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Earth annihilated one another. It seems they only succeeded in destroying most of the planet.
    “I’m talented,” I say, although I’m not actually interested in the occupation. I’m looking for information.
    Dante hesitates, running his hand over his short hair. He drops it down and pushes his empty plate away. “You lack certain necessary qualities.”
    “How would you know that?” I demand.
    “Because you’re a girl.”
    “A girl?” I repeat.
    Beside me Jost trembles with held-back laughter, and I smack his shoulder.
    “You don’t want to underestimate this girl,” he warns Dante.
    “I’ve been gathering that much,” Dante says. “It’s more of a policy. Kincaid, my boss, only employs men. Very particular kinds of men.”
    It’s implicit in his words that Jost doesn’t qualify, which begs the question of why we are still here. Dante gains nothing from helping us. We have no value in his line of work.
    “Kincaid only has interest in women for one reason, and something tells me you, Adelice, might object to the position,” Dante adds. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to get tangled up in Kincaid’s business. It’s better if you steer clear of him.”
    “So you capture sunlight from outside the Interface and sell it as power,” I say, changing the topic before Jost gets upset. If Dante is still talking, I might as well keep him at it.
    “We have containment units that turn it into a form of electricity, and then we ration it out to shops and homes.”
    Or the highest bidder, I think. “Is that why there is a curfew?”
    “Yes,” he says. “We couldn’t supply enough energy to keep the Icebox lit at all times. Here in the Icebox, we’re close enough to the border of the Interface that the city has longer daylight hours. It’s easier for us to replenish the solar panels on the city’s power grid.”
    “Is that why you chose this place?” I ask.
    “That,” Dante says, “and because Kincaid liked San Simeon. He claims it’s because the mountains near his estate prevent Guild interference.”
    “But you don’t think that’s it?” I guess.
    “When you see his estate, you’ll understand what I mean.”
    “So the people are left in darkness because Kincaid wanted an estate,” I remark.
    “They have candles. Many ration their supply for private use after hours, but the streets are dark,” he says. “It’s not possible to set up a community outside the cover of the Interface. There’re too many Guild mining operations. We do the best we can.”
    “We’ve heard rumors of predators that roam after hours,” Jost tells him.
    “An unfortunate side effect of turning off the lights. It’s why the curfew is necessary.”
    “But no one is around to enforce the curfew,” I point out.
    “The curfew isn’t enforced so much as understood. If you’re out after hours, the Rems could get you. Most don’t chance it. There’s always a suicidal few though. Rems like the darkness,” Dante says.
    “Rems?” Jost asks. We’ve heard the term before but we’re no closer to understanding it now.
    “Remnants—nasty lot,” Dante says.
    “Why do they take people?”
    “Food mostly.”
    I’m suddenly glad my own meal is gone and that I haven’t asked for seconds.
    “Food?” Jost echoes, not quite following him.
    “I’m sure you’ve noticed there’s not a lot to go around. They don’t discriminate when they hunt and the livestock we do keep is heavily guarded. Wild animals don’t make it out of the mining zones. Who knows what the Guild does with them. Anyway, you can cook a human, too,” Dante says with a wicked grin, and the contents of my stomach churn a little.
    “So they’re cannibals?” I don’t bother hiding my disgust.
    “They don’t have the same moral code we do.” He shrugs. “They don’t have souls.”
    “I guess not,” Jost mutters, setting his fork down.
    “No, literally, they have no souls,” Dante clarifies. “The Guild sends them here, and they’re