Serpent Heart Hid with Flowering Face #2
“I’m sorry.” Lusa shifted forward, like she was about to give Kerr a hug, but she stopped abruptly. Positioned to receive it Kerr straightened herself and chewed at the inside of her cheek, the slight pain giving her something else to focus on.
“Chalice started giving orders and people listened. We came up with transition rules after.” She let her hands drop to her thighs. “And here we are.”
Lusa stood, one leg behind the other with an awkward stillness. Like she couldn’t decide which way to move. “If it makes a difference, I didn’t have anything against him. Piston, I mean.”
Kerr blew out her cheeks, annoyed. Just when they were starting to get along, she had to bring that up. “Everyone parades through the streets with someone’s arm. Just business, yeah?” She scoured Lusa’s face for a reaction, but got none.
“Look. I’m not trying to start a war,” Lusa said flatly. “If I get Pinga back in time, I’ll do my best to make sure no-one’s going to come after you. We’ll call it even. Besides.” Lusa looked away briefly before returning her dark brown eyes to Kerr. “Everyone knows what Pinga is like.”
Kerr immediately regretted trying to rouse her anger. Why had she done that? Nothing could be salvaged from this anyway. “Chalice killed our trade relationship though, didn’t she?” Kerr snorted, looking away. Lusa’s stare proved too intense. “A right cockup, yeah?”
“Siku deals with that,” Lusa pawed at the back of her neck. “But yeah, probably.”
They stood in silence, off balance and avoiding looking each other in the eye or overtly acknowledging the camaraderie of the absurd situation they shared.
“You can’t bring those in.” Kerr pointed to her knife belt, breaking the tension.
“Why not?” Lusa’s hand covered her knives protectively, as if Kerr had suggested leaving her spleen at the door.
“Whatever knocks out anything with a biosig also fries large pieces of metal. They strapped some to a cat as a test.”
Lusa winced. Apparently, she had a soft spot for strays. Kerr held out her hand. “I’ll hang on to them for you.”
Lusa raised an eyebrow.
“What am I going to do with them?” Kerr scoffed. “Who even uses knives anymore?”
Lusa drew one out of its sheath, tapping the edge. “Pointy end goes into the person.”
Kerr rolled her eyes and pulled Mercutio. “This is more effective, yeah?”
They both half-laughed at the dumb joke, the brief moment of levity adding another layer of adhesive to a bond that shouldn’t exist.
Lusa righted her expression first. “Fine. Don’t drop them.” She unfastened her belt and thrust it toward Kerr, as if she was trying to get her to take back the moment as well.
Kerr took it, their fingers brushing for an instant of possibility. Grateful for the dark, Kerr flushed. She always did colour easily. Maybe that’s what Lusa thought was wrong with her skin. Then Lusa reached to the small of her back and drew a larger, curvier knife.
“What is that?” Kerr’s eyes grew wide. It didn’t look like you could stab someone with it.
“A kukri.” Lusa held it out for Kerr to take. “We grew up using these to garden, but they’re also good at removing limbs.”
“To what?” Kerr had never heard of gardening.
“Never mind.” Lusa breathed a bit too testily. Like she was covering embarrassment. “Where am I going?”
“The hole is on the second floor.” Kerr pointed to a spot near the top of a pile of rubble. “Like I said, everyone who’s tried to go in there has had their cyberware fried and taken months to recover, if they make it out at all.”
“So, I’m your guinea pig to see if it’s the cyberware or something else.”
“Yeah, but if it makes you feel better, cats wander in and out all the time.” Kerr admitted. She felt like she should apologise.
“Just not the ones you strap metal to,” Lusa sighed and removed her coat, handing it to Kerr along with the other objects.
With a deep frown appearing on Lusa’s face, Kerr realised that she had been staring at her arms. The way her perfect sienna skin flowed across her prominent muscles was practically pornographic.
She shook her head, snapping out of it. “Sorry,” Kerr mumbled. “Just not used to seeing arms without cyberware.” She pointed to the strength amplifier patch and her PalmInter on her left hand. “Or prosthetics.” She held up her artificial hand, wriggling her fingers to make the point.
Lusa’s face softened, appearing to accept Kerr’s feeble excuse. It didn’t stop Kerr from mouthing damn after she’d turned her back.
Kerr leaned back against the bike. They didn’t have to be friends, but there was no harm in admiring the way she moved.
Even in loose-fitting TacPants, it was beautiful, the way her legs pushed against the bits of broken Hexaline.
The way her fingers found purchase in the crevices.
The way she made it look like she had already climbed this slope a thousand times before.
She could look. It didn’t mean anything, except that she had eyes.
And Lusa was… nice-ish. Or at least, nice enough not to belittle her. That was a low bar, though, wasn’t it? One that Chalice had failed to clear time and again.
A serpent heart hid with flowering face. Her mum had read that to her once. Before Lydia and the incident with the Styx.
Why did that come to mind? It didn’t describe Lusa. Lusa knew what she was. The serpent did not hide. She rattled her tail and if you stepped on her, well, that was your own fault, wasn’t it?
Kerr flicked her eyes again to Lusa, arse in the air and clawing her way across a large slab of bricks. Obscene and very objectifying thoughts stole her breath. How much more foolish could she be if she saw the snake and tried to pet it anyway?