Under Dark Sky Law (25 page)

The reconstructed Café du Monde was almost
every bit the same as she remembered it, complete with the
lingering smell of urine that wafted in off the street into the
outdoor tent portion of the coffee shop. New Orleans had some
problems that other domes just didn’t. The weather was her first
clue that shit wasn’t right. Since most domes spent a considerable
amount of their resources controlling the air quality and
environment inside, they also bothered to keep tight control over
the weather and other things of that nature. Natural sunlight could
penetrate the dome, but some cities like Seattle even tried to
recreate the weather of the old world by providing simulated rain
and fog. New Orleans on the other hand felt much more like a flat
than a true dome. It was far too cold, but simultaneously humid and
foggy. She knew that New Orleans was not one of the simulated rain
domes, but if it had been, she would have fully expected for it be
raining. Part of her wanted to believe it was because New Orleans
was trying to mimic the approach of the Seattle dome by trying to
provide some realistic old world weather patterns, but she knew
that wasn’t the case. They didn’t have that kind of capital,
resources, or support.

They marched through the humid air with its
oddly organic gutter stench and into the green and white striped
tent of the café. A woman was sitting at one of the black iron
tables. Dark brown eyes glared at them from a heart-shaped face
that had perfectly smooth skin. Her voluminous dreadlocks were
rolled into tight, even partitions that fell into a neatly tied
pony tail at her shoulders. The edge of her long layered white
dress flapped in breeze, leading Xero to wonder where exactly that
breeze was coming from. Did the dome have a small leak? Had New
Orleans gotten funding for better dome weather simulations when she
hadn’t been paying attention?

The woman stood when they went through the
iron gate. Xero was surprised at the lack of security given the
current political climate, but then again, New Orleans had always
done things its own way. More personnel could be hiding in the
shadows, waiting on all the convenient balconies of the resurrected
plantation houses. All they needed was a sign, and everyone could
be dead in seconds. At least that’s how Xero would have staged it,
and she knew from experience that Voodoo was no fool.

“Xero. We meet again,” the woman said and
walked towards the group.

Xero was at the head of the group, with
Neptune and Radar forming the middle and Milo pulling up the rear
of a diamond shape. Xero held out her hand, “Enchanté,” she said.
“How have you been, Voodoo?”

Voodoo stared at her hand, but didn’t shake
it. She moved her gaze to the rest of the band. “Didn’t I tell Xed
that I just wanted to deal with you?” she said.

Xero put her hands on her hips. “If you did,
that directive never made it’s way down to our itinerary,” she
said. “Is that going to be a problem?” She was proud of herself for
maintaining the diplomacy. A lot of literal blood had been spilled
between the two of them in the past, and she was trying to keep the
image of Trina in her mind to motivate her to stay cordial. She was
the leader. She had to set a good example and keep the rest of her
crew in line at the same time.

Voodoo crinkled up her full lips into a loose
pucker. “I don’t like it when my directives are disobeyed, but
because I am wise and merciful, I will grant you a compromise. You
may keep your crew in this outer tent area, but only you may
accompany me inside,” she said, pointing at Xero.

Xero held up a hand behind her, silently
telling Neptune to shut it for the moment, knowing that she wanted
to come out with a sonic retort or physical attack that would knock
Voodoo on her ass. “That is not an issue. They will wait here and
the two of us can speak inside,” she said.

Neptune grumbled and hissed, but somehow
managed to hold her tongue.

Xero turned around to address her crew. “Stay
here for the time being. When I give you the signal, we may
reconvene, or if you sense that harm has come to me that would end
my life, you may enter the inner hall, but not before that. If I am
in distress, but it does not appear to be immediately lethal, do
not disturb us. You will cause more trouble than you will solve,”
she said.

“This is bullshit!” Neptune yelled. “I can’t
do my job under these conditions—you’re asking me to let you walk
into a situation where it sounds like you know that you’ll be
harmed. What in the fuck is up with that?”

Voodoo whirled around, her dreadlocks and
skirt snapping in a self-created dust devil. “So crass. All of you
have always been so disgusting and vulgar, such a lack of tact. I’m
not sad that you’ve been banned from the domes this whole time,”
she said.

“I regret that you are still not eager to let
us enjoy your beautiful city, but that is of course your
prerogative. We thank you for considering our request for trade
relations,” she said and wanted to give herself a pat on the back
for being so fucking cordial.

Voodoo just folded her arms and sneered. Xero
cracked a smile and nodded towards the indoor area of the café.
“So, you wanna dance?” she said.

“Yes, I do. Follow me,” she said and walked
inside, leaving her crew to organize themselves on the patio.

“Do not go in there,” Neptune said, her body
as rigid as one of the street performers pretending to be a statue
that dotted Bourbon Street.

“Look Neptune, it’s not the safest thing I’ve
ever done, but it’s also definitely not the most dangerous. I
appreciate your caution as always, but do you really think that
bitch is going to get the upper hand? I will drop that whore if she
so much as comes near me,” Xero said.

Neptune exhaled and hung her head. “You’re
right boss, I know you can take on just about anyone and come out
on top. I just don’t trust that slimy fuck. For all I know she’s
got an alligator pit that she’s ready to dump you into,” she
said.

“Nah, if she really didn’t want us here, she
wouldn’t have let us inside the in the first place. She wants the
goods. She’s just going to be a pain in the ass about it. We have
to play ball, or we risk losing the chance to save Trina,” she
said. She purposely avoided Milo’s gaze when mentioning Trina. She
had to ready herself for a battle, and sympathy wasn’t something
that had any place in her psyche for that moment.

“Alright, but if I hear one fucking thing
outta line from in there, we’re going in guns blazing,” Neptune
said.

They staged themselves in decent positions on
the porch, a surprisingly moist breeze blowing hard through the
tent canopy and carrying with it some putrid scents that smelled
more like the flats then a newly renovated dome. New Orleans never
could catch a break, and in some ways she sympathized with Voodoo
and her shitty attitude.

“Good luck,” Radar said. “Kick some ass so I
don’t have to do my electric eel impression in the middle of a
dome.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.
Time to play,” she said.

CHAPTER 24

The space inside the Café was small, just
like it had been in the old world. The back wall had the
traditional green and white striped wallpaper juxtaposed with a
dark creamy beige paint on the other walls. The kitchen staff had
vacated or were hiding out in the back of the kitchen. Voodoo had
pushed tables and chairs back to the wall, leaving an open space in
the middle of the cramped room. She was leaning against a stainless
steel counter underneath green wallpaper where the wall was cut out
to reveal part of the kitchen.

“This looks authentic,” Xero said.

Voodoo didn’t move. “It is. The French
Quarter has always been fortunate when it comes to weathering the
storm. The outside walls of this building were demolished in the
tidal waves, but the core survived. Almost everything in here is
made from existing materials. Welcome to a true piece of history,”
she said.

Xero looked around, appreciating the old
green and white menus and display cases of merchandise tucked into
the walls of the small room. “I always did like this place,” she
said. “I used to come here all the time when I was in college,
before the dome restrictions.”

Voodoo raised her eyebrows. “A lowlife like
you went to college?” she said.

“Yes. Believe it or not, I’m a doctor. Means
I can patch you up after I poke a few holes in you,” she said and
winked.

Voodoo’s jaw tightened. “That ain’t going to
happen,” she said, slipping into casual speech, and Xero knew that
it was working. She was getting under her skin, fucking up her
game.

“Of course you can always spare yourself the
trouble and just forget this silly little duel. We come in
peace—all we want to do is enjoy your fine city and do some good
business with you and your associates,” Xero said.

“Business out here ain’t so simple like
that,” Voodoo said.

“Not to make you think I’m a coward or
anything like that, but you don’t think having a fight in the
middle of the day in the middle of a major café isn’t going to
attract some kind of unwanted attention? I’m a stranger here to the
new way New Orleans is running, but in the other domes I deal with,
that kind of thing isn’t exactly tolerated,” she said.

Voodoo sneered at her again, her arms
shooting out to grip the edges of the stainless steel counter. “New
Orleans isn’t anything like the domes you’re used to. On paper
we’re a dome, but in reality we’re abandoned, just like we’ve
always been abandoned. On paper it’s all government controlled, but
in reality I’m the leader of the French Quarter. People here do
what I tell them to do,” she said.

Xero nodded. “I can understand that
sentiment,” she said.

“How could you possibly understand anything.
You’re nothing but a beast, a greedy filthy lying monster. How
could you possibly understand anything like suffering? How can you
possibly understand how we’ve been neglected and used in this city
for decades? Even in the old world it was always made clear that
we’re on our own down here,” she said.

“Lady, you ever been to Tucson? My town ain’t
never been right either. No one would have even thought to put a
dome down there. We always were and always will be in the fringes,”
she said.

“And yet you poisoned my town. You burned my
people’s flesh. You don’t give a shit about anything other than
your precious money,” she said.

Xero shrugged. “Money is power. You know that
as well as I do, or I wouldn’t even be here in the first place. You
wouldn’t have let me in if you didn’t want what I have to offer,”
she said.

Voodoo took a step forward, her hands curled
into claws and stretched out in front of her. “There are people
dying in here. New Orleans is suffering, the air quality isn’t good
enough to keep some of the older people alive,” she said.

Ah. Now it made sense. That was why they
wanted the Alphamine. “It’s a tradeoff to be sure. More people will
live. Alphamine will improve their lung function, but it’s
addictive as fuck, and you’ll still see some of the same problems
you have with any other recreational drug. But it’s your choice.
It’s a controlled environment—even if I really wanted to, it would
be hard to saturate this area with Alphamine if you didn’t want it
to be imported,” Xero said.

Voodoo’s eyes bulged. “Choice? I have no
choice. I can’t sit still while people die,” she said.

“And you can’t get the government to shore up
the problems in the air filtration and climate control system,”
Xero said.

Voodoo’s clawed fingers flexed and she pulled
her eyes tight enough that her forehead turned into a highway of
wrinkles. “Fuck you,” she said.

Xero shrugged. “If you wish, although I don't
think the two of us have ever been that close,” she said.

“I would never touch someone as filthy as
you,” Voodoo said.

“You know, you can call me what you want—drug
dealer, dictator, slut, whatever. You can have as many reasons as
you want to hate me, but the truth is, the real reason you do hate
me is actually not my fault. We never would have sold or
distributed a drug that eats holes in someone’s skin. For one, it’s
just disgusting, and for another that stuff spread back to our own
territory and caused the same problems. It doesn't matter whether I
have morals or not, that’s just bad business. Killing off the
market for your other, more lucrative and pleasant drugs doesn't
make any sense,” she said.

“Say what you want it was still your fault
that something like that ever came to be. If you want permission to
deal back in my territory you’re going to have to earn it,” Voodoo
said.

“Fair fight? Are you going to have goons come
out of the shadows and turn this into an old Bruce Lee movie?” she
asked.

“Fair fight. Me against you. First blood,”
she said.

“Weapons?” Xero said.

From inside the pockets her dress she
extracted two twin knives. Nothing special, just two ordinary
blades about the length of a hand. Without a word she threw the one
in her right hand directly at Xero’s face. She ducked, and the
knife landed in the beige wall a few inches above her head.

“Isn’t this a historical landmark?” Xero
said.

“Not the outer wall. See, arrogant pricks
like you don't bother to listen. Pick up your knife,” she said.

Xero put one hand against the tacky wall and
pulled against the knife with the other. The knife came out cleanly
in her hand, leaving only a few sprinkles of drywall to fall on the
baseboards.

“This is your last chance to stop this. I
think there are better ways to work out our differences,” Xero
said.

Voodoo didn’t respond, but instead dropped
into a fighting stance, knife clutched in an overhead stab
position. With such a telegraphed move, Xero already felt sorry for
her. She stood still while Voodoo launched herself across the room,
dodged to the side, and tried to land a hit in Xero’s diaphragm.
Xero saw it coming from a million miles away. She admired the
woman’s passion, but her emotion was blinding her. When they’d
tangled in the past Voodoo had been an extremely dangerous
opponent—cold, calculating, and precise, like Xero when she was in
the right mood. They’d traded blows and watched each other’s blood
drip more than one time. Now it seemed like she was duking it out
with Xero just to justify making the trade and distributing an
illegal drug that would have other negative consequences. Voodoo
didn’t actually want to fight, but her inner morals were forcing
her to.