Free Husk by J. Kent Messum Page B

shattering glass comes, drinks hitting the floor as people get shoved. An alarmed cry follows, then a series of angry shouts. Ryoko grabs me in thedark, pulling me close. I slip a hand around her waist and hold her tight. All kinds of crazy things have happened, and have been rumoured to happen, in these rolling blackouts. When the power comes back on, sometimes theft or assault has occurred. Occasionally there is a corpse.
    ‘I love you,’ I whisper.
    The lights reactivate as if on cue, and I catch Ryoko mouthing the words back to me, tryingthem on for size. Immediately she puts a hand over her mouth, eyes shutting shamefully over dropping her guard. She’s trained herself to avoid toying with emotion. I want to tell her it’s all right, that there’s no need to keep me at arm’s length. I try to touch her face, stroke her hair, something. She pulls away before I can, the movement slight, maybe only an inch, but enough to put some coldbetween us.
    There is a loud yelp as a bouncer wearing sunglasses strong-arms some dude at the other end of the bar, mercifully drawing our attention away from our awkward moment. We watch as the culprit gets hauled out of the place and thrown onto the street. Craig swings by our spot at the bar.
    ‘What happened?’ I ask.
    ‘The guy was trying to steal tips in the blackout,’ Craig says. ‘First thingwe expect to happen around here whenthe power fails. Shit, we gotta stay vigilant even with the lights on these days.’
    ‘How’d they catch him?’ Ryoko asks.
    I point at the bouncer. ‘That guy’s not wearing sunglasses at night because he’s some Corey Hart fan.’
    Ryoko frowns. ‘I don’t get it.’
    ‘For crying out loud,’ Craig says, giving me a less than amused look. ‘No one listens to eighties music,dude.’
    ‘Everyone should listen to the eighties. It was the peak of civilization.’
    ‘Oh, don’t start.’
    ‘Just saying.’
    ‘Night-vision lenses,’ Craig says, turning back to Ryoko. ‘Things go dark in here, and security gets instant cat-eyes.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Military-grade gear, very hard to come by.’
    ‘I want a pair of those.’
    ‘No you don’t,’ Craig says. ‘They damage optic nerves if you use them toomuch, give you retinal cancer. Kinda like those augmented-reality glasses did before they were all pulled off the market.’
    Ryoko casts another glance at the bouncers. The sunglasses have been either put away or pushed up on their crowns. I remember back when augmented-reality glasses were all the rage, before it came to light that the eyewear was watching and recording everything for third partieswhile slowly blinding you at the same time, everyone donning little toxic invasions of privacy that could be exploited. Walking into any establishment while wearing a pair nowadays will get you beat the fuck up in NYC.
    ‘Can I get you good-looking kids another round?’ Craig asks.
    We both nod and Craig fetches us more tequila. I check the time on my Liaison and see there is a notification abouta person of interest in proximity. The link shows me Phineas is in the area, at a restaurant only a couple blocks away. I message him to come meet us if he’s free. The message I get back says he’s on his way.
    Ten minutes later I’m surprised to see Phineas enter the front doors of the Rochester with Nikki, the receptionist, in tow. He spots us instantly and leads her by the hand through the crowd.Ryoko greets both of them with a hug and kiss. Nikki looks happy to see me, much to my surprise. I embrace her. She tells me I’m looking good. I must admit that she is too. Whatever tension there might have been between us before seems to have evaporated.
    I order a round of shots for everyone as Ryoko and Nikki indulge in some chatter. The girls have always gotten along well. The smiles betweenthem are plentiful and genuine. Phineas saddles up next to me at the bar and leans over, speaking in a lowered voice, answering my question before I even