Sunshine

It was just Pat and Jesse and me. Aimil went back to the library. When we awkwardly said good-bye, her face was full of bright shadows I couldn’t read. I looked at her, trying to resettle her in my mind as a partblood and a SOF. Did it take that much effort? I didn’t know. It was taking me a lot of effort to be whatever I now was.

While Pat did some shifting-papers-around things and Jesse disappeared for a few minutes I moved over to the sunlight falling through the gray window of Pat’s office. The sunlight felt thin, but it was sunlight. SOF windows were all gray because of the proofglass: proof against bullets, firebombs, kamikaze Weres, glass- and steel-cutting demon talons, spells, charms, almost everything but an armored division with howitzers. Proofglass had only come on the market about ten years ago, just after the Wars, which might have been a little less fatal if it had been invented a few years earlier. All high-risk businesses and the military and most other government departments, plus a lot of paranoids, both the kind with real enemies and the other kind, now had proofglass in their windows and their vehicles. Proofglass upgrader was a popular new career among young magic handlers. You didn’t have to be a magic handler to get hired as an upgrader, but you’d probably live longer.

Nobody had figured out how to make it less gray though. Gray and depressing, like being in jail. Hadn’t they done studies that humans really need sunlight? Not just light. Sunlight. And all humans, not just me. I hoped Charlie’s wasn’t going to have to put in proof-glass.

I hoped I was still human.

Pat drove and put me in the front seat with him. “Can you still feel—whatever?”

I thought about it. Reluctantly. I poked around for that feeling of Here. I found it. It was like finding a dead rat in your living room. A large dead rat. “Yes,” I said.

“West?”

“Yes.”

We drove. Old county buildings quickly became Old Town, which turned almost as quickly into downtown and then rather more slowly into nothing-in-particular town, blocks of slightly shabby houses giving way to blocks of somewhat seedy shops and offices and back again. It wasn’t a big city; we went over the line into what most of us called No Town far too soon. In the first place I didn’t want to go there at all, in the second place I didn’t like being reminded that it was so close. New Arcadia‘s only big bad spots are in No Town, which did compel a certain amount of evasive driving. Even a SOF car can only go where there are still roads, and urban bad spots get blocked off fast. But we weren’t going nearly indirectly enough for me.

Here moved out of the back of my mind into the front, like Large Zombie Rat getting up off your living room floor and following you into the kitchen where you realize that it’s bigger and uglier than you thought, and its teeth are longer, and while zombies are really, really stupid, they’re also really, really vicious. They’re also nearly as fast as vampires, and since they don’t just happen, they’re made for a purpose, if one is coming after you, that’s probably its purpose, and you’re in big trouble.

Here was getting worse. It was going to burst out of my skull and dance on the dashboard, and it wouldn’t be anything anyone wanted to watch. “Stop,” I said. Pat stopped. I tried to breathe. Zombie Rat seemed to be sitting on my chest, so I couldn’t. I couldn’t see it any more though—there didn’t seem to be anything left but its little red eyes—no, its huge, drowning, no-color eyes—

“I—can’t—any—more—turn—around,” I think is what I said. I don’t remember. I remember after Pat turned around and started driving back toward Old Town. After what felt like a long time I began breathing again. I was clammy with sweat and my head ached as if pieces of my skull had been broken and the edges were grinding together. But Zombie Rat was gone.

That had been far too much like the bad spot the SOF car hadn’t protected us from, the day Jesse and Pat took me back out to the house on the lake. (Those no-color eyes…both mirror-flat and chasm-deep…if they were eyes…) But we hadn’t tried to drive through a bad spot. And this time it was just me. Pat and Jesse hadn’t noticed anything. Except my little crisis.