Page 20 of Coldwire
I’ve started packing, but my suitcase is only half-filled, and I’m at a loss for what else to bring. I don’t have many clothes in virtual. Rayna, on the other hand, has a bit of a shopping addiction, by which I mean she has a tendency to black out and buy everything in a new-release catalog.
“I need to bring clothes if I’m going away for ten weeks,” I say. “I’m sure you saw the posting.”
“I did see your posting.” She plops down on my bed. “But I’m actually more concerned aboutmyposting.”
I finally pick myself up off the floor, sitting upright. Though Rayna is wailing like it’s the end of the world, this is a very normal display of emotions for Rayna Ward. We’ve been best friends since ninth grade—or more specifically, since our second day of classes at Nile Military Academy, when Rayna asked to borrow a hair tie and was so grateful I had one that she burst into tears. Rayna’s adoptive mom is a high-level lawyer who decided she wanted to raise a child, though she was unpartnered and above the usual rearing age. Like me, from the moment Rayna was taken in, she hasn’t known any other home, even if the law prevents us from being formally claimed.
Unlike me, Rayna is close to her mom in the weird, mushy Atahuan way. She’s grown up comfortable with expressing herself.
“Don’t tell me…,” I say. “It’s because of Hailey, isn’t it?”
Rayna puts her face on my pillow and screams into it. I let her do her thing. Sometimes Gena will message from next door to keep it down if Rayna and I are jabbering too loudly, but she’s probably in the cafeteria for dinner.
“I was supposed to have asked her out already,” Rayna bemoans. “I’m out of time. We have two days left!”
“It could be worse,” I say. “If you were me, you’d actually only have half a day left.”
“You know she wished me luck when I left the cafeteria? That’s officially the twentieth and twenty-first words she’s ever exchanged with me.”
I give Rayna a wry look. Her face is still buried in the pillow. We’ve been in the same social circles with Hailey Murray for as long as I’ve been neck and neck with Kieren Murray in our academic career. Rayna has had plenty of opportunities to talk to Hailey—plenty of parties and idle chatter during lunches. She just makes excuses for herself every time. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Iknow! I’m the most useless lesbian in history.”
She releases another muffled scream. I’m trying very hard not to laugh.
“Look on the bright side,” I say. “Hailey’s posted to Medaluo too. What is she assigned to—military base counts in the cities?”
“Yeah,” Rayna says, muffled. “And I’m surveying the electric grid. We’re never going to cross paths.”
My mind has been circling and circling about why federal would ask for a joint posting. Self-assurance and self-doubt consume me with equal weight. I’m needed for my connection; I’m needed for my face. Kieren is more trusted; Kieren can’t be relied on to handle it himself.
“What about this?” I say to Rayna. “A white girl in Medaluo probably wants to team up with a Medan cadet—ahem—such as yourself. She’ll look more natural in the cities, like she’s visiting a friend rather than engaging in intelligence collection. Ask Hailey if she wants to combine efforts.”
Suddenly Rayna hurtles out of my pillow pile.
“That… is not a bad idea at all,” she says slowly.
I splay my arms. “People call me the queer whisperer.”
“No one calls you that.”
I grab a bundle of socks next to me and launch it at her. It lands dead center on Rayna’s forehead, and with a shriek, she pretends to have been hit by a bullet, pantomiming impact before collapsing against my wall, her neck lolled.
We’re quiet for a moment. Then Rayna’s eyes fly open again.
“Anyway.” She tosses the socks back at me lightly. “Weird what they’re doing with you, huh?”
Oh,nowwe’re talking about me.
“I can’t figure it out.” I put the socks back into my suitcase. They’re mismatched, a gray one and a pink one wrapped together. “Half of me thinks they’re afraid I’m going to turn rogue, so Kieren is keeping watch. The other half wonders if this posting is so important that sending two of us is a contingency against one person getting abducted and tortured midway through, so that at least the other can still finish the task.”
Rayna grimaces, appearing queasy at the thought. She’s the type of student who wants to perform within the bell curve. Getting posted on something important is her idea of a nightmare. “I don’t think anyone is getting tortured upcountry. You could just log out.”
I point a finger at her. “Exactly. Posting failed. The torturers win.”
“Good gracious,” Rayna mutters. “I’m glad I just have the electric grid.”
“If we go to war, the electric grid is the first thing Atahua is going to hit,” I counter. “Everything you learn about its distribution upcountry contributes to how we kill it downcountry.”
