Carminite Girl

Unity

When the doors shut behind her Columbia pressed herself up onto the palms of her hands, legs lying curled off to one side. A car was waiting in front of her, dark and severe, waiting to pull off into the blur of traffic. She scrambled to her feet, the door opened and she slipped inside, shutting it and bringing her knees up to her chest. "Starlight District," she called, but she needn't have bothered. The driver was already pulling away from the warehouse, watching the road, his eyes pale and empty. She watched him speculatively. She knew the driver, she thought. He'd been taken to the garden.

The car quickly pulled onto the main highway and picked up to its top speed. Columbia cracked the window beside her, and the roar of wind filled the cabin, whipping up her hair and making her squint her eyes. She pinched the little patch between two nails and peeled it off, flicking it out the window. Then she scraped at her inner elbow again and removed the layer of fake silicon skin, baring her smooth, unmarred skin beneath. She tossed the fake skin out after the patch, then shut the window and leaned back in the seat, heaving out a sigh.

Her mother was terrified of her; she had been since Columbia was born. Mama Callida dealt with her sons simply enough, sending them off to high-class school and lucrative jobs to keep them distracted and wrapped in their own lives. But in Columbia, her only daughter, Mama Callida saw mutiny. She saw an usurper to her empire of drugs, jewels and prostitution. So at every turn she had thrown her daughter down to the dirt. While her brothers were well cared for by servants and teachers she had been left to fend for herself in the streets, stealing from small stores when she was a child, then dealing drugs small-time as she got older and finally moving into the most marketable of trades. Oh, she had tried to get real jobs, tried to make a life for herself, but Mama Callida had always stood in her way, bribing employers and always keeping Columbia where she could keep a close eye on her: the Starlight District.

The car pulled up in front of an ancient wrought-iron fence hung with big red lanterns, a relic of some older time. Columbia simply sat, watching passively as men and women ranging from burly to well-dressed passed in and out. Mama Callida had made a mistake, she thought. She'd given her a street life, forced her to learn how to survive on her own. She was stronger-willed now, smarter than her mother, she was sure of it. And she was close now to taking the old woman down. She opened her closed left fist and stared at the data card, hardly bigger than her little fingernail, which she had snatched from Mama's desk when she lunged across to grab her. Her mother had been afraid her whole life of being dethroned by her daughter. Now she would get what was coming to her.

Columbia swung the door open and stretched her legs out onto the sidewalk, catching the eye of several passing gentlemen. The car drove off behind her, and she slipped the data card under her dress before proceeding through the gate.

Beyond was a wide street, ended and bordered by metal-faced buildings six to eight stories high. The buildings were encrusted with neon lights and signs, holographic advertisements and long dark streaks of soot. Pale steam rose from grates in the concrete floor and in the building walls. Men and women crowded the square, illuminated by the red light of many wrought iron street lamps. Many supported a languishing nightwalker, all with backs arched and chests thrust out, teasing or enticing the passersby. Those stands were only the display however, the models in glass windows. Most of the business happened in the buildings, in the bars and markets, where the men could be more discreet about their motives, their desires.

Columbia slipped her way through the crowd, down the street and into one of the seedier bars, set into a back corner, with steps leading down to a battered steel door. Technically she should have been looking for customers. The Starlight District was run by Mama Callida, and as one of the workers she had monetary quota to fill. But she was tired, and needed a drink and time to rest.

Inside was dark, smoky, reeking of scum and alcohol. Columbia hurried over to the bar, trying to avoid eye-contact with any of other clientele, but she was a worker here, she would attract attention no matter what. She slid onto an empty barstool, despite the suggestions around her that she could join them in any of their seats. She waved the bartender over and ordered whatever was strong.

"Lookin' for some company, baby?" came a voice on her right. She glanced over. He was truly hideous; big, thimble-headed, and with breath that smelled of some interplanetary herb that was making him cross-eyed.

"Not tonight," she answered.

The big man scowled. "C'mon." He pulled a thick wad of bills from inside his vest. "What's your job here, anyway?"

A long drink didn't quite smother the queeziness rising in her. She didn't want to do this, more importantly, she didn't have time for this, but she might not be able to get out of it unless...

"Why don't you crawl back to whatever hole you were born in," said a voice, and a young woman approached. Her skin was jet black, her short hair ink-black. Even her teeth and the whites of her eyes were a smoky grey, and her irises were like to portals to a starless night sky. A tight pink shirt showed off her figure while heavy cargo pants suggested more practicality. "How much is that? Two hundred?" She pulled out a larger, cleaner stack of bills and stuck it out to Columbia. "Four hundred to service me instead of this toad."

"Done," said Columbia, and snatched up the money. The black-skinned girl nodded, then snarled at the man. "Bugger off." His expression turned sour at first, but he stuck the money back into his vest and shuffled off.

"Unity," Columbia smiled. "Thank you, but don't do that again. I can handle myself."

Unity smiled back. "I know. It's not as selfless as you might think." Her smile become somewhat somber. "I need to talk to you Mia, alone."

Her eyes widened. "It's done?"

There was a moment's hesitation, then she nodded. Columbia left a bill on the bar for the drink, then followed her friend to the stairs in the back and up to a small, sparse room lit only by a single fogged window.

"So? Where is it?"

Unity held out a small object hanging from a chain that glinted in the faint light. Columbia snatched it greedily, and held a silver pocket watch. Clicking it open revealed a crystal face bearing three glowing zeros. It was heavier than it looked, and she could just make out tightly packed circuitry behind the crystal surface.

"When it's open it'll scoop from any data points around it, then close it to permanently encrypt the information. The timepiece will indicate how many individual entities are stored inside. But whatever your scooping from will have to be active and operating or it won't work." She pause and glanced over her shoulder. "And of course, it'll need memory storage with the proper format. Did you get it?"

Her fingers dug the data card from her dress and slid it into a slot on the watch's side. It settled in with a little click. Columbia's teeth gleamed in the dark. "Thank you, Unity. You have no idea how big this is."

Unity nodded, but kept facing the window, arms crossed. "I'm leaving, Mia"

The breath caught in Columbia's chest. "What? Why?"

"Why do you think? Some customer caught a glimpse of me at my boss's shop and called the police. They haven't dragged me off to holding yet but it's only a matter of time." She turned around to face her, eyes hard, lips held tight. "So I'm taking my ship to Blackheart and setting up there." Her hard eyes started to shimmer, her bottom lip twitched. "I'll-I'll keep in touch. I hear interplanetary messaging is cheaper on Blackheart." A heavy sigh broke her demeanor and her chin fell down against her chest. "I just...I wanted to spend a night with you before I go."

Columbia set the watch onto the table beside her, crossed the floor to her friend and wrapped her arms around her, nuzzling her face into the crook of her neck. Unity was hesitant for a moment, then hugged her back, and shed silent tears onto Columbia's shoulder. Columbia cried with her. Their relationship was a simple one. Unity had helped her, when she had really, desperately needed it. They'd live together for a while, and it had made them close. Simple, but powerful.

"I'll miss you Unity."

She laughed to choke down a sob. "I'll miss you too, Mia."

They leaned back to stare into each other's eyes, then pressed theirlips lightly together. They looked at each other again, then kissed harder.Then Columbia crossed over and pulled a blind across the window, and the roombecame completely dark.