Here, she gazed upon upwards of forty different ensembles and didn’t want any of them. All the sheer, narrow dresses barely let her walk at a full stride. Wearing any of them out in the real world would be dangerous: she couldn’t run. Not to mention, none of them offered much protection against the cold. Summer only had another month left; she wondered if the heat in her real home worked. The thought that she’d never be there again to find out got her lip quivering.
Maya looked down at her bare feet. Maybe if I stay in my nightdress, I’ll get kidnapped again.
She retreated from the closet and took a seat on the foot of the bed, waiting for Sarah to wake. Like her old room, this one contained no toys, dolls, or anything intended to be decorative or warm the space. Pale grey walls, two windows covered in electronic blinds, and a closet with louvered doors.
Prison, first class.
The dark thought that Vanessa had finally given her a doll—Sarah—to keep her company made her cringe.
Eventually Sarah stirred, sucking a deep breath in through her nose before opening her eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Sarah crawled off the bed and trudged out of the bedroom. Maya followed her until halfway down the hall where they split up―Sarah ducking into the bathroom while Maya continued to the kitchenette. She pulled a chair over and climbed up to kneel on the counter. Two cabinets above the Hydra held four large boxes of meal trays. She spent a few minutes perusing the breakfast options. The waffle made her cry a little, thinking of Genna and her cereal, so she took an omelet.
“Careful, you’re going to fall.” Sarah walked up and put a hand on her back.
“What do you want to eat?”
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Maya held up her tray, showing a picture of an omelet and home fries on the foil cover.
“Sure.”
With two omelets in hand, Maya climbed down and put one in the Hydra. Sarah studied the machine, enthralled. At the push of a button, it began the process of warming and rehydrating the contents of the octagonal black plastic tray. Forty seconds later, the foil cover swelled, emitting steam.
“That’s kinda cool,” muttered Sarah. “Never saw one of these working before.”
“Foz has one, but he’s never going to sell it for what he’s asking. No one out there has that much money.”
“Are they really that expensive?”
Maya shook her head. “No. Not here anyway.” She opened the door and pulled the tray out by pinching the thin edges. “Here. Take this one. It’s hot. Don’t touch anything but the lip around the outside.”
“Okay.”
Once her breakfast finished in the machine, Maya joined her at the table and peeled the covering off. The spongy yellow egg-like substance didn’t hold a candle to Naida’s handmade omelet, but she couldn’t say it tasted bad.
After eating, Sarah wandered out into the living room. When she got close to the front door, an electronic male voice broke the silence.
“I’m sorry. You are not authorized to operate this door.”
Sarah gave the ceiling the middle finger and kept walking to the windows. She parted the vertical blinds and stuck her head up to the glass. She shivered. “Holy crap. We’re so high up.”
“Yeah.”
Blinds fluttered, clattering against the glass as Sarah moved away, heading for the giant flat panel television. “So what’s this do?”
“It’s a TV. Watch shows, surf the AuthNet, movies… video games.”
“Oh. I didn’t think TVs got this big.”
Sarah headed down the hall, exploring, with Maya in tow. This apartment didn’t have a large patio off the living room where a helicopter could land like the penthouse she’d spent five years in, only normal-sized windows. The exits consisted of the front door and one silver metal hatch labeled ‘FIRE,’ which wouldn’t unlock unless the building’s alarm system detected an actual fire.
Maya examined the windows, noting not one of them could open, and followed her friend’s wandering until they stopped at the bathroom door. Sarah whistled at the electronic tub, digital control panel for a toilet, powered soap dispensers on the sink, and all. She pointed at a bank of buttons on the wall above the tub. “What’s that do?”
“I showed you last night.”
Sarah traced a finger over the controls. “I wasn’t really listening.”
“It’s for the bath.” Maya climbed over to stand in the tub, and indicated the top row. “These buttons add suds. This one sets the fragrance.” She gestured at the next row of buttons. “This is the control for the water jets, and the last set is like bath bombs.”
“Wow…” Sarah blinked. “Uhh, what’s a bath bomb? Do they explode?”
Maya couldn’t quite find the mood to laugh, but did smile as she explained them.
“People spend money on that?” asked Sarah. “What’s that hole?”
“It washes your hair…” Maya glanced at her friend’s past-butt-length red squiggles. “You might have too much for it, but please don’t cut it. It’s so pretty.”
Sarah almost smiled.
“Like this.” Still dressed, Maya reclined as if taking a bath. After using some buttons to adjust the elevation of the unit, she leaned her head back into the opening and pretended to soak in a luxurious mass of suds. “You soak and the machine in the wall washes and fixes your hair.”
“Fixes?”
“Like combing and brushing as well as washing. I think it can even do straightening.”
Sarah folded her arms. “If that machine tried to straighten my hair, it would probably burn itself out.”
Maya laughed, picturing the machine overloading.
“So, what’s that?” asked Sarah, turning her attention to the control panel on the toilet. “What’s all this stuff? I’ve never seen a toilet with blinking lights and buttons before.”
“Most of that is the self-cleaning electronics.” Maya stepped out of the tub. “No one ever visits. There’s not even a cleaning person or anything. I mean, the last place had these little round robots that did the floors. This place is bigger; maybe they’ll have someone show up.”
“I guess Vanessa figured out she messed up, huh?” Sarah put an arm around her shoulders.
“Huh?”
“She didn’t leave you alone this time.”
Maya clamped on and cried. Once she regained her composure, she managed a sad giggle. “You’re still trying to take care of me.”
“I’m the oldest and we don’t have parents.”
Maya hung her head, thinking of Genna.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want to be here.” Sarah led her out into the hall and into the never-used master bedroom. A few vases perched on narrow tables and an abstract sculpture of black glass as tall as Maya that could’ve been a dancer or an avalanche stood in the back corner. “It’s like a palace.”
“I was so lonely.” She tugged Sarah back out into the hall and pointed at the video phone in the wall. “I’d call Vanessa every night, hoping she would come home and spend time with me, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t even answer to say good night.”
“Sorry.”
Maya looked her in the eye. “I’d rather live in a plastiboard box in an alley with you and Genna and all the others than be here.”
Sarah hugged her.
“Even if dosers steal everything we have.”
Sarah laughed. “I’m laughing so I don’t start crying again.”
Reality fell upon her shoulders with the weight of a collapsing high-rise building. Vanessa had won. Nothing Maya did now would change that her brief taste of having a real mother had ended. A feeble itch to escape reared its head and withered. Why bother running? Genna was dead; she had nowhere to go, certainly nowhere worth risking the lives of her friends. Strength fled from her legs, dumping Maya to the carpet in the hallway. Quiet tears ran from a glassy stare into nowhere. Sarah said a few things, but her voice had lost any meaning, a mere warble f
rom above.
Thin arms encircled her. Sarah grabbed her own wrist in front of Maya’s chest and hauled her upright. When she refused to stand by herself, Sarah backed toward the living room, grunting while dragging her along. After depositing her on the sofa, she wrapped Maya with a nearby blanket, and sat beside her.
The image of Genna taking a bullet in the chest and collapsing behind the parked car replayed over and over in Maya’s mind while Vanessa’s laughter echoed overhead. Hugging her legs, she cried onto her knees without making much noise. Sarah sat beside her, sniffling as well while murmuring comforting things. After a while, she emitted a discontented grunt and leapt to her feet, causing Maya to wobble on the cushions. She didn’t pay much attention to the blur of red hair moving off to the right. Before long, a harsh buzz came from the front door. Sarah crossed the room to the kitchenette, and the sounds of rummaging filled in the silence. Again, the blur of red crossed Maya’s periphery.
An indistinct haze of minutes later, a bang made Maya jump.
She wiped at her eyes and peered over the back of the couch.
Sarah lay flat on her back by the door, a wisp of smoke trailing up from the access panel and a common table knife in the girl’s hand. Her hair fluffed up, far too long to stand fully on end.
“Are you okay?” whispered Maya.
“I would not recommend doing that again,” said the house AI.
Sarah raised her left arm and extended a middle finger to the ceiling. “Hit something I shouldn’t have. I’m okay. I don’t think I’m gonna pick this lock with a knife.”
“I would not recommend attempting that again,” said the house AI.
After waving the middle finger back and forth a few times, Sarah groaned and stood up.
“Don’t hurt yourself.” Maya curled up against the sofa back, her body wracked with silent sobs as her sorrow over Genna’s death grew painful.
“Hmm.” Sarah returned to the kitchenette.
A faint clank of a knife being returned to a drawer full of silverware preceded her padding out and approaching the living room window. She crawled in between the vertical blinds and felt around the sides. Soft knocks and thumps accompanied muted grunts. Before long, she went down the hall. Maya remained on the couch, wondering if she could say something bad enough to Vanessa to make the woman kill her.
Mom would be pissed at me for thinking that.
She pictured Genna angry, pointing, upset for her teasing at the idea of suicide. Worse, if she made Vanessa mad enough to kill her, she’d certainly hurt Sarah too. Maya grabbed one of the small green throw pillows, into which she bawled for several minutes. Sarah tromped back in grumbling. At the sight of Maya lost to uncontrollable grief, she hurried over, climbed up onto the couch, and pulled her into her lap.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.”
Maya sniffled. “I know.”
“I can’t find a way to get out of here, but I’m not done looking.”
“Why?” Maya wiped her face on her arm. “Don’t bother. We can’t get out. Even if we did, Vanessa will kill everyone.”
Sarah rested her chin on Maya’s shoulder and rocked her side to side. “We’ll figure something out. You’re smart, right?”
“It’s no use. Where would we even go?” Maya fought the urge to break down again, grief clear in her voice. “I don’t want my mom to be dead. I want my mom.”
Sarah squeezed her. “I miss my dad too.”
“Maya,” said the house AI. “Your mother is very much alive.”
An explosion of hope warmed Maya’s chest. She sat upright, staring at the ceiling wide-eyed. “Really? That man didn’t kill her? Where is she?”
“Presently, your mother is in her office attending to a conference call.”
Maya crumpled, clutching her gut as if Moth had punched her.
“Wow,” whispered Sarah. “Whoever that is, is a real asshole. Don’t listen to him.”
“No!” Maya flailed away from Sarah and jumped to her feet. “That bitch is not my mother!” Overcome by pure rage, she looked around for something to smash and zeroed in on a two-foot-tall square silver vase sitting on a tiny table by the wall near the front door holding four imitation pussy willow strands and a bunch of glass beads.
As soon as she grabbed it, the AI said, “Feel free to break whatever you do not mind your friend being punished for.”
“Uhh…” Sarah gave the finger to the ceiling again.
Maya froze with the vase over her head in both hands. Anger melted to dread. Before her arms shook to the point of dropping it by accident, she eased it back onto the table and ran to the sofa.
“Your mother does not want you hurt, Maya.” The AI simulated a sigh. “She is merely disappointed in you. If you only lived up to her expectations, your mother would warm up.”
Maya fell heavy on the couch, arms folded across her legs, staring down at her toes. “My mother is dead.”
“I hate that guy already,” said Sarah, leaning close and rubbing Maya’s back.
“It’s not a guy. It’s an AI. Artificial intelligence. Basically a robot babysitter because Vanessa can’t be bothered to even talk to me when it doesn’t make money. She wouldn’t even hire a real person to watch me.”
“I do not get sick. I do not sleep. I do not require vacation time, food, or lodging,” said the AI. “It is quite a logical choice.”
Maya flopped back on the couch. “He’s totally got the emotional support thing down.”
Sarah’s face did something between a grimace and wanting to laugh.
“Hmm.” Maya narrowed her eyes at the entertainment center. She pushed off the sofa and plopped down in front of the TV, opened the glass-doored cabinet, and pulled out a keyboard. “Since we’re stuck here, wanna play a game?”
Sarah trailed over and sat beside her. “What kind of game?”
“Got a bunch.” Maya booted the terminal system.
A user login ‘M_OMAN’ flashed by too fast to react to, and the 110-inch TV flooded with a desktop loaded with icons. Damn. Guess I’m on lockdown. I wonder if the Hangar has a ’net site? Maybe I can make contact. She opened an AuthNet browser. It showed an ‘access denied’ page, even to the primary search engine.
“What the… is the net down?” She grumbled.
“You don’t have access to the AuthNet,” said the house AI. “Vanessa has instructed me to block all outside connections until further notice.”
“What about e-learns or research for school assignments?” Maya glared at the ceiling.
“You have already completed coursework equivalent to high-school graduation. I believe Vanessa feels you are too immature for more advanced courses yet.”
“Bullshit. She thinks I’m going to do something.”
“Well,” said the AI. “Wouldn’t you? I may lack any sense of human emotion, but I am capable of understanding the dynamic between you and your mother has changed. You have misbehaved and are… I believe the term is ‘grounded.’ It would be best for you if you accepted your position and stopped trying to make life difficult for your mother.”
Almost in tears from anger, she checked her games folder. All but two remained. The missing ones required ’net access for multiplayer. She didn’t feel much like playing at the moment but opened a racing game where players controlled flying vehicles shaped somewhat like motorcycles without wheels. After rummaging the cabinet, she handed Sarah a controller. As much as she wanted to escape, she didn’t really have anywhere to go and didn’t want to test Vanessa’s threat to kill everyone. If the woman made good on knocking down the whole building, more than the people living in it would be hurt.
“You can play. I’m too angry right now.”
Sarah took the controller with some reluctance, and after a little coaching, started playing. Her eager, awestruck reaction to a game with modern graphics compared to the ancient machines in the basement back home lifted Maya’s spirits. After watching her friend twisting her body with each turn, roaring whe
never she had to shoot an obstacle out of her way, and cheering each time she reached a checkpoint to add a little more time to the clock, Maya caved in and joined as a second player.
If she had to accept being locked up to keep her friends alive, so be it. At least the video game appeared to take Sarah’s mind off her father’s death for a little while. Unfortunately, every time the girl squeaked, cheered, or grumbled in response to the screen, Maya dreaded what might happen to her if Vanessa got angry.
23
The Irony of Lies
Hours passed careening down virtual racetracks, from tubes to half tunnels to courses defined by floating rings. Maya had played these games to death, but she’d never had a friend to share them with before. Two-player was way more fun than she remembered these games being alone. Maybe she could tolerate being kept here. Perhaps she might even manage to convince Vanessa to stop using Fade on people.
Maybe she’d sprout wings.
The game paused.
“Hey,” said Sarah. “Why’d you stop it?”
“I thought you did.” Maya blinked.
“Maya, it is time for dinner,” said the AI.
“What are you making, Dad?” asked Maya.
The computer didn’t reply, nor did the game respond to the un-pause command.
With a heavy sigh and an eye roll, Maya set the controller down and stood. Sarah followed her to the kitchenette.
“I know why you stay in your nightgown all the time.” Sarah slid into a chair.
“Why?” Maya climbed up onto the counter and grabbed two Hydra trays without looking.
Sarah stretched forward over the table, resting her head on her extended arm. “Because your closet is full of tight, shiny dresses. They look so uncomfortable.”
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