Selfie: Device Kids Book One

by D. S. Murphy

  After Dad had gone to sleep, I went into Megan’s room and lay down next to her.

  “My friends and I, we found a way to get the therabots to say in your system, so they won’t get flushed out. I’m glad you’re okay, but it would be useful to keep them around, right? They can keep running their program and keep you healthy longer. Also, we modded the gene that causes eye cancer. It should help keep you safe.”

  Megan’s eyes widened.

  “Will I be able to play with your app?” she asked.

  “We’ll see. Maybe a little, but only the basic settings. I might get away with extra makeup, but Dad would freak out if we tried to use that excuse with you.”

  I pulled out my phone and attached the zapper to program the bots, then ran the program code David had worked up.

  “This will sting a little,” I said. I held the zapper over her wrist and pressed the button. Megan jerked back, rubbing her wrist.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “That’s it,” I said. “Now get some sleep.” I turned off the lights and was about to close the door, but I leaned back and said.

  “And Megan, I really am glad you’re okay.”

  ***

  The next day at school I worked with Amy to design a user manual, then we made a digital version that we built into the app. You had to scroll through and read all the warnings and stuff, before initialing at the bottom.

  At lunch Brad and Greg assembled the hardware. He’d already made each of us our own little phone jack to program the bots, but David insisted on sharing the tech. So he showed us the components and how to put them all together. Now Greg and him were welding the pieces together with soldering irons. Brad wore a pair of sunglasses, but Greg had a full-face welding mask on.

  “Baby,” Brad mocked him.

  “You’d be careful too if you were as pretty as me,” Greg said.

  We’d already leaked the NHTC files on the dark web, so they couldn’t be traced back to us. We could just say we found them online. Now we were each supposed to invite three friends we knew would be cool about it.

  We only gave them basic features though, it was just to confirm our own research. We only tried new mods on ourselves. We pooled resources to make the phone devices. They cost $25 in parts, but Greg said he’d cover it.

  Each of us picked three people, until we had a list of fifteen names. Including us, that made a sample size of twenty. We sent each of them an anonymous email, with a link to download the app and with some ground rules: no talking about it at school; post changes and results on a private shared server; share before and after images on social media. We had them agree and sign a document first, then we hid a vial of therabots somewhere on campus and told them where to find it.

  We thought it would be safer, keeping it anonymous, but without the trust factor, most people blew it off. And not everyone agreed with our terms. I overheard a girl in 3rd period talking about it.

  “Yeah right, drink some mysterious liquid? Who would do that?”

  A couple of our friends had noticed the changes, and they put two-and-two together, but by the weekend only three people had signed up and received a vial of therabots. It wasn’t exactly the reception we wanted, but it was a start.

  “We need to go big at the dance,” Brad said on Friday. “Something more visual, more obvious. Get people talking about us. Then they’ll want in.”

  I said the same thing weeks ago, but I hadn’t brought up the Halloween dance since Melissa’s note. I’d been avoiding Greg in the halls and even skipped a few lunch meetings. I’d also been going au naturale. I wanted to look as plain and unattractive as possible. Melissa wouldn’t be going after me this hard unless she thought I was really a threat. I told the others I was testing less obvious hacks and didn’t want to overdo it, but I could tell Amy thought something was up.

  I don’t know what happened to Greg. He hadn’t messaged me again, and I hadn’t asked. There was weirdness between us, but I had no idea what was going on. His last message said he’d pick me up for the dance, but I was sure he’d changed his mind, now that I was back to my usual self. He probably regretted asking me in the first place.

  I thought somebody was going to suggest we all go together, but nobody did. We just agreed to meet at the dance and show off our costumes. I didn’t even want to go anymore, but it was the perfect opportunity to launch SelfX. I couldn’t hide out forever, and the group would know something was up if I went AWOL.

  Amy and I met after school to hit up a thrift store for accessories and outfits, then we went back to my place to work on our costumes.

  “What’s going on with you?” Amy asked, after the fifth time she asked about the mods I was going to use. I kept dodging the question.

  “You’ve been different lately. This was all your idea, but you’re not using SelfX like the rest of us. Is Megan okay?”

  “She is actually,” I said. “At least we think she will be. Maybe I’m just not as desperate as I was before.”

  “Bullshit,” Amy said. “You’ve always been reckless with tech stuff. Plus, you told me they used your college savings for Megan’s treatment. You need this as much as any of us, maybe more.”

  I sighed, there was no fooling Amy. I pulled out my phone and showed her the message from Melissa.

  “Oh my god. That fucking bitch. How did she even get the photos?”

  “She must have stolen my phone and hacked in.”

  “You’ve got to tell Greg.”

  “No way. She’s not kidding around. Melissa will totally share those pictures.”

  The thought of my nude pictures being passed around at school made my knees weak.

  “He’s got to know what kind of monster he’s dating.”

  “If he can’t see Melissa for who she is, that’s his problem. I’m not going to risk it. She’s won and she knows it.”

  “We hack into her computer, her phone. We wipe them clean. C’mon, you know you’re better at that stuff than she is. Brad could help.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. “Maybe,” I said. “But for now let’s just focus on launching SelfX for real. Megan might be fine for now, but there are more people out there the app could help. If my life is going to end, I’d like to at least have done it for a good cause.”

  I felt better after talking with Amy. She was right, I couldn’t let Melissa blackmail me for the rest of the year. Amy was better at sewing than I was, so I let her modify the dresses we’d picked and started working on something for Megan, a pair of large fairy wings. She said she wanted to be a ballerina, but I knew we could do better.

  When they were ready, I called her down to try them on.

  “They’re amazing!” she said, spinning around.

  “There’s a button hidden inside the left wing, at the bottom. Feel it?”

  Megan clicked the button, and her eyes went wide when the wings started fluttering like they were alive, and lit up with colorful lights. She ran into the kitchen to show them to Dad, then came back to give me a long hug.

  “Mom would have been proud,” Dad said.

  “Want to come over here and do makeup and stuff tomorrow before the dance?”

  “Actually,” Amy said, “Brad’s going to pick me up.”

  “Wait, like a date? Did he ask you? Why didn’t you tell me!”

  “I don’t know, it’s still kind of weird. I mean, it’s Brad.”

  “Yeah he’s cool though. I mean, when you get to know him. I get it. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “But maybe we can pick you up on the way and go together.”

  “Um, yeah maybe,” I said. “Or I’ll get another ride and see you there. I’ll text you.”

  I hadn’t told Amy about the messages from Greg yet. It was a long shot, but I couldn’t help wondering if he was actually going to pick me up tomorrow. But if him and Melissa had actually broken up, the whole school would know about it by now. There’s no way they could keep that a secret. A new messag
e made my phone ding and I pulled it out.

  Greg again. Almost like he knew I was thinking about him.

  Are you pissed at me? Did I do something?

  Shit. I didn’t want to reply, but I also didn’t want him sending me any more texts.

  Don’t text me. I wrote back, before turning off my phone.

  16

  The night of the dance I had butterflies in stomach. Each of us were supposed to do one big thing that fit our costume choices. I had the most experience upstacking though, and I’d been dying to try out some advanced features Amy and I hand-coded. I wanted to go as my avatar in WOL, but I couldn’t let Dad see me. We’d tripled up on bots and gotten the shifts to work in under an hour, but I waited until Dad had taken Megan out trick-or-treating before finishing the full effects.

  I made my ears longer and pointed, and then made my eyes twice as big usual. I looked like a cartoon version of myself. It was creepy, and awesome. Part of me wanted to wait and see if Greg actually did pick me up, but I was also terrified what Melissa would do if we showed up to the dance together.

  Instead I went to school early and waited for the others as more students trickled in. Amy was Jessica Rabbit—complete with impossible curves and a sequined red dress. Her hair had gone full red, so I changed mine to pink and purple. We’d never get away with this in public, people would stop and stare. We looked like freaks of nature. But for a Halloween party, it was perfect.

  Brad was dressed as Wolverine, with his hair slicked back and a white tank-top. The long claws sticking out between his knuckles were made of silver foam, but the shredded muscles were all him. When he flexed, his shoulders and biceps rippled with power, and he was so lean I could see the veins under his skin.

  David was waiting by the front door in a suit.

  “What’s your costume?” Amy asked. He was holding some kind of portable black light in each hand. When he turned them on and held them up near his face, his skin glowed green.

  “It’s a fluorescent protein, from jellyfish DNA,” David said. “The Chinese did it years ago with rabbits and pigs.”

  “You can glow in the dark?” Brad asked. “Wicked.”

  Inside, everyone had costumes, ranging from the lazy t-shirt, to the over-the-top cosplay outfits that must have taken weeks to build, but we still drew stares. People kept wiping at David’s glowing skin, looking for paint, and marveling at Brad’s muscles. A few guys asked about his work out routine. More than one girl ran her fingers across his chest—until Amy started slapping their hands away.

  The gym was transformed into an epic Halloween landscape. A thick carpet of leaves covered the floor, and smoke machines in the corner kept a rolling layer of white fog near the ground. Groves of paper-mache trees with knotted branches stretched towards the ceiling, and haphazardly strewn gravestones divided the area up into smaller sections. Hundreds of green lightsticks had been tossed everywhere, casting strange lights and shadows. The entire stage had rows of upper and bottom teeth, making it look like a giant witch’s mouth.

  “This is amazing!” I said. “Did you do all this?”

  “I helped,” Amy shrugged.

  We explored the activities and played some games. I lost count of the times somebody grabbed my ears, squeezing and pulling and trying to figure out how they were attached. But my eyes were the star attraction. People took so many selfies with me, my cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much.

  Brad and Amy started holding hands, which made things a little awkward for David and me, since we were together but not together. Amy wanted to take some pictures together in the photo booth, so we all squeezed in.

  “Where’s Greg?” David said. “He should be here.”

  “Over there with Melissa,” Amy pointed.

  I looked, and saw them out on the dance floor together. Greg’s hair was bright yellow and he had on a blue tux and black pants. He was Ken to Melissa’s Barbie—she was wearing a bright pink dress. She wrapped her arms around him, and the last bit of hope died in my chest. When Melissa caught my eye and flashed me a mischievous smile, I knew it was her. She’d used Greg’s phone to send the messages. She was hoping I’d get upset and make a scene. I wondered if he was in on it.

  We took the photos without him and waited for the film to develop. I was surprised to see how big my eyes had become. They looked even larger than before, but maybe they just seemed that way next to everyone else’s.

  David drifted off to talk with his friends, and Amy pulled Brad out to the dance floor. I took a break to get some punch, and almost ran into Greg when I turned around.

  “Hey,” he said. “You guys look amazing.”

  “You too,” I said. “Nice hair.”

  “I told her I bleached it,” he said. “She’ll be surprised when it goes back to normal tomorrow.”

  I smiled politely, but turned away from him and crossed my arms. I didn’t want to talk about Melissa.

  “Hey, are we cool?” Greg asked, stepping closer and touching my arm.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve just been, different recently. I thought maybe you were avoiding me. If I’ve done anything to upset you, I’m really sorry.”

  He had so much concern on his face, it took my breath away. He really was a nice guy. It wasn’t his fault he was dating satan’s daughter. He’d probably just never seen her fangs.

  “We’re cool,” I said finally.

  “Great,” he smiled. “Because I love this song.”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the dance floor next to Brad and Amy. He danced like a goofball, and I laughed. Then he took my hand and spun me around. For a moment, everything was perfect. Then the song changed, and everyone broke into couples. Greg and I stood awkwardly for a minute, then he put his arm around me and pulled me closer.

  We rocked softly to the music, as the heat grew between us.

  “Your eyes,” he murmured. “They really are something.”

  He smelled so good, I wanted to lean my head against his shoulder. But then I saw Melissa glaring at me and remembered why I couldn’t. I backed away suddenly, breaking out of his arms, and headed straight to the bathroom.

  I went into a stall by myself and closed the door. I needed to cool down. Greg was handsome, and charming. But he was here with Melissa. He shouldn’t have been dancing with me, in front of everyone.

  I heard some girls come in and ducked down in the stall.

  “Did you see her eyes? What a freak. But seriously, how did she even do that? The ears could be prosthetics, but those eyeballs. Gross.”

  Is that what everybody thought of me? That I was just a freak trying to get attention? I mean, I was, kind of; but not for me, for the app. I wanted people wondering and talking. That was the plan. But now I wondered what else people were saying about me behind my back.

  I heard the door open again, and Amy’s voice called my name.

  “Are you in here? They’re calling for you.”

  “What?” I asked, coming out of the stall.

  “The costume contest, you won. You’ve got to go up on stage.”

  We hurried back outside in time to hear the announcer call my name one more time. A spotlight found me as I climbed the stairs, and I heard murmurs ripple through the crowd. A large screen was set up behind the screen and a camera somewhere was zooming in on my face.

  In the bright lights of the stage, the camera picked up every detail. Everybody was looking closely for seams, lines, glue or tape—but of course there weren’t any. My enhancements were all organic. Most people had gotten used to my altered appearance slowly over the past few weeks, but nobody had taken a clear look. I started to sweat as everyone stared openly, marveling at my unnaturally large eyes. I saw several of them pull out cell phones and start recording.

  The principal, Mr. Deckler, handed me a $100 gift certificate and a bag of candy corn as a prize. I shook his hand, but when I turned to leave the stage, gasps erupted from the crowd, followed by gig
gles and pointing. My eyes somehow connected with Melissa’s, who was proudly wearing a cruel smirk, and my heart plummeted like a stone. I turned around in dread, to see that the live video feed on the screen behind me had been replaced by naked pictures of me. The ones I’d taken for science. The ones Melissa stole.

  Words were splashed across the photo montage with dripping red text. Tears welled up in my eyes as people started reading them out loud, then shouting the names at me. Slut. Whore. One word was picked up more than the others. Fake. It grew into a chant, and then broke into applause as I ran off the stage.

  But something was wrong. My vision was blurry, and not from the tears. Everything was glowing with strange light, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. I headed towards the front exit, but then everything went white and silent. The world disappeared, all sights and sounds swallowed up by the infinite pillow, the white buffer, the void. Unfortunately my feet were still moving.

  I felt a sharp pain as I tripped down the front stairs of the building and hit my knee, then my forehead, against the pavement. I lay there, stunned, feeling the light raindrops and cool air against my cheek, until my vision cleared. When it did, it was different. Everything was in hyper detail, and far too colorful. Melissa was standing above me, and some kind of green glow surrounded her body. I could see the flecks in her eyes and the mascara on her eyelashes and the threads of the fabric on her dress.

  She smiled, pulling her camera out to take a picture.

  “This is where you belong,” she said. “Rolling in the dirt, like a parasite. Say cheese!”

  “Why do you hate me,” I groaned, pushing myself up with my palms. My head was throbbing and I could see blood on my knee. My dress and half my face was dripping with mud.

  “Because you’re just so goddamn ordinary. You might have fooled everyone else with your new look, but I know you’re still a loser. You won’t steal my boyfriend by slutting it up.”