Z 2134

pungent.
    How do people drink this stuff?
    She looked through the glass, marveling at the deep crimson, much deeper than her own drink, which was almost pink, diluted by the slivers of melting ice. Michael’s drink was so dark it looked like blood. She dared a sip, then nearly spit the sip back into the cup. If Ana was alone she would have, but if she spit, onlookers would laugh, so she swallowed the bitter liquid, then set the glass back on the table and pushed it to the other side.
    Wow! That tasted like cat piss!
    “You have to swallow faster,” a voice behind her said.
    She turned to see the old black man again, motioning toward the chair.
    “May I?” he asked.
    “Sure,” Ana nodded, feigning indifference, which she figured was better than seeming too eager, or too easy a mark. That was one of the lessons her father taught her long ago, back before whatever turned him into a monster had done its dark work.
    “You have to watch out for opportunists,” her father had said. “They’re always around, and always have an angle. Disarm them by never letting them know you’re interested in their pitch.”
    “My name is Duncan,” the old man said. “I’d shake your hand, but I prefer not to draw any glances to the fact that we’re just meeting.” He winked, but there was nothing untoward in it.
    She folded her arms across her chest, “Well, you already know my name, it seems. Wanna tell me how?”
    “I knew Jonah,” he said.
    Ana resisted the urge leave The Social that second. “So, what, does that mean you’re with The Underground?”
    “Well, we don’t go around calling it that, especially in mixed company,” he said, eyes again flitting around the bar. “But, yes. And let me tell you, Anastasia, you don’t want any more attention from City Watch. What did you tell them?”
    “The truth, like you said.”
    “What did they ask?”
    She told him.
    Duncan nodded.
    “So,” she asked, “did I get Liam in trouble?”
    “Probably no more than he usually gets himself in. That boy is too reckless.”
    “No shit,” Ana said.
    Duncan burst out laughing, surprised by either Ana’s candor or choice of words.
    “You’re a lot like him, you know.”
    “Like Liam?”
    “Well, him too. But no, I meant your dad.”
    She ignored the compliment, assuming it was one. “So, how did you know him? My dad. Was he with you all?”
    “Yes,” Duncan said. “But we met when we were both on City Watch.”
    Ana nodded. “And what, you think he’s some sorta hero or something?” She tried to keep from rolling her eyes.
    “I don’t think he did what you think he did, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “I saw him do it,” Ana said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. This was the first time she’d told anyone other than Michael, Adam, or the law what she’d seen. “Though I do love how everyone thinks they know better than me.”
    “You’ve gotta understand: people looked up to your father, and most who know him can’t believe he would ever kill your mother.” Duncan shook his head. “He wasn’t that sort of man. He loved her. He loved you, and your brother.”
    Ana looked down because she couldn’t keep looking into Duncan’s eyes without wanting to cry. “You think I wanna see him that way?” she said. “He was my dad . He was the world to me. But I was there, and I saw what he did. And I see it every time I close my eyes. And anyone who says he is innocent is calling me a damned liar.”
    Duncan smiled, a hint of sympathy like a shadow in his eyes, as if he were talking to someone too stupid to understand what he was saying.
    Ana grabbed the Red Bomb and took a long gulp, swallowing without tasting, then slammed the empty glass on the tabletop a bit louder than she’d intended. The alcohol was awful, but she hoped the burn in her throat would numb the pounding in her head.
    She stood to leave.
    Duncan said, “You’re not a liar, but you are lying.”
    “What?” she said, her voice rising in pitch while climbing an octave. Before Duncan could answer, Ana decided she didn’t care what he had to say. “Just leave me alone.”
    Ana rose from the table and headed toward the exit before Duncan could issue another word. She pushed through the doors and stepped into the bustling, frigid City street, crowded with walkers and carts and the omnipresent City Watch orbs; floating, watching, forever monitoring the streets for any sign of dissent or crime.
    Somewhere above the towering