by Danika Stone
This was the man who’d paid Marq to create the banking program.
Following Luca into the elevator, Marq’s stomach tightened. It was too late to back out now, the stakes too high. Luca stood beside him, chatting happily about football and the nightclubs downtown where he went with friends; what he’d lost in the last few games and what he expected to make next week.
“You come down some night,” Luca said with a grin. “I’ll buy you a drink, eh?”
“Yeah, yeah, that sounds great,” Marq muttered, tugging anxiously at his collar.
The elevator slowed just as Marq’s ears popped. It shuddered to a stop and the doors opened.
“When you step out, put your hands on your head,” Luca said cheerfully. “Just a precaution, of course. You know how it is.”
He put a hand on Marq’s shoulder, pushing him forward into what looked like the foyer of an expensive apartment. Marq’s toe hit the edge of the elevator and he stumbled just as two armed men crossed the floor to his side. In seconds he’d been frisked, his pockets emptied of a pack of tic-tacs, a hard drive, and his wallet.
“He’s clean,” a nameless man said.
Luca knocked on an interior door, waiting for an answer. Marq stood, his hands still on his head, until one of the men tapped his elbow.
“You can put your hands down now,” he said.
Marq turned, finding a man watching him with inquisitive dark eyes.
“Th-thanks, Mr…” he stammered.
The man scowled.
“Patel.”
“You can head inside,” Luca called. “King’s waiting.”
Marq came forward on wobbling legs. Luca grinned at him, and for a second, Marq flashed to the dog who’d lived in the brownstone next to his when he’d been a kid. The dog was always wagging its tail when it bit you. He forced himself to keep moving, wincing as the door clicked closed behind him.
At the desk sat a heavy-set man, his hands steepled before him. He looked to be in his late forties or fifties, with greying hair and sallow, olive skin. A long silver scar ran from the edge of his mouth, across his jaw and into his hairline. The scar tugged one side of his face into a perpetual smirk, the expression out of place on his face. Marq fought down the urge to run as he met King’s gaze.
His eyes were a solid black, mean and unwavering.
“Mr. Lopez,” King said darkly. “Seems I’ve got another job for you…”
: : : : : : : : : :
Jude was playing an online war game when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, catching sight of the name:
Lopez, M.
Pausing the game, he unlocked his phone and put it to his ear.
“Hey Mark,” he said. “Where the hell you been? I’ve been getting the crap kicked out of me all night!”
Marq gave a nervous laugh.
“I um, I’ve just been busy with some business stuff. Had a meeting tonight.”
“Business?” Jude said in confusion. ‘Business’ and ‘Marq’ went together as well as fast food and Olympic athletes.
“Yeah, business,” Marq repeated. “Just got paid for the program we did. Client’s happy.”
“Cool!” Jude said. He’d been hoping to have a little spare cash before Friday.
“I have another job,” Marq said. “That is, if you want it.”
“Sure,” Jude answered. “Doing what?”
“Same kind of thing,” Marq said. “A bit of programming, a virus this time.”
“A virus?” Jude groaned. He hated shit like that. Reminded him too much of high school kids and anarchists. Elliot had badgered him twice more since the gym. It was hard to ignore the consequences when the person you lived with was always reminding you of them.
“Yeah, nothing too hard,” Marq said. “Just a Trojan to work alongside the skimming program we created. A bit of back door code to let someone get in.” He paused. “I uh, I really need your help on this one. It’s a little out of my league.”
Jude’s eyebrows pulled together in concern. Marq sounded weird tonight, like he was upset about something but didn’t want to say what. Jude turned back to the screen. His player was still paused, but he could see the other teams racking up points on the board. He scowled; he didn’t have time for a heart to heart right now.
“Yeah, Marq,” Jude answered distractedly, “I’ll help you with it. Same deal as last time?”
“Even better! It’ll make this last payout look small.”
“Can’t complain about that,” Jude laughed.
“And thanks,” Marq added. “Jude, I owe you one for this.”
Jude clicked restart, cradling his phone between his chin and shoulder as his player launched back into action.
“You owe me more than that,” he said, firing into a group of attacking soldiers. “You still haven’t paid me for the last program!”
“I’ll get you the money tomorrow at work,” Marq said, “And we can talk about the virus then. Seriously man, this is big. Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” Jude said, his mind already back on the game.
: : : : : : : : : :
Indigo walked the streets for hours after the fight with Shireese, staying out until the cold forced her back toward the apartment. There was a sharp bite to the air tonight, bits of ice crystals filtering down from the sky, frosting the windows of parked cars on the street. Indigo walked in a seemingly random pattern, her footsteps attuned to the dangers of the city. She avoided the dark openings to alleys, stepping around the groups of people who occasionally appeared on doorsteps, watching her with interest. She didn’t want trouble tonight. Didn’t want anything, actually, except to go home and sleep.
If she’d had money in her purse, she would have gone to a bar and drunk herself sick. Maybe gone home with someone afterward, willing to trade a warm body for a warm bed. She’d done that a time or two. But Indigo’s pockets were empty, and the thought of finding someone dumb enough to grift was too exhausting to consider. She’d been furious when she’d stormed off, but with her irritation fading, Shireese’s words made sense.
She did look for fuck ups.
Shoulders slumping, Indigo began angling toward home. The accusation hurt, because there was truth to it. Jude Alden the nerd – attractive though he might be – had been too mild for her tastes. She only started to care when he stopped being nice. When he disappeared for two weeks without a word, and didn’t come around see her. When he snooped around for her phone number, and assumed she’d be okay with that. (Indigo frowned. Shireese swore she hadn’t given that to him.) And then he’d kissed her without permission, and been just a bit too rough.
Just like that, she was hooked.
Indigo let out a weary sigh, burrowing her nose low in the upturned collar of her jacket. Up ahead, the dark rectangle of the subway station stairs appeared, and Indigo skirted away from it, crossing to the other side of the street. It was warm down there, and she was almost guaranteed to run into the kind of attention she didn’t want. For a moment, Jude’s face appeared in her mind, and she pushed it away. Indigo wanted ‘nice’ or at least that’s what she thought she wanted, until something else cropped up. She’d spent too many years on the wrong side of happy, and no matter what she said when she felt good, get her angry and she was right back on the street where she’d started.
Reaching the apartment, she jogged up the front steps, keys in hand, relieved that no one was lingering outside this time of night. In minutes she’d climbed the four sets of stairs, and stood outside the apartment door, panting. She closed her eyes, remembering a long ago afternoon when she’d shown up for work at The Vault, black eye covered with too much concealer.
Shireese had been working the day shift, cleaning and polishing, but she’d come up to Indigo in the staffroom.
“It won’t get better until you get out,” Shireese had said. “I know that from experience.”
“Get out, where?” Indigo had snarled, lighting a cigarette off the dying embers of the last.
“Got no place to go.”
“You can crash on my couch for a week,” Shireese had answered. “A week… that’s it.”
Opening her eyes, Indigo slid the key in the lock, opening the door as quietly as the aging building would allow. A light was on in the kitchen. Seeing it, Indigo wilted. She relocked the door, dropping her purse on the floor and heading inside. Shireese sat at the table, the flyers neatly stacked in the box, the posters organized by group, ready to spread across the city. She lifted her eyes, watching Indigo as she came to stand next to the counter where they’d argued hours earlier.
“Tanis is really happy about the posters,” Shireese said quietly.
“Thanks.”
Several long seconds passed, the two friends watching each other warily.
“You okay?” Shireese asked. “You were gone a while.”
“Went for a walk.”
Shireese nodded.
Indigo glanced at the empty dish rack, and then at the table, and finally to Shireese, waiting. She didn’t know why her friend put up with her, but she did. And then it struck her that maybe Shireese liked fucked up people too.
“I’ve um, I’ve got class in the morning,” Indigo muttered, heading across the room, not holding Shireese’ eye. “I should get some sleep.”
“Night then,” Shireese replied.
Indigo didn’t answer.
Chapter 6: Things I Haven’t Told You
Jude stared at the thick wad of bills tucked into the envelope, eyes widening.
“This is AWESOME!”
The chair rocked back as Marq put his hands over his head, stretching.
“Don’t say I never got you nothing,” he quipped.
Heart pounding, Jude counted though the cash. The payout was twice what he’d been expecting; Marq’s car abruptly made sense. The money in his hand was nearly two month’s pay in the tech dungeon, all at once, all his to spend as he pleased. No taxes or benefits payments to deal with at all.
“I started putting together the rough plan for programming the Trojan,” Marq said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to create. Skyped with Cyber!Stalk and DemonDark about the possible—”
“Thought this was a two-man deal,” Jude interrupted.
“It is, it is. I just gotta do a little footwork, to make sure it gets done, and done right. These guys who hired me,” His smile wavered. “They um, they don’t do screw ups, Jude.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jude said, tucking the money into his pocket. “Give you n’ me a couple days and we’ll have it working.”
“That’d be good,” Marq said, “’cause if we can get the Trojan done fast, Luca says he’s got another job. Payout’s twice as big… could lead to other stuff too.”
“You serious?” Jude gasped. With that kind of cash he could quit this place. Start up his own company. Make his own way. “A Trojan’s nothing, Marq!” he said excitedly. “We could have it done by Friday if we both called in sick.”
“Yeah, and Lissa would never suspect,” Marq coughed.
Jude shrugged.
“I’ll use a vacation day then. I’ve got a bunch.”
Marq watched him, eyes narrowed, as if measuring against some scale Jude hadn’t considered.
“If you’re serious about this… If you want to do the other job, I can give ‘em a call today.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d want to, man. Thought maybe this’d be it for you.”
“Screw you!” Jude laughed, punching Marq in the arm. “You knew I’d want in! Just wanted to keep it to yourself.”
Marq gave a weak smile. “I’ll tell Luca you want in. If we take off Thursday and get the Trojan done, we can start a new project this weekend. Someone will give you a call about it. Not sure when.”
“Call me?” Jude repeated.
“Yeah, you know, to get you in the loop.”
“Why not just talk about it at the tech office, like we do now?”
“With the bigger stuff, they’ll want to meet you face to face,” Marq replied. He was no longer holding Jude’s eyes.
“But why?”
“Luca’s boss just likes to talk to people in person,” he said carefully. “It’s how he does things.”
Marq was suddenly engrossed in everything else around him, pushing the memos around the desk, brushing off the keys of his laptop, flicking lint off his pants. Jude opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but then closed it again. A job like this would change things for him. And he was smart. He’d been burned once already.
Marq turned, as if hearing his thoughts.
“Seriously, man, are you good with this? ‘Cause you don’t have to get involved. I never even told ‘em who helped me.”
“Yeah, I want in,” Jude said with a grin. “It’s a great deal. Besides, we’re a good team, right?”
Marq nodded.
“Yeah, we are.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Jude sat across from Indigo, staring at her mouth as she sipped her wine. When he’d made the reservations here, he’d been hoping to impress her, but he’d been completely unprepared for the woman he’d picked up at her apartment today. She fit this place. Compared to her, Jude, in his khakis, white shirt and sloppy tie, was the one who seemed out of place.
He’d never seen or imagined her looking like this. Indigo was transformed into some night-time creature, unreal and unattainable. Her eyelids were sooty black shadows, lips lacquered like a china doll. She wore a narrow black sheath that sparkled in the light, her purse a tiny clutch that matched blood-red fingernails. Even her hair had taken on an otherworldly beauty. Always straight, it was now smoothed to a sheen, candlelight dancing along the strands like glass.
She looked, he decided, like someone out of a movie.
Dinner had been filled with small talk, as Jude tried to get used to this new facet of Indigo Sykes. She was quieter here, more aloof as she spoke to the waiter, leaving Jude feeling like he was playing a part and she was the real thing. When she ordered, she chatted to the waiter about the selection of wines, finally choosing one based on the notes he’d described.
“I didn’t know you knew so much about wine,” Jude laughed.
Her face became a mask, the cool smile hiding whatever was behind it.
“Used to go to a lot of parties,” she said archly. “Had to learn to talk the talk.”
“What kind of parties?”
“Just parties,” she replied, then excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, ending the conversation.
While they ate, they talked about the university and New Media, and what she hoped to do once she graduated. When Indigo asked about Jude’s plans beyond working in tech support, he laughed it off with a comment about “being an entrepreneur”. With the Trojan project nearing completion, that was about as close as Jude wanted to get to the truth.
Once the dessert plates were whisked away and the bill received, the two of them were left with drinks and nothing else. Jude stuck to coffee, but Indigo had another glass of wine. She grew quiet, her eyes on the white tablecloth, expression tight.
“What’re you thinking about?” Jude asked.
Her gaze flicked up, and she hid her expression under a false smile. The veneer was unnerving. It reminded him of an old movie he’d once seen, where the character’s actions were a little too exaggerated, swinging in extremes from scene to scene.
“Oh, just the film project,” she said. “That one that was giving me trouble exporting.”
“You still having troubles with the cache files?”
“No,” she said. “Exporting the videos is coming along fine.”
She didn’t explain.
“So what’s the problem then?”
Indigo turned to stare angrily out at the restaurant. Suddenly she wasn’t the actress anymore – beautiful and inaccessible – but the turbulent woman he’d met in the club last spring. The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter what.
“Indigo?”
She shook her head
and Jude slid his chair closer, until he was at her side, rather than sitting across from her.
“What did I say wrong?”
He reached out, touching her arm but she jerked like she’d been burned. She was breathing fast, her eyes glittering.
“What’s going on?” Jude asked.
“It’s an autobiography,” she answered sharply. “A film about ourselves. But I don’t have any pictures from when I was a kid!”
Jude waited for her to continue. She didn’t.
“No pictures at all?”
“Nope. No pictures, no videos. Nothing!” She spat the last word out like something distasteful.
The obvious question of why was on his tongue, but he didn’t put it into words. Indigo glowered, her face lean and irritable. She looked ready to bolt.
“So why don’t you get something else?” he suggested. “Do it like a documentary but from the point of view of the present.”
Her lips pursed, untrusting.
“What do you mean?”
Jude leaned nearer, his fingers dropping down on top of hers, half expecting her to pull away, but this time, for a reason he couldn’t guess, she stayed still.
“Make it like any old documentary you’d see about past events,” he explained. “Use a voiceover and stuff. You’ll need to find some old photos of the area where you grew up. I could come along with you and help you get some updated footage if you’d like. We could film your house and stuff. I know a bit about computers,” he added with a chuckle. “I could help you search for pictures from the archives.”
Indigo leaned in, her hand flipping underneath his fingers so that they were now palm to palm. She was still pale, but her voice had changed. Grown softer.
“Why would you do that for me?”
The pad of Jude’s thumb stroked over the side of her hand, his breath catching.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Indigo stared down at their hands on the table. She began to worry her bottom lip with her teeth, marring the gloss. Jude tightened his fingers around hers, leaning in so his mouth was against her ear.