Up Against It - M. J. Locke [29]
Chikuma never saw anyone these days. She had grown rather frail. Jane was of course a member of Chikuma’s inner circle, but her own reluctance to disturb Chikuma’s peace caused Jane to maintain a certain reserve. (Also, alerting Funaki-sensei to local political events was akin to releasing the whirlwind.) But nobody knew better than Chikuma Funaki the threat that Ogilvie & Sons posed to Phocaea. If Jane could choose a single ally to back her in a fight against the mob, it would be Chikuma Funaki.
Jane said, “I apologize for not calling. Matters have been hectic.”
“You have been dealing with a terrible crisis. I want to offer my support in whatever way we can help.” By “we” she meant not just her family, but 25 Phocaea’s entire business community.
“Thank you.”
“Perhaps we could meet to discuss the situation in more detail, sometime soon.” Jane wondered if she knew something more specific than she was saying. Though Chikuma was one of the six Phocaeans whom Upside-Down Productions wasn’t permitted to record, and she used the best encryption money could buy, she and Jane never got too specific online.
“I would be delighted.”
“Will you come for tea tomorrow afternoon, then?”
Jane bowed deeply. “I’d be delighted, Sensei. Thank you.”
She started to make another call, but Xuan floated over with a bowl and waved it under her nose. Her stomach complained.
“Come. Eat. Trust your people and let them do their jobs.”
So she signed off. They ate a green Vietnamese curry with nonspecific vat-grown protein, fresh veggies, and enough chili to take the lining off her sinuses. She wiped her eyes and nose. “Just what I needed.” She carried the dishes into the kitchen to wash. “Thank you, dear.”
“Kieu and Pham and their families are packing up and heading into town tomorrow.” His siblings. “I’ll be helping them move.”
“Good. We’ll have a space set aside.”
The kids both called after dinner. Lag from Earthspace was a good forty-four minutes, so it wasn’t a conversation, merely an exchange of messages. Dominica called first, from Indonesia. “Checking in again,” she said. “Tell the Agres … I’m very, very sorry.”
And then Hugh, from Jovespace, anguished, distraught. “How could this have happened? It doesn’t feel real. I wish I weren’t so far away.” A long, heavy pause. “There’s a rock I left on my shelf. It was a gift from Carl. I want you to give it to Geoff. He’ll know why.”
Jane and Xuan shared a glance. “Can you come tomorrow?” she asked. The look on Xuan’s face told her just how big a crisis the disaster had created in his own professional life. But he nodded. “I’ll be there, if at all possible.”
He did not know the Agres well; he was going for her sake.
Jane shook her head. “On second thought, never mind. But I will take you up on dinner in town tomorrow night, if you can swing it.”
* * *
After his evening meditations, Xuan made good on his promise for a full-body massage. The knots in Jane’s shoulders and back released their grip under his hands; she hissed with mingled pleasure and pain. Other pleasant activities ensued.
You have to really want sex to achieve it in low gee; Newton’s three laws play havoc with bodies in motion. Fortunately, Xuan had jury-rigged all manner of pulleys, slings, and other gear, enabling them to achieve a pleasing degree of mutual, sweaty satisfaction. Afterward they snuggled in each others’ arms in their bed webbing—drowsy, skin touching skin.
Xuan had optic upgrades, and he loved looking at her, naked, in the dark. It was the one time she truly relaxed. Her skin glowed like liquid jewel; the muscles of her face relaxed, lips slightly parted in a smile; the warmth from where his own flesh had pressed against hers was slowly fading from her breasts, belly, and thighs. Xuan kissed her open palm and folded her hand in his.
“So,” he said.
Jane’s face contorted in pain. She pressed her face against his chest, stiff with anguish. Xuan took her into a hug. He stroked her hair, and felt the