Free Selling Out by Justina Robson

in glee.
    Zal reached over without looking anywhere but at Malachi, picked the doll up, and jammed it head down in the liquor between the ice cubes. “If you and your gang of fools does anything to harm or cause to be harmed by accident, omission, or stupidity, one tiny little bit of Lila inside or out I will make you all wish you had never been born.”
    “Likewise,” the faery agreed with a smile.
    They stared at each other and the grass in the glass slowly came apart until it was floating weeds.
    Malachi glanced at it with a moment’s regret. “I can’t take responsibility here. You may pay for that.”
    “I pay for everything,” Zal said sourly. “And I sell out to no one.”
    CHAPTER SIX
    S orcha was thrilled to hear of Lila’s situation when she returned from rehearsals that evening at a quarter past six. Her apartments were next door to Lila’s guest rooms and in typical fashion she wandered between both of them as she went through the lengthy process of undressing, drinking a hot tea, taking a bath, dressing, and changing her makeup for the evening. None of these activities rooted her for more than an instant except the bath, during which she insisted that Lila circulate around the tub, handing her sponges, loofahs, soaps, towels, and alternate glasses of the tea and some cordial she was taking to improve her voice. After the bath, as she patted herself dry and showed no inclination to notice the clock moving inexorably towards half past seven, she stopped interrogating Lila on every detail of the day, flicked her long, black mane over her shoulders, and smiled with warm approval. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”
    Lila felt her spirits sink another notch. She kept finding herself daydreaming about good reasons to return to her own world as she stood there, stinking faintly and feeling demon blood go dry and crackly on her skin. “I’m in this on my own,” Lila said. “Your family aren’t related.”
    “Mmmn,” Sorcha hummed as she rubbed scented oil into her skin. “You’re our guest, honey. And we don’t let guests die. Not on the premises at least. You’re safe here. Safe as you can be.”
    Lila tried to look comforted. Through the open window of the bathroom she could see the glowing orange sun setting over the lagoon. Party boats and flotillas of pleasure craft dotted the open waters with beautiful colour and twinkling lights. In the skies flying jalopies, small personal air balloons, and winged individuals flitted and drifted. Close to the town the canals were alight with lamps and lanterns and the buildings were all outlined in electric fairylights of rainbow hues. Statues stood in arrested motion all along the skylines. The humid air was filled with the hum and swagger of coming night against a background of wild insect thrumming and the chorus of bull-frogs and other creatures inhabiting the darker regions of the vast delta that stood at the city’s back. Occasionally the pulse of so much life was interrupted by the piercing shrieks of unexpected death.
    Lila turned from the view. “You don’t have any words up in lights. Just lights.” She thought a change of subject was in order.
    Sorcha threw everything she had used or that displeased her into the draining bathtub and put on an almost demure outfit of white miniskirt and blouse. She placed a diamond on the arrow point end of her tail and glued it down firmly. “We don’t need words. The colour says it all. Just like on us.” She inspected herself in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction. Her living flame hair moved with a slow motion flow all its own and her eyes gleamed like scarlet coals. Where her skin caught the light it glowed a soft crimson and where it did not it was a soft, pearly black. Superficially she reminded Lila of Malachi and reminded her that she ought to call him back and check in.
    Lila shot a glance into one of Sorcha’s many mirrors and saw herself standing like an automaton. The chrome metal of