La Diyor was a frenetic urban wilderness, and when Myka and I walked shoulder-to-shoulder it was hard to see the handcuffs. Downside: I had to walk close to Myka, and she did not show any consideration of my small limp.
To be fair, we had good reason to hurry. With Myka out of contact from Cadinoff, her people would definitely be searching for her. As would Sev Tech. And, of course, everybody wanted me and my valuable stomach.
The dark of the night couldn’t compete with the brilliant lights of La Diyor, but it was still dark enough to remind me that I’d been out all day. All I’d wanted was a boring expo to distract me from life. Instead I got dragged into this fiasco.
Ryan. Shit. He’d be waiting up for me. Like usual. He hated it, and it’s a shitty thing to do to a kid.
I had a sudden impulse to be a better person as I saw one of those revamped public comms. I usually drank those away, but I wasn’t in a position to do so now. Instead I tugged at Myka.
“I’m gonna call Ryan.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Then I’m calling Cadinoff.”
“Have a heart here. I’m not calling Ryan for back-up or anything. I just wanna let him know I’m okay.”
Myka crossed her arms in front of her chest, dragging my hand along with her. “And I want to let Glezos know that I’m okay.”
I leaned into her. Just a little intimate moment to any passers-by. “Ryan is a kid. His parents are dead, and I don’t know what sort of shit he went through before he came to me. Even a brainwashed, corporate toady like you has to have some understanding and sympathy.”
Her gaze was steady and stubborn. She looked like the mean teacher who’d never let you get away with anything.
Insults weren’t the best tack. “Listen, Myka. Please. I fuck up with him a lot, and I just wanna do right for once.”
Her silence resounded. Avoiding her gaze in a humiliating act of submission, I studied my hand on her jacket sleeve. Oil was a permanent feature of my fingernails, and I was dirtying her jacket with my greasy mechanic hands. She’d have to burn the entire outfit after this.
Finally, an agreeable hum broke the stand-off.
“Just to check on him,” she said.
If I stopped to ponder the whys, she could change her mind. No use in risking it. When that mean teacher cut you some slack, you grabbed it and set off that firework in the schoolyard. I beelined straight to the public comm, no care at all for the handcuffs being visible.
I always carried cash—an assortment of currencies. Habit from the war days when bank networks were unreliable. I thunked in the fee and punched in Ryan’s code, setting the visual display to OFF. Better he not see Myka.
It took a while. My brain played a vidreel of him at home. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the sofa watching vids. Or maybe he was doing a late-night on some of that repair work. He did that sometimes while I was out. I’d get home to find the overnight job already done and waiting for me to hand off to the customer. That kid was…
No, I wasn’t gonna get teary-eyed in front of Myka fucking Benton.
When he picked up, the heavy thud of bass blasted into my ear, pulsing beat dancing from the speaker and mixing with an eruption of laughter.
I pressed the handset closer to my face. “Ryan?”
More laughter. The tell-tale sound of being shifted in someone’s pocket and voices of protest. The music muted.
“Fuck. Was that a voice?” Ryan spoke with a big grin. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell.
Myka smirked at me. I turned away from her. “Hey, it’s El.”
“El! Hey, it’s El!” He called to disembodied giggles. “Your nickname? Is just a letter. That’s fucking wild.”
“Are you still out?”
His voice muffled. He must have lowered his handset to have a discussion with his friends. My name shortening to “El” was a heavy epiphany for them.
So much for the suffering kid at home.
“Ryan, get back on the handset.”
“Shit.” His voice again. Clear and loud. “There you are. What’s going on?”
“Ryan, are you all high?” His atrocious accent was even stronger and more atrocious than usual.
He giggled. “So high. Fucking shit. This place is great.”
I sagged against the comm in defeat. “I’m glad you’re having fun. Be safe, okay? You got a spotter?”
Another voice cut in. A young woman’s. One of Ryan’s little friends. I’d met her a few times. Blonde chick. Cute. Had an awkward crush on me. “I’m spotter, Ms. Henderson.”
“Elly.” I corrected her automatically. “I’m out late. Just make sure Ryan gets home safe.”
“Of course, Ms. Henderson. Elly.”
Shit. That was the horniest voice I’d ever heard. I glanced at Myka to see if she’d noticed.
“Thanks, um…” I never remembered names.
“Celia.” Myka mumbled.
“Thanks, Celia.” I hung up.
Okay, so that wasn’t what I’d expected, but at least he wasn’t worried about me. By far, the worst part was having Myka as an audience. Oh, and as a database of Ryan’s friends. Why did she know Ryan’s friends?
She could have rubbed this all in my face, but she remained quiet as we continued walking to the rail station. A delicious smell wafted through the thick of the crowd, triggering a growl from my stomach. A food vendor huddled against a bank hawked steamed buns to passersby.
Myka cut through the crowd to
