Free Meridian Days by Eric Brown

accelerated from the bay in the direction of Abe's island.
    I remained on the patio until the shield appeared in the distance, presaging the fall of night. Over Darkside, the stars slowly brightened in the darkness of deep space, but tonight the sight left me curiously untroubled.
    I returned to the lounge, sat down and considered the sachet of frost I had prepared for Fire.

    ~

    One hour later, as twilight descended, I cast off from the jetty and steered the launch out across the open sea towards Trevellion's island.
    The crossing was calm. At this time in the evening, with the leading edge of the orbital shield rapidly shutting out the sunlight, the sea had the peculiar property of being lighter than the sky as it reflected the aurora of Brightside. As the darkness deepened, the ocean took on the colour of blood. Thirty minutes after setting out, I manoeuvred the launch around Trevellion's island, a dark wedge of land studded with the occasional laser sculpture and objet d' art scintillating in the dying light. On the summit of the island, Trevellion's dome glowed like a diamond. The thought that she might have seen my arrival, and so would not allow Fire to meet me, created a hard knot of apprehension in my chest.
    I steered into the cove, which Fire had pointed out last night, and moored the launch to a tumbledown pier. A sandy footpath rounded the headland to the bay where we had arranged to meet.
    I followed the path and paused when I came to the beach. In the light of the stars I made out the small figure of Fire Trevellion. She was strolling along the margin of wet sand beside the sea, with a negligence born of either boredom or dejection. She wore a pair of shorts and a halter top, and she carried a thin computer board. From time to time she paused, allowing the incoming waves to foam around her ankles, consulted the glowing screen and then continued strolling, addressing words to the ocean.
    I walked across the sand and followed her footsteps. Fire paused again, but this time tossed the computer board up the beach as if she had had quite enough of that for one night. She stared out to sea, her hands pocketed behind her. As I approached, she turned suddenly without moving her legs, and the torque of her torso was at once awkward and becoming. Her smile was genuine. "Mr Benedict, I thought you'd never get here."
    I was, perhaps, ten minutes late — but I was realistic enough to realise that her pleasure at seeing me had more to do with the promise of frost than anything else.
    I indicated the computer board, projecting from the sand like a headstone. "What were you reciting?"
    "Nothing interesting. Only poetry." She smiled. "I'm glad you came."
    Her long hair was gathered and tied in a pony-tail. I noticed that the pink material of her halter top and shorts had the worn, second-hand look of hand-me-downs, and I wondered if they had once belonged to her mother, before her alteration.
    As if uneasy under my scrutiny, she looked away, up the hillside, to where the apex of the lighted dome could just be seen. She took my arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Come on. If Tamara comes out she'll see us. Can you imagine what she might say...?" We hurried across the beach to a path which continued around the island.
    "My mother likes only invited guests to visit. She even has security men guarding the island. It's okay, though," she reassured me, "they're patrolling the marina tonight. I hope you aren't angry with me for putting you in this situation?"
    I laughed. "Of course I'm not. I'm glad to be here."
    I could tell that Fire was nervous. Her chatter was an attempt to disguise the fact. "If Tamara asks me where I've been when I get in, I'll... I'll say that I needed a long walk to learn the lines. I can recite most of them off by heart already, so she can't complain."
    Not for the first time I wanted to tell her to forget her mother.
    Once out of sight of the dome, we slowed and strolled along the cliff-top path. Fire said,