Erich, sitting at the rented deck with a newsfeed spooling past, felt the distance between himself and the others who shared his space more keenly than they did. His sense of dread, of a chapter of his own life ending, was unnoticed by the heavyset woman who brewed the coffee and the thin man at the edge of the rooftop who spent his hours sending messages about tangled romantic involvements. To the other habitus of the coffee shop, Erich was just the crippled man who was hogging the deck. An annoyance and an amusement, and no one would particularly notice or care if he vanished from the world.
Timmy arrived just after midnight, his broad, amiable smile softening the distance in his eyes. To anyone who didnt look at him closely, he seemed unthreatening, and no one looked at him closely. He pulled a welded steel chair up to the bolted-down deck and sat at Erichs side. The newsfeed was set to local. A pale-skinned woman with the Outer Planets Association split circle tattooed on her sternum and Loca Griega teardrops on her cheeks had blood pouring from her nose and left eye while she struggled against two Star Helix enforcers in gear so thick they barely seemed human. Erich smiled, trying to hide the relief he felt at Timmys return.
Loca, Erich said, nodding at the feed. Theyre having a bad night too.
Lot of that going around, Timmy said.
Yeah, right? You heard from Burton?
No. Didnt try to find him yet either, Timmy said with a shrug. You want to hang out here some more, or you about ready to go?
I dont know where to go, Erich said, a high violin whine coming in at the back of his voice.
I got that covered, Timmy said.
You got a bolt-hole? Jesus, thats where youve been all this time, isnt it? Getting someplace safe to hide?
Kind of. But, you know, you ready?
I need to stop someplace. Get a deck.
Timmy frowned and nodded at the table before them. Theres one right there was in his eyes. Erich pointed at the bolts anchoring the machine to the wooden tabletop. Timmys expression went empty and he stood up.
Hey, Erich said. Whatre you Timmy? What are you
The thick woman who brewed the coffee looked up at the broad-shouldered young man. The coffee bar had been hers for three years, and shed seen enough of the regulars to recognize trouble.
Hey, the large manboy, reallysaid, his voice making the word half apology. So look. I dont mean to be a dick or anything, but I kind of need that deck.
You can use it here, you buy some coffee. Or rates are printed on the side, the woman said, crossing her arms.
The big kid nodded, his brow knotting. He took a scuffed and stained black-market credit chip and pressed it into her palm.
Shit, Jones, she said, blinking at the credit balance on the tiny LED display. How much coffee you want?
The kid had already turned back to the table where the cripple with the baby arm had been sitting all day. He hit the table with his fist hard enough that everyone on the rooftop turned to look at him. After the third hit, the wood of the tabletop started to splinter. There was blood on the big boys knuckles, and the cripple was shifting back and forth anxiously as the table fell to sticks and splinters. The boy pulled her little deck free with a creaking sound. The bolts still hung from it, the wood torn out from around them. Blood dripped from his hands as he tucked the machine under his arm and nodded to the cripple.
Anything else you need? Timmy asked.
Erich had to fight not to smile. No, I think Im good now.
All right then. We should go. Timmy turned to the woman and lifted his swelling hand to her in a wave. Thanks.
She didnt say anything, but pushed the credit stick into her apron and waddled back to get a broom. They were gone before she returned, walking down the stairway to the street.
That was incredible, Erich said. The way you did that? I mean, damn it. Everyone in there was cold as stone, and you were just madness and power, man. Did you see that? Did you see how gassed they were at you?
You said you needed the deck, Timmy said.
Come on! That was critical. You can brag about it some.
Tables dont fight back, Timmy said. Come on. I got a boat.
Erichs relief left him chatty, but he didnt talk about the fear hed felt when Timmy had left him. Instead, he filled the trip with everything hed seen on the feeds, and he told it all like he was telling ghost stories. The security forces were watching the ports, the trains, the transports up to the orbitals and Luna. Eighteen dead today, maybe three times that many in custody. It was news all over the world, and farther. There had even been a lady from Mars whod come on for a while talking about the history of Earth-based police states. Wasnt that cool? All the way to Mars, they were talking about what was going on right then in Baltimore. They were everywhere.
Timmy listened, adding in a few words here and there, but mostly he walked until they reached the water, and then he rowed. The ceramic oars dipped into the dark water and lifted out again. Erich drummed his fingertips against the stolen deck, anxious to reconnect it to the network, so see what was happening and what had changed in the time since theyd left the coffee bar. That being connected would somehow protect him was an illusion, and Erich half knew that. But only half.
At the little island, Timmy pulled the boat onto shore and marched into the ruins where a light was burning. An old woman was sitting beside a chemical stove, stirring a small tin pot. The smell of brewing tea competed with the brine and the reek of decaying jellyfish. She looked up. Her face was like a mask, the makeup applied so perfectly it shoved her back into the uncanny valley.
I found your tea, she said. I hope you dont mind.
Nope, Timmy said, not breaking stride. Come on, Erich. Ill get you set up.
They walked through a doorway without a door and into a small room. It was even less comfortable than the one with the old lady. There was nothing on the floor but the glue marks where there had once been carpeting. Mold grew up along one wall, black and branching like tree limbs. Timmy put the deck on the ground. His knuckles were black with blood and forming scab.
You be able to get signal here? Timmy asked.
Should be. May need to find a way to power up in the morning.
Yeah, well. Well come up with something. So this is your room, okay? Yours. That ones hers, Timmy said, pointing a thumb at the lighted doorway. Hers. She asks you in, you can go in, but she asks you to leave, you do it, right?
Of course. Sure. Christ, Timmy. Your place, your rules, right? Erich smiled, hoping to coax one in response. Weve always respected each other, right? Only, seriously, who is she? Is that your mom?
It was like Timmy hadnt heard him. Im gonna get some sleep, but come morning, I can go back in, get some food. And Ill check in with the man.
Erich felt his belly go cold. Youre going to talk to Burton?
Sure, if I can find him, Timmy said. Hes got the plan, right?
Right, Erich said. Of course.
He opened the deck, ran it through its startup options, and connected to the network. The signal strength wasnt great, but it wasnt awful. hed been in half a dozen basement hack shacks with worse. He opened the newsfeed, still set to passive. The glow from the screen was the only light. Erich was cold, but he didnt complain. Timmy stood, stretched, considered the skinned knuckles of his hand with what could have been a distant sort of ruefulness, and turned to go back to the old woman and the light.