INTELLIGENT CONVERSATION

1563 4D

The taste of the sauce had faded to a low simmer in Marra‘s mouth. Frei sprawled asleep, his head resting on Deen‘s crossed legs; Deen played with a stray lock of his hair, now and then murmuring inaudible words in conversation with Oortonel. That smooth baby look he had, almost spoiled-cute. Marra didn’t like him. Deen, usually so practical, was acting like any girl might with him. Marra looked up at Engel, who stood with his back pressing against the wall facing them.

“Yeah, it’s war,” he said. “The colls, at least the ones that didn’t sell out, are on the move here. I got back, and now the Hejj are shut out of the fight. Sintherou and Arcus and Novander never forgave Hejj for giving up our rights and our land years ago.” He rubbed the spot on his forearm where the Hejji collechi marks had been scratched and blistered out. “I was gonna try to get Arlen all by myself. Ha.”

“The fight? What’s all the fighting here about?”

“This was just the militia and the corpos trying to get everybody off the streets. But that’s nothing.” Engel whacked his palm against the wall. The snap made Frei stir and mutter; Marra jumped in spite of herself. “The colls have started a real uprising. The City and the corps kicked up the relocs again and started shipping people out. Twice this year, the city cut the allocations again: less food, less education, less protection.

“Then the corps cut the good jobs. Finally the city doubled the buyout, no doubt because the corps put them up to it, and so nobody could pay and get out of the city to the free land. Then they started the relocs, out to the wastes and the arctic mines, and that was the final insult.

“You know, you picked a bad time to come back here. It’s war.” Engel slid his back down the wall until he sat with his legs doubled up, opposite the two women and Frei. He stared at the floor.

“It’s just like when we left,” Deen said. “These things never change – they just go around again.”

“Were you talking to yourself, before?” Engel asked her. He looked at Marra. “You too? You both act like older women sometimes, doing that. Not andros at all, especially with those haircuts like the Dornseuz women upcity.”

Marra glanced at Deen looking back at her, and took a deep breath. Best to trust him. “We’re not andros.” Frei stirred.

Engel nodded. “I didn’t think so. Deen said you had property in the mountains, and andros can’t have that, or any other property. You knew that, didn’t you?”

How stupid of both of them, just like that anjive business at the inn. If she’d thought for a few seconds instead of getting so excited— “Of course we did. But everything’s been confusing and weird the last few days. All we wanted to do was have a little fun after we died, and we walked into this mess.” At least Aoriver and Oortonel had shut up and gone to sleep or whatever they called it. No voices, for a while.

Engel sat up straight. “After you died? You mean you came back to life?”

“Surprised us, too,” Deen said.

“Engel.” Madhvi beckoned to him from the door to the front corridor. He stood and went to her. Marra strained to catch what she could from the young woman’s whispers. Engel nodded, and Madhvi steered him away, their backs to Marra and the others.

Frei raised his head from Deen‘s lap and murmured, “What’s going on? I fell asleep.” His head nodded again, and his eyes closed. His hands appeared less abnormal already.

Engel turned quickly to them, shrugging off Madhvi‘s hand. “They’re cleaning out this zone. Relocation, right now. Everyone. It came when the rebels took the South Power Complex. The troops are moving into position right now to seal us off.” He looked around at the room, as if trying to find a hidden door. “I’m gonna have to get out. If they find me they’ll kill me or turn me over to Arlen again.”

Madhvi said, “How about the Complex, with the others? Can we get in there from here?” She grabbed a long bag, stuffed it with clothing and food packages.

Engel pondered. “Maybe down and across and up. Yeah, there’s a way I know. It’s chancy.”

“What about us, and him?” Deen looked down at Frei‘s sleeping face.

“It’s up to you. Relocation wouldn’t suit you, either. Come on, let’s get him up, if you’re going. It’s now or not at all.” Engel disappeared for a beat or two, returning with his carapiece in place on his back.

Deen rubbed Frei‘s cheek; he opened his eyes. “What?”

“We’re taking a trip,” she said. “Get up.”

Shouting people and laden vehicles jammed the streets, pounded by the renewed and relentless beat of Corsang Run. Madhvi threaded her way through the crowd, leading the others, until they emerged from the press into a deep, dim recess with a closed door at the far end, its handle heavily rusted. She turned the handle and pulled the door open. The stench of heated sewage clung to their faces. “Come on, before the smell spreads and someone follows us.”

They passed the door. Madhvi closed it. The air hurt Marra‘s nose; her stomach came up in her throat.

What’s that? Aoriver awoke.

“It’s the sewers. The old shafts in the City. Ugh, what a way to die.” Marra muttered as Madhvi led Deen, then Marra, then Frei and Engel, down the spiral of a slick dark stair with no handrail and no bottom. A tiny light glowed far above them. Frei grumbled.

Interesting. A wide spectrum of biologicals, almost like your manure pit on the farm. But more concentrated. Can you breathe?

“Yes, but I wish I didn’t have to.”

If you’d like, I can reroute your air for you, and supply some biofilters in your—

“No, not now. I’d like to get used to one new body at a time, and its ways, for a little while.” Marra rubbed her stomach gently. Were these last few sensations just nausea, or were they cramps? She’d forgotten what cramps felt like.

“Do you always talk to yourself like that?” Frei‘s voice.

Why did he listen to what wasn’t his business? Marra snapped, “I like intelligent conversation.”