R.A.T. by Robin Jeffrey

Author:Robin Jeffrey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robin Jeffrey

14

Chapter 14

District 16 appeared cozier and quainter in the grey daylight than it had in the rainy night; I found myself appreciating the charm of the ramshackle buildings and archaic streets as we walked to Ergo Sum. Simone’s keys granted us access to the building’s lobby, but somehow it felt wrong to switch on the blinding overhead lights, so the pair of us stood in the dim room, staring around at the quiet space by the light of the weak sun, the only sound the murmur from the travelogues, which still played on loop around the room.

“Right,” I said, hands on my hips. “Shall we have a better look around while we wait for this chap of Simone’s to show up?”

Cadence rolled her eyes in a rare moment of cheek, chiding: “He’s not a ‘chap’, he’s a reczec.” She strode past me into the lobby. “But, yes – we may as well be productive.”

I made a face at her back before striking out in the opposite direction, heading for the large oval reception desk. Behind the desk, I found a paper logbook, filled with tallies, names, and dates of which I could frankly make neither head nor tails. At last, I determined that it was a general accounting of the busyness of the space, who was at the desk, and when.

I flipped through the logbook and glanced up at Cadence. “I thought you did very well with Ayla, by the way.”

Cadence turned away from the wall-bolted screen she was watching. “It turns out that children are not so different from adults. Except I think I might prefer them. They’re more… honest.”

I quirked an eyebrow and refocused my attention on the endless list of names and dates in front of me. The logbook went back months, and people’s penmanship often left something to be desired. “They certainly don’t hesitate to let you know what they’re thinking.”

“I like that,” said Cadence, crossing to one of the low square coffee tables. She picked up one of the complimentary readers that sat there, turning it on and flipping through its contents. “I’ll admit, sometimes I don’t have the slightest idea what’s going on in your head.”

“Me? I’m an open book,” I lied with gusto.

“You’re a mystery,” she looked up and met my gaze with her customary boldness. “One I don’t think I’ll ever quite figure out.”

I almost told her then. Maybe I should have. Maybe things would have turned out differently if I had just admitted that, if being a mystery was what was keeping her with me, I wanted to be uncrackable. Because I never wanted her to leave.

Instead, we both turned at the sound of the front door opening and closing. In the lobby, a tall, lanky man stood partly in shadow. He sported a large puff of bouncy black hair and carried a bulky messenger bag slung diagonal over his chest. Even from this distance, I could see that the man’s arms were covered, from wrist to elbow, in cascading triangles, geometric tattoos that were reminiscent, but not identical in style, to Cadence’s.

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