Young.
Drunk. High. Some combination of the two.
One human man stood directly in the spray and screamed something triumphant while his shirt plastered itself against him.
A yinglet woman jumped backward when the stream shifted.
Another person tried to fit something over the hydrant valve and immediately lost it.
Kimia watched from across the street.
The human guard moved slightly closer.
The indrel's mask clicked.
One of the drunk men saw it.
His expression went from joy to calculation.
He decided instantly that whatever had brought an indrel into his evening did not require investigation.
Kimia gave the group a wide berth.
They seemed happy. Perhaps genuinely.
She envied them slightly, then corrected herself.
She had no idea what they were running from.
Everyone at this hour looked free if observed from far enough away.
The water roared behind her as she continued.
Streetlights became farther apart.
The buildings changed.
Less retail.
More residential.
Then the bridge.
Small river.
Nothing impressive.
Black water moving beneath steel and concrete.
Kimia stepped onto the pedestrian side.
The air became colder above the water.
She walked toward the middle.
Stopped.
Hands in the windbreaker pockets.
The city reflected brokenly below.
Yellow.
White.
Red.
Ripples destroyed all of it.
Kimia looked down.
For once reflection did not invite examination.
Water was allowed to lie.
She looked up.
Aircraft.
Far above.
Blinking beacon lights.
Red. White. Green.
The machine itself barely visible except when it crossed the Heavenly Veil.
Kimia watched.
Hours earlier she had been inside one.
Metal tube. Reaction engines. Physics. Fear.
Now it was only four moving lights.
Someone inside that aircraft might be afraid. Someone might be asleep. Someone might be looking down at Val Salia and thinking the city resembled circuitry.
From the ground the aircraft became abstraction. From inside the aircraft the ground became abstraction.
Distance reduced everything to symbols.
The Diet had done the same to Tilmuhl.
Kimia frowned.
No.
Not tonight.
She had come outside specifically to avoid turning everything into government.
The aircraft moved on.
Its lights diminished.
Gone.
Kimia breathed.
Cool air.
River.
Bridge.
Indrel behind her.
Guard nearby.
Body.
Place.
Enough.
She checked her pocket watch.
Later than intended.
Not disastrously.
Time to return.
The walk back felt shorter.
It probably was not. The brain changed distances according to whether it expected arrival.
Corner store again.
Still open.
Cashier still inside.
The movie had ended.
A commercial occupied the televox.
Kimia kept walking and returned to the hotel
The lobby clerk looked up when she returned.
Same expression.
Nothing.
Good man.
Kimia nodded.
He nodded.
No title.
The elevator carried them upward.
At the guards' suite Kimia stopped.
“Zhanks.”
The human guard said: “Any time.”
The indrel's mask clicked.
Kimia looked at it.
“Go rest.”
The soldier did not move.
Of course.
“Or stand outside my door and pretend zhat counts.”
Click.
Kimia sighed.
She returned to her suite and opened the door carefully.
Vehm was asleep in the chair.
Notebook resting against his stomach.
Pencil still in one hand.
His head leaned awkwardly against the upholstery.
Kimia stopped.
The televox remained on.
The same late-night talk show Kimia caught a glimpse of a while ago.
A human host sat behind a desk laughing with some actor Kimia vaguely recognized.
The studio audience laughed when instructed by something outside the frame.
Vehm slept through all of it.
Kimia crossed the room quietly, and noticed the notebook resting against Vehm began to move as he moved slightly in his sleep. She picked it up before it could fall and set it on the desk.