What Susan noticed first was the purse.
Susan always noticed them. She prided herself on having the most unique purse at any event. She had learned early that if she didn’t want to be known as Susan The Deaf Girl, she had to be memorable in some other way.
Theresa plopped into a chair and plugged her ears; she couldn’t help herself. But it made no difference. The sound came from within.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. Her husband, Malcolm, studied her, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “The ringing’s back?”
“Yeah.”
“You could go see another doctor—”
“No.”
The doorbell jingles. I stuff my nanocell into my khaki pocket and paste on my customer-service smile. The doors slide shut behind a woman and two men. “Welcome to the Nanotech Center!” I say.
My smile wavers at their dark clothing. They match the descriptions of the Sound, the infamous gang—
The City Hall walls are made entirely of glass. The sun pierces through, warming my back.
It would be a beautiful day if not for the two security guards pointing tasers at my face.
City Hall’s hustle lurches into slow motion. The second hand on the clock could race a snail,
Kay studied her notes while the sounds of the alien planet filled her spaceship. Wind whistled through the sugar reeds, sand blew across the dunes, and water lapped along the shore. Birds called out as they took flight, and a chorus of insects chirped in the background.
“The ambience of Ailuros is beautiful,
The tears arrive in a vial of see-through metal foam: 100 ml, 800 Alu-dollars, and very hard to come by. Unless you know Miso. Miso knows the black market like no other.
“Whatta ya want ‘em for, anyway?” he says, scratching his artificial eyelid.
“Brecca. I miss him.”
What I keep to myself is that,
Zach sliced the Demeter Ambrosia apple with his laser cutter. His mouth watered as the laser’s heat caramelized the juices. He placed the slice reverently on a piece of pound cake and raised it to his lips.
It tasted… normal.
He scowled and tossed the rest of the apple to Tetsuo.
“Look at me, bringing home the bacon for my lady!” Fred hung his jacket in the closet and followed me into what used to be my kitchen. He excitedly inspected the enormous metal box that had replaced our cabinets, refrigerator, oven, toaster, blender, and microwave.
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Cass stretched out onto the suns-baked mudflat and closed her eyes, relishing the heat radiating into her stiff back. When she focused on the sound of the water sloshing through the reeds and the burnt taste of campfire smoke, she could almost pretend that she was home.
“The crabobster’s ready,” Trent said.
Owen slumped on the steps of his back porch, chin on his hands, eyes glued to the gentle stream flowing along the furthest edge of his backyard. Ruby had been with him for two years; two wonderful years. She knew him too well. She had to know that something had changed.
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Mari watched the descent to Vorin IV through the viewport, stomach churning like the purple clouds frothing in their ship’s wake. Despite being Earthborn, she had quickly learned to love space-cruising. It was the closest to freedom, peace, and a few other unalienable rights she’d ever get again.
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My cubicle door opens.
I hope it’s Nira, my favorite Facilitator. Instead two authorities burst in.
White suits. Masks. Blue gloves.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“You’re being removed,” the authority on my left growls. They grab my arms, squeezing
until it hurts, and haul me out.
“What? No!” I scream. “Nira!”
“Trilby!”
It’s Nira.
