The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

I walked over to the nearest cross street and then up to Victory. While the shops and cafes in the outer ring of streets tended to be small, with their contents spilling out onto the pavement and filling the air with a riot of scents and color, the closer you got to Victory and the park that was Central's green heart, the more serene and orderly it became. Even those who'd ventured out so early moved with a superior sense of style and grace I could never match. And while the people who lived and worked in this sector didn't look anything alike physically, almost everyone was clad in either white or gray outfits, which lent to the overwhelming feeling of whitewashed uniformity. It certainly made the pale pink of my tunic seem bright by comparison.

I walked along the street until I discovered a boutique displaying the sort of dresses Charles had described and, after a slight pause, walked in. An older woman clad in vivid orange immediately appeared from a rear room and greeted me warmly.

“And how may I help you this morning, madam?” she said.

I hesitated again, and looked at the surrounding extravagance of silk and gossamer. “I need a dress for the inaugural ball tonight.”

Her face immediately lit up, and for the first time I wondered if I had enough credits on the RFID chip to pay for such a dress. Nuri had added extra to the initial five hundred, but I had no idea just how much.

“Please, come this way.” She swept the curtain to one side and waved me through. This second room was all white-and-gold opulence, with mirrors on the wall and a plush but comfortable-looking chair to one side. Beside this was a small gold table that held fruit and a number of beverage options.

“If madam would sit, I’ll pick out a number of designs for you.” She paused, looking me up and down. Whether I came up to expectations I couldn’t say, as her expression gave little away. “Would you like something to eat? A glass of champagne, perhaps?”

My smile felt somewhat tight as I perched on the edge of the chair. “No. Thank you.”

She nodded and disappeared into the other room. Cat happily followed her, and proceeded to describe in a rather awed tone the various dresses that were being collected and placed onto a clothes rack.

The woman returned and the so-called fun began as she ushered me in and out of various material scraps. Bear returned in the midst of all this.

Jonas doesn’t believe Branna knows about your Cat identity, but he is aware that you’ve infiltrated the elite's circle.

Which was almost as bad—unless, of course, Charles wasn’t the only one there with a new woman on his arm. I carefully peeled off a flimsy piece of purple gossamer and said, And the charms?

Will look like the bracelets she used to change Jonas’s appearance to that of a wrinkled old man, Bear said. Only instead of strings they’re made from interlaced wire, and will be either gold or silver, depending on whether they’re magic or psi indicators, or a preventative measure against either.

Which meant I just had to hope the elite were not into ostentatious displays of jewelry at such events, as that would make the task of spotting the charms all that much harder. I slipped another dress on and Cat sung her approval even as the woman made a sound of satisfaction. I glanced at one of the many mirrors. The dress was little more than a sleeveless sheath that clung to my curves as it fell to my knees. For the most part the silvery material was transparent, but there were four “modesty” lines of violet blue and rich jade sequined geometric patterns across my breasts, and a similar set that ran from my right hip to my left.

“Perfect,” the woman said. “Just perfect.”

It sparkles, Cat said. All princess dresses should sparkle.

I can't remember princess dresses showing a person's butt, Bear commented.

Have you not been paying attention? Cat said, in a tone that was mildly superior. They all show her butt. It’s the fashion.

My lips twitched as I fought to restrain my amusement. “Are you sure it’s not too revealing?” I turned around to study the aforementioned butt. The geometric patterns only covered the front of the dress, so I might as well have been wearing nothing for all the coverage this dress gave my back.

“It is, in fact, a little more demure than what has been popular this year,” the woman commented. “But it does suit you.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

The woman beamed as she quoted a price that could have kept me in supplies for the next six months. I swallowed my shock, ran the RFID chip across the scanner she produced, and held my breath as I waited for the payment to go through. Which, thankfully, it did.

Once I was dressed and my purchase carefully wrapped, I headed back to the apartment. Can we investigate the area while you sleep? Cat asked.

I nodded. “Just don’t cause any trouble. And don’t go too far.”

We won’t, they intoned.

As they raced away, giggling with excitement, I headed upstairs. In very little time, I was sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted.

I woke just as the first traces of evening stained the skies high above Central's endless daylight. After stretching the kinks out of my body, I padded down the stairs to grab something to eat. Charles might have said there would be food available tonight, but I suspected I might not be able to eat all that much. That niggling sense of unease was growing, and my muscles were twitchy—tight. Neither sensation was all that strange, even if I hadn't felt them much since the war. Back then it had been caused by walking into an unknown and dangerous situation that could all too easily blow up in my face—and with Branna on the loose, that was a very real possibility tonight.

Once I’d finished my ham and cheese omelet, I reached out for my ghosts. Cat answered immediately, her happiness so fierce the air around her sparkled.

The women in this area are fascinating, she said. They don't seem to do anything more than chat and eat. It's very strange.

I smiled. “Where's Bear?”