She shifted her weight impatiently. Everything was so much faster on the upper floors, where robots scanned groceries and charged for them via contact-link in a matter of seconds, then whisked them away to be delivered by drone. But she was learning that nothing down here was automated or efficient.
Finally Eris stepped up to the register, and the grizzled old cashier began clicking at her items with an ancient-looking handheld scanner. Eris zoned out, her gaze traveling over the dusty displays of cheese product; the nut-butter dispenser grinding its loud gears; the girl working the next cash register over, with a long sand-colored braid and wide, sad eyes. She looked about thirteen.
“That’ll be sixty-two dollars and twenty-six cents,” the cashier intoned. Eris dug her tablet out of her bag to wave it over the scanner, and the machine gave an angry beep. “It looks like the transaction was denied,” the cashier said, irritation creeping into his voice. “Do you have another account you can use?”
“Oh, um—” Eris looked down, her fingers flying over the screen as she pulled up her account balance, and felt suddenly nauseous. She had less than fifty NDs in her account. When the hell had that happened? “Sorry,” she mumbled, her face turning bright red, “let me just take out a few things, then you can ring me up again.” She heard muffled complaints from the customers in line behind her, and wished she could just sink into the floor and disappear.
She kept the meganoodles and pasta sauce, hesitating between losing the chicken or the chocolate–key lime ice cream cup. Finally, with a little sigh of defeat, she put aside the ice cream. “This should go through,” she said as a hand reached from behind her to pluck out the ice cream.
“You know you can add up the price of everything while you’re shopping.” Mariel rolled her eyes. “And if you can’t do the math, there’s a program for it on your tablet.”
“Hey,” Eris said quietly, unsurprised. “How’s it going?” She took her bag of groceries, the transaction approved now, and stood aside as Mariel’s few items were scanned.
“Like you care.” Mariel swiped her tablet and tossed Eris the ice cream cup. “Here you go.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that.” Eris followed Mariel down the hallway, feeling discomfited. She hadn’t quite realized Mariel was buying the ice cream cup for her.
“I did have to. You looked so pathetic about it.” Mariel shrugged. “Consider it a late birthday present. I saw on the feeds that you celebrated last weekend.”
Eris felt a stab of guilt. “Look, I didn’t—”
“Forget it. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I’m sorry!”
A few heads turned to look at them, curious, and Eris lowered her voice. “I’m sorry,” she said again, fumbling the words; she wasn’t used to apologizing. “What I did was shitty. It’s been a rough month for me. I didn’t mean to …” She trailed off helplessly. “Anyway, I really am sorry. Thank you for the ice cream.”
“Whatever. It’s fine.” They had reached Mariel’s door. She pushed on it with her hip; it was unlocked, and she started to step inside.
“Wait!” Eris hated begging, but she was already here and what the hell. “Do you want to maybe do something tonight?”
Mariel laughed once, darkly. “Sorry, Eris, I can’t just clear my schedule every time you need a hookup.”
“I meant as friends.” Eris tried not to sound defensive. “I just … I don’t know anyone else down here. It’s been lonely.”
“I have plans tonight. And I don’t mean a party,” Mariel said, but her voice had softened a little. Eris wondered if she’d struck a chord.
“Can I come?”
Mariel raised an eyebrow, studying her. “You’re not eating your ice cream.”
“Please?”
Mariel snatched the ice cream cup from Eris’s hand and ripped off the lid, then stuck a red-painted nail in and took a bite with her finger. “Mmm. Chocolate–key lime. Excellent choice. And yes,” she said as Eris opened her mouth again, “you can come. But if you do, there’s no ducking out early. Also, no drinking the wine.”
“So it is a party,” Eris said triumphantly.
Mariel just laughed again, saying nothing.
* * *
“You brought me to church?” Eris hissed, standing outside the hulking carved wooden doors of the Cathedral of St. Paul. “You do know it’s Friday, right?”
“My mom works weekends, so we always go Friday night instead of Sunday morning.” Mariel turned to Eris. “You can head home, if you want.”
Eris hesitated. They weren’t far. She’d never even noticed this church, but it was barely ten blocks from their street. “No,” she decided.
“No leaving early,” Mariel reminded her, and pushed on the heavy door, which swung inward. She dipped her hand in the holy water next to the entrance. When Eris passed the marble font without taking any, Mariel sighed, and turned to rub a few droplets from her thumb onto Eris’s forehead. Eris stood absolutely still.
She followed Mariel down a side aisle and into a pew, where a middle-aged couple with dark hair and a boy who looked about twelve were already seated. Mariel’s parents and brother, Eris guessed. Mariel whispered something that Eris couldn’t hear, gesturing at her. They all smiled and nodded at her, then faced forward as the choir began to sing.
Eris looked around, curious. It was cool and dim inside, most of the light blazing in from the stained-glass windows that lined the walls. Eris knew they weren’t anywhere near a side of the Tower, so these must be false windows, lit up from behind with solar lamps. The ceiling arced high overhead, taking up all of the next floor and maybe even some of the 105th. Stone statues of people in robes and halos lined the walls.
Belatedly Eris realized everyone was kneeling. She hurried to follow, sliding down onto the cushioned kneeler. They all began chanting something she didn’t know the words to. She looked over at Mariel. “Just pray,” Mariel whispered. So Eris closed her eyes and let the unfamiliar words wash over her.
For the rest of the service she followed the movements of the congregation: sitting, kneeling, standing, sitting again; humming along with the songs and sitting quietly during the prayers. The choir was enchanting, their voices mingling with the piano recordings to weave a kind of temporary magic over her. Eris felt soothed, almost peaceful. Her mind wandered. She thought about her parents—what they’d been like when they met, when her mom was just a young model who left her career for an older man, and her dad fresh off his second divorce. She let herself imagine her birth father; where he was now, what traits they shared.
She looked over at Mariel’s family, the four of them holding hands, and found herself hoping that everything would turn out all right for them. And for her own twisted, broken family too. Maybe that’s all that praying was, she thought, just wishing good outcomes on other people.
The priest said something and everyone was suddenly on their feet, shaking hands, murmuring good wishes to one another. It was utterly foreign to Eris, this idea of touching people you didn’t even know. But it was nice too—being someplace where no one judged her, or cared about her history, or even knew her name. After she’d shaken hands with Mariel’s family and the entire pew in front of them, Eris finally turned to Mariel. “Peace be with you,” she whispered, her voice a little scratchy.
“And with your spirit,” Mariel said in return, clasping Eris’s hand.
As they sat back down, Mariel didn’t quite let go. Instead she ran her hand along Eris’s arm to intertwine their fingers. Eris said nothing, just looked straight ahead, but her hand was tightly interlaced with Mariel’s. She gave Mariel a little squeeze, and after a moment, Mariel squeezed her back.
They sat quietly holding hands for the rest of the service.
* * *
When mass ended, Eris followed Mariel’s family as they joined the other churchgoers streaming out. After the calm peacefulness within the church, the world outside suddenly felt loud and overcrowded. Eris jumped a little as a medical hover, its siren wailing, swerved angrily past.