BZRK: Reloaded (BZRK 2)

“Sadie. Sadie and Noah. Let’s try that.”

“Sadie.”

They had found a place: the stunted bell tower. The stairs leading up were narrow and rickety, and they’d had to bow their heads and press steadying hands against the wall as they climbed up. But at the top there was still a bell, an actual, old-fashioned bell maybe a foot across at the base. It had not been rung in a very longtime , and spiders had taken it over as an arachnid condo.

The space around the bell was cramped but swept relatively clean by breezes blowing through the low, open windows. They could at least stand upright, and a series of tiny horizontal ventilation slats gave them a sort of film noir view of the world outside.

It was cold. They could each see the other’s breath. A small slice of the brilliantly lit Capitol Dome was visible, but it looked cold, too. “You know what I wish?” Noah asked. “I wished I smoked cigarettes. It would be lovely to stand up here and sort of contemplatively smoke a cigarette.”

“Contemplatively?” “Of course I imagine a cancerous lung must be a hell of a thing to see down in the nano.”

“All things considered I’m not so worried about cancer.”

“ No?”

“Normal people are worried about cancer.”

“And that’s not us?”

She forced a short laugh, wanting to acknowledge the weak attempt at humor. “Do you think either of us ever was? Normal?”

“I was,” he said.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about normal.”

“What me? Well, Miss McLure . . .”

“Ms,” she corrected.

“Really? All right then, Ms McLure. Here’s my normal. Up early. It’s cold in the flat because the radiator in my room doesn’t work very well, and if I want to be warm then my mum’s room has to be the Sahara.”

“Can’t you get it fixed?”

“Well, yes, normally I’d ring for the butler—”

“Don’t start,” she snapped.

“Why are you so touchy about being rich?”

“Because I want to be loved fo

r myself.” She said it lightly, a tossoff, as a joke.

“I didn’t think you wanted to be loved at all,” he said.

“Ah. Well, there’s a difference between wanting to be in love and wanting to be loved.” She shivered. “I’m freezing.”

“Shall we go down?”

She shot him a look from beneath lowered eyelids. “How do you not recognize a cue to offer me some warmth?”

He put his arm around her.

“Still cold,” she said.