NIGHT, FLIRTING UNDER NEON LIGHTS WAITING FOR A MECHANIC TO FINISH LOOKING YOUR VEHICLE OVER

Kae looked back at the new arrival. Dora seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Before she could say anything, a small half-circle dug into the corridor shone a soft white. A shape stepped out of the wall, blinking.

“Des?” she asked.

“Kae?”

“Hey, love,” said Ludo behind her. Kae realized he wasn’t addressing her. He sounded nervous. “Where’ve you been?”

“Handing out flyers and supplies,” Dora said.

This girl is the new Lucille, Kae wanted to scream. She can barely reach the music station! The audience won’t be able to see her!

She didn’t, though, because by the expression on the girl’s face she’d already said too much.

“Erm, right, so, this is a little awkward.”

Ludo had hopped over the counter, cables trailing after him like the platform in the center wasn’t ready to let go.

“Dora, this is Kae. Kae, this is my girlfriend, Dora.”

For a moment, Kae didn’t know what to say. Des remained just out the room, trying to stay out of whatever was going on.

“Hum, hi?” Kae said. She looked down at her feet. “I heard you’re the new Lucille?”

The girl looked shell-shocked. She was looking at Kae with a mix of fear and awe. Ludo was just standing there, looking as awkward as Kae felt.

“Look, I… sorry if I was, uh, brusque. I got a little carried away, I didn’t mean…”

Silence. The girl breathed in. She looked about to cry, and Kae realized she would hate herself if she made Dora cry. Even though she would also enjoy it. A little.

“Are you really her?” Dora asked, breathlessly. “Lucilee?”

Kae hesitated, unsure.

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes darted to Des, who was completely entranced by an office plant decorated with cigarette butts. “I mean, a long time ago, so no, not really, but I… yes?”

Dora ran forward and hugged her. Kae was sure she heard a squeal as she awkwardly patted the girl’s back.

“I can’t believe this,” the words, muffled by her shirt, vibrated against Kae’s chest. “You’re such an inspiration.”

She looked up, hesitant and confined to Dora’s arms. Ludo and Des were introducing each other and watching them, sporting each a different kind of smile that however said the same thing: adorable.

“Hey, could you?”

Dora released her, apologizing profusely. She was red, and a deluge of words was tumbling out of her mouth. How she’d seen every Faeman and Lucilee concert from the first in a tiny basement bar that didn’t even exist to their final one, in a set-up much like this one for a Uni party. That had been before her final fight with Ludo, before even they knew it would be their last concert. When they split up, Dora had been heartbroken. And then, in the first year of her master’s, the TA had been Faeman himself. She couldn’t believe it.

“I introduced myself, and—” Dora went from red to redder. It was uncanny how someone could look so embarrassed after only four words.

Kae looked at Ludo, who shrugged. That had been it, apparently. From there to love to bringing Lucilee and Faeman back from the dead it had been a matter of connecting the dots, and was that OK? Dora hadn’t meant to steal anything, just L&F had been such an inspiration…

“Fine, it’s fine,” Kae raised her hands in defeat. It all seemed considerably stupider with Des watching silently from the background, blue eyes flashing from time to time. “That’s not even why I’m here. I need you to look at a piece of tech. Des’ ship suffered some damage…”

Ludo was shaking his head.

“Y’know I’d do it, right? ‘s just I got a lot to prepare here. The lights aren’t on, and none of the bozos outside know a thing about shit when it comes to this. It’s the last bash, Kae. I’m gonna need to stay on top of this.”

Then Kae played her trump card.

“It’s biomechanical,” she said. She saw Ludo’s eyes widen.

“No, it isn’t,” he retorted, smiling. But he was unsure. “No one’s got that kind of hardware except for the First Guard…” his voice faltered as he looked at Des again, this time with renewed intensity, a careful, slow analysis that everything to do with her body but nothing to do with her attractiveness.

“It’s the end of the world, Ludo,” Kae said. “You used to say you’d give an arm and a leg to touch an actual biomechanical ship. Why’re you busting your ass with a doctorate if you’re going to pass up this opportunity?”

“I…” Ludo was unsure. Kae liked seeing that, she admitted to herself. Did she like taking Ludo away from their show, even if for a little while? She did, she discovered. It was stupid and petty, and absolutely not OK, but if she faced her feelings squarely she had to admit the terrible joy was there.

But then Dora put her hand on Ludo’s arm and told him he should go. And she meant it! She wanted him to go. Dora would finish things up as best she could, and then Ludo could do the final touches.

That wiped the sadistic smile from Kae’s soul. Substituted it for a deep, heavy discomfort.

Deserved, she thought.

The three of them took the portals down to the Professor’s Lounge. Prof Tulla, who taught Ancient Civilizations and Titonian, both Lower and Higher, was there, still his usual gruff, unfriendly self. He was saying something about the portals being for use of professorial staff when they passed.

From there, it was a quick dash to the roof of the central building, where Des deactivated the invisibility, Slipstream came alive with a blue sheen that illuminated the night and Ludo nearly creamed himself right there and then.

“May I…?”

“You may,” Des said.

The door opened for him. Des and Kae remained outside. Slipstream looked beautiful, even with the ugly scar Shadows’ attack had left behind. We were both taken in by the sight, waiting in the chilly night air.

“You didn’t tell me we were going to see your ex,” Des said, conversationally.

“Didn’t I.” Kae looked at her feet. She was starting to develop a habit.

“They seem good together,” Des continued. “Dora is a nice person. She helped me find you, you know.”

“Did she.”

Des chuckled.

“There’s a bit of history there, then? Between you two? It ended… Poorly?”

Kae covered her eyes.

“I hadn’t spoken to him for five years now. I thought it would be OK, honestly. Had no idea that I’d react so… so much like this.”

Des nodded.

“It can be like that. Getting broken up with, you know, there’s that thing. People talk about bruised egos, but it’s more like someone just took a lead pipe to your ego’s shins, then beat it near to death.”

“Good choice of words,” Kae said, smiling.

“You know what I mean,” Des said. She sounded annoyed, but she was smiling too, her face awash in Slipstream’s neon blue light. “You feel as low and as hurt as you’ve ever felt before, but there’s a sick pleasure in it. Because you’re a victim, finally. You get to complain, and mope, and bury your face in the past and pretend the world is ending.”

“Only not really,” she said.

Des looked at her. Kae shrugged.

“People used to use those expressions without knowing at it was really like.” Kae gestured. “The end of the world. Well, now we know, and it’s not that bad. I mean, it’s not the same as we were left to believe. There’s a lot of moping and a lot of running from it, sure, but there’s also a lot of partying and making things.”

“And stealing spells.”

Kae nodded, breathing a cloud of warm air.

“Exactly. Life-affirming stuff.”

They stood in silence. From inside the ship came expressions such as ‘woah,’ ‘can’t believe it,’ and ‘magic!’. In the distance to the East, and embracing the entire world around them

“You never told me what you were doing in the Eletes museum,” Kae said.

“I never told you anything, actually.”

Kae didn’t answer. She was sensing pre-party jitters, the sensation of tiredness that preceded the later explosion of activity. She didn’t feel like arguing, begging, or even cutting into the laden silence, which stretched into the night.

“Ah,” said Des. “Whatever. You got me a mechanic.” She sighed. “Alright. Please don’t ask questions, OK? Just… I’m telling you what I can tell you, what I feel comfortable telling you, and only because the world is ending. Agreed?”

Kae nodded slowly, like she was watching a shy forest creature she was afraid to spook.

“I had a spell in my mind,” she said, in a low voice. “Once. A pretty strong one. I was part of the First Guard, yes, though I haven’t been in years. Go ahead. Ask.”

Kae was caught by surprise.

“I thought you said—”

“I can see you’re burning to ask something,” Des said, half annoyed and half amused. “Come on, ask. It’s probably academic, anyway.”

“OK – you used to have a spell? I didn’t you lose a spell.”

“You can remove spells. Usually it happens for two reasons: one, you did well, so well they want to bump you to a stronger spell, and two, you fucked up, and you’re losing your spell and getting kicked out. When they test you for the First Guard, they use a very weak spell. Like, a sentence long. If you can get it to latch on to you, great, you’re in. And if you can master it, they’ll pass you up for something a bit more useful. You have more questions.”

It was a statement.

“Hum, alright,” Kae said, trying to gain time, to get her head in order. She didn’t want to bore Des, didn’t want to turn this into a study on spellwielding. She wanted to tease out a story. “What spells did you use?” She saw the hesitation in Des’ face and added, “Not the stronger ones. Just the ones you had along the way. So I have an idea.”

Des looked at Slipstream with a faraway look in her eyes. Remembering.

“My first spell…” she said slowly. “I must have been about five. They locked me in a room with a fluffy stuffed bunny. I remember it was a really nice bunny. Better than any I’d ever seen. I wanted it so bad. And just as I touched it, it happened. The spell latched onto my mind, like a barnacle. It was Make Raindrops Fall Up During Winter Sunsets.”

“What?”

“Yes. There’s thousands and thousands of spells, Kae. Most of them are pretty useless. Which is why the Guard saves the good ones so jealously.”

“And that became your name? Makes Raindrops Fall Up…”

“During Winter Sunsets, yep. They called me Raindrop for short.” Des smiled, gazing into the past. “The first spell is usually the hardest. When you’re learning to think but not think. But.I always had a knack for it. After just a few years—”

“Of mastering making raindrops fall up.”

“It’s harder than it sounds!” Des protested, but she smiled. “After a few years, I was saying, they bumped me up to Jumps Higher Than Trees, which doesn’t sound very impressive, but it’s a better challenge. You can jump, sure, but can you land safely? By normal spell rules, yes, you can. The spell itself gives you all the tools you need to make it work as well as possible. But until you figure it out, well… The wrong jump can kill you. And so on, from spell to spell, until… Oh, here he comes.”

Ludo had emerged from the ship, wild-eyed and bright-smiling. He was cleaning his hands on a sweater he’d hastily thrown on before leaving the building.

“That’s amazing. Thank you, thank you for this. I swear, I knew ships like this existed, but they never let us look at one of them. It’s fantastic.”

Des nodded, tight-lipped. Ludo’s enthusiasm went down a notch. He’d always been good at reading people, Kae knew. She wondered what he saw in Des that made him curb his enthusiasm like that.

“Anyway,” he continued. “All she needs is energy. Sunlight is all well and good for normal operations, but to correct this she’ll need a booster.”

“Alright!” Kae said. “Can you help us out with that?”

“Oof,” he frowned. “It’s going to be complicated. It’s not like we can just plug her in and give her a few hours, we’d need to hook her up to an adapted source, monitor energy levels, and if she can’t handle it we’ll have to find some sort of adapter…”

Luckily, Kae could always read him. And from the worried look on Des’ face, it was about time to bring the joke to a stop.

“Those are all things you can do in your sleep, Ludo,” she said. “Admit it.”

He smiled. Kae remembered well the look on his face, meeting with a problem he was happy he could solve. With a pang in her gut, she was suddenly brought back to the good old days, when things weren’t confusing, before it ever occurred to her that their relationship might be in any way doomed.

“We have everything we need in Lab Two. Might take a few hours for her to charge up. And all that for only one condition.”

Ludo stopped, letting his words hang in the air.

They waited.

“You come to the party.”

“Ludo…” Kae said. Des wore a tight, uncomfortable smile.

“Come on, love,” he said. “Not for me, for you two. You’re both wound up. You need to let some energy out. And I’d really like to say goodbye properly, Kae. Being the end of existence and wall.”

Kae looked at Des, and Des at Kae. An understanding passed between them.