The Mad Scientist's Daughter by Cassandra Rose Clarke

Author:Cassandra Rose Clarke [Clarke, Cassandra Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Adult, Young Adult, Coming of Age, artificial emotion, futurism, robot amour, artificial intelligence
ISBN: 9780857662668
Publisher: Angry Robot
Published: 2013-01-22T00:00:00+00:00

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you.”

Cat dropped her purse on the floor. Richard barreled up to her. He wore a tie and a jacket. Cat stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out why he wasn’t in his usual jeans and T-shirt.

“Oh my God,” she said.

“Great, now you remember.”

“The Noratech party. It was tonight.”

Richard jerked his head up and down. Cat knew he was nodding yes but it didn’t really look like it.

“When were…” Her voice faltered. She had completely forgotten the party. The rain, the photograph, the loom: they had made her so melancholy she had slipped into the recesses of the past. The present had become the future, and therefore not worth bothering with.

“Thirty minutes ago. Why the hell didn’t you answer your slate?”

“I didn’t hear it.”

Richard glared at her. Cat kicked off her shoes, headed toward the bedroom. “Let me throw on a dress,” she said. “And pull my hair back. I can do my makeup in the car–”

“Why didn’t you hear your slate? Where were you?” Richard caught her by the upper arm, whirled her around. Cat shook off his grasp. “Were you–” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Just tell me where you were.”

“At the studio with Felix. The roof’s metal so with the rain I didn’t hear you calling.” Cat stomped into the bedroom. “Jesus, where did you think I was?”

“I don’t know.” Richard stayed in the hallway. Cat shimmied out of her clothes, stiff with dried rainwater, and pulled a black cocktail dress out of the closet. She checked her hair as she dressed: the rain had curled it into ringlets. She probably didn’t even need to pull it back. Cat twisted her arm around behind her to jerk up the zipper.

“Are you sure you’re gonna go like that?”

Cat stopped, half-zipped. She looked over her shoulder at Richard. “Like what?” she said.

“I don’t know, your hair’s a little wild.”

Cat pulled up her zipper the rest of the way.

“We’re thirty minutes late,” she said. “My hair’s not that important.”

Richard shrugged. “I know,” he said. “It’s just… There’ll be photographers there.”

“So?” Cat grabbed her makeup bag, filled it with a tube of mascara and a couple of shades of lipstick.

“Well, I mean, you need to look good, you know. It makes me look good if you look good.”

Cat stared at him. “Seriously?” she said. “Do you want me to go to this party with you or not? I’m sorry I was late, but I lost track of time–”

“Forget it.” Richard smiled. “You look beautiful. And you’re right, we need to get going.”

Richard drove, the air in the suburbs steaming from the rain and fragrant with pine trees and potted plants. Cat put on her makeup by the flickering light of the street lamps. Red lipstick, black mascara, yellow light. She refused to allow herself to think about anything but eyeliner. Even so, constantly in the back of her mind, was this: Finn’s tapestry.

Finn.

Finn.

Finn.

Cat finished putting on her makeup. She felt like a seashell, pretty enough but empty and easily broken.

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