Then she pushed him away and started across the street without him. A hungry taxi-drone paused on its eternal run down the central guidestrip, and Maxine waved it on. Sound-loops triggered by their passing cajoled, promising the finest in services and goods, the ultimate in intimate experience. She steered him further down the street, past the fluxing, beckoning projections that lined Pacific Coast Highway. "Let's not talk about it," she said huskily. Maxine ran her fingertips over his heavy eyebrows, the puffy rise of his cheeks, down to the fine wire stubble on his chin. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and you just fell out of nowhere." You just fell into my lap and turned everything around." His low, rough voice almost cracked, belying his twenty-eight years. But you-" His eyes ravished her for the thousandth time: the maddening curves of her body, the face that seemed a master's collage of ovals and crescents "You're the only thing that doesn't fit. "Because fighting is all I know, and they need dudes who don't mind killing each other for money. Barely a handful of stars shone through the overcast night sky. Any idiot who can thump heads wants to ride the big rocket, do his thing up there in the clouds." He stopped, looking up in wonder. He nodded, satisfaction and pride replacing unease. She felt the tension in the air and dissolved it with a chuckle. Your life is headed for big changes." There was something in her voice that made him uneasy, and he squinted at her in puzzlement. He took her hand as they walked through the naked body of the belly dancer. "I don't know if I've ever said that to anybody." He roiled the words past his lips again, savoring. "You make me happy." He shook his massive head in wonder. "You shouldn't waste water like that." He laughed, spinning her into his arms for a long, deep kiss. She pretended to gather a handful of the "foam" and sling it at him. The phantom waves splashed by the waterbike brought a smile back to Aubry's face, as if a long-abandoned memory were stirring to life. They walked through the marching shoe with only a slight flinch as the hologram came down on their heads. She ran the edge of her tongue into his mouth. Home is where the needle marks Try to heal my broken heartĪnd it might not be such a bad idea If I never went home again. Home was once an empty vacuum That's filled now with my silent screams. Lyrics from "Home Is Where the Hatred Is" copyright © 1976 byīrouhaha Music. All the characters and events portrayed in thisīook are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events isĪll rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or
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