“You’re not subtle, sweetie,” the man says when I arrive.
“Did I need to be?”
The man’s eyes slide to the left, and I tense when I see what he sees. Several avatars in black suits are closing in around us. They aren’t actual people—their metallic skin and glowing eyes give them away. Mierda. Defense programs. Maybe I should have tried something subtler after all.
I activate my shielding program just in time to deflect the blue stun beams that burst from the nearest defense program’s eyes. They bounce off my shield, glancing up toward the ceiling, but I know there’ll be more. I step in front of the man with the toupee. “Get behind me!”
“No, jack out,” he whispers. “I’ll find you in meatspace.”
“¡Hijo de la chingada! Fine.”
I swing my shield around, blocking more beams—red this time. This just gets better and better. These security programs have Puls.wavs. The only thing worse than stunning a jacker and preventing them from logging out is shooting them with a Puls.wav. One hit and your brain is melted forever. As soon as the man in the toupee disappears, I jack out too.
logging off network
disconnection complete
Thursday, 06-10-65 09:56:53
I JERK BACK INTO my body, breathing heavily. Someone has my shoulder in a painful grip, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Sasha. She stares down at me, muttering urgently, “What’s going on? Where’s Rami?”
I start to answer, but someone else speaks first. “Here, cupcake.” Instead of a balding gringo, a young woman is heading toward us at a fast clip, high heels clicking on the marble floor. She has long black hair and smooth brown skin, with golden contours on her high cheekbones. Her lips are painted a deep shade of maroon.
“Rami.” Sasha lets go of me, leaning in for a hug.
“Reunions later,” Rami says. “Run now!”
I shake the blood back into my tingling limbs and hop out of the chair. More men in suits are approaching through the crowd, real ones this time, although they’re trying to avoid attention.
“This is your fault, isn’t it, Nevares?” Sasha groans, glaring at me.
“You said find Rami. I found Rami. The rest was your job.”
“I thought finding them without alerting security was implied.”
Rami pushes Sasha toward the exit. “Come on, you can flirt with the new girl later.”
I hurry after the two of them, brushing past several startled-looking people in business suits.
“Cherry’s outside, right?” Rami asks.
I check over my shoulder. The security guards have started jogging, so I pick up the pace too. “Sasha, is she?”
“She’d better be.” Sasha comes to a hard stop, and I almost bump into her. There’s no clear shot to the exit. More guards in suits have converged on the doors, forming a line to block us.
The surrounding crowd finally starts to notice. Several people murmur in confusion while others duck behind the kiosks, fear on their faces.
“What now?” I hiss.
Rami doesn't seem upset. They smile and start counting off. “Three, two…”
When Rami hits “one,” a loud boom shakes the foundations of the building. Several people scream. Most of the security guards whirl around, aiming their rifles at the doorway, which has become a smoking crater. The once-silvery metal walls are now black and smoldering, with twisted support beams jutting out.
I freeze up. The smell of smoke is in my nose, my throat, the rapidly tightening cavity of my chest. My ribs are getting smaller and smaller while my heart thumps harder and faster.
“Run!”
Sasha grabs my elbow, hauling me forward hard enough to jerk my shoulder in its socket. That snaps me out of it. We make a break for it, hoping that the guards are still distracted enough by the wreckage not to notice the three of us escaping. We sprint through the cloud of dust and rubble, coughing and sputtering—or at least, I’m coughing and sputtering. Sasha never seems to tire.
Clear of the blast zone, my watery eyes pick up a welcome sight. Cherry is parked at the curb, perched atop a sleek black hoverbike in glide mode. A smile spreads all the way across her face when she sees Rami. “Babe!” she shouts, waving one arm in a beckoning motion.
“You blew up the front door,” Rami yells back, taking the steps two at a time.
“Because I love you,” Cherry hollers. “Even though you left me in Brazil!”
“How do you run so fast in heels?” I gasp as I stagger down the front steps. I don't know how Sasha finds all these magical bitches who can run ops in perfect makeup and designer shoes, but if I wasn't terrified of dying, I'd be jealous. Anything to keep my mind off…this.
Rami climbs onto the front of Cherry’s hoverbike. “I'd never leave you for long,” they say, exchanging the helmet Cherry is offering them for a kiss.
“I know.” Cherry wraps her arms around Rami’s waist, and Rami revs the engine, speeding off down the street.
That leaves me and Sasha. “Come on,” she barks, hopping onto a second hoverbike parked right behind Cherry’s. Sasha guns the engine, and I have just enough time to clamber on and fling my arms around her waist before we zoom off.
We pull out into the road, weaving between parked cars. Drivers stick their heads out of car windows, gawking at the smoldering remains of AxysGen’s front door. It's a wreck, but the building’s still standing, and I don't see any mangled bodies. Cherry must have placed everything perfectly and timed it to the millisecond.
It’s cold comfort to my racing heart. These rescue missions just keep getting worse and worse. The plasma belching from the hoverbike mixes with the scent of the explosion, and I gag on the sour air. Get me out of here, I think, and fortunately, Sasha’s on the same page. She peels off down the street, and I bury my face into the back of her leather jacket to block out the stench I can practically smell with my eyes.
“Heads up, Nevares. We’re being followed.”
Despite my reservations, I tear myself away from the safety of Sasha’s back and look back over my shoulder, shaking my head to see through the whipping locks of my hair. Several more hoverbikes have pulled out onto the street behind us. Their engines roar dangerously as they snake through the maze of parked cars, trying to catch up.
“Reach in my pocket,” Sasha yells.
Before I can, she lurches over the curb and up onto the sidewalk, nearly mowing down several pedestrians. On the opposite side of the street, Rami and Cherry have found a safer path. Cherry lets go of Rami’s waist, pumping her fist in the air. Clearly, she’s having the time of her life.
“Reach in my pocket!” Sasha shouts again.
This time, I manage it. When I pull my hand out, I'm holding a fistful of small blue orbs. Mierda. Biogrenades. She really wants me to throw them? One of the AxysGen hoverbikes puts on a burst of speed, drawing close enough for me to see the red lettering on its side. The man riding it points a rifle directly at me.
My entire body breaks out in sweat, and the biogrenades nearly slip out of my hands. If I throw them, it’ll mean another explosion. Just the thought has me shaking like crazy. But it's throw or get shot. I toss the biogrenades in a panic, praying I won't accidentally hit any pedestrians. Shit shit shit. This will be all my fault, just like before.
Luckily, the biogrenades hit their intended target. The tiny blue spheres stick to the man’s chest, and he veers off course while trying to rip them off. A moment later, his bike explodes in a ball of flame.
“Nice one, Nevares!” Cherry cheers from across the street.
I don’t answer. I can’t answer. My stomach lurches with fear and guilt, and I almost lose my lunch as Sasha veers around a sharp corner, gunning through an alleyway that definitely isn't wide enough to drive down. I'm pretty sure I'm going to puke if we don't pull over soon, but the third security guard is still following us, and he’s gaining rapidly. In desperation, I shove my hand back into Sasha’s pocket. No biogrenades left, although I’
m not sure I could make myself throw them again.
We burst out of the alley and onto the waterfront, snaking through groups of startled tourists. Pigeons squawk, people shriek, and I almost get a face full of parasol as a woman walking her poodle dives for safety. I wrap my arms around Sasha’s waist, squeezing her as tight as possible.
Around the side of Sasha’s flapping jacket, I make out where we’re going, a bicycle path that leads over the river. The miniature bridge is splitting in two, rising on either side to let a ferry full of shocked boaters pass through. Several gasp and point as they realize what’s about to happen.
“What the fuck, Sasha?” I scream into the wind. “This is a hoverbike, not a flying bike. You’re gonna get us killed!”
Sasha slams on the gas. “Hold on!” She speeds across the bridge, sailing off the edge and over the water.
For one fantastic, sickening moment, I feel like I'm flying. Then the hoverbike slams down on the other side of the bridge, shock absorbers shuddering and squealing. Only my desperate grip on Sasha keeps me from flying off as we hit the pavement. We speed off down the street, leaving the AxysGen motorcycle far behind. After a few more swooping turns, Sasha brings the bike to a halt. I have to blink several times before the world stops spinning.
“Hey…”
I open my eyes to see Sasha’s face—or, rather, three of Sasha’s faces—floating in front of me.
“Nevares, you with me?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m fine.”
I bend over the side of the bike, throwing up all over the sidewalk. By the time my stomach stops heaving, another hoverbike has pulled up beside ours.
“No fair,” Cherry says over the purr of the idling engine. “I wanted to jump a bridge.”
“It wasn’t a real bridge,” Rami points out. “Just a bicycle bridge.”
“I still wanted to jump it,” Cherry says “Now, mi vida, mi amor, mi tesoro, would you like to explain why you left me, your wife, in motherfucking Brazil without even trying to look for me?”
I continue to retch, but my stomach’s already unloaded all its contents.
“I was trying to protect you, to protect all of us,” Rami protests, sounding hurt. “I thought I could—”
“You were thinking long term,” Sasha says. “I get it.”
“I don’t,” Cherry snaps.
“Enough. Rami couldn’t just hole up with you in your bunker and wait for AxysGen to show up.”
“Why not?”
I straighten with a groan. I’ve gone from panic to numbness. The arguing is making my head hurt, and I can't take much more. “¡Cállate el pinche hocico! Take me somewhere not in the middle of the street. Somewhere we’re not gonna get shot, either,” I say in a trembling voice.
“Oh my god.” From the look on Rami’s face and the wary glance they cast at the puddle of vomit on the sidewalk, they’re just realizing what happened. “Sweetie, are you okay? Sasha, what did you do to this poor girl?”
Sasha seems to notice how messed up I am. “Nevares—Elena? You okay?”
It takes moment to process the fact that Sasha said my first name, and another to realize she’s pushing my hair back from my face, staring at me with something that looks almost like concern.
“Yeah.” I wipe my mouth on the back of my sleeve. “I’m okay. And I never, ever wanna do that again.”
“Come on, sweetie,” Rami says. “Let’s head back to the hotel. You could probably use some mouthwash.”
I swallow around the raw burn in my throat. Rami’s not wrong.
Thursday, 06-10-65 13:42:29
I SWISH THE TOOTHPASTE around in my mouth and spit, staring at the white foam as it circles the drain. I've brushed my teeth four times in the hotel bathroom, but even though the taste is long gone, the sharp smell of vomit is still trapped in my nose.
The more I think about our escape from AxysGen, the angrier I feel. Sure, the hoverbikes were cool, in theory. The explosion was cool—or I would have thought so once, before the incident at the hotel. Even jumping the bridge had been cool.
But, I can't forget the terrified people leaping to avoid our hoverbike and the biogrenades. I didn't hit anyone innocent—this time. And what about the guy I blew up? Corps are evil, no question, but he was probably just a cog trying to earn a paycheck. Before I started jacking, I would've done any kind of shitty corp job to keep my hermanitos fed.
Don’t be stupid, I tell my reflection. It was him or you. It’s true, but that doesn't make me feel better. I could justify it in Siberia, sort of, because the guards we killed were holding Rock hostage. He was badly injured, and if we hadn’t freed him, he might have died in that cell. But the lady walking her poodle? She was an innocent bystander.
“What the hell were you thinking, Sasha?” I murmur into the mirror. My reflection doesn't give answers. I need to go to the source for those.
I rinse the sink out and return to the hotel room. We booked three: one for Rock and Doc, one for Cherry and Rami (who, from the PDA I witnessed during their arrival in the lobby, are probably making up for lost time), and one for me and Sasha. She’s my absolute last choice for a bunkmate, but I can't split up a married couple or siblings.
Sasha lounges on the bed, staring at the ceiling with her hands behind her head. Her body is relaxed, but her dark brown eyes are wide open. She almost looks like she’s in a trance.
I clear my throat.
“What?” Sasha asks without moving an inch.
“Bathroom’s free if you want it.” I cross the room to pull back the curtains, resting my forehead against the window. Cold from the glass seeps in through my pores as I stare down at the street. The yellow lights are fuzzy, almost like fireflies.
“Leave them shut,” Sasha says. “We don’t want anyone seeing in.”
I keep my face against the window. “On the seventeenth floor?”
“One of the largest corps in the world wants to kill us, in case you hadn’t noticed. I don't think a window will stop them.”
I turn around. “Oh, I noticed. I also noticed we could have killed a bunch of innocent people today. What the fuck, Sasha? I signed up to erase myself from AxysGen’s database, not blow up old ladies walking their dogs. There’s a big fucking difference.”
Sasha sits up without using her arms. For a split second, I forget I'm angry. It's impossible not to notice the way her muscles move beneath her compression shirt. The white material’s so thin I can see her dark skin through it, the line that bisects her stomach, the half-hard peaks of her breasts.
“You didn’t blow her up, did you?”
Oh, right. I'm supposed to be pissed at her. “Yeah, this time. But what about next time? I’m all for sticking it to the corps, but I draw the line at killing civilians. And honestly? The fact that you’re okay with that risk bothers me.”
“It bothers you?” Sasha narrows her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry it bothers you, Nevares, but this is life or death.”
“Yeah, it is, and our lives aren't the only ones that matter. Your empathy only goes as far as your crew, huh? Risk your life for four people and the rest of the world can go fuck itself?”
Sasha abandons the bed and stalks toward me. She towers over me, cold brown eyes glaring down into mine. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Drop this before you say something you’ll regret.”
I glare right back up at her. I don't care if she's my handler. I don't care how sexy she is. I don’t care if I could probably reach her stupid mouth with mine if I grab her neck and stand on my toes. Sasha was reckless before, and she's being a pendeja now. My conscience has standards even if my concha doesn't.
“What I’m regretting is saying yes to your crackpot plan. Tell me you’ll be more careful, or I’m out. I’ll take my chances on my own.”
Surprise flickers in Sasha’s eyes, and then a hint of fear. Doc was absolutely right back at the Hole. Sasha and the crew need me as much as I need them. I've got leverage here.
Sasha re
mains silent for a long moment, her whole body a rippling mass of tension. It feels like steam’s pouring off her skin and clinging to mine. At last, her shoulders lower an inch and she backs off. “Fine. We try to keep our hands clean. But I have to know you’re ready to do what it takes to survive, Nevares. I don’t need someone on my crew who hesitates.”
“I can handle it. If someone’s shooting at me, I’ll shoot back. But if there’s someone innocent in the way, I’m out.”
Sasha turns away, pulls the curtains shut, and throws herself back on the bed without another word.
I take the hint and head over to the hotel’s complimentary terminal. It’s not much, but it has a jacking port, and that’s all I need. I drop into the chair and plug in.
network: ag 48851 . 23528
connection established
welcome: user escudoespiga
My body relaxes as soon as I hit the extranet. It’s been forever since I plugged in without worrying about something or someone melting my brain. I take a moment to savor the freedom of floating in a world of code before focusing on my messages. I open the ones from my hermanitos first. They’re short but increasingly worried, the last one especially:
“elena where are you. abuela keeps asking n i dont know wat to say. please tell me ur safe. i dont trust the news. jacobo.”
My throat stops up. Logically, I know there hasn’t been time for me to answer their messages, but I still feel guilty. My brothers always count on me to provide for them, to do right by them, and I’ve been doing a shit job lately. I never seem to make enough credits to buy them the things they deserve, and I never seem to have enough time to give them the love they deserve either.
I dictate a response as fast as I can think it: “cant tell you where but im safe. with a new crew. not safe to come home, but i miss you and ill see you soon.” After a brief hesitation, I add, “tell abuela i got to visit the eiffel tower. beautiful.” Sasha won’t like me giving away our location, but AxysGen definitely knows we’re in Paris already. “heres some credits. love you.” I attach the last of what I have in my shell account and send the message off.
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