The Body Market

by Donna Freitas

  “But a good virus,” I said, getting excited again.

  “Exactly.” Zeera was still tapping her chin. “But we’d have to be careful—real brains are fragile. They damage easily. Even to create an App like this would require testing and playing around with someone’s mind—ideally the mind of the boy we saw wake up. We’d have to dig around and find out if there’s something in his code that we could harvest and copy.” Zeera sighed long and heavy. “But unless you know where he went, then we’re out of luck. Even if we sent out a search party, I doubt we’d find him in time. The boy could be anywhere.”

  “The Real World is a big place,” I agreed.

  But what if there was someone else? I thought. Someone right here, whose brain might hold the key?

  “And,” Zeera went on, “I don’t know if I could figure this out on my own. What we’re talking about is complicated. I wish I wasn’t the only one around here who knew how to code.”

  I nodded. I really needed to find Trader. He kept trying to convince me that things weren’t as they seemed, that he hadn’t betrayed me. What if he hadn’t? Maybe he could help. Besides, I had so many questions for him. “I might know someone. If only I could figure out where he is . . . ,” I added, my mind racing.

  “Do you really mean that?” Zeera’s voice was suddenly full of hope.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Zeera stared at me hard. “I want my Sylvia back, Skylar,” she said. “So if you think this person could help, then he’s worth the trouble of finding.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, trying to imagine where in the Real World Trader might be—if he was even still in the Real World at all. “It just might take a couple of days.” Or weeks or years, I added to myself privately. For all I knew, I’d never see Trader again. But I wanted to remain hopeful and I wanted Zeera to stay that way too.

  Zeera’s eyes went to the tablet in my hands. She took it from me, lost in thought, and began tapping the screen. A keyboard appeared. As Zeera typed, words formed inside of a bubble. Then she hit a button that said Send.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Zeera swiped her finger across the screen and the bubble disappeared before I could read what was inside of it. “Messaging Rain,” she said, as though this was no big deal.

  I leaned closer, staring at this seemingly magic object. “So the tablets do work!”

  With another swipe of her finger, Zeera brought up a stream of bubbles that contained an entire conversation between her and Rain. “Enough to send messages over the Wi-Fi,” she explained. Then she held out the tablet so I could get a better look. “See?”

  The messages mostly involved updates about the monitors, and an occasional comment about how Lacy was looking for Rain. But I nearly couldn’t believe this technology was available and we weren’t taking advantage of it. “Zeera, we need to call everyone to a meeting,” I said. “As soon as possible.”

  She eyed me. “To talk about the App? Don’t you think that’s a bit premature?”

  “Not the App.” I reached over and took the little tablet back from Zeera. “We store these devices in a place called the weapons room. Maybe it’s time we start figuring out how they can live up to their names.” The tablet glowed bright, like fireflies were trapped inside of it. “There are so many of us out here and plenty of tablets to go around. If these really are up and running, we need to teach people how to use them. They could change how we do everything. Especially if we find a way to code that App.”

  “Listen, you know me,” Zeera said. “I’m all about taking advantage of technology. But why don’t you talk to Rain about it? I’m sure he’ll listen to you.”

  The screen dimmed on the tablet, as though the fireflies were dying. I took a finger and swiped it across the surface as I’d seen Zeera do, and it immediately brightened again. “It’s not like Rain told me about the one he’s using to communicate with you.”

  Zeera’s eyebrows arched. “Skylar, you just got back! And the first thing Rain did was bring you to see what we’ve got on the monitors.”

  “True,” I admitted.

  “Maybe he didn’t want to tell you everything right away. Maybe he’s protecting himself.”

  I laughed. “From what?”

  “From getting hurt,” she said.

  “Getting hurt how?”

  Zeera glanced at the shards of blue and green that glinted inside the jar on the bedside table. “Like you don’t know. Like you didn’t show up with Mr. Mysterious, Dark, and Brooding today.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Rain has Lacy.”

  “We’ll see how long that lasts,” she said.

  I yawned, suddenly exhausted. “I guess we will.”

  Zeera walked over to the door of my room and opened it. “That’s my cue to let you rest.”

  “Don’t say anything to Rain about our conversation,” I said before she could leave. “Or about the App. Or the meeting. Let me handle it.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “But this is exciting, Skylar. You’ve given me a lot to think about tonight. Sleep well,” she added, then disappeared into the hallway.

  After Zeera was gone, I changed into my nightclothes and got into bed, wondering if anything we’d discussed was really possible, and if there might just be something about my brain that could hold the answers.

  I shivered, remembering what Zeera said about digging around in that boy’s brain, looking for the right code to harvest and copy. The notion of someone literally picking through my brain was chilling. But then, if doing so could help put an end to the Body Market, it would be worth being the guinea pig.

  Wouldn’t it?

  As I tucked myself deeper under the covers of the bed, I thought about my promise to Kit, and touched the scarf around my neck. I’d yet to take it off. It was like it was tethering me.

  Yes, I knew right then. It would absolutely be worth it. I would let someone dig around in my brain if doing so could help save Inara and Sylvia and all of those other bodies. I would volunteer to be the guinea pig if that’s what was required to keep my word to Kit.

  18

  Kit

  fool for love

  I MADE SKYLAR a promise.

  I owed her that promise. I owed her a favor. I’d offered one up of my own volition, just as she’d offered to care for my shoulder, without asking anything in return.

  Well, not at first.

  The wood burning in the stove crackled, then popped loudly. I opened the iron door in its side and poked at it until the wood snapped again. I looked around the cottage, looked at it from every angle, waiting, as though someone might emerge from one of the walls to join me for breakfast. I’d lived alone for a long time and I was used to it, I’d grown used to it out of necessity. I was fine with this—had been fine with it. I typically didn’t miss the company of other people. Then I brought a girl here for a few days and suddenly the house felt emptier than ever. I felt emptier. Lonely.

  Lonely without Skylar.

  How had I not noticed this before? How had I lived without her company? I needed to remember so I could do it again. My survival depended on it. Or, at least, my sanity did. And maybe my sister’s survival. Maybe that too.

  Maggie.

  Before Skylar, it had only been Maggie.

  My sister and me, against the world.

  And then, eventually, it was just me. And that was okay.

  Until now, apparently, when it wasn’t.

  “You’ll join me soon,” my sister said. She blinked at me with those wide blue, familiar eyes. Eyes that were the negative of my own. “Right?”

  “Of course,” I told Maggie.

  She and I were having our good-bye. She was about to plug in, and I was about to lose her forever. She knew I was lying about joining her in the App World, but neither one of us was acknowledging it. The tears streaming down her pale freckled cheeks revealed more than her words ever could. Maggie never cried—never. The last time either one of us shed a tear was when I told her o
ur parents left and I’d lied and said that they wouldn’t be gone forever.

  Here we were, lying to each other again.

  And in such a grand setting.

  We were standing in the middle of New Port Station. It was a beautiful place. Tall arched ceiling that soared toward the sky. Stained-glass windows that called the dappled light down upon us. The floors were marble, built during a gilded era long ago when trains took people from city to city. Now it was used as a stage of sorts, a set for Real World loved ones to have their good-byes, engaging in the ritual of coming to the station like people used to in the olden days, kissing a sister or a parent or a girlfriend or a boyfriend and watching them walk away, maybe to leave for a few days or maybe to leave for good. That was what we marked here, what we played out like a movie or an opera.

  Maggie and I were the only ones in the entire place.

  There was a time when New Port Station had been brimming with people like us, sending one another off to be plugged in, everyone drunk on the anticipation of an entirely new life, an entirely new future, full of laughter and excitement. There was sadness, too, loss and resentment, and even the anger and dismay felt by the family and loved ones left behind. But after the first major exodus to the App World, the numbers of those plugging in dwindled and diminished until it was only a trickle, and eventually, a slow drip.

  And now, almost nothing.

  The minute hand on the great circular clock high above the gate shifted and it struck eleven a.m. We’d been here since ten fifteen, standing, looking around, waiting for whatever was supposed to happen next, just the two of us. My sister and I listened to the chimes, one after the other, until the last one rang out and faded away.

  Maggie took a deep breath. “It’s time, right?”

  My stomach hurt with the thought of watching her walk through that door and never seeing her again. “It should be,” I said, trying to muster up a smile.

  Our voices echoed. They bounced against the tall, carved walls. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.

  Maggie and I turned to it at the same time.

  A Keeper was walking toward us. She had long brown hair that was pulled up rather severely in a knot. Her eyes were big and blue like Maggie’s. But unlike Maggie’s, they were cold. Everything about her demeanor was icy as winter. She stopped a short distance away from us. “Are you ready?” she asked. She was speaking to Maggie, but she seemed to be questioning both of us.

  I glanced at my sister. Rivers flowed down her cheeks. “Just give us a minute,” I called back.

  “Fine,” the woman said. She sounded bored. Annoyed, even.

  I wrapped my arms around Maggie. She was so thin, so fragile. “Don’t cry,” I whispered in her ear.

  “I love you, Kit,” she said between sobs.

  “I love you, too,” I told her.

  It had been a long, long while since the last time we’d shared these terms of endearment. Our love for each other didn’t need words. But today was different. Today was the last time we could say such things to each other, so say them we did.

  The Keeper sighed loudly behind us, anxious to fulfill her role and take Maggie away. Soon the preparations would begin, and Maggie’s life in the Real World would fade to nothing. When she woke, she would see her virtual self for the very first time.

  Maggie might be plugging in alone, but she was not to be a Single in the App World. I made sure she would be well cared for after her arrival. Pretending to save for two people’s passage to the App World and then blowing every ounce of capital on only one can buy quite a lot of virtual happiness. At least for a while. Eventually it would be up to Maggie to handle her own life, but I had no doubt my sister was capable of this.

  Just as she was capable of saying good-bye to me forever.

  The minute hand on the clock kept clicking forward.

  It clicked once more. Then again.

  I lost count how many times I’d heard that sound since it struck eleven.

  There were footsteps behind us. Then two hands pulling us apart.

  The Keeper glared at my sister. “If you’re this inconsolable about parting with him, then you should’ve thought twice about plugging in.”

  Maggie’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Her skin shined wet and her eyes were wide and horrified. No, they were full of guilt. She glanced at me.

  I nodded back.

  “I’m ready,” Maggie said.

  The Keeper pointed to the door, beyond which Maggie would be taken to the plugs. “All right. Off you go.”

  Maggie’s brow furrowed deep. “But aren’t you supposed to come with me?”

  The Keeper rolled her eyes. “I’ll be there in a moment. I have a few things to discuss with your brother about the arrangements.”

  Maggie stood there awhile longer, eyes glassy. Before she turned away, she opened the bag she carried over her shoulder and pulled out her most prized possessions. “So you don’t forget about me,” she said, holding them out to me.

  “How could I?” I replied, taking them from her, my eyes burning now.

  Those were the last words we’d ever exchanged.

  Then she turned and walked away. I watched her go until the moment she disappeared beyond the door.

  There.

  It was done.

  Just like that. I took a deep breath.

  I waited for the Keeper to follow after her.

  She didn’t.

  Instead, she was studying me. “Painful, isn’t it,” she said. “To watch a sibling abandon you like that.”

  “Yes,” was all I said, all I was capable of croaking from my throat at the time.

  “You must feel a little angry.” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow. “Or even a lot? She must know what you’ve done for her. And still she leaves you because the pull of the virtual is oh so powerful.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not angry.”

  Her eyebrow arched even higher. “Not even a little?”

  “No,” I said, though this was a lie. But it hurt too much to admit this out loud. “The love between twins like us runs deep. I’d do anything for my sister.”

  The Keeper studied me a little longer, a little harder, I think. “Hmmm,” she said. Then, “Well, see you soon,” she added, and before I could reply, she’d disappeared through the door where Maggie had gone as well.

  If I could go back to that day, that moment, I would have told the Keeper how angry I was, how something broke that day in me that I could never repair.

  But I couldn’t go back.

  What was done was done.

  Then, I met Skylar.

  And the gaping wound inside me started to heal.

  19

  Skylar

  plans

  FIRST THING IN the morning, I went to see the Keeper. Her door was opening just as I was raising my hand to knock.

  “Skylar. I somehow sensed you were there.” A smile crinkled her eyes, but she looked exhausted, tired lines rippling across her forehead. Like she’d aged years in only a week. Maybe she’d been like this for months and I was too in my fog to notice, as I’d failed to notice so many other things. “Come in. I was just going to make some tea.”

  I followed her inside. “You’re always making tea.”

  She laughed as she poured water from the kettle into a pot to let the leaves steep. Then she went to the couch and patted the space next to her. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she said. “It’s good to see you and I’m happy you came to visit. I’m leaving for New Port City soon. I’ve already been away from home too long with this storm.”

  “A lot has happened since I left,” I said.

  “So I hear.” Her brows arched. “But you came back to us.”

  “I don’t know for how long.”

  The Keeper pursed her lips. She got up and retrieved the pot of tea and two cups, then poured some into each one. The steam rose and curled into the air. She picked hers up and cradled it in her palms. “I’m listening.”

&nbs
p; “The storm gave me time to think about what I want,” I began. “And I want things to be different. I need them to be different.” I closed my eyes, thought back to those terrible moments I couldn’t get out of my head, the death of a friend, stabbing Jude. The image of the knife sinking into her face haunted me. “There’s another way to fight the New Capitalists. I have an idea and I want your advice.”

  The Keeper watched me over the rim of her cup.

  My tea sat untouched. “We could try and deal with the Body Market with brute force, and lose people in the process. Or”—I took a deep breath and let it out—“we could use technology. The entire city was once wired for everything, everyone to connect virtually. The New Capitalists are using it to their benefit, and I think that’s exactly where and how we attack. We have enough devices in the weapons room for everybody. If we use them, we’ll be able to be in touch with one another no matter where we are. If I’d had one during the blizzard, I could have let everyone here know that I was all right.”

  The Keeper set her tea down and it rattled in the saucer. When she looked at me this time, her expression was clouded. “Don’t underestimate technology, Skylar. It can be just as dangerous as a knife or a gun. Even more so.”

  I stared at her, unflinching. “I’m done using knives.”

  The Keeper bobbed her head. “I’m sorry about what happened with your sister.” She was the only person who didn’t shy away from talking about Jude—and the fact that I disfigured her. “But think long and hard about what technology can do—not just to Jude and her plans, but to everyone else. There’s a reason the worlds split in two. Real bodies aren’t wired for that kind of abuse.”

  “I didn’t come here so you could talk me out of it,” I said. “I came so you could tell me about the dangers we should avoid.”

  The Keeper frowned. “The technology you’re talking about, devices that connect you to the virtual even as you remain in the real body—part of their power comes from the way they entice you,” she said. She breathed deep and closed her eyes. “I still remember them from when I was young. They could be so much fun.”