Twinmaker

“Dark.”

“Yes . . . but I already knew that.”

He grinned. “So give me something harder.”

Clair thought for a second. “What’s my least favorite city in the world?”

“Hmmm. Omsk.”

“Is that a real place?”

“Of course it is. You’d never hate somewhere imaginary.”

“But I’ve never been there.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll go there one day, and you’ll hate it. Take my word for it.”

“Have you been there?”

“No.”

“So how do you know?”

“I just know you, see? Want to go check it out? We can be there in thirty seconds.”

“No thanks.”

“Frightened I’ll be right?”

She laughed and punched him on the arm. It was as solid as a rock, even through the parkas. He snatched the oxygen bottle from her and took a hit.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

“What? No.” Just you-and-Libby, she wanted to say.

“Good.”

“Why?”

He sucked on the canister a second time, then gave it back to her. She resisted the urge to bring it immediately to her lips.

“Maybe it’s the oh-two,” he said, inching closer so they were pressed tightly against each other on the narrow ledge, “maybe it’s this place . . . I don’t know. But I’ve been wanting to get you alone all night. . . .”

Zep raised his right arm and put it around her shoulders while his other hand came across him to tip her hood back slightly. Her head tilted with it.

Every nerve cell in Clair’s body came alive, and at the same time every neuron in her brain froze in shock. This wasn’t happening, surely.

But it was. He leaned into her. She didn’t pull away. His lips were parted. She could see his teeth. When he breathed out, the air misted between them, only there was hardly any between at all now. If he came any closer . . . all she had to do was . . .

“Wait, stop,” she said, raising her left arm and pushing firmly against his chest with fingers splayed. “What are you doing?”

He blinked at her. “What am I what?”

“Libby, remember?”

“This isn’t about Libby.”

“But it has to be about Libby. You can’t fool around with me while you’re seeing her. You can’t. I can’t.” She was talking to herself as much as him, and she didn’t think she was doing a very convincing job. “Besides, she already thinks you’re cheating on her with someone else. That’s a clique I’m not eager to join.”

“There’s no clique,” he said with a frown. “There’s no one else. Is that who you think I am?”

Before Clair could answer, a boom of flesh on metal came from above and behind them, heavy enough to make their perch vibrate. Clair whipped around and saw someone skating down the slippery slope of the dome. It was the boy who had been threatening to jump earlier. He was waving his hands above his head to keep himself upright. His expression was one of shock, as though he couldn’t believe what gravity was doing to him.

He tried to backpedal and fell with his legs in the air. It might have been funny except for his cry of absolute terror. He knew and everyone watching knew that if nothing arrested his fall, he would slide unchecked faster and faster to the edge of the dome. From there, there was nothing but down. To the icy rocks below.

People were shouting. Zep was moving. The ledge complained as he leaped to his feet and stepped over Clair. Two more steps gave him a short running jump off the ledge. Clair didn’t have time even to think as he launched himself into space. Then the rope connecting him to the antenna snapped taut, and she clutched at it with both hands, fearing the carabiner giving way and him being swept off the dome.

Zep hit the dome spread-eagled and belly first, causing another hollow boom, louder than the first. He skidded down the icy slope and reached for the falling guy. They clutched at each other with graceless urgency, scrabbling for a grip on slippery parkas and gloves, and clung tight. The extra weight made the ledge under her groan alarmingly. Clair held on to the rope and leaned back as far as she dared.

The rope wrenched Zep and the guy along an arc, tumbling down over the bulge of the dome and out of sight. When the rope was pointing straight down over the dome, Clair felt some of the weight ease, as the falling guy was helped down from below, she hoped. She braced her feet against the antenna’s base and kept pulling on the rope. Her breath came fast, rasping in her ears.

People were thundering down the ladder. Some of them shouted at her, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. The rope moved under hands again, and she leaned back as Zep rappelled up to the ledge. Her heart thudded extra hard on seeing him, and inside her gloves, her hands felt tremulous and sweaty. The world had narrowed down to just the two of them. She no longer saw the perilous view at all.

Zep looked like he might be feeling the same. His eyes were a bright, shining blue, and he was blinking a lot. Two red spots burned in his cheeks.

When he’d reached the ledge and had a good grip on the antenna, she let go and said, “Next time, just throw the rope, you idiot.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, his breath steaming, “I should’ve thought of that.”

She grabbed his head with both hands and brought their lips together, hard. Not for long; he was breathing heavily, and it still wasn’t right. But if the rope or antenna hadn’t held, he would have fallen and Clair would have missed her one and only chance to do it properly. She had to make up for that now, while she could.

“Jesus,” he said when she pulled away, “is this what I have to do get you to kiss me?”

She lowered her head so her face was buried in his chest. They both laughed, almost hysterical on adrenaline, and she clutched him as though she were the one falling.

4

THE ACCIDENT DIDN’T kill the party, but it did have a decidedly sobering effect. Dawn did the rest. Within half an hour it all was over, and Clair was standing in line for the booth with Zep and Xandra Nantakarn and fifty other people, all shivering and awaiting their turns to go home. There was some disgruntled muttering about the delay. Clair hadn’t considered that downside of the d-mat bottleneck.

“Don’t feel bad,” Xandra told Clair when her chance to leave came. “No one died, and the crashlander legend lives on. See you tomorrow night?”

“Uh . . . maybe.” Clair wasn’t thinking that far ahead. The electric bubble she had occupied earlier had popped. Now she just felt tired.

“Don’t wait too long. One day we really will run out of venues.”

Xandra winked as the door shut on her, leaving Clair and Zep alone in the restless crowd.

“Now what?” he asked her.

“Now what what?”

“The night doesn’t have to end here. I have some scotch back at my dorm, and we could both use some warming up— Hey!”

She had kicked him. “Don’t do that, Zep.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He retreated into himself a little. “I guess I should talk to her.”

Clair hated pushing him away, but she knew it was the right thing to do.