The City Boxset

Chapter 4-1

Four

On the sunny street outside Viscosity, Grace took a deep breath.

Heron stepped up beside her and did the same. “Yes, there’s something suffocating about laboratories. They’re completely unnatural. My mother says science must be done out here.”

He gestured at the wide boulevard divided by the second-level transport above and the whizzing white CityRides below. A second-level transport, looking like a large silver disk, flew by in the direction of the hospital.

“She had no right to imply that you needed a new face. That was incredibly unprofessional. And incorrect. Your face is lovely.”

“She only wanted publicity for Viscosity.”

He seemed to consider this. “It was still horribly rude.”

His anger surprised her. They’d just met. There was no reason for him to feel defensive on her behalf.

Grace squinted up at him on the sidewalk. “Where did you do your training?”

“De la Hoya Academy.”

“Is Commander Huang still there in the barn?” This was a deliberate test because there was no Commander Huang, nor was there a barn—at least none that she’d seen in her four years inside what the recruits called the Castle, a ruthless training facility in Zone 23.

“Didn’t see a barn and never met a Commander Huang,” Heron said simply. “Loved Commander Zhou though. And Commanders Cross and Ramirez. Ramirez still has that tiny dog.”

“The Peekatease?” Grace asked, recognizing all the names he’d just regurgitated to her.

“It must be a hundred years old,” he exaggerated with a warm smile. “And blind in both eyes.”

It had been blind in one eye when Grace had been at the Castle years ago. She was older than Heron. In fact, he was closer to Davion’s age than her own.

If he had done his training properly and at one of the best facilities in the country, then why did he unsettle her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by his beeping ring. He turned it over to review the scrolling inscription. This wasn’t the booster ring meant to amplify his PNS’s power. This one was made of a slightly darker metal. Grace tried to read the small inscription rolling along this glossy surface, but the glare from the sun made it impossible.

“The UV rating has gone up. Do you have a SunGuard?” he asked.

He meant the subcutaneous implant that had just hit the markets last summer. For a steep price, one could have automatic whole-body protection against excessive UV light and radiation.

Heron must’ve thought her far wealthier than she was. She could never indulge in the body mods that the younger generations seemed to favor now. Not without serious rebudgeting.

“No.” She pulled a pen from her pocket. She pointed the pen toward the ground, and it expanded, first doubling, then tripling in length. At last, a circle disc unfolded to its full size, revealing the sunbrella.

From beneath its shade, Grace saw that many people walked around unguarded. How much faster was the ring on Heron’s finger at detecting atmospheric shifts? Or was he wrong?

They’d managed half a block toward the nearest auto stop when she heard the familiar chirp, chirp, chirp of an Informed Citizen bulletin.

Everyone around her paused on the street at the same moment, preparing to have their lenscapes overrun by the zone’s network.

Dearest Citizens, please note that the UV rating for Zone 2 has risen from Orange-Elevated to Red-Risk. Please seek protection immediately. If you are seen without protection in any public area, you will be ticketed. Remember: Information is Liberation.

The bulletin dropped away until Grace saw only the sidewalk and the shine of her black shoes. The others around her resumed motion.

“Are you usually the first to know something?” Grace murmured, more to herself than to the inspector beside her.

“I should think that’s a wonderful asset for you,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. “Considering that I’m at your disposal.”

She caught the tone of disposal.

“That’s twice that you’ve seemed offended at the idea of being my assistant. This isn’t servitude, Inspector. If you don’t want the position—”

“No,” he said, too quickly. He pinched his eyes shut. “I want it. You’ll have to forgive my sense of humor, Commander.”

Grace didn’t believe for a moment that this was simply misunderstood humor. But she also didn’t have it in her to address compatibility issues today. She had been the one to ask for an assistant, and no matter who she’d received, she would have had to train them. He was as good as any. An assistant inspector was a perfect match for the smaller tasks she found tedious and exhausting.

I’ll figure the rest out later, she thought.

“How would you like to proceed with the investigation, Commander? Any idea where we might find twenty-six organs?” Heron’s reserve had returned.

She didn’t like his stiffness, but it was one more thing she’d have to let slide for now.

When I have more of myself to give, if I ever have more of myself to give, we’ll work on this.

“I want to visit the technician’s home,” she said, her eyes scanning the sidewalk ahead. A sea of people moved past, eyes down and lost to their internal lenscapes. Eyes glowed blue with the active light from their lenses. One man danced and bobbed to a rhythm only he could hear. “We don’t have a search and seizure, but I suspect that maybe we won’t need one.”

“Why?” Heron asked. Despite their difference in height, he was being careful to stay beside her as they walked.

“On the elevator ride down, I looked up his address and information. He has a woman living with him, and they have a pending marriage application.”

“A fiancée?” Heron asked with an air of gossip.

“Hopefully we’ll catch her at home.”

Another cacophony of beeps and chirps sounded, but Grace realized that it wasn’t another fancy gadget stowed away on Heron’s person. It was her calorie watch.

They both lifted and turned their calorie watches at the same moment. Hers was half torn at the strap. Its face was scratched from where her body, blown by the blast, had skidded along the concrete. It was no surprise to her that his was the latest model.

He smiled. “Lunch first?”

They chose a fusion bistro three blocks from Ravee’s apartment. Grace slid into the cool booth, and Heron mirrored her. They tapped their watches against the sensor plate affixed to the wall and waited for checkmark confirmation that all of their food preferences, allergies, tastes, and caloric needs were recorded.

Then the embedded menu in the tabletop lit up, and the screen before them changed, showing a variety of dishes the restaurant offered that would satisfy those needs and preferences.

Grace selected a dumpling soup first, and the menu suggested she add the leaf-wrapped veggies in order to better fulfill her fiber needs. She acquiesced.

Heron selected a cheeseburger and fried green tomatoes on the side. Then the menus disappeared and they were left to each other.

“Do you know that meat used to come from animals?” he said companionably, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “There were huge farms with thousands of acres where the animals were crammed in. So much land and water waste. It was horrible for the environment. Not to mention the slaughter—so not too good for the animals either. This was before the Land Conservation Act of 2380, of course.”

Grace couldn’t imagine a world where land, so costly and precious now, would be so poorly managed. She supposed it helped that they had less than ten billion people living on the planet then, compared to the 32.3 billion they had now. Not to mention they had had thousands more acres of usable land, having been yet untouched by rising seas and storm surges.

Heron was still talking. “I don’t know how they ate it. Natural meat is absolutely filthy. Blood, s**t, bacteria. Give me sterile lab-grown meat any day.”

“You’re full of information,” Grace said, silently pulling up the photo she’d captured in the lab and surveying the faces again. She paid less attention to Ravee this time and more to the other Viscosity workers.

“Yes, well, my mother was a history professor. If you didn’t hear forty historical facts at the dinner table, then you knew she was feeling rather morose that day. She was prone to it. Morosity. And spouting historical facts.”

“I didn’t know that Dr. Jane taught history.”

“Oh, she didn’t. I’m talking about Nora. Dr. Nora Avignon. I have two mothers.”

Grace couldn’t really focus on what he was saying. Her eye kept snagging on the photo hanging in her lenscape. She counted again.

“You have a look of consternation on your face, Commander. Can I ask what you’re looking at?”

“There are sixty people in this photo.”

“What photo?”

“I captured the photo from lab fourteen. Dr. Cyrah said fifty-eight people worked in the lab, but there are sixty people in this photo.”

“I’ve received the list of all the lab workers we requested.”

Her mailbox pinged. “Me too. Can you pair the faces with the names to see who’s on the list? I want to know who these two mystery people are.”

“Yes, yes,” he said, and for the first time all day, since she’d seen him flirting with the receptionist in the lobby of Viscosity Inc., he seemed truly engaged in the task at hand. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Do you mind if I—”

“Go ahead,” she said. She’d appreciate a moment to think to herself.

He sank into silence, his eyes slightly turned away from hers, using his lenscape to run the program as she asked. His eyes lit blue.

Grace took the chance to scan the restaurant. She noticed the people, bodies relaxed, and their soft conversations. Beyond that, the crowd walked back and forth past the bright window, sunbrellas up.

This wasn’t so bad because she had never eaten in this restaurant with Davion or Kaiden. There were no memories here to rise up suddenly and squeeze her heart like a fist.

She could experience the place with her melancholy and her loss, but also without the loving grief suffocating her.

I’ll have to abandon all our old haunts, she thought. At least for a while.

The Thai place in Low Town.

Pizza Palace on Forty-Second.

Kaiden’s favorite creamery two blocks from their neighborhood.

A memory surfaced of Kaiden rushing ahead on his hoverskates as she trailed behind, her hand in Davion’s. He was prattling on about something, but she didn’t remember what it was. Work maybe. She’d been distracted by an identity theft case, someone trying to forge visas. Davion had been trying to take her mind off of it.

At least she would still have her favorite restaurant, Sindu Serves. She’d eaten there mostly alone during the workday, and neither Davion nor Kaiden liked spicy food.

But there was something about this restaurant that unsettled her. She glanced around, wondering.

It was all the smiling.

No, it was also the calm.

That’s how it had been at the precinct that night. A lot of smiling. A blanket of calm.

Before the IED exploded and tore her life apart.

The winter parade had sent a storm of red and green streamers through the air. Sparks of light danced past the precinct’s pavilion. Grace had stood there with Davion’s arm draped around her shoulder and Kaiden leaning his weight against her front as the dancers weaved in and out of the marching band.

The holographic circus was next. From where she stood, she saw the sparkling elephants and dolphins coming up the street.

The music, the cheers engulfed them. The smell of roasting nuts soaked in cinnamon and syrup hung in the air. Davion led Kaiden over to the street vendor and bought him a paper cone of them, slick with oil.

That’s when Grace’s lenscape had flared.

That’s when she turned toward the precinct and saw the red X tapping out its warning, consuming her vision with its urgency. She’d run toward the entrance, toward the danger and—

A cork on a bottle of champagne popped, and Grace jumped, her knee hitting the underside of the table.

Heron looked up. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” She was saved from explaining because the wall slot at the end of the table opened, and their orders slid onto the table.

Grace lifted her spoon, a slight tremor in her hand. She reached for her lettuce wraps, peeling back the bamboo paper encasing them.