The fountain at Damor's Nexus Park was an unrivalled meeting place, and for good reason. It stood at the centre of the Park's western side, a towering triangular structure made of sand-hued stone. Cascades of water ran down not only its stepped sides, but in three wide, tiered sheets, reflecting the lights of the business district opposite. Illuminations from below cycled languidly through the spectrum. Oddly-shaped shadows danced up through the ornamental plants.
Jasha and I walked along the wrought-iron fences that approached the fountain. The nearest corner of the park grounds was informally given over to local artists. I stopped briefly as I spotted one of Katiat's pieces. It was unmistakable. A tangle of red fabric and bronze rope, suggesting the shape of a human heart, hung suspended between the fence and a nearby tree. Subdued golden light spilled out from gaps in the loosely-wound cloth. It made me smile.
I wanted to see her again. It put me in mind of the empty apartment I'd pointed out to them, on offer from one of my father's business friends. What if I took it? Would it change anything between us? We were just friends now -- the more intimate adventures remained back in that previous life, before university. I didn't want to go back. Only to amplify the good things we had now. All of us.
The main cascade of the fountain had, on either side, a trio of nano-programmed water figures. They danced in flickering shapes that looked almost human. It was one of Danae's favourite spots. Jasha and I found her there now, her curly brown hair bobbing as she laughed and talked to the wide group of friends that surrounded her. He and I angled across the broad pavement, filled at this hour with dozens of meandering people.
She gave me the kiss of greeting on both cheeks. Her eyelids were painted with a purple glittering sweep of shadow, and she wore a black cotton shift dress, embroidered with subtly glowing Mercurian pictograms. I tried to read them, as she kissed Jas hello, but it had been so long since my mother had taught me those symbols.
"Will you come to our show tonight?" Danae rushed to ask us.
I glanced at Jasha, who nodded his interest. "Sure," I told her. "What is it?"
"You'll have to see," she said. "I'm nervous, but it's tremendously important."
"Well then, we won't miss it. What time? Where?"
She gave us the time, and the location, at one of the clubs that had recently changed hands on the north side of the Park. I set an inner alarm, just to be on the cautious side. We talked for a while, and she introduced us to a few of her friends that I hadn't met before. Then, as usual, she went right to the point. "What would you like to get tonight? Free for you, Jasha, of course."
He grinned. "Give mine to Jess," he said. "I've got something of my own to try out."
I looked at him sidelong, as Danae made a curious sound. Then she turned to me. "Alright, then." She looked me up and down, trying to seem stern, but her dimples showed. "It's been too long, Jessyn. I forget what you even like."
"Me too," I teased. "You choose for me."
She bit her lip, in thought or in treachery, I couldn't tell.
Danae called to a young woman near her, "Fadiah?"
The girl stepped up. She had a half-shaved head and a long dark braid, wound through with flowers whose species shifted as I watched. She smiled at us and opened a shoulder bag. Danae deliberated, then reached in and selected a small bottle.
She dosed me, right on the tip of my tongue. "What was it?" I asked afterwards.
"Guess, and tell me when you get there," she said, and laughed.
Later, Jasha and I wandered to the far side of the fountain, where it faced the thickest of the original preserved forest. On this side, the top cascade dripped and ran quietly through tier after tier of lush greenery. Just about every plant native to Daltia was represented. The fountain's various overflows merged into a small landscaped canal. It ran the length of the Park and into the sea. We paused on one of the many tiny bridges over this stream and Jasha put a dropper between his lips.
"You sure this is alright?" I asked, not certain why I kept my voice so low.
"Yes," he said simply. He looked calm enough.
"Is it --" I switched to Linear. (The one we tried?)
(Of course.)
(Set an alert anyway,) I told him, as gruff as I could muster as his younger brother.
Jasha shrugged, but he did it. If he ran into trouble, I wouldn't be the only one notified.
We rambled along the edge of the small urban forest, considering booths full of random strangeness for sale. As Jas stopped and looked at some item one of the guys was selling, I leaned against a lamppost and tried to feel if the drug Danae had given me was working yet.
Actually, yes it might be.
I glanced over. Jasha was deep in conversation with two girls he seemed to know. (You good?) I asked him. (I might wander off.)
(Ten o'clock, then?) he replied.
(Meet you there.)
I stepped into the trees. The street noise and traffic hum were quieter here. After a bit further, almost nonexistent. Only the sound of music and distant laughter, and the rhythmic susurration of night insects. It gave me chills. My eyes adjusted to the low light, on this trail where the trees were lit with scattered lanterns, no more. Yes, I comprehended what Danae had given. She had lied about not knowing me anymore.
I wasn't surprised at the soft giggle I heard. A couple stood twined together, near the trees. The girl's dress was as iridescent as a dragonfly's wings, and made of layers just as transparent. Both the guy and the woman had that angular, innocent look of west-coast visitors. She caught me watching and held my gaze, considering. Her mate glanced over and smiled.
A tiny twitch of communication passed through their faces. I could see the very moment she made a decision. A slight tightening in the tan neck. I was beginning to want to taste it. She'd be salty as the breeze. Then the man held out his hand to me, pale in the light of the tree's lanterns.
A current of air passed through as I stepped off the path and towards them. Her dress fluttered close to her, and I saw the subtle outline of a hipbone, angled against thin fabric. And I remembered why I'd come out here.
His hand slid into mine, shocking in its warmth. Touch felt even better than being watched. She stood close by me, the colourless shimmer of her dress seeming to float out from the fabric and surround us. And this time there really was a hand stroking my throat, his. Felt so good.
"What are you on?" she murmured to me.
"Five," I breathed back to her, close to her ear.
"Perfect. Will you join us?" She glanced at the guy.
He was looking at me with frank desire, like a flower he wanted to pluck. The woman raised the hem of my shirt and ran her fingers across my bare waist, and I could hardly remember to nod.
We found a place beneath one of the expansive trees that canopied this end of the Park. She spread a cloak down on the soft grass, and we three knelt on it.
They knew a little bit of how it began. I showed them the rest.
Ten o'clock came around too damn fast. I heard the discreet buzz of Jasha's message under my right ear, by her arm, and made a dismayed sound against the man's mouth.
"Wait," I whispered, pulling my hands out of his much-loosened clothing and sitting up, dizzy and sated. "Gotta talk to somebody." He let go of me and the girl whispered something to him I didn't hear. (Jas?) I said.
(Where are you?)
(Under a tree.)
(Could you be more specific?) I heard the smirk in his voice.
(No. Where do you wanna meet?)
(The north gate...Bring them if you want.)
I looked back at the couple. She had his face in her hands and was giggling delightedly. (That’s alright), I said. (I'll be there in a minute.)
I cut the contact and leaned back towards them. She reached for me, and he ran his fingertips down her outstretched arm. "I have to go," I said softly, somewhat wishing I didn't.
"You sure?" she whispered.
I kissed both of their hands, and left them to it.
I met Jas by the gate on the north perimeter of the Park. We took one look at each other's rumpled outfits and laughed. I tried to straighten my poor abused shirt, and gave up. I had a bit more luck with my hair, though the tie I'd had it in this morning was long gone. This would have to do.
It was mercifully cooler inside the nearby club where Danae and her friends were performing. Black interior, with wild float-lights, human bartenders, quantities of soft chairs scattered all over. We were right on time -- the show started not five minutes after we'd bought drinks and found a spot to watch among the milling crowd. As they came out on the small stage and set up a few instruments and props, Danae spotted me and pointed. I made the sign for the number five. She laughed and nodded. Then the lights went out, save for a spotlight on her and another performer, and I sat back to watch.
Her singing was a glorious as ever. Jasha enjoyed it in particular, and almost always attended these small plays when he could. The group took turns acting out skits, breaking into half-improvised songs, or posing in some surreal tableau or another. Typically, it took halfway through the average performance by Danae's troupe before I figured out what the topic even was.
This time, it surprised me.
(Independence,) Jas guessed from beside me. His eyes were fixed on a male performer, leading the audience in trading chants with him.
(I didn't think --) I broke off, and laughed shortly. And look at the audience, they loved it! Suddenly it interested me how many of the crowd were tourists, and how many native. But it was impossible to tell. In the shadows and oblique lighting, all the outfits seemed to blend together into a shimmering school of fish. I didn't know how I felt. Last summer, this subject was nearly taboo. Everything moved so fast, like awakening in an unfamiliar ship already breaking the soundwall.
Independence? Just being raised up to a planet was all I'd ever pondered for Daltia. That alone hadn't happened in all my life.
The show eventually ended, and I applauded along with everyone else. It was all I could do not to think of Zholya's thoughtful dark eyes.
By the time Danae had reemerged from the back with her friends, the pounding music had started up, and we'd all pitched in and shoved the chairs to the perimeter of the space. People began to dance. All the women in the performance troupe were dressed in matching costumes, brushstrokes of coloured light winding around their piled-up hair, and down to cover their eyes like a blindfold. I got Jasha one of the bizarre concoctions he liked -- though I couldn't understand why he drank things that looked to be made in his lab -- and bought Danae's group a round of drinks.
I'd managed to corral a few of my swirling questions. But before I could reach her and ask them, a group of people sitting at the bar caught my attention.
It was their hair. The lights glittered off the close-cropped styles. Or was it their prim posture, as they perched on the barstools? Five or six of them were there, raising their glasses gingerly to their lips and peering around. No one I recognised from this morning's embarrassment, fortunately. But very obviously their counterparts.
I sucked on my teeth, for a moment feeling vicious about their intrusion. Then an idea came to me. I felt my mouth pulling into the type of smile that made my friends worry.
The thumping music covered my footsteps as I made my way silently to them. Two heard me anyway, and turned, a middle-aged man and a younger person of third gender.
"Dance with me," I called, holding out my hand.
So much panicked mental telegraphing between them. I could have laughed. Then they cautiously slid off their chairs and approached. After a moment, a woman, also dressed in those same tight-fitting clothes, joined us.
We reached the edge of the centre space. The wild-lights were slowly drifting down among us like tiny luminescent soap bubbles. They flashed from one twisting body to the next, as liquid and incorporeal as the fountain's figures. If these strange people couldn't relax here, there was no point in them being on this colony.
They could be alone in this crowd. It parted for us when we needed space, and then was back, hot and pressing, when we spun too far out alone. The crowd of dancers hid me, held me. All was black around us, and flashes of purple-white, and I moved. Moved. Moved.
We go through every colour in a night. We go through black. We go through silver. Reflective, spinning, violet and chrome. There’s the blue-black of the velvet sky before dawn, when the streets tilt sideways and people keep yelling in the quiet air, because the club has deafened or exhilarated them. The wet dark green of the grass, beginning to catch the predawn dew, moisture flashing onto your shins. And then the greyish-gold of the dank sand, as you and your friends -- original and acquired -- collapse in a laughing pile by the surf.
There’s the peach hush, as everyone settles down.
There’s the mauve and green flash, as the sky lightens on your silence, the only sound that of the limitless booming waves.
And then there’s the arc of fierce blood orange, birthing itself across the line of the horizon.
Then white behind your eyes, as you spin slowly into sleep, your head pillowed in the soft lap of a person you don’t know, raising their hand-camera to the sky.