За разломом орла

           Greta’swithmewhenIpullSuzyoutofthesurgetank. 

           "Whyher?"Gretaasks. 

           "BecauseIwantheroutfirst,"Isay,wonderingifGreta’sjealous. Idon’tblameher:Suzy’sbeautiful,butshe’salsosmart. Thereisn’tabettersyntaxrunnerinAshantiIndustrial. 

           "Whathappened?"Suzyasks,whenshe’soverthegrogginess. "Didwemakeitback?" 

           Iaskhertotellmethelastthingsheremembers. 

           "Customs,"Suzysays."ThosepricksonArkangel." 

           "Andafterthat?Anythingelse?Therunes?Doyouremembercastingthem?" 

           "No,"shesays,thenpicksupsomethinginmyvoice. ThefactthatImightnotbetellingthetruth,ortellingherallsheneedstoknow. "Thom.I’llaskyouagain.Didwemakeitback?" 

           "Yeah,"Isay."Wemadeitback." 

           Suzylooksbackatthestarscape,airbrushedacrosshersurgetankinluminousvioletandyellowpaint. She’dhaditcustomizedonCarillon. Itwasagainstregs:somethingaboutthepaintcloggingintakefilters. Suzydidn’tcare. Shetoldmeithadcostheraweek’spay,butithadbeenworthittoimposeherownpersonalityonthegreycompanyarchitectureoftheship. 

           "FunnyhowIfeellikeI’vebeeninthatthingformonths." 

           Ishrug. "That’sthewayitfeelssometimes." 

           "Thennothingwentwrong?" 

           "Nothingatall." 

           SuzylooksatGreta. "Thenwhoareyou?"sheasks. 

           Gretasaysnothing. Shejustlooksatmeexpectantly. Istartshaking,andrealizeIcan’tgothroughwiththis.Notyet. 

           "Endit,"ItellGreta. 

           GretastepstowardSuzy.