Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,24

her a look. You’d think she’d be supportive of him trying to call up the Network, what with her praise of big numbers. But no—Julie, like the rest of the Latents he’d spoken with over the past few days, is flat-out opposed to the idea.

She smiles back at him, content as a cat with feathers poking from its mouth.

Mrs. Summers is chatting happily with the Brewers from across the street. Garth shakes his head as he hefts the cartons to the floor. Poor Heather and Paul, and their youngsters Alex and Jacob, all but thrown out of their apartment thanks to their landlord deciding that now is the perfect time not to pay Deke O’Connor.

Garth sneers as he thinks of that small-time crime lord—the sort whose idea of Irish pride was to tat Celtic symbols over every inch of his arms. Word is, ever since Iridium had paid him a call a couple weeks back at the Blarney Stone, Deke had gone looking to prove how far he could piss. Word is, Deke had explained to the Brewers’ landlord just this morning that even with New Chicago festering worse than an unlanced boil on a leper’s arse, it’s no excuse not to make your weekly gambling payments.

Word is, Deke had explained it very succinctly with a firebomb to the landlord’s apartment.

Say what you will about Deke O’Connor, Garth thinks as he ambles to the kitchen, at least he did it when the kids were at school and the parents were at work. The only one who’d been in the two-family house had been the landlord himself, sleeping the sleep of the dead after a particularly raucous night on the town. Now the man sleeps in the critical unit over at New Chicago General. The idiot.

“Anyone for pop?” he calls out.

The Brewer clan answers in the affirmative, and Mrs. Summers politely requests a spot of tea. Julie’s in the kitchen with him now, setting up all the drinks on the counter as he putters by the faucet.

“I hear Screamer tossed about Kat’s car,” Julie murmurs, pouring. “Sent it slamming into one of the Squadron. You know, the still-good Squadron, not the junked Squadron. Kat says it’s nothing but an accordion now.”

“Kat’s lucky she wasn’t in said car when Screamer used it as a cudgel.”

“Kat’s got no way to get to work, not unless she takes a city hover.”

“Shame,” Garth says, waiting for it. Kat’s one of Julie’s closest friends, a teacher over at the Montessori. He puts the kettle on to boil and rummages about for the Twinings packets.

“I was thinking,” Julie says. “I could drive her to and from the school. It’s not safe to be walking the streets, or just waiting for a bus to show.” She finishes doling out the pop, glances at him from over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. She frowns. “You should just nuke the water, have done with it.”

“Bad luck to rush your tea,” he says. “And how’re you going to play chauffeur and still make it to the library on time? Your own job is worth less than hers, I guess?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Or you could come out and say, ‘Garth my love, as you’re a freelance writer with no set schedule, would you be a dear and chauffeur Kat to and from work until she’s got herself an accordion-proof car?’”

Julie smiles, and even with his sunglasses on, it’s positively radiant. “I was thinking I’d have to seduce you before I could ask such a thing.”

“Smart lass.”

He’s about to say more, maybe even kick-start the seduction process, when the ground shakes. And then it groans and gives a violent heave, sending Julie into his arms. Husband and wife exchange a panicked look, then Garth’s bolting into the main room. He doesn’t have to glance behind to see Julie gripping the kitchen doorway, her knuckles white with worry; he knows his wife far too well.

“Drop to the ground,” Garth bellows over the sound of the earthquake, “and get away from the windows! Alex, Jacob, under the table!”

The kids scamper like the Devil’s on their heels, and their parents chase after them. Julie’s calling out words that are meant to be encouraging, but her voice is too shrill. The walls are practically humming with energy, the old-fashioned 2-Ds shaking in their gilded frames. Things fall and splatter as Garth helps Mrs. Summers to the far corner of the room, the one away from the outside wall. He crouches over her as she hugs the