Page 55 of The Fall

And Talia wasn’t here. The illogical desire to have something with Kerr wouldn’t be shoved back into place. No amount of reasoning or rationalising made the feeling disappear. Lusa didn’t know how long she could hold onto it before it came out again. She had never had to for this long.

“Over here.” Kerr pointed to an abandoned subway station.

Lusa parked the bike.

“The station’s the closest access hatch to Chalice’s office.” Kerr lifted the helmet off her head.

Lusa turned away before her heart could flutter at the marks the helmet left on her cheeks. “You have offices?”

“They built all sorts of things down here when they ran the conduits, yeah? They couldn’t very well pop above ground every time they needed to talk about blueprints or whatnot, could they?

“I guess I’d never thought about it,” Lusa admitted.

Ignoring the comment, Kerr bounded off down the steps. It became immediately apparent why the subway station had been abandoned – it should never have been built in the first place. Whatever drainage had been planned had been wholly inadequate for dealing with melted permafrost and the subsequent freeze-thaw cycles. Wall tiles littered the corners, having popped off buckling concrete walls. Even the graffiti was sparse. Only the most desperately houseless would notice the appalling state of the building and decide to use it anyway. Which, Lusa supposed, described the Chargers. At least, how the Chargers used to be.

Kerr hopped over the turnstile, likely rusted in place before she had been born. Lusa had more difficulty. There were advantages to being small.

Rubbish blew in with the snow, but Kerr seemed to take no notice. Instead, she crouched near what Lusa assumed to be a snow drift until it turned to face her. By the time Lusa reached hearing distance, Kerr had already helped the man to his feet. Or one foot. The capacitors in his prosthetic leg had lost power.

“Just inside this door is a place you can tap to charge it. Then ask for Beezer. Tell him Kerr sent you.” She helped the man hobble into the access hatch.

Lusa couldn’t watch this. She couldn’t allow herself to see Kerr’s kindness on display. That would weaken her resolve to keep her feelings isolated and compartmentalised. She needed to find and draw from her well of cynicism that anesthetised her heart and kept it protected. “One of yours?”

“No.” Kerr arched an eyebrow. “Though he might be if he recovers.”

The frisson that travelled along her nerves wasn’t the drug she’d hoped for.

Thankfully, Kerr didn’t notice. “We’re the rejects, Lusa. The Chargers only exist because we survive together, no matter what condition we were in when the corps decided they were finished with us, yeah?”

“You never worked for a corp, though, did you?”

“No, I haven’t.” Kerr clipped her words. “Most of them were gone or on their way out by the time I was born.” She leaned against the filth covered wall. Several more tiles fell, the high-pitched shattering of ceramic echoing around the empty train station. “You can think I’m a spoiled rich kid all you want, but it’s not like I chose to be born here.”

Lusa stared for a moment, trying to figure out how anything Kerr had just said made sense or what it had to do with what she was asking. “What?”

“Sorry,” Kerr mumbled, shoulders softening into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Lusa said. “I think. I didn’t mean to imply…” she gestured impotently. “Whatever I implied.”

“It’s okay.” Kerr straightened a bit. “I’m being oversensitive. Chalice used to act like a dick about it, yeah?”

There was no reason for Lusa to care, but now she wanted to know. Curiosity, she told herself. Not because you care about her. “You can tell me. If you want.” Sure, that sounds like curiosity, Lusa scolded herself, but it was too late. The words had already escaped.

Kerr didn’t seem to mind Lusa’s sudden burst of compassion. “After a while, Chalice stopped apologising for cheating on me and blamed it on her Chem addiction – told me I didn’t know what it was like.” She inhaled sharply. “And it’s true, I don’t.”

“She didn’t seem addicted to anything.” Lusa wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say, but now it was there.

“She’s not.” Kerr sucked her teeth. “She was never addicted. She lied about that too. I suspected as much, but I was too afraid to call her out, yeah?” Her head tucked into her chest. “I thought I’d look like an arsehole if I was wrong.”

Lusa had the urge to scoop Kerr into her arms. To tell her everything would be okay. But it wasn’t her place. She wasn’t anyone to Kerr. Attraction, lust, sex, it didn’t mean anything. She balled her fists. “Sounds like her and Pinga are a match made in heaven.”

“We should probably get them before they kill each other.” Grinning, Kerr started down the tunnels.

Lusa walked cautiously toward a patch of lighter-coloured darkness. Her monocle did not have the same light compensating capabilities as Kerr’s Opti. “How do you see down here without tech?”

“We don’t. Everyone has Optis,” Kerr explained. “But we also have to memorise the tunnels before you get your scars.” She pointed to the two round red marks below her eye. “It’s part of the initiation.”

“Huh.” Lusa leaned in closer than she should, but it was hard to see. “I thought those were freckles. What happens if you don’t pass?”