V

Dreams

When Beth finally picked herself up off the asphalt, wincing, the sun had already started going down, painting the edges of the dilapidated, dirty skyscrapers orange-red. Beth grimaced, feeling the throb in her torso, arms, everywhere. Her lip stung, and the vision in her right eye was obscured, but at least she wasn't still bleeding anywhere. Grimly, she brushed the dirt from her clothes as best she could. They were three sizes too big and falling apart. And black. Beth hated black. But she didn't have so many outfits she could be careless of any. She set her teeth, and began limping down the street.

The bus was long gone and so were the last of the kids from school, the ones whose parents had run late for whatever reason or other. Beth didn't have a com, or anyone that'd come even if she could call for a ride, so she trekked the fifteen blocks from the primary school to the Millers alone. She skirted the smokers on the corners, kept to the shadows, out of sight of the pimps and their strung-out whores with dirty fingernails and clown makeup and desperate, haunted eyes. One of 'em couldn't be older than twelve. Beth swallowed, passing her, wondering if the girl had been up in the intermediate across the school from the primary, a few weeks or months ago. Three blocks from the Millers' Beth heard a shot down on Tenth, and she hurried a little faster along, swearing in her head as each step sent a twinge through her bruised shin and swollen knee, because she couldn't risk swearing aloud.

Dwight and Karen were fighting in the yard. Apparently Karen had dumped Dwight for Tish down the street. They were screaming and cussing in the dirt yard. "Shut the hell up, Dwight, no one cares," Beth snapped. "Reynolds, if it's over, get out and go find your new girlfriend."

"Who the fuck asked you, you little snot? Where the hell you been, anyway?" Dwight snarled.

"None of your damn business!" Beth shot back. She opened the chipping, discolored front door and stomped inside. Behind her, Dwight and Karen went right back to screaming and cussing. Well, at least it was better than the two of them having sex down the hall every day, Beth reflected. The walls here were too thin.

Mr. Miller was in the living room on the couch, beer in hand and three empty bottles already on the coffee table. His sparse hair was greasy, his eyes were bloodshot and pink-rimmed. He grunted at Beth and continued to watch the game on the TV. From the bedroom, Mrs. Miller was sobbing again about something or other. This was the worst shithole Ms. Brown had dumped her in yet, Beth thought.

Coop was playing as quietly as possible with Annie in the corner, because if they got too loud it'd mean at least no dinner and maybe a belting, even though Annie was only three, a freaking baby. She'd learn, though. Or maybe get adopted. She was cute. Beth nodded at Coop. He smiled shyly at her. God, he was such a sissy. She wondered how the hell the bullies never picked on him at school. Probably 'cause he was so boring he was invisible. Beth tipped Coop a wave and stalked down the hall to the room she shared with Lindsay.

She could circle the smoke in the streets, but here the sickly sweet smell permeated the place. Beth shut the door, though, and swung up on to her bed. She lay on the lumpy mattress and glared at the cracked ceiling. Rolling another joint between her fingers, Lindsay watched her with sleepy eyes from her position propped up against the headboard of her own bed.

"Missed the bus again? That's a beaut of a shiner, there. What'd you do this time?"

"Sanchez and his flunkies were laying into Liz just 'cause her dad's trading with aliens at the warehouse. Freaking xenophobic morons," Beth muttered.

"Xeno-what now?" Lindsay slurred.

Beth half sat up and fell back down, futilely trying to find a comfortable spot. "If they'd just done the stupid reading. Or watched a vid. Aliens—there are whole worlds out there, and if we don't work together, all of us are going to be . . . stuck. Forever. You know? I told them. They didn't appreciate it."

"You and aliens. Ever since you came here. Not everyone does appreciate you shoving your crazy brains in their faces," Lindsay said, not unkindly. "Why can't you just keep your mouth shut, huh?"

"Because Sanchez was wrong, and he was picking on Liz for no good reason."

"You don't even like Liz."

"So?"

"Isn't Sanchez three years older than you?"

Beth shrugged.

"And how many guys did he have with him?"

"Five." Beth spat out the number, defiant.

"Five." Lindsay blew out more smoke and hit her head against the headboard, closing her eyes lazily. "Jesus, Shepard. You just got badass enough that that other crew stopped messing with you, and now you're out to make even more friends. You really know how to pick your fights. You trying to get killed?"

"No," Beth said. "It's not my fault they're all idiots. Or just . . . horrible."

"You think you're so smart. Or some kind of hero. But you just piss people off, kid. Here. You want a hit?" She reached over to offer Beth the joint.

"You know I hate that stuff. I wish you wouldn't smoke it in here."

"You need to learn to chill, kid. Only way you can make it, round here."

"I've been making it a lot longer than you have," Beth said. "So thanks, but no thanks."

"That's right, you're a vet, aren't you? Old hat in the system. How long have you been in, anyway? How many homes?"

"Six. I don't even have another story, Olson." Beth kept her face straight, didn't let her roommate see how badly it still hurt that there wasn't anyone, hadn't ever been anyone, that no one had ever claimed her.

Lindsay didn't say anything for a long time. Either she was getting properly stoned now or she knew there wasn't anything to say. She wasn't a bad sort. "It sucks here," she said finally, in a voice so full it shook. "I'm getting out, Shepard."

Beth sat up, crossed her legs. "You got an out? How?"

"I know a guy," Lindsay said. "Says he knows a guy that has a job across town. I can get my own place, make some money."

"What kind of job?" Beth asked.

"Sales," Lindsay said. "Vert says Grayson got a new store. New fashions. He needs people to sell them. All I have to do is lie to the fat ladies and tell them they look great in the stuff when they don't and check 'em out, and I get a huge discount."

"When you leaving?"

"Next week." Lindsay ground out her joint in the tray she kept under her bed, and looked up at Beth. "I'll be glad to see the back of this place, but I'll be a little sorry to see the back of you, Shepard. You aren't a bad kid. Always interesting, anyway."

Beth looked Lindsay over. She was far from the worst roommate Beth had ever had. "Hope it's worth it, dropping school for this," she said.

"We can't all be geniuses," Lindsay smiled. "There's other things out there, you know?"

"Yeah," Beth said.

"What do you want to do, Shepard? What's your out gonna be?"

Beth snorted. "I'm just a kid. Nine can't do anything for anybody. At least, nothing good. No, I'm stuck here for a few more years. But you're damn right I won't be forever. Someday . . ." She stopped, almost laughing as her face stung and her body throbbed, ashamed to speak her dream aloud.

"Someday?" Lindsay prompted, sleepily. She was half-asleep now.

"The Alliance," Beth whispered. The light hadn't been on to begin with, and now the room was almost entirely dark. "There are worlds out there, light years away from East Side, and I want to see them. If I can stick it out, just long enough . . . just long enough . . ."

"You'll play hero up there in the stars, huh?" Lindsay chuckled. "Get paid to get beat up every week? God, you'd probably be good at it, kid. You stick it out, Shepard. You stick it out."

"And you. Good luck with your job. I hope it goes well for you."

Lindsay turned over. "Yeah. Yeah." Her breathing shifted as she fell asleep, and Beth stared at the ceiling, feeling trapped and young and small and beaten. The stars she longed for felt farther than far, unreachable. The lights of Vancouver polluted the sky so she couldn't even see them.