Read Division Zero for Free Online

toward the exit.



ncessant beeping picked at the edges of Kirsten’s consciousness until the alarm clock dragged her back to the world of the dawn. She raised her arms over her head and stretched under the covers, squinting at the slices of morning leaking through the blinds of her apartment’s lone window. The comforgel slab in which her body lay embedded had been on the fritz for months. No longer calibrated for temperature, it left her over-warm and far from comfortable.
    She flung the covers off, letting the cool air wash over her. Sleeping in a short shirt and panties had embarrassed her at first, but the pajamas she so adored left her miserably warm. It presented a question of lesser evils; risk a peeping ghost or lie awake in a puddle of sweat. Standing today proved to be another matter entirely; breathing still hurt. Despite the use of two stimpaks, a line of bruise remained across her ribs where the mace had caught her. She rubbed it with a wince and let out a sigh, wondering why these things always hurt so much more the day afterward.
    At least I finally got to sleep without that dream.
    After peeling herself out of the Kirsten-shaped hollow in the mattress, she kicked her legs over the side and slumped forward. She braced her ribs with her arm and took a few painful breaths. As her imprint in the comforgel faded, she tuned out the wretched electronic cacophony responsible for her being awake. Her eyes struggled to make sense of the blurry mass in front of her that focused into her toes. After a year, she still could not get used to having to wake up at six a.m. Mornings had felt much easier when she lived in the Division 0 dorm; the commute had been quick, just a walk down a hallway.
    A trace of the Synvod she used to chase away the asylum remained in a glass on the nightstand. The scent kicked her in the stomach and the taste of it bubbled to the back of her mouth.
    After silencing the alarm, she went into her tiny bathroom. Satisfied by the empty room, she pushed the door closed and held her hand out with her palm against the silvery steel. Faint traces of white light coalesced around the door and slid along the walls until the entire area shone, awash with illumination. Her eyes opened when she finished concentrating, and the glow receded into the walls. Despite the absence of visual effect, she felt safe and secure.
    She stepped into the shower tube after dropping her clothes in a heap on the small blue rug. The cylindrical door slid closed behind her without a noise. She examined her reflection in the tube wall, checking on a few small bruises lingering here and there, paying particular attention to one on her shin. The stimpaks had done a decent job of shrinking them to a point where they would be gone within a day or two. Bending down proved to be unwise. The Synvod churned in her stomach, traces of it burbled back into her mouth.
    Turning away from her reflection, she spat into the drain and poked at the control console to start the machine whirring. A groan came out of her as warm soapy water filled the tube. Her muscles relaxed under the gyrating pressure of the rotating jets. Basking in the sense of it, her mind wandered.
    Will I ever find a guy that doesn’t run away screaming?
    So far, the ones that stayed longer than a minute after finding out wanted little more than getting into her pants. Some would call it unethical to peek into their brains, but she would rather cheat the rules a little bit than be hurt. She let her forehead touch the wall, feeling for a moment like a hypocrite for snapping at Nicole for doing the same thing. The autoshower shuddered to a halt. The spray ring whirred its way back into the ceiling and locked, seconds before a tornado of hot air sucked her hair vertical.
    I guess telepaths are just lonely
.
    When the dry cycle stopped, she pushed the tube open and walked out into the frigid embrace of the bathroom. Taking a seat by the sink, she plucked her e-razor from the