You know what my favorite thing to do is? Look at the sky. It's not only my favorite color, blue, but it's…uncomplicated. Easy to understand. I don't have to explain myself to it; I just stare up at it, and we smile at each other, and I have a friend for those precious few moments. I am looking at her right now (I've decided it's female because it has a seductive, feminine quality as it flows through twilight into night), and I feel delicious.
I'm mad iced, with no track mark left thanks to the newest needle designed by my own Angel, and brilliant violet sparkles pop into the cobalt sky like fireworks. I smile and sigh contentedly. The stress and tension and unwanted thoughts drain though my body like I've been sucked dry by a vampire, and it's wonderful. My thoughts can never leave without help, and I hate them. I don't think about things anymore. It's so much easier this way.
The grass beneath me tickles like soft fur, one scratching my arm beneath the elbow. It's like the sensation is a nerve impulse, lightening quick, streaming through my arm, to my chest, to my brain, and exploding in a fantastic array of colors in the sky.
"What?" Duo asks when I start giggling. I point up to the sky.
"Can't you see?" I say. "Can't you see it? Look." I grab his hand and hold it up, pointing his finger at a point to the left of the smaller sun. "Right there. The colors…It's like a rainbow's been torn to shreds and tossed like confetti."
"Jori..."
I look over after a moment. His voice was so serious I'm afraid to look. He's staring at me with those innocent blue eyes, so bright they look like two big moons. No matter how many times I look at those eyes I feel a tingle all the way through me, right down to my pinky toe. I think they're getting bigger as I watch him.
He says nothing. A piece of tall grass pokes up in front of his nose, and I push it down with my free hand. It pops back up. I push it back down. It pops back up. I pu—
"It's not working."
"What's not, silly?" I ask distractedly.
He brings our hands, still outstretched to the sky like beggars', back to the ground in between us. He runs a hand over the invisible track mark, on my left temple, and his face explodes like a frag into thousands of whirling colors, spinning like dervishes. I can't concentrate on anything—my whole body vibrates, tingles, deliciously warm, then shivering cold and I can't think, can't speak, can't….
When I come to a few seconds later Duo's hand is under my head and I've drooled a little. I close my eyes. I want to hold on to the last wisps of the mind-gasm, grabbing up the remnants like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter. It's the best feeling in the world.
"This," Duo suddenly says so mournfully I honestly thought he was about to cry. He hasn't cried in months, and he was doing so much better on the new stuff, TripIce. I try to focus on him, but my eyes are still slightly crossed, just like the wires in my head after the mind-gasm. Shit, I've got to get this to Maldren. She'd love it. Or hate it. One or the other for her and Hiiro, nothing in between. What a way to live.
"What're you talking 'bout?" I slur. Like my eyes, my mouth is still trying to work out the kinks of motor function.
Duo lowers his voice to a whisper and a sheen comes into his eyes. "I'm still thinking, Jor. I can't stop it."
The coldness that creeps into my body is not the same cold I felt a moment ago. There's nothing pleasant about this cold. But I plaster a smile on my face, scrunching up my face hard. He closes his eyes when I put my hand on his chest. When I start twirling my finger, he sighs. I know what he must be feeling, the incredible bliss. It's not the same as physical pleasure; it's a step above. The evolution of physical pleasure.
"You just have t'try hard'r," I murmur. A light breeze wafts over our bodies and we sigh as it sends currants of electricity skittering through our cells.
I look back up to the sky. We're basically elaborate robots, our bodies streamlined for our necessary functions. Break one important bit, and the rest can't function. Add something new to the mix and all sorts of fun things can happen. We're just like computers, but I like computers better. There's nothing more satisfying than building a program from scratch, bringing lifeless lines of code together to form a living being. I used to work with computers, customizing all the machines I operated during the war. People called me Dr. Frankenstein because I could fix anything, make anything, and had a strange fascination with cyborgs.
There was a time when I could have told you every single bone in the human body, a time when I could draw a detailed map of the human nervous system. A time when I could explain all the horrible side effects of Ice, enumerate the reasons to avoid it, and tell you why I pledged to never inject it into my body, even when we were using it for an adrenaline boost.
But that was a long time ago—stop! Brain, I order you to stop thinking about that.
"Stop it," I say aloud. Duo doesn't hear me, or doesn't care enough to say anything. The Ice is wearing off, and the heavy slab of concrete reality is falling from the sky straight at me. It's been months since I let it hit me, and I'll be damned if I'm going to start now.
"Duo, I'm near." I poke him, evoking a genuine cry of pain, like I've stabbed him. All sensations are magnified, not just the nice ones. "Near, Duo." That's our code word that lets the other know it's time to find the next hit. It can take us hours to find a dealer, since they never go to the same place twice. Too dangerous. Judging from the suns, it's almost noon. I'll fit in two or three more hits before we call it a night.
I gingerly sit up, and the sensation from pushing against the grass isn't as strong as before. I look down at Duo. He's staring straight up, his pupils dilated so far the blue is a thin stripe. He's lost weight, we both have, but Ice is loaded with electrolytes so and vitamins so we're not too bad off. The people who make it, those invisible people in black suits and dark glasses, don't want their customers dying too soon.
His scar shines dully, paler than his skin, tracing out a perfectly straight diagonal line from the top of his nose, over his cheek, past his mouth, to the middle of his jaw line on the right. I snap my head to the side, reeling a bit from the sudden nausea of movement. That damned scar conjures up images of memories I don't want. I can smell the acrid smoke, feel the fire, see the sleek, sliver blade. Who would've guessed he'd get a scar like that after the war.
Stop! No more thinking.
"Duo."
"What?"
"Get up. I need another hit."
"Maybe two at once."
He opens his eyes. They're wild, but I don't know if it's with pain or pleasure. The two are so intertwined nowadays that I can't distinguish between them.
"That's just stupid, Duo."
"Think about it, Jor." He's smiling now, his fox grin, where his lips curl up at the ends and his two top canines look like a vampire's. No woman can resist the fox grin; I certainly couldn't. Right now he looks good enough to eat, but the hunger inside me is clamoring for something else. Something icier. The fog in my head is clearing, and I'm not liking what's being revealed.
"Two at once would make our brains mushy, like oatmeal," I say.
"Just a little the second time. Come on," he says, taking my hand. "We'll just try a little, see what happens. If it's this quick wearing off, what's a little more going to do?"
I can never resist him when he's charming, and he knows it.
"Maybe," I concede. "But first we should worry about finding some."
"Angel gave me a tip this morning. Somewhere in Quadrant Two North, at 3 o clock."
I lift my right hand up. I still have my standard-issue three-in-one accessory implant; a watch, GPS, and radar all in one small disc on my wrist. It's a thin coating above the skin, with luminous LED lights, controlled by brain waves. I think about the time and it shows it. I'm lucky a poacher hasn't tried to slice it out yet.
"We're in Quad Five, right? 30 minutes straight to Q 2. We've got two and a bit hours. Plenty of time for food," I say.
"You have money for that? Where is this secret treasure chest of gold?" he says with a grin.
"I have my secrets," I say coyly.
"Oh yeah?"
"You bet. You only think you know me," I tease.
Moving with cat-like speed he pins me to the ground. His braid slips past his neck, pooling next to my head. He lowers his mouth very close to mine.
"What secrets?" he whispers. The hunger inside is splitting between Duo and Ice, and I can't decide which I want more. Duo brushes my temple with his finger.
I think Ice will have to wait.