The Connect panel woke her up.
The digital screen, flashing dull green and muted grey, read nearly seven pm, almost a full six hours sleep and still not enough. Her body was screaming fatigue, but it could be Pharrell with a delivery, it could be Busta with her tips from that rich guy who was betting last night. Evening was the time that everyone did business and she couldn't ignore it in case it was someone with money.
Christina buzzed whoever it was into the building, absently pulling on some excersise shorts and a tank top that one of Mer's men had left behind. The face at the door, however, was Britney's.
"Okay," she said, scowling, "you like, can't just. What do you want?"
Britney kept her head up, eyes level with Christina's. "Can I come in?"
Christina stepped back. "I already showed you J's apartment, what else do you want?"
She stepped into the rooms, casually glancing around. "I came to repay the debt." Christina narrowed her eyes, trying to see the game but no, Britney was speaking calm as you please. She added, "and take you out for dinner."
"Dinner?" A snort.
"Do you have anything you can wear at the Sunset? There's a dress code." She couldn't help but laugh that time, but Britney's face didn't change, though her eyes did narrow a bit. "I'm serious."
"The Sunset."
"Yes. Steak dinner, lobster, wine, whatever you want." Britney brushed hair out of her face. "Because you helped me this morning. Payment of the debt; I know how it works. You do something, someone gives you something back."
Christina scratched her empty stomach, where a bruise was fading into dull yellow-y purple thanks to the sealant. "And all this time I settled for sex when I could've gotten steak."
Britney tilted her head. "Look, are you coming or not?"
The sun was down, the last of the horizon shining burnt copper through her window, and the day was rapidly cooling off. Still, a layer of salt and sweat was dried on all of Christina's skin, a hazard of sleeping in the sunshine on the forty-third floor of a tenement. "Lemme wash up and change."
Christina started throwing clothes off, grabbing towel and chemical cleaner, her colorant and softener -- her hair was coarse and the shocking colors wouldn't fit at the Sunset. A muted blonde, maybe, soft ringlets and some of Mer's old clothing to hide the bruises that had sprouted up all over her body. She held up the colorant, and grinned. "Wouldn't want to come out to high society looking fresh from the slums, right? Something suitably dull?"
Britney laughed, as Christina headed for the tub.
~
"I've got a car," Britney said, as Christina held out her bike helmet. Mer's closet was ransacked and she was gonna have Christina's head come morning, but fuck it, she was dressed in a skirt with a diagonal hem, one side down to her knees, and spindly spikey heels. It was just as well they weren't gonna have to ride the bike, dressed up in all this shit.
Christina left a message on the Connect, in case anyone called her or tried to come by for the tabs she owed them -- J should be coming to collect the fifty from last week -- and locked up with a bit of trepidation. A car. Cars weren't completely unheard of, down in the tenements, but not many people bothered with them, stuck to scooters or bikes or walking. A few had hover boards, or plain old skateboards too. Cars were for people who lived further up the hill, who could see trees out their front windows.
A sleek black stretch Merc came to pick them up, the driver opening the door for her and Britney. A bottle of red wine was chilling in an ice bucket in their door, and Britney opened it for her, poured some out but only had half a glass, herself.
It would almost be worth it to be rich. The car itself had air conditioning. Christina checked herself in the mirror.
The car wound gradually farther and farther up the hill, and the streets became wider and wider, the huge skyrises giving way to warehouses, older brick, and finally individual houses, the alarm systems flashing faintly on every gate. She could feel the altitude changing, the money seeping up from the pavement. The steep rise continued, and Christina could almost *feel* the smog lifting.
"Almost there," Britney commented, out of nowhere. "Ready?"
The soft music playing -- some kind of weird jazz with vocals, space age and probably from the new station -- muted, and the driver called through the speaker, "tonight's password?"
"Lipton," britney said, clearly, and he rolled up the partition again. "It's changed nightly," she said, absently, pouring more wine. "To get into the town up here, you need the code."
The wine smelled rich, fruity, and Christina had drank over half the bottle by the time they stopped to drive through the first gate. Here, the houses were as big as warehouses, complexes with winding roads all to themselves and cottages dotting the scenery.
"Must be nice having a patron," she said, spying a group of people having dinner on the patio of one of the smaller cottages. A girl in an apron was bringing them a huge roast of some kind, buffalo or whatever, Christina hadn't seen meat that size in years, if ever.
Britney offered her more wine with a quirk of her lips. Christina held out her glass. "it has it's benefits."
They finally pulled up to a huge mansion, one of the biggest in the community, with another entry gate all to itself. The security was clear, every ten feet there was another faintly blinking panel, either hidden behind a statue or cleverly concealed behind a bush. The archway, huge and flanked by columns, had a small crowd around it, people waiting to be ushered past the first wrought-iron gate.
"Have the last of it," as Britney poured Christina another glass. Christina looked around, as the driver opened their door, but Britney just climbed out easily, glass in hand, so Christina did the same. "After you," and so Christina, sipping red wine, approached the crowd.
~
"Was that a *zebra*?" And, sure enough, another striped zebra was lead past them, into a side entrance and then the doors slid closed behind it. Christina peered after the animal. "That was a zebra. Jesus."
Britney muttered, "hang on, we're almost at the doors --" and then, a long lineup of people dressed in the finest clothing, talking quietly and all pulling out gold VIP ID cards to present to the man at the inner doors. They were standing in an outer courtyard; the first gate had opened up to a cobblestone alleyway, more stone buildings and lace curtains. Someone had driven them, in a miniature limo, from the entry gate to this door.
The line moved slowly forward, Christina restraining her tapping foot. More and more people arrived, and the discreet waterclock in the middle of the courtyard rang out ten o'clock. The place was huge, a mansion of a castle with discreet lights every ten feet, torches of glowing plastic diffusing light all over the dark grass. The moon shone bright from behind the clouds, and there were palm trees and grass springing up, flourishing. Music and flashing drifted down from the closest towers, and the air smelled like fresh flowers.
"The decor's changed," Christina murmured, as they came closer to the front of the line. "Last time I was here it was last millenia's modern stucco and lasers." She looked up at the stars, visible in the dark sky. It wasn't cold; it was never cold in the city anymore, and yet, there was a cool breeze blowing from somewhere. "I like this better."
Britney gave her a hint of a smile as they finally reached the head of the line, and she presented her gold Sunset ID, with it's silver strip. The doorman barely glanced at them, just scanned the card and handed it back. The door opened automatically, smoothly letting them into the entrance hall.
"So, what now?" Christina said, looking around. "It's ten thirty, so what? Dinner? Dancing?"
"Bit of both," and Britney, with a firm hand on her elbow, steered her through a maze of hallways and up several huge stone staircases. "I have to change. On stage tonight."
"You don't get a night off?"
Britney put her ID into a discreet lock beside a huge wooden doorway, and this doorway, too, slid open for them. "Sunday is Sunset's big night. Entertainment, drinks, whatever you want to buy."
Christina wandered in, as Britney closed the door behind them. A couple of girls, no more than sixteen and dressed all in white, immediately appeared, carrying a long dark red dress, and began fussing over Britney, zipping her into it, pining up her hair. Christina sat down akwardly on a spindly couch, and another girl, curly black hair and wide smile, brought her some more red wine, pouring into her glass, and a plate of dainty things to eat. "What time do you go onstage?"
"Eleven thirty," she answered absently. "Pharrell will be here, I asked him this morning. He'll keep you companioned while I'm singing."
"I don't need a babysitter--" Christina snapped, but Britney interrupted,
"it's not babysitting, it's so someone with a VIP ID is with you so you can get us a decent seat for dinner, calm down." She shooed the girls out of the room for a minute, and looked pained. "We eat at midnight, and then dessert at two thirty. Here," and she tossed a delicate gold bracelet at Christina, which she snapped on her wrist. "That's a guest tag, you'll be good if you flash that. it's got my name on it, charge whatever you want from the bar to that ID. Be good, I have to go."
"But--" and Britney was already sweeping out of the room, skirts swirling out behind her. The handmaidens were gone, so she was on her own. Okay, that was fine, and she stood, strode out the open archway. The door closed with a little click behind her, and she was left in a subdued hallway with a guest bracelet and a set of stairs leading up and to the left.