Love Minus Eighty (40 page)

When he reached the spot, she wasn’t there. He stood up in the boat, looked all around.

She wasn’t there.

“
Winter? Winter?
” The boat rocked dangerously as he bent over and peered into the dark water, trying to catch a glimpse of her, wondering if he should dive in, swim down, and try to feel around for her.

Desperate, he looked at her screen, still hovering a hundred feet away, hoping to get some clue as to where she was. Instead he caught a glimpse of movement in the water, fifty feet beyond the screen, almost in the shadow of the estate. It
was Winter, thrashing in slow motion, her face disappearing as each swell passed over her.

“Winter,” he shouted. He dove in, the cold water a shock that left him spluttering as he swam, calling her name, urging her to hang on.

She was under water when he reached her, her face a blur receding into darkness. Rob dove, grasped her by the shoulder, and drew her up until they broke the surface together.

Her eyes were open; Rob didn’t think she was breathing, but he wasn’t sure. Treading water, he pulled her face to his, held her nose and blew into her mouth.

Nothing. He tried again. It didn’t feel like the air was going in. He had to get her into the boat.

He swam on his side, doing his best to hold Winter’s head above water. The boat was drifting away from them. It had been a hundred feet away when he left it, now it was three times that. He redoubled his effort, tried to flatten out so he could kick on the surface of the water, but he couldn’t manage it while holding Winter.

Winter vomited water into his face.

“That’s it, love. That’s it,” Rob said. He turned her so she was facedown, tried to thump her back. She vomited again. “That’s right. Get it all out.”

Winter fell into a coughing fit, her chest and stomach spasming. She took a long, squealing breath and coughed more.

“We have to get to the boat,” Rob said, nearly shouting. “Can you hang on around my neck?” He spun around, wrapped Winter’s hands around his neck, squeezed them together. “Hold on tight, as tight as you can.” Winter dug her fingers into his collarbone. “That’s right.”

Rob swam a breaststroke. It was easier now, but the boat
seemed impossibly far away, drifting toward the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, which separated the bay from the ocean.

“What happened to the boat?” Winter asked, so soft Rob could barely hear.

“It’s drifting away on the current.”

Winter’s legs started thrashing. It took Rob a moment to realize she was trying to kick, to help. They were feeble kicks, but it was nice to see she could move her legs.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You’re not hurt?”

“Don’t talk. Swim.”

So Rob swam, struggling to keep his face above water while bearing Winter’s weight on his shoulders.

Soon the boat was noticeably closer.

And closer still. As they closed in, the boat seemed to be flying across the water, intent on staying out of Rob’s grasp.

Rob kept swimming.

Veronika wiped her eyes, but the tears kept coming.

She wanted to open a screen over the bay to see how Rob and Winter were doing, but it was too risky. If she watched, there was a risk of inadvertently giving away their location to the authorities. The moment Rob tossed their systems into the bay, Veronika closed the screen she’d been watching from, high above the bay, knowing she’d never set eyes on either of them again.

Across the big banquet table, she caught Nathan’s eye. He smiled.

It’s sad, but still a happy ending, no?
he sent.

I’m happy for them, terribly sad for me
, she sent.

Nathan nodded. He stood, gestured for everyone’s attention. It was a large gathering, mostly Bridesicle Watch people, but also some of Winter and Rob’s friends, whom Veronika had invited after the news of their disappearance became public. The room quieted.

“Before the formal festivities begin, I’d like to propose a toast to my two friends.” Nathan raised his glass of champagne, originally intended to toast the demise of the bridesicle program. That could wait. “To Rob and Winter. Wherever you are, wherever you end up, you’re where you belong. Together at last.”

Veronika stifled a sob as she drank. Lycan reached out, patted her back. “I’m sure they’ll be all right.”

Sunali got everyone’s attention and gave a little speech. She lavished praise on Veronika, and Lycan, and even on Lorelei, although the latter was clearly an effort. They toasted the fall of the dating center.

“Now I want to tell all of you something firsthand, before it leaks,” Sunali said, after the toast. Veronika was struck by the woman’s presence, the sense of power and purpose she exuded. “Cryomed is going to announce that it is returning all of the ‘salvage’ bridesicles to their families for burial.”

Sounds of surprise and outrage rose; Sunali raised her hands for quiet. “They want to make Bridesicle Watch seem responsible for these deaths, that we forced the closing of the dating program, now look at the terrible price these poor women and their families must pay.”

Veronika couldn’t help thinking that if the closing had occurred a few weeks earlier, Winter would have been one of those women.

“Right after their announcement, we will announce that Bridesicle Watch will revive all of these women.”

“
All
the bridesicles?” Lycan asked. Veronika was startled by his voice; it wasn’t like him to speak in front of so many people. His graduate student was handling all of the interviews surrounding the rollout of his emotion system app, because he was too nervous to speak in front of the camera.

“No, Lycan, unfortunately we don’t have the funds to revive everyone in the program, only those who’d otherwise be buried. It will drain most of our remaining funds, but with the dating program closed, Bridesicle Watch doesn’t have much reason to exist anyway. So, we’re going out with a bang.”

“What about Mira?” Lycan asked.

Sunali nodded. “Mira will be first. My plan is for her to be at my side at the press conference, if she’s willing. And we’ll revive a few other women who’d otherwise go back to the main facility, to repay favors owed.”

Lycan nodded, went back to looking down at his hands.

“I want to talk to Sunali for a minute,” Lycan said as people were filing out of the banquet.

“About what?” Veronika asked, but Lycan was already halfway across the room. Nathan motioned to her; Veronika held up a finger and hurried after Lycan, who strode up to Sunali like someone mustering his courage for a confrontation.

“I want to be the one to tell Mira she’s being revived,” Lycan said.

“
Wait a minute
,” Veronika said, before she could stop herself.

Sunali ignored Veronika, canted her head at Lycan. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to be the one to tell her?”

Lycan was looking at Veronika, surprised by her outburst.

“Can’t you let Sunali do it?” Veronika asked. “You can speak to Mira once she’s out.”

Lycan shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the same. This is important to me, that I do this.”

“You
know
her?” Sunali asked.

Lycan explained, haltingly, clearly uncomfortable to be confessing his bridesicle sin to the founder of Bridesicle Watch.

When he finished, Sunali looked at Veronika. “And you’re uneasy about this because of their past?”

Veronika nodded.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Sunali said.

It was a remarkably patronizing thing to say, as far as Veronika was concerned. Of course Veronika was being foolish. Of course a woman as stunning as Mira wouldn’t be interested in Lycan, unless she was dead and trapped in that unholy hell. But to come right out and say that? Her hackles up, Veronika asked, “And why is that, Sunali?”

“Because Mira is gay.”

Already prepared with a comeback for what she’d expected Sunali to say, Veronika swallowed it, let out a stunned peep in its place.

“How do you know?” Lycan asked, looking beyond surprised.

Sunali explained. Mira had asked her to pass a message to a woman in the main facility, whose name was Jeannette. Jeannette told Sunali that she and Mira had been partners. Mira never mentioned that to Sunali, evidently afraid of being pulled from the bridesicle program if anyone found out she wasn’t hetero. After doing some digging, Sunali had discovered that in the early days of the dating program, Cryomed had simply plucked longtime residents of the minus eighty without much effort at screening the women, orienting them, or getting their consent.

“I really want to be the one to tell her,” Lycan said. “Please.”

The night air was chilly, but rowing kept him warm, even though he was shirtless after tossing his system overboard. He’d been happy to discover Winter was wearing a shirt underneath hers. Smart girl.

She was still sleeping, curled in the bottom of the boat.

The boat rose on a particularly high wave, plunged down the far side. He was getting used to it somewhat, no longer convinced the boat was going to capsize each time they went over a big wave.

Without his system, he had no idea how long he’d been rowing; all he knew was he needed to get about thirty miles up the coast to ensure they weren’t caught by any surveillance cameras. It was going to be hard, adjusting to having no access to information like that, now that he was systemless.

“You know, it’s still not too late.” Winter was awake, looking up at him. “Take me up the coast, drop me ashore, row back. There’s no evidence you were the one who helped me.”

Rob almost laughed. “Like I told you, I’m glad we got caught. It’s you and me now.”

Moving gently, cautiously, Winter worked her way into the seat across from him. “Head nod. You and me.”

The lights along the coast were growing sparser. A good sign. “That was quite a jump you made.”

“Relax, then follow the bubbles.”

“Come again?”

“I paid a cliff diver for a consult before the jump. He said the key was to relax as much as possible right before impact, and then to remember to follow the bubbles back to the surface, because I’d end up deep underwater.”

“I wish he’d mentioned that you weren’t going to surface anywhere near where you went under.”

“That would have been useful information.”

Rob looked up. The dark sky was beautiful.

“So, where are we heading?” Winter asked.

“Up the coast, then inland. I was thinking we could try to find a raw community that will take us in.”

Winter took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any idea where your brother might be?” It would be nice to have someone they knew, out in the raw lands.

“The last time I heard from him, he was heading toward Montana.”

“That would be a long walk.” Rob rowed just with the left oar for a moment, trying to bring the boat back parallel with the shoreline. “I’m worried about how we’re going to buy food.” He looked at his bare chest. “And a shirt.”

Winter grasped a chain around her neck, drew out a small pouch dangling from it. “Jewelry. Not much, but it’s quality stuff.”

“You are incredible.”

“Hopefully it will keep us fed for a while, but eventually we’re going to have to figure out something else. Have you thought about what it will be like, to live like this?”

Of course he had. It was going to be hard. No friends, no family, no access to Superfood as a last resort. On top of that, the thought of having no remote communication, ever, was almost inconceivable to him. Not even an outdated handheld? It would be like having one of his senses amputated. But it was a tradeoff. He’d be with Winter.

“I’ll be with you,” he finally said. “If that means not getting to watch my favorite shows…” He shrugged. “I can live with that.”

Winter grinned. “I’m going to miss
Purple Daydreams
and
Tempest
. Those are my favorite shows, by the way—if you hate them we might have a problem.”

The swells were getting higher. Rob looked over his shoulder; in the distance white crests topped many of the waves.

“You know why I’m sure we’ll be okay?” Rob asked.

“Why?”

“Because we’re used to hard times.”

“Mira? Can you hear me?” The voice came from a billion miles away, from another galaxy.

Where was she? She waited for the disorientation to clear; she could barely string thoughts together.

“It’s me. Lycan,” the voice said.

Lycan. She could picture him. He’d been… someone important to her.

Then it came back to her, in layers, beginning with Sunali, her removal from the program, then speaking to Jeannette, then Lycan. She opened her eyes.

Lycan was leaning over her, smiling. “I’ve got awfully good news.”

“Good news,” she said. The words felt strange on her lips, as if she was speaking in a foreign language.

“Yes. You’re getting out of here. Sunali is paying for it, but my research helped make it possible. You remember Sunali?”

“I do,” Mira heard herself say. She thought she must be imagining this conversation. Maybe this was her true death. Maybe her time in the minus eighty had ended, and they were pulling her from the crèche, and this was some final spark of light that came before true death.

But how would a soul know the difference between true death and the death of the crèche? Surely it couldn’t.

“I wanted to be the one to tell you. After what I did to you, I wanted to tell you the good news.”

Her mind had cleared enough to be certain she wasn’t imagining this, or dreaming it. Lycan was here. And she was in a different place—the walls and ceiling were less ornate, more hospital than palace. This must be the main facility, where Jeannette was.

“Sunali can really do that? She can afford to get me out of here?”

Lycan grinned. “She really can. She inherited a fortune. Her organization did, anyway.”

“Can you give Sunali a message for me? Tell her I want her to revive Jeannette instead of me. She’ll know who I mean. Can you do that?”