Broken Mug
“IWAS GETTING almostas good as you towards the end there,” Jo boasted boldly. Her index finger pulled away from the slick, condensing glass of her drink, ice bobbing as she took a sip of what tasted delightfully reminiscent of RAGEENERGY.
“I’d better be careful, or you’ll take my job from me.” Takako chuckled that soft and breathy sound Jo had come to associate as uniquelyhers.
“Everyone will want me to be the sharpshooter, you can hack.” Jo grinned. They both knew she was being utterly ridiculous, but after the last couple of days, it felt good tobe.
She’d unloaded countless bullets into paper targets. When she’d grown tired of those, Takako pushed a button on a panel and flesh-colored dummies had sprung from the ground. The Law of Especially Large Numbers was responsible for the shots Jo managed to land; if she fired a hundred shots, one was bound to make contact—but Jo made it out to be a source of pride anyway, for the sake of irony if nothingelse.
Takako had played along then, encouraging her and keeping the seemingly never-ending stream of bullets ready in a rotation of guns. And she played along now as they lounged by the pool in the late afternoonsun.
“I’d make an awfulhacker.”
“I’m sure you’d be fine. And at least you’d be useful to the wish. Snow would letyouhelp, I’m sure. . .” Jo swirled her drink before taking a long, embitteredsip.
“You don’t always want to be useful to the wish.” As if on instinct, Takako turned her gaze back, as if she could peer all the way through the walls and halls, to the briefing room. “Sometimes, it’s better not tobe.”
“Why?” Jo questioned the somber and reflective tone as much as she did the sentiment. It was so similar to Wayne’s, possibly the only similarity between thetwo.
“A lot of pressure when you’re involved; you have to make a lot happen in a small period of time.” The mention of time reminded Jo of Wayne’s caution for wasting her time, even if Snow said she was benched for the current project.But recreation rooms didn’t take time,a little voice in the back of her headwhispered.
“I’ve been in high-pressure situations before,” Joinsisted.
“I’m sure you have. Yet another reason why you’re the best hacker we could ask for.” Takako shook her head and brought her attention back to Jo. “Besides, you’re the only one of us who can. I’m the newest ‘recruit’—if you will—and even I know very little aboutcomputers.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Jo shook her head at the excuse. She knew Takako was just trying to deflect the conversation away from the wish and her sourness regarding it. “Everyone is practically born with a computer in-hand.”
“In your time, maybe.” Takako looked out over the far edge of thepool.
Jo studied Takako’s face in profile; looking outward or in, the woman’s expression was no more relaxed.Her time. It was no longer the present, no longer now. It was hers—that was the only reference point that mattered to anyone else. Just like the early 2000s belonged to Takako. But what had her life been like? Where had she lived? Did she have a family, a job, a lover? What had brought her to this life outside oftime?
Eventually, Jo followed Takako’s stare at the mountains in the distance, the questions burning her tongue. She hadn’t wanted Takako asking about her mom, or Yuusuke. But Jo also wanted to know more about her new friend; even just a little would go a longway.
“Did you have mountains like this, where you lived?” Jo asked softly, not taking her eyes away. “I mean, I didn’t. Texas in my time is—was—flat, and hot, and dusty,” she added quickly, not wanting to seem like she was asking without giving something inreturn.
“I did.” Takako nodded. “I grew up in the shade of the Japanese alps, northwest of Tokyo in Gunma.” Her attention was still glued to the horizon and Jo wondered if she saw the haze of the mountains from herchildhood.
She said nothing more, leaving Jo to glance at the other woman from the corners of her eyes. Now what? She’d started this train of conversation but had no idea where to lay tracks so she could proceed. She couldn’t just demand more information, she wouldn’t; she respected her kind new friend too much. But she was curious, and that hindered her from concocting any sort of effectivetransition.
A crash from behind them savedher.
Jo startled, half jumping from her chair. Two men were in the room beyond. Eslar was sitting at the chess table in the far-left corner—too far to overhear, she hoped. With those elongated ears of his, though, who really knew? Though Jo was left to wonder when, exactly, he’d arrived. And why, exactly, he had time to play chess when he was supposed to be granting wishes. Nico was in the kitchen, fretting over ceramic shards that littered thefloor.
“No, no-no.” The man who was sunshine incarnate was under threat of drowning due to the invisible raincloud that hung over his head. “Not that one, it was myfavorite.”
“What happened?” Jocalled.
Nico looked up, startled. Even despite his obvious turmoil over the broken dish, he smiled. “Jo, how good to see you. How do youfeel?”
“Better,” Jo admitted and started in, Takako on her heels. There wasn’t any point in trying to play off the fact that she’d been in an utterly pathetic funk for two days. But finding out you gave up your whole existence for nothing could do that to a person. She paused at the entry to the kitchen where Nico was scraping up the remnants of a mug and coffee in shaky hands. “Are you allright?”
“Just get a little twitchy when I haven’t had enough nectar of the gods.” Her opinion of Nico increased tenfold the moment she realized his description of coffee matched herown.
“I know that feeling.” She chuckled and knelt down, picking up some of the larger shards. “Takako, is there abroom?”
“Yes, I’ll get it.” She gave a nod and darted to the far end of the kitchen, returning with a broom anddustpan.
“Thanks.” Jo set her shards in the pan, helping Nico clean up the rest. When they stood up, Takako held another mug out, steaming and potent with the aroma ofcoffee.
