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“Yeah,” he said. “I got a girl.”
This admission seemed to please Mr. Cabrera, like he’d been worried about Diego’s happiness. “Good,” he said. “You go see her. Take that money and buy her di
Diego looked at the money on the table. After a pause, he reached over and took it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELIANA
Eliana paced around her apartment, drinking watery Hope City tea and smoking a cigarette. Three days had passed since Lady Luna—no, Marianella—had showed up at the office covered in ice, but Eliana hadn’t heard from her once. She’d checked the papers, looking for mentions of her and finding only stories about unrest on the mainland and food shortages in the domes.
Isn’t that your fucking job, Cabrera? Eliana had thought. Bringing us food? She’d tossed the newspaper aside.
Probably what had happened was Marianella got her house security sorted out, and she was holed up in one of those big airy rooms drinking coffee with cream and pla
Eliana probably wouldn’t answer her phone either.
In addition to trying to get ahold of Marianella, Eliana had looked over the photograph of the andie. She’d even called up the train station to learn what times the trains went into the amusement park (not often, as it turned out—only three times a day, morning, noon, and night).
Three days, nearly two hundred dollars on the line. Nothing to show for it.
She could always suck it up, keep saving. Other jobs would come along—they always did. But she didn’t want to turn this job down, even though something about Mr. Gonzalez left her unsettled. It wasn’t just the way his eyes didn’t seem real. He swore he didn’t have anything to do with Cabrera, and she was willing to believe him. But there were other factions in the city, other dangers. Still, it was a lot of money, and if she could face down Cabrera—well, she was willing to risk it.
Eliana pulled out the photograph of Sofia and sat beside her window, balancing the picture on her knee. She smoked the last of her cigarette, cracked the window, tossed the butt out to the street below. Bad habit. She did it anyway.
Cold air trickled into the apartment, and Eliana looked down at the photograph, which continued to tell her nothing. She looked out her window, at the gray building across the street.
She had to do something. She couldn’t just sit on this until Mr. Gonzalez came back asking about it.
She was just going to have to go to the amusement park.
She tapped her fingers on the glass, considering. The thought of going into the park made her skin crawl. She’d grown up with stories about the amusement park all her life, and when you hear something all your life, it’s pretty hard to shake it. The robots there were feral, dangerous. You could only trust the maintenance drones put out by the city.
Eliana took a deep breath and checked the time. Ten forty-five. She could still make the noon train. So she changed into some of her nicer clothes and put on a little makeup and tucked the photograph into her purse.
Then she knelt beside her bed and pulled out the cheap little safe where she kept her revolver. She counted the bullets—all accounted for. She’d only ever shot the thing at a target. But this was the amusement park. And she’d heard too many stories.
At first Eliana put the gun in her purse, but then she thought about it for a moment and stuck it into the inside pocket of her jacket. It bumped against her waistline as she walked down the stairs and out onto the street.
She waited at the station for almost forty-five minutes, sitting on the bench with her hands folded in her lap as the usual city trains pulled into the station and then departed from the station on great clouds of steam. The humidity curled her hair, and the air smelled like metal and damp. Everyone ignored her.
And then, right as the bells of the church rang out noon, the amusement park train slid up against the platform.
It was rattling and run-down and painted with faded murals like the cruise ships. Peeling penguins and icebergs and starry nights. Eliana stood up. A crowd had gathered, but none of them looked at the train with any interest, and none of them climbed on board with her.
The car was empty. Eliana took a seat and gazed out the window at the station, her breath clouding the glass. She thought about a time as a child when she and a gang of kids from her school had trekked down to the amusement park wall one summer afternoon and dared each other to run up and touch the bricks. Eliana had gone first. She’d always been brave when she was younger. The bricks were cold to the touch, and her terror had transformed into a waterfall of hysterical giggles when she’d turned around and seen all her friends gaping at her.
“Approaching park entrance.” The a
Eliana peered out the window, but all she could see in the darkened glass was her reflection. The train was slowing down. She gripped her purse and took a deep breath.
The train rumbled to a stop. The lights flickered twice and then stayed on, brighter than before.
The doors screeched open and Eliana stepped out onto the abandoned platform. She could see how it had once been part of an amusement park: the murals of Antarctic animals greeted her from the walls, and on the platform was a line of wrought-iron metal benches that stretched out into the shadows. But the murals were faded and the benches covered in dust, and for a moment Eliana considered turning around and walking back into the train.
She didn’t.
She followed the faded arrows to the exit sign. The wooden escalator was frozen in place, and she took the steps carefully, one hand pressed against the railing, the other dangling beside the bulge in her coat that contained her gun. A point of light glimmered up ahead—street level. The park.
When she stepped out into the floodlights, the air was cold and still. The buildings all threw off sparkles of white light. Eliana tucked her hand into her pocket and touched the cold metal of the gun.
She had no idea which direction to go in.
After standing stupidly for a moment, listening for the sounds of approaching robots and hearing nothing, she decided to follow the amusement park signs. They were strung up on candy-striped poles and painted with the same white glitter as everything else. They directed her to attractions—the Antarctic Mountain, the Haunted Ice Forest, the petting zoo, the Fairy-Tale Village. Eliana remembered the story about the decapitated head on the roller coaster and shivered. She decided to go to the Fairy-Tale Village. If anyone was living in this place, robot or human, it made sense that they would be in a village.
Sometimes you had to stalk a neighborhood and stay under cover of shadows, and sometimes you just had to walk in like you owned the place.
Eliana marched along the faded path, listening to the dull click of her footsteps. The stillness u
The path curved. Eliana found herself in a forest of metal trees, their trunks and branches painted white. A handful of the trees were hung with glittering, brightly colored leaves, pinks and purples and blues and greens. Eliana stopped and tapped one of the leaves. It was made of glass and it swung back and forth, throwing off sunlight.