Arctic Rising by Tobias S. Buckell Page A

darkened the whole place, and a large, computer-free desk dominated the center of it. Small leather couches were scattered around, carefully positioned in front of the desk and facing it.
    In a meeting in this room, it would be clear who was in charge.
    There were no personal effects. No pictures, no motivational posters. What kind of decoration would a semilegal drug dealer choose anyway? Anika wasn’t sure.
    “Where’s Vy?” she asked. Chernov had taken up a position near the door, hands folded in front of him, a blank stare on his face.
    “Soon,” he grunted. He smiled at her. “Violet, she likes you very much, I think.”
    Anika sat on one of the couches, then leaned back into it and sighed. “Why do you say that?”
    “You are not buying or selling from her, and she still lets you into the office. And you are very pretty, yes.”
    The door opened. “Chernov, be quiet,” Vy said. Anika struggled to stand, but Vy pulled a small ottoman over and sat in front of her. “Jesus on a Popsicle stick, you look like shit.”
    “I’m sorry,” Anika said.
    Vy reached for the handcuffs and held her hands. “Don’t apologize. Chernov, get the damn bolt cutters, what are you waiting for, a formal invitation?”
    Chernov shrugged and walked out the door, hulking his way down the corridor.
    “Who did this to you?” Vy asked. “I have a few more Chernovs I can round up. We can fuck whoever did this up, they won’t ever want to lay a hand on you again.”
    Anika squeezed Vy’s hands. “He won’t be a problem anymore,” she said. “I killed him.”
    Chernov coughed from the door. They both looked at him, and he held up the bolt cutters.
    Vy looked back at Anika. “Chernov’ll keep his mouth shut.”
    Chernov grinned as he got the bolt cutters’ bottom blade in between Anika’s wrist and the first cuff. “It’s wax in my ears. Violet always yelling at me, yes? Do this. Do that. Don’t you hear what I am telling you, big stupid man.”
    The cuff cracked apart, and Chernov grunted in satisfaction. He turned his attention to the other hand.
    Vy kept holding Anika’s hands as she looked at the Russian bouncer. “Chernov smuggled himself to Baffin aboard a sealed shipping container with a shitload of scuba tanks to keep him breathing. He was trying to reach Alaska, but he miscalculated; the crew of the ship luckily heard him banging. He jumped overboard a few days later in some survival gear he found and floated to Baffin, where some friends of mine fished him out of the water. He’s been following me around like a puppy ever since.” She ruffled his hair.
    “Woof.” Chernov smiled as he freed Anika’s second hand, and held up the mangled pieces of the handcuffs.
    “Make those disappear,” Vy ordered, “and come back up with a doctor who’ll work for cash and owes us a favor.”
    “There’s med student, um…” Chernov frowned. “Edward. He’s home from Montreal. Yes. He will do.”
    And then the Russian ambled off to make arrangements.
    *   *   *
    Vy had some oxycodone and gave two to Anika with a bottle of water. By the time “Edward the med student” showed up, out of breath and blinking, the worst of the pain had receded into the background. Anika was struggling to stay awake.
    Edward, still a bit pale and sweaty, no doubt from only having had left The Greenhouse a few hours before, swallowed. “I really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said as he sat on the ottoman Vy had pulled up to the couch.
    Vy sat on her desk, feet folded, watching them. “It’ll be cash.”
    Edward licked his lips and looked back at Chernov. “I could get in a lot of trouble practicing without a license…”
    “You have bigger trouble if you refuse,” Chernov grumbled, folding his arms. “We solved problem for you. Remember that problem? Now you solve problem for us. This is how it works.”
    Edward brushed a stray blond hair back behind an ear and leaned forward. Anika looked at his green eyes as they