The Pieces of My Self

46 - Marsh Fish

ZEKE

Île Sauvage, 21 June 2174, Tuesday, Morning

Zeke found Debra on the front porch of the main building, her face lit by an amber sunrise filtering through the trees.

"Come on," he said, approaching her. "I'll show you where you'll sleep. Lillian and the children are already there. You need to get some rest and change out of that dress. It's not practical. Look at you—the welts on your arms and legs. The bugs are eating you alive, Debra. I've got some more insect repellant clothes that should fit you."

"Don't lecture me on fashion," she said. "You don't even shave anymore. You're a bum."

Yeah, but I'm a comfortable bum. "There's a fine line between stubborn and stupid. This is the Wild. Besides, that dress isn't ClearNet. The sensors will give us away."

"I thought you said we're off the grid. And masked. They wouldn't be able to see me without the network."

"If LESA or Border Patrol comes looking for us, you can bet they'll bring their own network, and they'll have enough power to punch through my jamming cloud."

She stared for a long moment, as if sizing up the argument. "I'll take my chances."

"You can take chances with your own life, but not with everyone else's."

"Maybe I'll do it to spite you, Zeke. You, and your 25 percent."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You just can't let that go, can you?"

She slapped at his hand and pulled away. "It's my money!"

"It's a dead man's money. Disloyalty money."

"What do you mean?"

"I found out about your arrangement with Mangalotte. You helped sell the public on the idea that Henri died at the hands of a white mob of anarchists. You claimed to be an eyewitness—his grieving, loving wife. In return for playing along, you got to keep the estate. But now you've got this little game where you're trying to double-deal LESA and get the rest of Henri's money. What would you do with it? Buy another mansion? Eat better food?"

"And you," she said, "you'd waste it all on drugs."

"You're half right. I import low-cost medicine for people who don't want to bend the knee to Mangalotte. You live in a bubble, so you probably don't know how it works. If they show loyalty, prices are low. If not, prices are high. It's a sliding scale based on a point system your late husband developed. It's hurting a lot of folks."

Her mouth puckered as if biting a lemon. "Are you suggesting you're like Robin Hood? Stealing from old widows to subsidize your disloyal Houma and Cajun friends? Give me a break."

"If you'd rather not stay here because you disapprove of my business, I can have a member of my crew take you back. They will get here later today. You'll have to figure out what kind of story you want to tell LESA, and hope they believe you."

She looked toward the water and the boat, then turned back to him and lifted her chin. "That won't be necessary. A deal's a deal."

"But you're going to bitch about it the whole time you're with me, right?"

She slapped his face. "I see why your wife and family left you, Zeke. And why, ten years ago, I kicked you out of my life." She walked toward the door. "I'm going back inside. This place is crawling with blood-sucking parasites."

Alone on the porch, he gathered his thoughts. Debra's reality was different from his, like the marsh fish that lived in their own world, only occasionally breaking the surface to glimpse the wider reality. She had been headstrong. Narcissistic. She believed she was invincible because of Henri's status. She thought she could get anything—or anyone—she wanted.

May you rot in hell.