“Congratulations!” someone shouted at me.
People roared.
Congratulations?
I looked around, searching for a way through the mob. Inara and I usually met down the block. The only open space was in the center of the street, so that’s where I headed. Other Singles followed.
Cecily Gomez was right behind me. “This is insane.”
“I don’t even know what this is,” I said. As Singles we weren’t accustomed to being watched. Singles didn’t attract voyeurs. “They’re cheering for us like we’re celebrities.”
Jayson Venice caught up to us. “What did we do to deserve this?”
Cecily shrugged. “Stopped sucking down capital now that Service is canceled?”
“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’s kind of fun.”
I looked at him. “You think this is fun?”
Jayson shrugged. “My surrogate family got in touch with me for the first time in two years, wanting to know if I was excited about the border closing.”
“Mine, too.” Cecily huffed. “I was surprised they remembered my name.” She eyed me. “At least not all of us have that problem.”
“I know I got lucky with the Sachses,” I acknowledged, turning away.
I kept searching the crowd for Inara. That’s when I began to read the posters people held high in the air.
You are saved! flashed across one of them.
Another said, Our Under Eighteens are liberated!
No more buyouts! said yet another.
The crowd was treating the border closing as cause for celebration. An excuse to skip work. A number of citizens had downloaded Apps that turned their hair green or blue so they would stand out. There were men dressed in tuxes and black hats, and more than a few women sparkled with jewels draped across their wrists and necks and had coats of animal fur pulled across their shoulders, the heads of the creatures dangling down their fronts, eyes still blinking. People held long thin flutes that fizzed and popped with golden liquid. They cheered and clinked glasses.
People chanted as we passed. “We are finally free! You are free!”
“No more Service!”
“Down with the unplugged!”
“The body is a house of death!”
“The Race for the Cure must be won!”
A man in a glittering suit reached out to grab my hand. “Congratulations,” he said giddily. “You’re among the last of the Under Eighteens to be plugged in!”
I yanked my hand away and kept moving. Of course, he was right. With the borders closed, no one else would be uploaded to the App World. Within two decades, Under Eighteens would be no more when the youngest of us reached the age of majority. The man spoke as though it was a good thing that the population would be capped.
People tossed confetti and streamers.
Did everyone feel this way?
Anger flashed through my brain. Now that Service was canceled, the wealthy would be even wealthier. They wouldn’t have to spend any capital to stop their children from having to unplug.
Well, lucky them.
I hurried along, raking my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the tiny flecks of colorful paper clinging to it. My eyes burned but I tried to gain back control of my emotions. I would not let these people get to me. I looked around at my fellow Singles, searching the crowd for a sympathetic nod.
What I saw was startling.
Sateen was a little ways ahead. She was smiling, her hand in the air, waving at our audience like some sort of queen.
That’s when I began to notice the Apps.
Someone tossed Sateen an icon and she caught it, grinning at the free download in her hand. She squirreled it away in her account, only to look up and find another on its way. Other Singles saw what was happening and followed her lead. Soon the atmosphere was littered with so many icons the sky glittered and flashed. Singles were grabbing at the air, greedy for the kind of App riches we typically only dreamed about. Soon there were boys wrestling on the ground, confetti and streamers piling up on their backs, and girls shrieking at one another over whose icon was whose. I passed Jayson and Cecily shouting about which one of them would keep the Sports Star App dangling above their heads.
The crowd looked at us like we were animals. They threw Apps like they were raw pieces of meat and we were a pack of hungry dogs. We behaved exactly how they imagined, too, clawing our way over one another for whatever we could get our hands on.
My cheeks flamed. I covered my face with my hands to hide these flickers of shame on my virtual skin. I was part of a group to whom people tossed their scraps. Singles rewarded for the mere fact that we would no longer be allowed to unplug and see our Keeper families, symbolic of the end of an era so many people had obviously resented. Amid the frenzy, more App icons rained down. I gave up trying to shake away the streamers and confetti. Twirls of fluorescent purple and green decorated my hair. When my hands slid from my eyes again, I saw Adam. He stood unmoving across the street, a boy statue on the boulevard.
We watched each other through the chaos.
I nodded at him, a strange calm falling across me.
This time he didn’t sneer. He nodded back, only slightly, but enough that I saw him do it. Then his attention caught on something else, his eyes narrowing. I searched the crowd for the object of his gaze, but then someone called my name.
“Skye!” Inara’s voice cut through the noise all around. “Over here!” Skye, look to your left, she chatted in my mind.
I turned and saw her blond hair shining bright in the sun, lighting her up. She waved frantically, beckoning me from the crowd. I glanced back at Adam but he was gone, lost among the other Singles. Inara disappeared around the corner and I went after her, pushing through the distracted onlookers. They were like a forest of trees, each one of them growing taller than the person in front of them with the help of an App to better view the chaos. When I turned down the next street, Inara was waiting there, her father’s long black car already running.
“Are you okay?” she asked as I approached.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
She gave me a hug. “This is crazy.”
“Let’s go to school. The crowds won’t be able to get to us there.” The downloading of Apps and the presence of voyeurs were prohibited inside the building.
Inara looked at me uncertainly. “Are you sure you don’t want a day off?” Her eyes sought the ground. “You know, um, to celebrate?”
My mouth opened in surprise. “How could you even ask that?”
Inara shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t want to lie to you, Skye. Like I said last night, this is probably for the best.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Being in the body for a whole year, being trapped in the Real World with the Keepers, it could’ve . . . it could’ve killed us. The body is fragile and susceptible to disease, and now we don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Her eyes were pleading. “I know you wanted to see your mother and your sister, but I’m your sister, too. You’re the only one I have. You don’t have to worry about being separated from your surrogate family anymore. Isn’t that worth celebrating?”
I busied myself opening the door of the car. “Sure, of course,” I lied, feeling ungrateful as I got inside. Inara joined me in the backseat, but I didn’t look at her. Soon we were speeding off to school in silence. Even though I was with my best friend in the entire App World, who thought of herself as my sister, I’d never felt so alone.
Most of my memories of the Real World were hazy or quick, but I remembered the day I plugged in like it was yesterday. My mother and sister brought me to a beautiful old train station in New Port City, the one that wasn’t used for trains anymore. At five, I was old enough to understand I was going on an exciting, virtual trip, yet still too young to grasp that it would be years before I’d return.
When it was time to leave, my mother and sister lied to me.
“We’ll see you soon, my Skye, my heart, m
y love, my darling.” My mother covered my face in kisses. I had to wipe the red smear of her lipstick from my skin.
I looked up into her wide blue eyes—eyes just like mine. They were glassy. Her tears frightened me. “When will I be back?” I asked. An exact count of days would help me get through the sadness. In my left hand, a soft blue bunny dangled toward the ground, my favorite toy. It was nearly the same hue as my T-shirt and pants. Blue was my favorite color.
My sister, Jude, put her arm around me. “Stop worrying, Bean. Soon you’ll be having so much virtual fun you’ll forget all about us.”
That was when another woman, the Keeper in charge of children plugging in, came through the door marked Departures. I don’t remember her face, just that she was tall, impossibly tall, it seemed. So much bigger than me. Her pale, loose garments were bright against her skin.
My mother crouched to my level, two matching streams of water running down her cheeks. “Blue like the ocean and blue like the sky, blue like the sapphire color of your eyes,” she sang softly, her voice hoarse. “You’ll always be my blue Skye.”
The tall Keeper took my hand. “It’s time to go.”
“No, I won’t,” I said, my mouth an angry pout.
My sister tried to smile but I could tell she wanted to cry like my mother. “You won’t what? You won’t go?” she asked.
“No. I won’t forget about you,” I said. The woman took me into her arms when I wouldn’t budge. I looked back at my family one last time. They were waving, tears pouring down their faces. “I won’t,” I called back.
For a long time, I wrote to them. With the help of one of the School Apps, I composed short letters to the Real World, the best I could manage.
Dear Mom, I love you so much! I miss you and Jude, Love your blue Skye.
Dear Jude, I wish you could read me a story. Love, Bean.
Mom and Jude, when are you coming to live here too? Love Skylar-Bean.
Eventually, the notes I composed grew more worried, more insecure. I didn’t bother to sign them—I didn’t feel like I needed to.
Did I do something bad to make you send me away?
Mom and Jude, do you not love me anymore?
Have you forgotten me completely?
Each time I finished a new message, Mrs. Sachs would help me post it. At first, back when the letters were sweet, she treated it like a game, checking my spelling and teaching me how to upload communications. Every day I would check my mailbox, and every day I would be disappointed there was nothing from my mother or sister. Months passed. Then years. My insistence that Mrs. Sachs help post my letters wore her down. She became less and less enthusiastic with each new message and her excuses about why I heard nothing back became repetitive and hollow. Then one day, when Inara was busy with homework and I asked yet again for her help, she led me to one of the couches in the living room. The two of us sat down.
“I think you’re old enough to know the truth,” she said.
I had just become an eight.
“What truth?” There was a tightness in my voice. After three years of hearing nothing from my family, even a little girl gets suspicious.
“About your family, Skye. Their intentions for your future.”
I nodded. Everything started to fade as she spoke. Emptied of color and light.
“Your mother and sister aren’t coming to get you,” Mrs. Sachs said carefully. “They’ve taken on the important, selfless role of Keeper of Bodies. By doing so, they gave you a better life. But by plugging you in, they gave up all contact. They aren’t going to respond to your letters, my dear. They can’t. There isn’t any point to checking your mailbox for messages. Communication is prohibited. Sending letters to the Real World is only pretend.”
Stars clouded my head and made it hard to speak. “But why?”
Mrs. Sachs took my hand. “Imagine if your family was writing you all the time, telling you about life in the Real World, or worse, how they were suffering. The law prohibiting communication between Singles and their families is there to free you, so you can live your virtual life unburdened by them.” She shifted a little, the bright flash of her earrings a shock in all the dullness. “Not knowing helps alleviate the stress and despair that comes with feeling so divided.”
Even at eight, I knew what Mrs. Sachs meant. It was basic worlds history. Before the first plugs, an early version of the virtual world existed. People carried around handheld devices that allowed them access to it. But the maintenance of two entirely different selves—one real, one virtual—was confusing and exhausting. People became so addicted to looking at their tablets that they stopped going outside and even stopped talking to their real friends and loved ones. The App World saved everyone this division by liberating people from their bodies and allowing them a permanent virtual existence.
But then, what about Singles like me, whose very presence in the App World was the result of dividing a family?
When I didn’t respond, Mrs. Sachs sighed. “It’s better this way, Skye. It’s easier. You’ll realize this too, one day.”
I could barely breathe. “So I’ll never talk to my mother and sister again?”
Mrs. Sachs looked away. She was silent a long time, staring out the window at the tall buildings in the distance. “No. Well. Unless . . .” She stopped.
“Unless what?”
“All children are supposed to unplug for Service. It’s meant as a time to experience the Real World, and for Singles to see their families again.”
“I want to go. I want to go now.” My voice cracked. “I need to see them.” All the questions I wanted to ask my mother and sister swirled in my brain like a bowl of alphabet soup. Did you abandon me? Do you still love me? Are your lives better without me? Did you really want to give me a better future or was plugging me in just an excuse to make me go away?
Mrs. Sachs shook her head. “When you’re a seventeen you’ll be allowed to go.”
I held up my fingers and began to count. I was eight and then I would be nine. Ten. Eleven. And so on. “That’s so far away.”
“Skye . . .” Mrs. Sachs hesitated again. She kept staring at my hand in hers. “Service is dangerous—bodies are dangerous. There are ways to avoid the Service requirement. Inara loves you and it would break our hearts to see her lose your friendship. Mr. Sachs and I are willing to do what it takes so both of you can stay safe in the App World.”
“But my mother and sister—” I started.
“Don’t worry about that now.” Mrs. Sachs got up. “By the time the decision is upon you, I bet you’ll have forgotten all about the Real World and everyone in it.”
I stood, my virtual legs shaky. “I don’t think so.”
Mrs. Sachs gave me a hug. “You’re so young. A lot can happen in nine years.”
This was true. Learning that one day I could see my family again gave me a goal and a purpose. And Mrs. Sachs was right about something else. Some of the pain I’d felt about not hearing from my family, the fear that they’d forgotten me or had never loved me, was lifted with the news that communication was prohibited. Enough that I felt lighter. More hopeful. While it would be difficult to wait so long to see my family again, I was patient. I could hold out for Service.
When Mrs. Sachs headed back into the kitchen that day, I returned to Inara’s room. She was sitting on her bed, downloading her homework. I arranged myself on her violet-covered blanket. “Guess what?”
Inara paused her download to focus on me. “What?”
“When we become seventeens,” I said, feeling important, “we’re going to unplug.”
Inara and I finally arrived at school. Students were celebrating just like the revelers in the street. No one seemed to care about what was happening to those left behind in the Real World. Even Rain was forgotten. Singles were acting like royalty, as though we were the only ones affected by the border closing. As though it was really about us. Everyone was drunk on their new taste of fame.
“I was shocked at first,
like everyone else,” Sateen was saying to Simon Best, Inara’s crush.
Inara stopped to listen.
“Then when it started to sink in,” Sateen went on, “I realized this world would be a better place without anyone unplugging or anyone else plugging in.” She ran a hand through her hair. It still had a faint shimmer to it, even though the Apps had mostly drained away by now since she was inside the school. “What a relief not to have to unplug!” She looked around, taking in the other students standing in groups, silently chatting one another in their minds or whooping it up loudly in the halls. “Now, it’s just us here. We’re the last children of the App World.”
Simon placed a hand against the wall next to Sateen. “Yeah, it’s crazy to think about it. This world is closed.” He leaned closer, like he might kiss her.
Inara bristled, her skin alive with static. I reached for her, my fingers nearly burned by the sparks that flashed and sizzled.
“We’ve got enough people to last us, well, forever,” Simon added.
“I kind of like the idea,” Sateen said. She tilted her chin upward and to the side, ready for Simon to make his move. “Suddenly everything seems so intimate,” she breathed.
Inara’s mouth was set in a tight, thin line. Let’s get out of here, she chatted me privately. She walked away so quickly it was practically a run. “I can’t bear to watch that girl act like she’s so special,” she said, out loud this time. Tiny black char marks began to dot her fluffy purple sweater. “Sateen was just a boring Single yesterday and she’ll be a boring Single again tomorrow.”
I winced. Did Inara think I was just another boring Single, too? “We’re headed to assembly, right?” I asked, changing the subject. Reminders about it were pinging all over the hallways. Notices scrolled bright across the wall in all caps, shouting for our attention.
“Yeah. I guess.”
We moved through the crowd. “Maybe they’ll tell us news of the Real World,” I said. “Maybe that’s what they want to talk to us about.”
Inara shrugged. “I’m sure your mother and sister are fine, Skye.”
I shook my head. I wonder if they’re dead went my mind. I couldn’t bear to actually speak those words.
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