did not want
to be here when that happened; for a moment his brain flashed on that
idea, of he and Nikita as wizened little eldos, still here, still
fighting, but too old to go anywhere else.
He forced the thought away with a shudder and did the three-click finger
snap that made the television switch on. Ko paged through the channels
with the sound on mute, passing the multiple ZeeBeeCee feeds, Panda
Vision and NBO. Most of the stations were carrying clips from the new
Juno Qwan album and Ko chewed his lip. The singer had a weird
attract-repel quality to her, with the way she would yo-yo between
hi-fashion pop diva one day to gothic lolita the next. Ko would never
admit it, but he actually liked some of her stuff. She did this song—it
was a b-side, maybe?—called “Doppler Highway” that had just the right
kind of lonely in it, conjuring up the same melancholy freedom that Ko
got from a night ride through the hills. He hesitated, watching the
silent vid. Juno was wrapped in a holodress, the outfit morphing and
changing as she walked along a sun-dappled beach, planes of light
shifting to reveal just enough flesh that you knew she was naked
underneath. She moved over sand raked into geometric shapes and
water-smoothed stones. There were trains of letters and numbers on her
clothes, moving and warping. Cool, perfect blue waves lapped at her bare
feet and overhead was a cloudless cerulean sky. Juno’s smile was relaxed
and calm, but her eyes were a little sad, as if she felt sorry that you
were not there on that idyllic beach with her.
“I’m the perfect smile. Touch my thoughts and flow, there’s no world we
can’t know.” Nikita walked into the room, singing along with the silent
starlet. “I love her stuff. She’s so deep. Didn’t think she was your
type.”
“She’s not,” Ko changed the channel and found a weather report.
Nikita made a face and gathered her jacket off the threadbare sofa where
she had deposited it the night before. She produced a fold of crisp yuan
and held it out to him. “Rent money,” she explained. “There’s extra in
there, too.”
Ko made no move to take it. “Where’d you get that?”
She blew out a breath. “I don’t want to do this, Ko. Just take the damn
cash.”
He wanted to; part of him really wanted to say no more and let it go.
But that wasn’t how it was going to play out. Before he was even fully
aware of what he was doing, Ko’s mouth was running away and they were
sliding straight back into the same patterns they had followed since
they were children. “Let me guess, you were exceptionally good at
selling drinks in the Dot? Or perhaps you gave that bald loser a
blowjob—”
The slap came from nowhere and stung him with its ferocity; but the
anger in the swipe wasn’t reflected in his sister’s eyes. All he saw
there was fatigue. “You don’t have the right to lecture me on what I do,
Ko. You’re a thief, little brother, and you’re not a very good one at
that. If you grow the hell up, you might just understand enough to have
an opinion, but until then, shut up and
pay the rent!
”
He pointed at his chest. “Thief? What does that make you, Niki? You want
me to say it?”
“Don’t you dare…”
“You want me to call you what you are?” His voice was rising, and so was
the fury, coming on hot and strong. “I’m not the one behaving like a
child! Which of us is the one living in a fairy tale, sis? Who is the
one looking for a prince charming in a laser-cut suit?” He waved a hand
in front of her face. “I live in the real world, not the stupid plastic
dreamland those corp bastards do!”
“Wake up!” Nikita snapped. “Look around, Ko, the corps
are
the real
world! They
run
the real world! You’re not part of that machine, you
get hammered down!”
“I’d rather be poor and free than in their pockets!” he replied.
“And it shows! Look at you! You watch those stupid movies and you play
like you’re some hustler ronin, but
to be here when that happened; for a moment his brain flashed on that
idea, of he and Nikita as wizened little eldos, still here, still
fighting, but too old to go anywhere else.
He forced the thought away with a shudder and did the three-click finger
snap that made the television switch on. Ko paged through the channels
with the sound on mute, passing the multiple ZeeBeeCee feeds, Panda
Vision and NBO. Most of the stations were carrying clips from the new
Juno Qwan album and Ko chewed his lip. The singer had a weird
attract-repel quality to her, with the way she would yo-yo between
hi-fashion pop diva one day to gothic lolita the next. Ko would never
admit it, but he actually liked some of her stuff. She did this song—it
was a b-side, maybe?—called “Doppler Highway” that had just the right
kind of lonely in it, conjuring up the same melancholy freedom that Ko
got from a night ride through the hills. He hesitated, watching the
silent vid. Juno was wrapped in a holodress, the outfit morphing and
changing as she walked along a sun-dappled beach, planes of light
shifting to reveal just enough flesh that you knew she was naked
underneath. She moved over sand raked into geometric shapes and
water-smoothed stones. There were trains of letters and numbers on her
clothes, moving and warping. Cool, perfect blue waves lapped at her bare
feet and overhead was a cloudless cerulean sky. Juno’s smile was relaxed
and calm, but her eyes were a little sad, as if she felt sorry that you
were not there on that idyllic beach with her.
“I’m the perfect smile. Touch my thoughts and flow, there’s no world we
can’t know.” Nikita walked into the room, singing along with the silent
starlet. “I love her stuff. She’s so deep. Didn’t think she was your
type.”
“She’s not,” Ko changed the channel and found a weather report.
Nikita made a face and gathered her jacket off the threadbare sofa where
she had deposited it the night before. She produced a fold of crisp yuan
and held it out to him. “Rent money,” she explained. “There’s extra in
there, too.”
Ko made no move to take it. “Where’d you get that?”
She blew out a breath. “I don’t want to do this, Ko. Just take the damn
cash.”
He wanted to; part of him really wanted to say no more and let it go.
But that wasn’t how it was going to play out. Before he was even fully
aware of what he was doing, Ko’s mouth was running away and they were
sliding straight back into the same patterns they had followed since
they were children. “Let me guess, you were exceptionally good at
selling drinks in the Dot? Or perhaps you gave that bald loser a
blowjob—”
The slap came from nowhere and stung him with its ferocity; but the
anger in the swipe wasn’t reflected in his sister’s eyes. All he saw
there was fatigue. “You don’t have the right to lecture me on what I do,
Ko. You’re a thief, little brother, and you’re not a very good one at
that. If you grow the hell up, you might just understand enough to have
an opinion, but until then, shut up and
pay the rent!
”
He pointed at his chest. “Thief? What does that make you, Niki? You want
me to say it?”
“Don’t you dare…”
“You want me to call you what you are?” His voice was rising, and so was
the fury, coming on hot and strong. “I’m not the one behaving like a
child! Which of us is the one living in a fairy tale, sis? Who is the
one looking for a prince charming in a laser-cut suit?” He waved a hand
in front of her face. “I live in the real world, not the stupid plastic
dreamland those corp bastards do!”
“Wake up!” Nikita snapped. “Look around, Ko, the corps
are
the real
world! They
run
the real world! You’re not part of that machine, you
get hammered down!”
“I’d rather be poor and free than in their pockets!” he replied.
“And it shows! Look at you! You watch those stupid movies and you play
like you’re some hustler ronin, but
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