probably would have left his gloves on then too, but
Xero had forced him to take them off since the smelly rough leather
dragging across her brutalized skin wasn’t exactly a turn on. Xero
was finally back in her usual garb—black fishnet shirt covered by a
hot pink leather vest that matched Neptune’s shirt, and a ripped
pair of black jeans. Her Mohawk was finally gelled right and the
neon green strands fanned out in a semicircle around her head. It
gave her several extra inches of height, and she always felt more
powerful when the Mohawk was at full mast.

The long pipe had still come along with Rader
after Xero spent an eternity assuring the guards that it was okay
for him to bring it in. Neptune had them trained well, even if she
was somewhat annoyed by her enforcer’s not obeying her orders. That
was the way they had agreed to train them though—border security
was to follow Neptune’s instructions first and foremost, and if
there was a good enough reason they could even override Xero’s
commands in favor of Neptune’s. Being able to trust the other
Grease Weasels was one of the reasons they’d been so successful up
to that point.

“Hey there chief, I know we just met and Xero
gave you the okay, but you’re on my turf, and policy says no
outsiders get weapons around the negotiation table,” Neptune said,
trying to use her most diplomatic tone, and motioned towards the
pipe with her chin. “If you could just surrender it for the moment,
that would be great.”

Radar looked her dead in the eye and said
calmly, “No.”

Neptune cleared her throat and looked at Xero
who just cocked her head, gauging the situation. From what she’d
seen of either of them, she wasn’t actually certain who would come
out on top in a fight. She had to squash morbid curiosity for the
sake of time and peacekeeping—if circumstances had been different,
she wouldn’t have minded watching the two duke it out.

“I trust him—he could have killed me days ago
if that’s what he wanted. It’s just a pipe,” Xero said.

Neptune stood up, her face turning red. She
had fixed herself up as well, and was wearing a clean hot pink tank
top and black cargo pants. Her pixie haircut was spiked up high and
a large smear of purple eye shadow ringed her eyes, making them
look even bigger than they already were.

Xero put a hand up to Neptune and turned to
Radar. “Look dude, I don’t like being unarmed either, but do you
think you could do me a solid and just give Neptune the fucking
stick?” she said.

He met her eyes, his gaze soft and composed.
“No,” he said. “Sorry.”

Neptune took a few steps around the table.
“Look buddy, I don’t know who you think you are, but we don’t let a
lot of bitches in here and show them this kind of hospitality in
the first place, but we especially don’t deal well with rudeness
and bullshit. I’m going to give you to the count of three to hand
over that fucking pipe peacefully,” she said.

Xero put a hand to her forehead. Neptune
wasn’t wrong, and she was being smarter about the situation than
Xero had been, but Xero was known for relying on her impressions of
people. Her work as a psychiatrist had made her a savvy judge of
character, and she was rarely wrong in her assumptions. However, in
this time of heightened danger, extra caution was never a bad idea.
Still, Neptune was such a fucking hardass, and Xero knew that no
intervention would make her cool off. Some things just had to play
out.

Neptune counted to three and made a grab for
Radar’s pipe that was leaning precariously against the side of his
chair. He didn’t try to take it out of her reach. Instead, he just
reached back and put his hand around it.

“Neptune, don’t,” Xero said and tried to keep
her friend from grabbing the metal pipe, but Neptune was far too
fast.

There was a scream as Neptune’s hand made
contact with the metal and she fell flat on the floor. Radar stood
and backed up a few feet.

“Neptune!” Milo yelled and came around the
table to inspect his fallen friend. Neptune was already sitting
back up again. She shook her head a few times and blinked her eyes.
Xero thought she might be imagining it, but it looked like her
already spiky hair was reaching even further towards the
ceiling.

“Fuck, I should have warned you about that,”
Xero said, fiddling with a spiked dog collar she wore around her
neck, wishing she’d remembered Radar’s Taser abilities before
Neptune had made such a grab for him.

Milo had pulled a stethoscope out of
somewhere and was trying to listen to Neptune’s heart, but she was
brushing him off. “I’m alright,” she said and tried unsuccessfully
to get up on her own. Milo helped her back into one of the white
plastic bucket chairs.

Radar leaned onto the pipe, shifting all his
weight onto his right leg. “Sorry about that—didn’t mean to give
you quite so much juice. Hard to control when I’m being attacked,”
he said to Xero. She rolled her eyes.

Xero stood and folded her arms over her
chest. “Can’t you kids fucking play nice?” she said. Radar shrugged
in response.

Neptune was still out of, but was slowly
coming around. “What in the fuck just happened,” she said.

Xero shook her head at her. “Play with fire,
and you get burned,” she said. “I told you Radar would be a
worthwhile addition to the team.”

Neptune showed her teeth and sat up so fast
that the chair went backwards and smacked into Milo’s knees. “How
did he do that,” she said and pointed a finger at Radar’s
chest.