Lai's final warning echoed in her ears, but Aya wasn't afraid. Once the story went to feed, none of this was her problem. Since the Diego War, the world had very strict rules about stockpiled weapons.
The Global Concord Committee would swoop down within hours, pulling the mountain apart.
Someone was in big trouble.
But not Aya Fuse. Her biggest problem now was what to wear to Nana Love's Thousand Faces Party. Because with an ending like this, the City Killer story was going to make her that famous.
Maybe for the rest of her life.
Kicking It
"You are not wearing that!"
"Why not?" Aya twisted the ringlets in her hair, which was puffed up like a manga-head's and dyed bright purple. Her dress was spattered with sparkle lights, and her shoes were variable-friction platformsshe'd skidded into Hire's apartment like the floor was made of ice. She took two handfuls of the dress and spread it out, looking down at herself. "This outfit is totally kick!"
"Maybe if you're fifteen," Hire muttered.
Aya rolled her eyes. "Well, I happen to be fifteen. And you can't tell me how to dress for this party. My story's the whole reason we're going!"
"Yeah, but I'm the one with the invitation, remember? You're just tagging along."
"For now," Aya said softly.
Tonight wasn't the partythe Thousand Faces was still a week awaythis was just a monthly tech-head bash. But Ren had said Aya should be there tonight when her City Killer story kicked. Full of physics-heads and mag-lev spotters, the bash would spawn the interviews, feed wars, and rampant rekicking that every big story demanded.
"Whatever, Aya-chan. Just please don't visit Mom and Dad till those flash tattoos fade."
Aya stuck her tongue out at him, which made the spirals on her cheeks spin. The temporary tattoos still tickled when they moved, and she let out a giggle.
"Ren Machino," Hiro told the room, then asked, "Where are you?"
"Almost there," he pinged back.
"Just wait downstairs. We're almost out the door."
"What's the rush?" Ren sounded amused. "City Killer doesn't kick for an hour."
"I know. I've been staring at the clock all night."
"Clock-staring makes him grumpy," Aya cut in, spinning in place on her platforms. "It's my story, you know, and you don't see me getting all shaky."
Hiro sighed. "She refused to hide the sled sequence in the background layer, Ren. It's going to give my parents brain damage."
"And Hiro keeps forgetting whose story this is!" Aya said. "But don't worry. I keep reminding him."
Ren's laughter boomed. "I'll remind him too, Aya-chan!"
Hiro snorted, cut the connection with a snap of his fingers, and turned the giant wallscreen into a mirror. He'd borrowed one of their fathers old formal jackets: black spider silk and real bamboo buttons.
He didn't look half bad.
Aya skated across the room on her platforms, watching her dress trail sparkles in the wallscreen, Moggle tracking the motion. She'd paid for the dress with Hire's reputation, but paying him back was going to be a cinch.
She didn't get why Hire was so nervous. Tonight felt long overdue to Aya, more real than all the merit-grubbing and obscurity of her life so far. All that had merely been preparation for this for fame.
Best of all, Frizz was coming to the bash. He still felt bad about the Slime Queen story, but tonight would banish all that awkwardness. Though Frizz didn't know it yet, Aya and he were finally going to be face-equal, not to mention headed to the Thousand Faces Party together next week.
"Stop skating around like that!" Hiro said. "You look like an ugly about to kick some pictures of your cat!"
She skidded to a halt. "Oh, no!"
"What? Did you forget an edit?"
"No, it's just that maybe this story would be better with a cat!"
Hiro finally cracked a smile, then turned back to the mirror. "Actually, it's pretty much perfect, Aya-chan. Even if it does give Mom and Dad a heart attack."
"Perfect?" she asked, hoping Moggle was getting this. "Really?"
"Really." He shrugged. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't be rekicking it. Want to see something?"
He flicked his finger, and the screen changeda schematic of an apartment. It was huge, with walk-in closets and smart-matter windows, and a hole in the wall that could grind out almost anything.
"What's that?" she asked.
"An apartment in Shuffle Mansion. It just opened up."
Aya blinked. Shuffle Mansion was where the absolute biggest faces in the city lived. It had the best views and the strongest privacy, and even its walls were profoundly status-conscious. Every few weeks they moved a little, giving the mansion its name, every square centimeter reflecting the latest updates in the face ranks.
"Shuffle Mansion? You think I'll be that famous?"
He shrugged again. "You may have stopped a war, Aya-chan. That means merits on top of fame.
Ready to go?"
Aya felt heat on her cheeks, not just from the new flash tattoos. She glanced into the wallscreen one last time and gestured, changing the view back to her profile. Tonight, somehow, she almost looked like a pretty. Even her nose seemed perfect.
She nodded. "Yeah, I'm totally ready."
It was time.
Ten hovercams were drifting overhead, and dozens more waited over the mansion's steps. Their lenses flickered with torchlight as they swiveled to focus on Hiro, Aya, and Ren. Everyone knew that Hiro Fuse's new story was going up tonight, and rumors were flying that it was even bigger than immortality. What nobody knew was that the story was blank except for a rekick to his little sister's feed.
Piggybacking on Hiro's face rank annoyed Aya, but she had to admit it was the quickest way to spread the news.
As they reached the mansion's steps, she pushed her dress's sparkling into overdrive.
"Don't run down your batteries," Ren whispered, smiling for the cams.
"But Hiro said I needed to make a big entrance!" Her own smile faltered a little as she climbed the stairs. Her right ankle was still sprained from being dragged across rocks and brush by that stupid parachute. "Maybe I shouldn't have worn this," she mumbled.
"You look fantastic," Hiro said. "Just keep the friction on those shoes turned upfalling on your face is the wrong kind of famous-making."
"And remember," Ren added quietly "one hour from now, you'll have the biggest face in the room."
Aya glanced nervously at Hiro, and he took her hand.
She checked her eyescreen: The average face rank of the party was already at two thousand, much higher than the one she'd crashed ten days ago. And that number would only climb as the big faces arrived, the popular tech-kickers who could explain mass drivers in terms that extras could understand.
Inside, the air was so thick with hovercams that Aya wondered how any of them could get a clear shot. Whole swarms moved together, like minnows in an overcrowded fish tank. Moggle joined the dance overhead, looking oversize and clumsy amid the finger-size cams.
The funny thing was, she'd watched a million parties like this on the feeds, and she'd never once noticed all the hovercams. But now their flitting forms were as distracting as mosquitoes in the rainy season.
But she could understand why they were here. The surge-monkeys alone were eye-boggling.
Dozens of new skin textures abounded: fur, scales, strange colors, and translucent membraneseven a stony crust, as if living statues had joined the party. Aya spotted face-types based on animals, historical figures, and she-didn't-know-what, all vying for the attention of the swarming cams.
With Nana Love's party only a week away, everyone was pulling out all the stops, trying to eye-kick their way into the top one thousand.
Somehow, though, none of the surge-monkeys here was as unnerving as the figures she and Miki had glimpsed in the mag-lev tunnel. This party was all about fashion and eye-kicks, but those freaks were something inhuman.
She took a deep breath, b
anishing body mods from her mind. Not everyone here was a surge-monkey. There were also the geniuses: math-heads playing with puzzle cubes and airscreen mazes, science cliques in lab wear, all blended together in a tech-kicker's paradise.
Aya scanned the crowd for Frizz, but extraordinary sights kept arresting her gaze.
"Look at those pixel-skins!" she cried. Across the room a couple stood half naked, blurry images moving across their backs. Somehow they were changing their skin cells' colors fast enough to show a feed channel, like chameleon lizards clinging to a wall screen.
"It's rude to point," Ren said. "And that's old news. Check out those four in the corner."
Aya followed his gaze. "What do you mean? I don't see anyone."
"Exactly. That's the latest generation of pixilated skin almost perfect camouflage."
"Very funny, Ren. You're totally full of " Her voice trailed off. The corner had just moved, a barely perceptible shift, like a wrinkle passing through the wallpaper. The motion left a shape in her visiona human body. She whispered, "Moggle, are you getting that?"
"Big deal," Hiro said. "Octopuses can do the same thing."
"That's where the idea came from," Ren said. "Octopus skin cells have these little bags of pigment inside, which they control with" "Hang on," Aya interrupted. "Why can't we see their clothes?"
Hiro chuckled, and Ren said, "What clothes?"
Aya's eyes widened. "Oh. That's interesting."
"One problem, though," Hiro said thoughtfully. "Isn't invisibility the opposite of fame?"
"Hiro!" Ren hissed. "Nameless One Alert!"
Aya looked up to see Toshi Banana making his way across the room, his famous shark-shaped hovercam slicing through the air overhead. An entourage of wannabe kickers and fame groupies trailed in his wake.
"What's he doing here?" Hiro said. "He's way too famous for this party, and he hates tech-heads!"
"And, um, is he coming toward us?" Aya asked softly.
"No way," Hiro said.
But Toshi's wide-shouldered frame was headed straight at them, shoving his way between a leopard-pelted surge-monkey and a bunch of manga-heads.
The entourage swept to a halt around the three of them, a small armada of hovercams sliding into place overhead. Aya suddenly remembered all the slam interviews Toshi had pulled over the yearshe was an expert at making his opponents look like idiots.
"Hiro Fuse? Is that you?" Toshi's voice sounded just liked it did on his feed: low and gravelly, threatening to shift into outrage at any moment. Aya noticed that he didn't bother to bow.
"Um ," Hiro began.
"Not sure? Well í think it's you, and I'm seldom wrong." Toshi chuckled, and his groupies broke into laughter.
"Loved your immortality story."
"Oh, thank you, Toshi-sensei." Hiro cleared his throat. "I appreciate that."
Aya rolled her eyes. One compliment from the Nameless One, and Hiro was already face-grubbing.
"Cloned hearts! Disgusting!" Toshi glanced back at the leopard girl and rolled his eyes. "Some people love to pervert the natural order, eh?"
"You mean those crumblies?" Hiro shrugged. "I think they were just afraid to die."
"Fear, exactly! That's what the mind-rain has given us."
"You keep slamming the mind-rain," Ren said. "So why not go back to being a bubblehead?"
Toshi turned his huge frame and sized Ren up. "Do I know you?"
Ren bowed a fraction of a degree. "I doubt it."
"Well, contrary to popular belief, not everyone was a bubblehead back in the Prettytime. Some people had to run the city." Toshi turned back to Hiro. "Your face rank seems to have slipped since that story, Hiro-chan. Maybe it's the company you're keeping."
"Hey!" Aya cried, doing a little frictionless spin. "His company is standing right here!"
Toshi looked down at her. "An extra? Dating downward, Hiro-chan?"
"Dating? That's my ," Hiro started, but under the stares of Toshi's entourage, his voice faded.
The Nameless One exhaled a slow breath, his gaze drifting over Hiro's shoulder, as if looking for someone more important. "Well if your effort tonight is interesting, perhaps you can guest on my feed. It might help you break into the big leagues."
"Forget it!" Aya said. "After tonight, we'll both be a zillion times famouser than you!"
The entourage's hovercams swiveled, all suddenly focusing on Aya. Toshi stared down at her like he'd found a cockroach between his chopsticks.
"Is this ugly in your story, Hiro-chan? If so, I don't get it."
As Aya started to reply, a troubling realization crossed her mind. To mind-rain slammers like the Nameless One, the city killer would be more evidence that humanity threatened the planet, just more proof that everyone had to be controlled again.
With his dozen hovercams, Toshi was already gathering material to spin her story his way. He'd already used Hiro's immortality kick to stir up fear of overpopulation. How much more could he do with a city killer!
"Don't worry, Toshichan
," Ren said. "You'll get it soon enough. Everyone will." He turned to Aya. "Let's kick it early. Let's kick it now."
"Really?"
"Good idea, Ren," Hiro said. "A little surprise for everyone."
Aya looked up at the Nameless One. Anything that threw him off balance was fine with her. She bowed. "Excuse us. We have something important to do."
He started to sputter a reply, but the three of them were already walking away. Unlock codes tumbled across Aya's eyescreen, and Hire's fingers were already twitching. She shot a quick ping to Frizz, just to make sure he caught the story the first time around.
Hiro's hands settled, and he turned to her. "Ready, little sister?"
She nodded slowly, and felt her flash tattoos spinning. "Ready."
"Kick in three two one " They mouthed their final codes together, then stared at each other.
The City Killer story was on the feeds.
Ren pushed straight through the crowd, stepping into the middle of the room beside a manga-head with meter-tall sparkling hair. He clapped his hands together twice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, a brief announcement!" He paused for a moment while the chatter settled down. Even the Reputation Bombers were silenced by his audaciousness, but Ren looked unashamed, fixing everyone with his gaze.
He gave the room a low bow.
"Forgive me for interrupting, but Hiro and Aya Fuse's new story is up and running. And it concerns something you may be interested in the end of the world!"
Truth-Slanting
Fifteen minutes later, it was starting to build.
Of course, most of the partygoers had gone back to their conversations after Ren's announcement. A few handhelds flickered, but the mansions big public wallscreen stayed dark. Why interrupt a bash to watch one feed out of a million? Especially once it turned out to be Hiro Fuse's little sister kicking tonight, and not Mr. Big Face himself.
In one corner, Toshi Banana was making a show of ignoring the rest of the party, telling jokes to his entourage and basking in their laughter. But Aya noticed one of his groupies lost in her eyescreen. As the story reached the truth about the city killer, she rose on her tiptoes to whisper in the Nameless One's ear, and a thoughtful look crossed his face.
Out in the city it was building fasterfriends pinging friends, feeds rekicking it, the story spreading like a brushfire in the dry season. Aya watched her feed ratings slowly climb, her face rank crawling upward, already back under a hundred thousand.
"Just caught a ping-blast on the wardens' feed," Ren said. Both his eyescreens were on, his expression lost in scribbles of light. "They're scrambling hovercars."
Aya smiled. Like a good little citizen, she'd put a security flag on the story to make sure the city government watched it right away They'd have wardens out there tonight, securing the site from thrill-seekers and paparazzi, making sure nobody got smashed into mag-lev paste. Of course, this wasn't just about personal safety by tomorr
ow, the Global Concord Committee's suborbitals would no doubt be headed here from every continent.
Staring into his eyescreens, Ren burst out laughing. "This is hilarious! Gamma Matsui is slamming you: She thinks you faked the sled footage! She says you couldn't have stayed up in the air that longso the whole story's a hoax."
Aya's jaw dropped open. "That's so mean! What does she know, anyway?"
"It doesn't matter what she knows, Aya," Ren said. "What matters is that she's the most famous kicker to notice you so far."
Aya growled in frustration, but it was true: Her feed ratings had just bumped again. She brought up Gamma on her eyescreen, struggling to hear over the music and babble of the party.
"I'd kill for your wallscreen right now, Hiro," she said, her eyes suddenly itching for twenty feeds to follow the story's spread. "Why did I let you guys talk me into coming here?"
Ren placed a hand on Aya's shoulder, giving her a glass. "Hush, and drink some champagne. See that extra-looking woman playing with the puzzle cube? She can calculate the sled's terminal velocity off the top of her head, just by watching. When it comes to physics, she'll eat Gamma for breakfast.
That's why we're here."
"But she's not even watching my feed!" Aya cried. "Should I go explain to her?"
"Don't you dare," Hiro said. "No one else is talking about hoaxes yet. Don't poke a dead fire."
Aya groaned, putting the champagne aside. Sometimes, the hardest thing was doing nothing.
"Well, there's some good news," Hiro said. "The Nameless One's leaving."
Aya looked up in time to catch Toshi Banana and his entourage heading out the door. They looked like they were in a hurry.
Ren chuckled. "Probably wants to get back to his wall-screens and start slamming you before this gets too big."
"Shouldn't we be slamming him first?" Aya asked.
Ren blinked away his eyescreen squiggles and turned to face her. "We don't need to. This is a city killer, remember? It's way too big for that bubblehead to make his own."
Five minutes later the story went massive, ballooning out across the feeds, reaching past the city interface into the global network. It seemed to happen all at once, in one of those explosions of kick that was inexplicableor at least way too fast for Aya's little eyescreen to make sense of.
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