Partials series 1-3

Time for a party.

There were no births on Friday, and no fevered babies to monitor, so Kira came home exhausted but ready to enjoy herself without feeling guilty. She bathed, brushed out her hair, and chose a bright-colored outfit from her “flirty” section: a silk shirt with Chinese embroidery, a pair of high-heeled sandals, and a pair of jeans just short enough that she paused to worry about the weather. It was summer, but a cold one, and another rainstorm could really make her wish she’d gone with something heavier. She mulled over the decision, comparing the jeans with a longer pair, and finally decided to go with the shorts. They looked better with the shirt, and better on her, and she needed the boost. She could risk cold legs to feel like a normal person again for a while. They probably wouldn’t go outside anyway.

“Hurry up,” said Xochi, rapping on Kira’s bedroom door. She was dressed in all black, including lipstick and eyeliner, with an incongruously colorful apron tied around her waist. “Madison and Haru are already here, and some dude named Marcus—tall, goofy-looking, easy to push around. You’d like him.”

“I can see why your royal parents got rid of you,” said Kira with a playful sneer. “You can be a delightfully snotty person when you put your mind to it.”

“My wit is like your legs,” said Xochi. “It would be selfish of me to keep it hidden.” Kira followed her to the kitchen and waved to Nandita, busily washing dishes in the sink. Xochi pulled a bowl of sliced potatoes from the counter, drizzled them with olive oil, and sprinkled Nandita’s rosemary liberally over the top, stirring the concoction with her hands. “Nandita, these herbs smell great.”

“Thank you, scary one,” said Nandita. It was their private joke: Nandita’s entire wardrobe was brightly colored saris, and she simply couldn’t understand Xochi’s preference for black.

“Your kitchen smells great,” said Kira, taking a deep whiff, “but I’m going to tear myself away and find Marcus.”

“Give him a kiss for me,” said Xochi.

“Tongue?”

“Not too much. I don’t want to seem easy.”

Kira walked down the hall, breathing deeply as another wave of mouthwatering smells washed over her. Say what you will about Xochi’s mom, she taught that girl how to cook.

The hall was lit with gasoline lamps, all hooded and filtered to catch the smell. Kira could hear the hum of voices from the living room, and the hiss and crackle of fire from the wood-burning stove in the kitchen. This is what the farmers eat like all the time, she thought. Almost makes me want to try the life.

Almost.

She followed the voices to the living room. Marcus and Haru were deep in discussion on the couch, while Madison reclined nearby on an easy chair. The stereo was in this room, and the sound filled the room like a storm cloud.

Madison smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey, Mads. What’s up?”

Madison smirked and darted her eyes toward Marcus and Haru. “Just relaxing while your noble boyfriend takes the brunt of my husband’s righteous fury. He’s really on one today.”

Kira nodded. Haru was an intense talker.

“Of course it’s about freedom,” Haru was saying, “it’s about preserving freedom through law.” His eyes were fierce, and Marcus looked pale but determined under his glare. “Any society needs a certain amount of law: Too much gives you tyranny, but too little gives you chaos.”

“Kira!” said Marcus, practically leaping out of his chair when he saw her. He crossed and gave her a hug, coming away with her hand clasped tightly in his own. He looked her up and down, pointedly not looking at Haru. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” said Kira. She led him to a couch and sat down, looking across at Haru. “Hey, good to see you.” She really didn’t want him to start up again on whatever he was ranting about, but she couldn’t just refuse to acknowledge him.

“You as well,” said Haru. “I’m glad to hear you both survived your adventure on the shore.”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard?”

“Everybody’s heard,” said Madison. “I suppose we all have more exciting things to talk about than a mysterious radio installation rigged with a massive bomb that killed three people, but you know how it is. Sometimes we talk about boring stuff, too.”

“It was the Voice,” said Haru. “That woman who was with you, Gianna or whatever, was one of them.”

Kira laughed. “What? She was in the middle of it—I pulled her out of the rubble myself. Or are you saying she blew herself up? On purpose? Or is she just a really lousy terrorist?”

“Maybe she was trying to protect whatever was there from being found,” said Haru.

“She never came back,” said Marcus softly.

Kira looked at him in surprise, then at Haru. She shook her head. “She came back with us.”

“To the Dogwood station,” said Marcus, nodding. Kira could see the sadness in his eyes—sadness mixed with confusion, and a hint of fear. “No one’s seen her after that.”

Kira shook her head; this was crazy. “Gianna was not a Voice. She didn’t like Jayden very much, but he was throwing his weight around a little more than necessary—nobody would have liked him much.” She glanced at Madison. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“She’s the one who identified that thing as a radio,” said Haru, “and the only person who could argue with her died in the explosion. For all we know, the other guy figured out that it was an active Voice base of operations and this Gianna woman triggered the bomb to shut him up. She’s the only one who lived.”

Kira laughed out loud, then felt guilty and tried to stifle it. “I’m sorry, but that’s . . . incredibly paranoid. You’re almost as bad as the guy who debriefed us the other day.”

“Paranoid or not,” said Haru, “obviously the Defense Grid agrees or they wouldn’t have kept her in custody.”

Xochi stepped into the room and leaned against the doorway. “You’re talking about that computer scientist from the salvage run?”

Kira threw up her hands, eyes wide. “Does everyone know about this but me?”

“You spend fifteen hours a day in the hospital,” said Madison. “The Voice could kidnap the Senate and you wouldn’t know about it.”

“The Defense Grid shouldn’t be able to hold people like that,” said Xochi. “They should have public arrests and public trials, not people who disappear for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” said Haru. “She’s a terrorist. That’s a pretty good reason.”

“You don’t know that she’s a terrorist,” said Xochi, “or have you been rehired into the Defense Grid with top-level clearance and just forgot to tell us about it?”

Haru glared at her. “Do you have a problem with the Defense Grid doing their job?”

“I have a problem with ‘making people disappear’ suddenly being a part of their job. When did that happen?”

“Their job is to protect us, and they do it the way they think is best. If you don’t trust them, why are you still here?”

“Maybe I believe in solving problems instead of running away from them.”

“Maybe?”

This is getting too heated, thought Kira, but just as she was about to step in and stop the argument, Marcus spoke up and did it for her.

“I think that’s enough on this topic,” he said. “Everybody just calm down.” He looked at Xochi. “Is there anything I can do to help with the food?”

“We’re just about done,” said Xochi, casting a last, withering look at Haru. “You can help me bring it in.”

They walked back down the hall, and Kira took a slow breath. She wanted to blame Haru for the fight—and he was certainly a big part of why the argument had become a fight in the first place—but she knew it wasn’t all his fault. Tensions were high all through East Meadow, probably all across the island, and everyone was on edge. Had Gianna really been part of the Voice? Had the government really just made her disappear?