--Sally Corin, 2057
***
As I mulled over the chances of Trinidom double-booking me, I toweled off, then stepped out into my bedroom still dressed only in my armor.
“I’m out of clothes.” Tara’s non sequitur jerked my mind out of my concerns and to the current situation.
“I don’t think my clothes will fit you. Did you have a solution in mind?” I replied with a half smile. She leaned half into my bedroom, gripping the frame between us. Her eyes darted over the floor, the wall, anywhere but at me while a slight blush crept over her cheeks.
“There’s some at my apartment, but I don’t know if it’s safe to go there.” Her fingers turned white where she gripped the frame, an anchor to keep from fleeing, but her shoulders and back were straight in determination.
“I can come with you and make sure it’s safe?” I asked. She nodded, still not looking my way. “We can drop by Ginny’s place and grab a Chibat so you can keep an eye on it once we’re done there.”
“The SuperEye would be better.” She replied before turning to pick up a few things. Knowing that I and one of the drones would be there seemed to help, and she stood taller as we locked up and left.
It turned out that Tara did not live in the same M-com as Ginny and I, but another within walking distance. Her landlord’s neglect of the tenants showed in a number of ways, from the entrances that didn’t even have security cameras, through the distinct lack of security guards, to the wary expressions on the few tenants we passed by.
At least we had moved away from the gang tags by the time we reached her floor. I could tell we were close when she slowed down and started squeezing my arm.
“Move the drone up and check it out before we go in,” I said while still a corner away and out of sight.
The spider drone dropped down and skittered forward. In my visor, I watched the feed as Tara maneuvered the drone along the wall opposite the doorway. The thin veneer around the handle was smothered in silver tape, a cheap repair so the latch could keep the door closed but laughably insecure.
The drone crossed the ceiling and slipped its probe in the gap at the top of the door. Several pieces of tipped furniture were spread across the living room. “You didn’t let them take you easily, did you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “They drugged me before the taser wore off. I was still in the bedroom.” She trembled in fear while looking away for a second. Drawing in a deep breath, she continued, “The mess is probably from looters. Mrs. Wilsers said she found the door open, closed it, and put in a repair request.”
“Mrs. Wilsers?”
“My advisor.”
I nodded. Considering the neighborhood, an unsecure door amounted to an open invitation for anyone to take what they wanted. The slam of a distant door rattled through the walls, then the building hushed again into a waiting silence. I quickly double-checked each direction and listened to the hushed silence of the building, expecting someone to jump out at us.
With the teen in tow, I moved up to the door and slowly opened it. I could feel her trembling as she pressed against me, and the sound of her rapid breathing filled the empty corridor.
The doorway opened into a tiny apartment, maybe half the size of my own. The two-seat couch that might have once filled the back wall now dominated the room where it lay at a slant with its feet skyward. The tatters of the underlayer splayed open like a smashed flower.
The other few pieces of furniture were also overturned, shelves emptied, and cushions thrown every which way. The half-sized refrigerator had been thrown on its side, fortunately with the door still shut.
I cycled my visor through the spectra as I scanned. The only heat source in deep infrared was the fridge, and there were no odd textures in the near infrared. When a final scan using the lidar showed no signs of tripwires or unexpected electronics, I flipped on the light.
“Go ahead and send in the drone,” I said. Back during the incursion, Tara had seemed stronger once she had the drones to control. I hoped that would carry over now and steady taut nerves. The spider drone entered and climbed the wall to scan the small apartment.
It was clear to me that the only place left for anyone to hide was in the bedroom, but this wasn’t about me. Tara needed to be sure, or she would never have the courage to enter. The bot circled the room several times before she said it was clear.
I let Tara push me into the room ahead of her and towards the bedroom, two hands pressing on my back, thrusting me forward. Two steps in, she snatched them back, as if scalded. The looters had been just as ruthless in the bedroom. Her mattress and frame slumped on the wall, and half her cinderblock and board shelves had been knocked down. The dresser drawers and their contents lay in a pile, just a few feet away from where the closet door hung on one broken hinge.
I made a show of thoroughly searching the space, with her bot looking over my shoulder. When I didn’t find any ninjas hiding in the closet or buried in her pile of belongings, I returned to the front door and let her know it was clear. She still trembled but took a couple of steps into the apartment. I wanted to hug her and spare her from going through this, but something in the way her eyes darted around or in how she tightly hugged herself prevented me from doing so. My mind told me that she needed to do this herself, but my instincts wanted to protect her. My frustration and uncertainty added a hint of sharpness to my tone as I asked, “Do you want me with you? Or at the door? Or helping out?”
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“Close the door, and stay with me,” Tara spoke softly, barely above a whisper. The spider drone moved to the opposite side of the hallway ceiling from the door.
“I’ll be right here, and I’m monitoring the drone’s feed.” I softened my voice, forcing it low and keeping it gentle.
She cast about, unsure where to start, before finally moving towards the bedroom. She froze in the doorway, shaking so badly I worried that her legs would collapse. I touched her shoulder with my fingertips, applying just enough pressure to remind her that I had her back.
“They’re gone,” I said gently, “and they are not coming back. You’re safe.”
Still she hesitated, caught in her own inner battle. My free hand clenched on my battle harness, and I wished there was anything I could do to help. A little more frustration bled out as I suggested, “I could grab things if you direct me?”
She shook her head and took a tiny step, then another. A couple more hesitant steps and, like a snapped spring, she rushed to the pile in front of the closet. From deep underneath, she dragged out a bag into which she thrust clothes, not bothering with folding, and hissing when a hanger caught on the zipper. Then she attacked the pile from the dresser, stuffing more into the bag until its seams bulged. As she dove under the closet pile for a second bag, she snorted deeply, and I could see tears running down her cheeks.
As she worked, I mentally sent a text message to my mother, describing the situation and asking for advice.
Me: It’s breaking my heart. She’s so strong at times, but right now, her own home terrifies her.
Sally: I know it’s the most frustrating advice, but the best you can do is be there.
S: Follow her lead and let her determine what she needs. She’s the one that suggested this visit, right?
M: Yes. I know better than to push her. You raised me better than that.
S: Ok, be sure to offer her choices, whether that’s highlighting what options she already has or how you can help.
S: Beyond that, all you can do is reinforce that she’s safe and help her to find her strength.
I thought about the apartment tour we had planned for later on, and an idea came to me. I bounced it off my mother, and she approved but warned me I’d get a lot of teasing from my sister.
***
“What do you mean, roommates?” Kaitlyn repeated her question, pulling me back to the present.
“I helped Tara collect some things from her place this morning, and I don’t see her ever being comfortable living there again. She was…more than frightened. I wouldn’t want to live in that dangerous an environment. I was thinking of asking if she wanted something more long-term. But I’m not sure how to bring it up.”
“She seems a sensible person; just ask her.”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to accidentally lead her on. She’s just a kid. A mature one that’s seen her share and more, but still a kid. I think that she’s just clinging to a protector, but I can’t tell if there’s more or not. I’d rather block a crush from forming than have to disappoint a friend. I don’t know what that would do to her to lose a crush right now.”
Kaitlyn nodded as she twiddled with one of the plants, not looking at me. “What does it take to get that firearms permit for Portera?”
Caught off guard by the change of subject, I took a second to reply. “The only requirements are your Basic Safety Standard certification and the money for the permit, which is not cheap.” I mentioned the current rate for the permit. “The BSS class is government sponsored, so it only costs a couple RIS points. If you have problems with the exam, I can help you prepare for it.”
Her shoulders sagged as if a weight had returned. “I could probably handle the BSS, but not the permit,” she muttered to herself. “Would they take RIS instead?”
“As large as Portera is, they might. The taxes on this place have to be astronomical. You were thinking of exercising your right?” Every citizen had a right to protect themselves, whether that meant carrying a pistol, sword, or rocket launcher. The permit required by Portera was only legal due to a loophole in the application of the law.
“Ginny’s not the only one with roommates that don’t get what we went through. I didn’t sleep well the last couple of nights. Every time someone came or went, I woke up and had to get up and check that they locked the door each time. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I never used to worry about that. I thought I might feel safer if I had something for home defense, but the cost of the permit...” She turned to the plants again, her face troubled.
I nodded in sympathy. From comments I’d overheard from the guards, they deliberately priced the permit out of the reach of most tenants. The only reason I had a permit was because I could trade instruction for it. If I had to pay outright, I’d store my gear at work or move out. “I could set aside a room for you, if you want,” I said. “I wonder if Ginny would also be interested? And having several people move in might seem more innocent.”
“A single Samurai—a single male Samurai having multiple women move in with him? That’s not going to set off the tabloids at all; why do you ask?” Sarcasm dripped from her words. Meanwhile, Corie started humming a tune directly to me from a hit in the mid-2040s. Many thought the song alluded to having multiple partners at once.
--What’s the matter? It’s a good song!
While my AI mentally sent me a giggling shrug, I answered Kaitlyn’s question. “In that case, I guess it would be good for one of us to know how to care for the living screen, right?” I waved my hand at the plants strewn around the balcony. “Seriously, we’re already looking at making this place a fortress; no one’s going to blink at my having some extra weapons hanging around.”
“And you think having some live-in chaperones might keep Tara’s hero worship from growing out of control.”
“I won’t deny that plus from my perspective. But I think it will help you and Ginny too.”
“Maybe. There are complications with the university we’d have to deal with. Let me think about it.”
“Fair. At the very least, I’ll set aside an office for social media stuff. Not sure what use that would be, but everyone needs a place to work. One for Ginny too.”
“We’ll see.”