Page 8

I n the interior’s cool gloom, Kez gets a hug from Tiancha.

I’m blinded in the transition between light and dark, so I miss who initiated the hug, but I have a feeling it was Tiancha. Kez isn’t usually all that huggy. Well, not with anyone but me. But if Kez feels any distaste at getting hugged by the rat-girl, she doesn’t show it.

Once they break apart, Kez shakes her wrist and cool blue light spills from it. My kitten can’t see in the dark, and she doesn’t like to be at a disadvantage. She used to wear light-beads in her dreadlocks. After she sacrificed her hair for me, she modified her viewie so it throws this soft light.

Kez’s light illuminates a bare warehouse. Couple of cartons and an overturned table. Nothing that gives away the warehouse’s real function as the entrance to the Deep Whites’ domain. Only the extra-wide stairs, leading down into darkness, hint at what’s below.

Tiancha turns down the stairs in a swirl of the gossamer poncho that Kez gave her as a gift the last time we got together.

Kez has taught me the importance of gift-giving to the underground clans of Kuseros, and I’m interested to see what she’s brought them this time.

And what they have for us. The cigars that Acker brought last time were fucking gorgeous.

A mellow, rich smoke. Probably took five years off my life and dumped the fuck knows what into my lungs, but I’d smoke a dozen of them again in a heartbeat.

Tiancha patters down the stairs, sure-footed on her clawed, bare feet.

I check for a handrail, which there is, before offering Kez my hand.

When she takes it, I sweep her up into my arms and carry her down the stairs.

Sure, I could just help her down the stairs.

But that ain’t my style. And it’s not like having my kitten, pliant and warm, in my arms is any kind of hardship.

The walls flicker as we descend. No longer white-washed permacrete; they’re covered with holoart.

Each image swims up out of the darkness and fades back to black as we move down the steps.

A sunset only slightly less brilliant than the one we just watched.

A stand of native salevas trees waving in a balmy breeze.

I feel the warmth of the breeze tickle my face.

Hear the patter of rain as the next image rises into view: a rain-washed cityscape at night, each window a tiny, winking diamond.

“That’s somethin’,” I remark to Kez.

“CJ’s work,” she says. She’s told me about CJ before. A techno-artist, she made Kez’s viewie. She was also part of the Kuus Pack. Kez suspects that CJ and the Pack leader, Nacht, have been murdered in a recent coup. It’s one of the many things I want to talk about with Acker tonight.

The rat-man himself is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.

He’s standing next to an open airlock hatch, through which I can hear a faint, rhythmic thumping.

The ceramsteel door is nearly as thick as he is wide, and he leans against it with his hugely muscled, black-furred arms crossed over his barrel chest. Acker’s fairly paranoid, so it doesn’t surprise me he’s got a fucking bunker.

He nods to me. When I reach the bottom of the stairs and let Kez slide down my body to stand on her own feet, he extends his paw.

His black claws are half as long as my fingers, but he’s careful about keeping them to himself, so I shake without reservation.

He bows to Kez. She surprises me by dipping into a perfect curtsey.

I’ve never seen her do that before. We’ll definitely be incorporating that into our five days of play on Yrillo.

I notice that Acker doesn’t try to touch Kez, no more than Tiancha touched me.

Thinking back, I can’t remember having any physical contact with Tiancha.

When she and Acker came to my place for dinner, Kez sat between us.

When they said goodbye, Acker shook my hand; Tiancha didn’t touch either of us.

Is it a gender thing? Or maybe Tiancha’s just picky about who she touches.

“Good to see you,” I say to Acker.

His black-furred muzzle splits to show sharp, white teeth.

“Good to be seen. You look better.” Last time he saw me was a week ago at my place, when I was still recovering from an infection I got from pulling a throwing knife out of my forearm a little too enthusiastically.

When I nod in acknowledgement, Acker continues, “I didn’t expect to be seen again quite so soon. ”

I shrug. I like Acker, so I wouldn’t mind seeing him weekly. If he takes me up on my offer, I’ll probably be talking to him daily. “Shit’s happening. We need to talk somewhere unfriendly ears ain’t listenin’.”

Acker nods. “I assumed that was the case. We’ll eat in private.” He turns his head slightly to catch Kez’s eye. “Lightfoot, a word of warning. Domni Fox is here. He is a friend of the Whites, no matter what lies between you.”

Kez grimaces. “I don’t suppose Packer is with him?”

“No.”

“Great.” Kez shrugs. “I’m not here to pick a fight. I’ll behave if he does.”

“Very well.” Acker flares his claws through the open airlock. “Welcome to the Deeps.”

Tiancha scurries through the airlock and Kez follows her, careful on the heels. Acker lays a claw on my arm before I step through.

“We have spoken before about the measure of a man,” he says, his voice pitched low so the girls won’t overhear him .

I nod. Acker and I agree on a lot of things, particularly how a man should take care of his woman. Or women, in Acker’s case.

“I will not stop you from protecting her,” he continues. “But if you kill Dom Fox while he is in my tunnels, the Deeps will close to you.”

I pat him on his furry shoulder. “I can take care of Kez without killin’ anyone.”

I might have to maim a little, but only if Kez gives me the nod. She knows the underground gangs of Kuseros like no one else. I follow her lead when we’re dealing with them, even Acker, who I probably understand better than she does.

Acker nods and waives me through the airlock. When I step through, he follows and closes the airlock behind us. I wait for him to seal up his bunker, then walk with him down a wide, tiled corridor towards the source of the thumping beat.

On the other side of an airlock, there’s a party in full swing.

Kez is grinning hugely; she holds out her hand as we draw near. “It’s Flaming Pink Flamingos!” she shouts over the noise.

Assuming she means the live three-man band I can see just through the airlock, all sporting crests of bright pink hair, I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, you’re going to love this.” She tugs on my hand.

I frown at her. She always says that before she drags me into something she knows I’ll object to on a Y-chromo basis. If she thinks I’m dancing to Flaming Pink Flamingos in front of Acker and his rat-pack, she’s out of her fuzzy head.

I let her drag me into a cavernous room that, as I look around, I realize actually is a cavern.

The high ceiling is lit by strobing red, blue and purple lights.

The lights illuminate sheets and shelves of iron-grey rock.

Slide down long fingers of cyanide yellow stalactites.

Catch on the crystal pincushion shells of natroline crabs as they scrabble across the walls to cluster in shadowed crevices, their eyestalks fluorescing.

The lights flicker over a huge opening in the center of the sandy floor: an illuminated pool.

There are a dozen or so people in the pool, their bodies black against the blue-lit water.

But most of the hundred plus crowd are on the cavern’s floor, dancing barefoot in the sand, skirting the dancers to mingle in animated clumps, resting on the embroidered couches and cushions that soften the cave’s hard corners.

It’s a mixed crowd from what I can see. Plenty of normals amongst the Mods.

Plenty of non-rats, too. We won’t stand out.

I tug on Kez’s hand to stop her from dragging me into the middle of the chaos while I take it all in. Glance down at her face to see what she makes of this Aladdin’s Cave. She’s grinning up at me. “You knew?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says, raising her voice over the roar of music, movement and conversation. “The Deeps are famous.”

I can see why. I can also see why Acker has so many challengers knocking on his heavily-fortified door. This is an extremely desirable bunker.

The band winds down whatever thumping, wailing song they’ve been playing on a long, held note. Launch into a new one with an acoustic three-note riff and growling vocals. Kez bounces on her toes and yanks on my arm. “C’mon! This is Fast Shame. It’s their best!”

With a glance at Acker, who is standing near the airlock, whiskers and shoulders quivering as he watches Kez drag me onto the dance floor, I surrender. I unshoulder Kez’s backpack and toss it to him. If he’s going have a laugh at my expense, he can at least hold the bags.

Kez elbows her way into the sweating, clawed, furred, and scaled crowd, then turns in the tiny space she’s made and launches herself at me. She knows I’ll catch her. And that I’ll dance with her, if she coerces me. We dance together a lot, my kitten and me, and not just horizontally.

I catch her with one hand under her ass, the other spanning the middle of her back, so I can dip her backwards.

Then I reverse the arc and throw her up over my head.

Half the fun of dancing with Kez is throwing her around.

When she clasps her arms around my neck, I let her slide down my body, slow and controlled, and get to the other half of the fun: grinding with her.

Kez wiggles her hips, which is about all she can do given my grip.

I run my hand up her back, coax one arm over my head and fold my fingers over hers as a pivot to spin her in front of me.

She turns without any urging: she knows this maneuver.

I clasp my hand over her groin and pull her back tight against me.

She also knows bumping and grinding are the extent of my moves.

I press her hips to mine and work them around in tight circles.

Bend forward so I cover her slender body, then lean back so she’s stretched across my thighs and chest. She reaches up and puts her arms around my neck.

Writhes like we’re fucking. That gets the little monster’s attention. Nice.

We grind our way through the song, which has a strong, steady beat.

It’s a long song, over five minutes by the chrono in my eye, and I figure that’s enough for an appetizer.

When the song finally ends on another long, held note, which seems to be a Flaming Pink Flamingos’ closing trademark, I drag Kez away.

She pouts but doesn’t resist as I lead her back to where Acker and Tiancha are waiting.