So he skips the Touch champagne, opting instead to stroll through the crowd. His gaze flicks over the outlandish outfits. Hats two feet tall. Sparkly platform heels so high they would never be possible in the real-world. Fairy wings. Purple hair designed to look like a cascade of wisteria. Everyone invited to this party is someone, and they all want to stand out.
Gun wears a plain tuxedo adorned with multicolored stick figures that breakdance across his back and down the sleeves of his jacket. The getup was Maia’s idea. She wears a matching black dress featuring ballerina stick figures. The two of them look as ridiculous as everyone else in this place. At least he talked Maia out of matching unicorn heads. A brother had to draw the line somewhere.
Many people, already thoroughly dosed with Touch, try to rub up against him. Gun expertly rebuffs them, continuing to roam the birthday site.
At the far end of a ballroom, Gun spots Crawler, the famous Vex host. He’s surrounded by at least a dozen people, all of them riveted as he regales them with a dramatic story. His suit, comprised of millions of miniature Wall Crawlers, writhes and shifts around his body.
Gun gives Crawler a wide berth, wanting to avoid the Wall Crawlers that are no doubt cruising the crowd and catching people in compromising situations. He’s surprised Claudine let him bring the Wall Crawlers into her party. This reinforces the rumor of their mutually beneficial relationship.
Nate installed an invisible button on the palm of his avatar. As Gun continues through the mansion, he presses the button to activate his Bifocals. The virtual world around him changes.
In front of him, the woman dressed like a mermaid is reduced to bits of code in the shape of a mermaid silhouette. He’s not as savvy with computer code as Nate and the Dread Twins, but he knows enough to discern the mermaid avatar is armored up with anti-malware code. She’s protected against hackers and spyware.
What she’s not protected against is the Touch coursing through her code. It’s a spinning blur of fluorescent green ones and zeroes that pour around one another in a rush.
Most people are in a similar state, their standard protection codes blitzed through with Touch. If Gun wanted to play dirty—which, he has to admit, does hold some appeal—he could attack the party with Black Tech. Of course that would gain him nothing more than a host of enemies, which isn’t his goal today.
His view of the code only lasts a second before reverting back to normal vision. He refrains from using the Bifocals for another snapshot. As much as he’d enjoy checking out the code of all the partygoers, he’s on a schedule. He has less than thirty minutes before he’s supposed to meet Sulan, and he doesn’t intend to be late.
What he needs to see is the code used to create this place. He needs his Lice to follow Sulan and all the other kids into VHS. In order to do that, they need to be able to slip through the school’s IDS, Intrusion Detection System. There’s no saying the protections will be identical, but it’s worth a shot.
He wanders the upper halls before at last finding a pair of double doors that lead onto a vast veranda. Avatars are scattered across it, many of them draped across one another on oversized chaise lounges. Gun reaches the railing and looks out, activating the Bifocals.
The protective code surrounding this place is like nothing he’s ever seen. It’s an ever-changing kaleidoscope, the ones and zeros changing shapes as they squiggle and slide in and around each other. The numbers compress and elongate and twist before bouncing back to their original shapes.
He presses the button on his palm, snapping pictures. The images are relayed back to Nate and the Dread Twins for analysis. Gun wants to jump back into the real-world, but it’s too soon. It’ll look suspicious.
“Oh, Gun,” says a familiar, syrupy voice. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Gun forces his shoulders to relax and arms himself with his dimple, turning to face his ex. “Andrea.”
It’s been two months since he dumped her. He knew she’d be here, but hoped to avoid her.
She wears an outrageous avatar that’s more peacock than human. Long legs protrude from a female form covered with iridescent blue feathers. She’s enhanced her cleavage to be three times its normal size. A huge spray of peacock feathers sprout from her back. Turquoise hair flows from her scalp.
“This is Gerald.” Andrea drapes herself on the man next to her. He’s in his own ridiculous anamorphic getup that’s part man, part lion. He and Andrea look perfect next to each other.
“Nice to meet you, Gerald.” Gun doesn’t bother extending his hand.
“Gerald and I are planning a trip to Paris,” Andrea coos, beaming at Gerald. “He has an apartment right next to the Louvre. You know the Parisian government has blockaded the city from refugees? The city is an homage to Pre-‘Fault times.”
Andrea rattles on. Gun does his best to look interested and make small talk. The nanobots he injected into Hardon have been doing their job. Anderson has first-hand intel on the deal her father is brokering for a steel mine in China.
“Andrea, there you are.” Claudine materializes beside them, trailing a waiter who carries a tray with the fluorescent green champagne. “You promised to share a toast with me.”
Before Andrea or anyone else can object, Claudine has glasses in all of their hands. Gun does not like the glint in her eye as she shoves a glass at him. He takes it, swirling the liquid but not consuming any.
“To exes,” Claudine says, raising a glass. “May the memories of our times together be buried under the happiness of the present.”
“Cheers!” Andrea enthuses. She throws back her champagne.
It takes all Gun’s willpower not to roll his eyes. He watches the others drink.
“You won’t join us in our toast?” Claudine asks after downing her glass.
Gun gives her a flat look and doesn’t reply.
“I’d think you’d embrace the sentiment.” Claudine stalks toward him, swallowing the last of her Touch. “After all, you have more exes than the rest of us.” She reaches out a hand, as though she intends to trail it across his jaw.
Gun tenses, about to sidestep her hand. Maia comes to is rescue. Slinging an arm around him, she grins at those gathered. She expertly positions herself to cut off Claudine.
“Is my brother bothering you?” Maia doesn’t refrain from the Touch champagne; she chugs it down like it’s beer.
“We were just catching up.” Claudine’s smile doesn’t touch her eyes. Under her breath, she murmurs, “Bald boys suck.”
Her words are so soft only Gun hears them. Something about the way she says them sends a chill across his shoulder blades in the real-world. There’s a bucket of hate and venom in those words.
“A birthday toast!” Maia declares, snatching up a new glass. “To the birthday girl. Happy birthday, Claudine!”
Gun and the others join the toast, glasses clinking. He’s still the only one who doesn’t drink.
Andrea and Gerald are pulled away by a group of people dressed in matching yellow leisure suits. Gun catches the barest hint of a smile on Claudine’s face as she sets her glass down on a nearby tray. Her expression makes him wary; when Claudine smiles, it’s never for anyone’s benefit except her own.
“Maia, let’s make a date to meet at the Ritz Carlton’s pool site soon,” Claudine says. “See you around, Gun.”
That is definitely a smile on Claudine’s face. He’s just about to ask Maia what she thinks of it when his glass melts in his hand. The liquid green Touch spills over him. It turns into a snake, wrapping around his hand.
Maia sighs. “Maybe she does blame you for her accident.”
Gun gives a yelp as the snake turns on him. He tries to shake it off, but it wraps around his hand and slithers up his arm. Too late, Gun realizes what it is: a Constrictor.
Constrictors are a Black Tech meant to dissemble an avatar and fry all connecting hardware. The woman planted it in his champagne glass.
A string of profanity pours out of him. A grou
p of avatars clusters around him as the Constrictor expands, crushing him.
In a matter of seconds, his avatar is demolished, the code ground to glittering flakes by the snake. Gun is ejected harshly into the real-world only to find his modem smoking and sparking.
“Nate!” he bellows.
Gun leaps off the bed, wincing at the pain that lances through his head. He yanks the modem out of the wall and flings it across the room.
Nate rushes in wearing nothing but his pajama pants; he’d been sleeping in Gun’s guest room. “What happened?” he asks, eyes taking in the smashed modem.
Gun’s upper lip curls. “She attacked me with a Constrictor.”
“Damn. That modem is toast.”
“Check all the equipment networked to it,” Gun says. “Make sure they’re disconnected before the Black Tech spreads.” Gun stalks to the closet, rummaging around for one of his backup modems.
“What are you doing?” Nate asks, plugging his tablet into one of the servers.
“I have to meet Sulan.” No way is he going to let Claudine keep him from Sulan. At least the Constrictor got him out of the stupid party.
“Well, it’s finally happened,” Nate says.
Gun doesn’t look up, yanking out a box from the back of his closet. Inside is an old modem and Vex set.
“What’s finally happened?” he asked. “One of my exes took revenge on me? That’s happened before.” Though never to this degree.
“Are you kidding me?” Nate doesn’t even look up from his tablet as he speaks, his fingers flying over the screen. “Your modem and Vex set have both been fried, your servers are under threat, and all you can think about is Sulan. You’re in love with her.”
For some reason, this makes Gun angry. He whirls on Nate, a retort on the tip of his tongue—except that he can’t think of anything to say. There’s no defense for what he’s doing right now. He settles for a glare instead. Nate laughs at him.
“I’ll figure out a defense for a Constrictor, just in case you ever get hit with one again,” Nate says. “Go see your girl.”
12
Victory
When Sulan arrives, Gun is already loaded with Touch and beating the hell out of a punching bag he hung in the middle of the locker room. The fatigue pinching his arms feels good. Every bite of the bag against his knuckles leaches away bits of his tension and anger.
Sulan’s face splits into a smile at the sight of him. He can’t help but smile back.
Is Nate right? he wonders. Am I in love with her?
“You’re early.” She flings open a locker, head disappearing inside. “I was hoping we could practice with the nunchucks tonight. They’re so cool.” She emerges with two pairs of them. “What do you think?”
She’s such a breath of fresh air in the fake, duplicitous world he occupies. He steps away from the punching bag, holding out a Touch pill to her.
“Nunchucks sounds great,” he says.
Sulan tosses back the pill. For the first time, he wonders what it would be like to use Touch in a different way with Sulan. To hold her, and kiss her.
He’s so distracted by this idea he can barely focus on the nunchucks lesson. After Sulan manages to clock him twice in the forehead, she lowers her weapon with a frown.
“What’s up?” she asks.
He wants to tell her everything about the party, his crazy ex—exes—and the Constrictor. But he can’t.
“Long day,” he says instead. At least it’s not a complete lie.
“We don’t have to spar.” She tosses the weapons to the ground, then sprawls on a nearby training mat. “I brought something to show you. Come see.”
He eases onto the mat beside her. She’s so petite. She’d fit perfectly in his arms.
Despite these thoughts, he’s careful not to touch her. They haven’t crossed that line. As much as he wants to, Sulan has never given him any reason to indicate she feels the same way.
“Check this out.” She places a hologram projector on the mat in front of them and turns it on.
A clown is projected into the air. It’s a classic image, with red-orange hair, red nose, pink cheeks, giant overalls, and an oversized smile drawn on with paint. The clown stands in a meadow surrounded by trees.
Sulan’s eagerness is palpable. He throws her an amused glance, wondering what it is about the clown that intrigues her.
Then, as Gun watches, the red nose lights up and begins to blink. A second later, a laser beam shoots out of the nose and hits a tree. The tree explodes in a shower of wood and dirt.
Sulan bursts out laughing. “It’s a killer clown suit avatar,” she says between wheezes of laughter.
Her humor is contagious. The ridiculousness of the clown suit hits him, and he can’t help but guffaw.
“We should get a set for one of our competitions,” Sulan says, her laughter turning to giggles.
“We could blow away the competitors.” Gun grins at his stupid joke.
“Exactly.” Sulan sits up, eyes sparkling. “My friend Billy has been researching some guys who designs avatars. He showed this one to me today. It’s just so weird! I had to show you.”
As she sits next to him, Gun is seized with an impulse to kiss her. The only thing that stops him is the smile on her face. He doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that smile. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if he makes a move and it ruins the friendship they have?
“We definitely have to try the clown suits,” Gun says. “Aren’t we scheduled to fight Super Duper next week?”
“Those two will hate clown suits.” Sulan’s nose wrinkles with delight. “Too bad we can only use Naked avatars. Maybe we’d actually win if we were in killer clown suits.” Some of the light fades from her eyes.
Gun knows how much she wants to win. He elbows her in the arm. “We’ll win. We just have to keep training.” He stands, scooping up his nunchucks. “Come on.”
“You sure?” She rises. “We can just hang out if you need a break.”
Their gazes meet. He loves the dark pools of her eyes.
“No, I’m good,” he says.
She’s the first to break eye contact, but in that brief moment, he thinks he sees something, a glimmer that tells him she might feel the same way about him.
He’s never doubted his ability to charm a girl, but Sulan isn’t like anyone else he knows. And he doesn’t want to charm her the way he charmed Andrea and Claudine and countless other women. Those relationships were all fake. He doesn’t want to be fake with Sulan. This is new territory for him.
As she picks up her weapon, he makes up his mind to ask her out. Not today, but soon.
Sulan doesn’t get fluttery over boys. Virtual flowers and walks along a virtual beach won’t impress her. What would she like? Certainly not the conventional site Nate built for them with a carriage ride and a Victorian hedge maze.
The answer comes to him immediately. Sulan might not talk much about her life outside the Cube, but she’s said enough to let him know she feels trapped.
Gun will build her a Vex site that will help her fly.
***
“The intel you got from Claudine’s party was interesting,” Nate tells him the next morning. He’s still wearing nothing but his pajama pants. “The defenses she had were different from anything I’ve seen before.”
“How so?” Gun asks.
“It was a complex weave of several different firewalls and intrusion detection systems. When you break it down, it looks like each one was designed by a different person. Then someone else came along and wove them all together.” Nate leans back on the sofa, chewing on a piece toast.
“Can you design the Lice to get through them undetected?”
“Not by myself. I’ll need the Dread Twins. Maybe the help of some of our other programmers.”
Gun nods. “Use whatever resources you need.”
Six days later, Gun is armed with new Lice. Nate is smug as he loads them onto Gun’s avatar.
&nbs
p; “They’re breathtaking,” he tells Gun. “The architecture is too beautiful to hide. Too bad we can’t share them with the world.”
“They are going out into the world,” Gun replies. “Why any luck, they’ll permeate VHS.”
“Does it bother you?” Nate asks.
“Does what bother me?”
“Using Sulan to spy on Global? When you’re head over heels for her?”
Gun stiffens. “I’m doing this to protect her. Global is working with the League. I’m going to prove it.”
“Just checking, bro.”
Gun bites back a retort. When he does have evidence against Global, Sulan will need protection. She’ll forgive him for lying to her when he exposes the Winns. She’ll understand.
Won’t she?
***
“We did it!” Sulan beams. She throws her arms around Gun, laughing with unbridled delight. “We finally won!”
It’s one of the first times she’s touched him this way. Gun doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. He picks her up and swings her around, wishing he’d taken Touch before their competition so he could feel her in his arms. He wants to hold her forever.
As soon as their avatars make contact, the reprogrammed Lice scuttle off him and onto her. They’re too small to see, but the words Tech Deployed flash across his vision.
He smothers the guilt washing through him. Sulan will understand why he did this.
“We did it,” he agrees. Leaning back just enough to look into her eyes, he adds, “You did it. You’ve trained like a machine for weeks.”
She throws back her head, laughing again. “I just can’t believe we won! Did you see their faces when we beat them?”
Gun chuckles at the memory. The Blazers team hadn’t seen that coming. They underestimated Sulan, just like everyone else in this place.
She breaks away, her steps animated as she paces up and down their locker room.
“Did you see my knife?” she asks. “Did you see it when it hit him?”
“Right between the shoulder blades.” Gun grins. “It was a perfect shot.”
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