“Little late now,” said Ethan.
“I guess you could call it water over the bridge,” said Arthur, looking around mechanically. “Get it. Because of the rising sea levels.”
Ethan cracked up.
“Yes, Arthur, we get it,” said Michael rolling his eyes. “Chris, does this thing have a warranty?”
“Two years.”
“He probably just put it on some cheeseball setting,” I said, instinctively going around behind, opening its interface, and starting to sift through its menus.
“Wow, Dor, you’ve gotten really good with electronics,” Michael commented as my fingers danced around the keypad. “It seemed like just yesterday I was showing you what a router was.”
“You’re a good teacher, Mikey. You should just follow more of your own advice,” I said, finding the humor module and raising the values of ‘off-color,’ ‘snarky,’ and ‘acerbic.’ My plan was to gradually seem smarter leading up to the science fair next week so it wouldn’t be too jarring afterwards, but I still had to be me. And to keep from overdoing it, I’d gone in and paused half of my nanobots, switched off my film’s cloud access, and slowed the clockspeed on its CPU.
“This should do the trick.”
Chris looked at Michael. “What’d he do to it?” And then at me. “Dorian, is it going to strangle me in my sleep now or something?”
“Not unless you’re into that kind of thing,” I said.
“Due to health risks, asphyxiation is outside my sexual programming parameters. However, I’m willing to make an exception for you, Christopher,” said Arthur.
“That’s what he did to it,” said Michael.
“Jesus,” said Christopher, laughing.
A firefly flew by Arthur and he reached out and snagged it between his fingers. It was a little startling because up until then his movements seemed clunky and labored, while this was a precise, near-instant blur of metal. “Does anyone have a jar?”
“Dare you to put him inside your casing,” said Tony.
“Don’t, Tony,” Chris shot back. “I’m the one who’s going to have to clean it out.”
“Dude, it’ll be chill seeing him light up. Especially if he goes and gets some of those.” Tony gestured over toward the tree line where there were huge drone bugs flickering blue and green in between the rest of the fireflies.
“Wow, those must be new,” said Michael, his eyes getting wide as he followed Tony’s gaze. It always amazed me how enamored he was by the smallest things, even when there was so much big stuff going wrong around him. Not being so much naïve per se, just highly particular about what he chose to focus on.
“It’s weird having fireflies out this early. What’s sunset, like 6 p.m.?” asked Tony.
“Something like that,” said Christopher.
I’d read an article recently that said the success of the pollinators was opening up the door for lots of other beneficial insects or ones that people just found cool. They’d engineered kudzu bugs, for example, to eat even more kudzu than they did naturally without eating soybeans, stinking, or leaving a stain when they were squished like they usually did. The reasoning went that unlike biological plants and animals, if a synthetic species started causing unintended harm its programming could just be tweaked, so why not experiment?
But instead of thinking about things too much like I did when the nanobots were supplying more oxygen, it was nice just getting lost in the moment. Simply being of the guys again, transfixed by the sublimity of having multi-colored fireflies floating around you in the winter.
“So, where’s this Julie?” I asked.
“She’s coming. In fact,” said Michael, looking up as if he was reading something at the top of his film, “she’ll be at that trailhead in five, four, three, two . . . and voila.”
“Thank God. I was worried it was going to be a sausage fest,” said Arthur.
“You guys Full-T or something?” asked Tony.
“No, we just share each other’s GPS,” answered Michael.
“Gotta make sure the missus isn’t getting dizzy and busy out there on da town, right?”
Chris shook his head. “Jesus, Tony.”
Ethan grinned. “I never got how folks think they have to be joined at the hip or they’ll miss this big thing. ‘Cause if it is a big thing you’re gonna hear about it anyway.”
Michael looked thoughtful as he sat down at the picnic bench. “It’s just kind of nice to know where the other is, so you’re not wondering if they’re okay.”
“It’s not like it’s the Gaza Strip out there,” said Ethan, who clearly hadn’t turned down his nanobots. “Come on, nothing happens here. And if it did, it’s not like you’d be able to run over and save her. If she’s going to trip and stub her toe, the girl’s gonna trip and stub her toe.”
“There’ve actually been a lot of robberies around town. But I think it’s just because they care about each other,” said Chris. “Is that so hard to grasp?”
“Hey,” Julie said, walking over. And then a few moments later when she was closer, “Michael’s told me so much about all of you guys.”
“I keep tellin’ Mikey here it’s not gonna matter how deep we buried the bodies if he’s gonna go . . .” Ethan made an up and down motion with his hand.
“I’m more of a feed the pigs kind of a guy myself,” I said. “Helps me get my solid eight.”
“Good to know,” said Julie slowly. “Just one sec, though—I’ve just got to share our location with Samantha.”
“Samantha?” I asked. I had an ex-girlfriend named Samantha Ringley.
Michael turned toward me, making a face. “Julie’s friends with her, but I didn’t know she was coming or I would’ve told you. I thought she was bringing Bisby . . .”
Samantha had been a perfectly fine girlfriend, but she was kind of a loose cannon. When we broke up, I was just trying to focus on sports and school, back in the old “ignorance is bliss” days. “Michael, we went out in junior high. It’s only awkward if you had sex and shared all your dirtiest secrets. We were too young for that.”
“What junior high did you go to? I was rolling in pussy at F Douglas Central,” said Tony as he made something between a gang sign and a pistol with his hand.
“I guess I was just hanging with girls that you didn’t have go to the doctor’s after you kissed,” I said.
“Yeah, Tony. You hooked up with some real monsters, if I do recall,” said Ethan, his eyes lighting up as he leaned against the park table. “Hopefully you at least had them scrape the cum off their teeth before they got busy.”
“Fuck you,” Tony said. And then turning to me, “Samantha had quite the list of football guys she worked into the rotation if my memory serves. Probably a good solid half of the DBs and a third of the backfield. Second-string included.”
“Why don’t you tell her that when she gets here?” I said. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from a loud, misogynistic doucheport like you who—in nearly the same breath—brags about how often he gets laid while slut-shaming someone else.”
“In Tony’s defense . . . actually, I’ve got nothing,” said Ethan, snorting with laughter. It was good to see him enjoying himself for once—especially considering it was at Tony’s expense. Normally I didn’t like ganging up on someone, even if they were being an idiot, but Tony could take the punches.
“And hasn’t Sam been going out with Rory Emmerson for the past three years?” asked Michael.
“Yeah, they’re really cute together,” said Julie.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show her what she’s missing,” I said, doing my best model head roll, making one of those annoying pursed-lipped pouty faces. “But do you wanna know who’s also really cute together? You guys. Mikey says y’all met in a drone park,” I said, alternating looks back and forth between them.
Michael smiled. “Yeah, when she flew her octocopter into mine.”
“I did not,” Julie protested.
“Yeah you did.”
> “OK, I did. And he was such a gentleman about it.”
“Damn. He must really like you, because he gets pretty anal about his avionics,” I said.
“Do not,” said Michael.
“Oh yeah? Remember the time you freaked out when you dropped your Hindenburg project for Mrs. Cooper’s class in sixth grade? You cried until they called your mom.”
Tony was always bringing up people’s most embarrassing moments at times when they least wanted to be embarrassed.
“Hey Tony, remember the time when you didn’t say anything stupid? No, me neither,” I said.
Julie smiled at Michael. “I’ve actually always been impressed by what a cool head he has. I’ve gone through some rough times with my stepdad and Michael always knew what to say.”
“Yeah, he’s the best friend you could ask for,” I said.
The reunion was jarring and disorienting, but it made me feel safe for the first time in a long time. These people knew me. And at least some of them cared about me. Even if they were getting swallowed up by the world, they were still here now. That had to count for something.
“Oh, there’re Samantha, Rory and Nathan.”
“Nathan, too, huh? Is he my replacement or something?” I asked, not meaning for it to sound as petty as it did. It was weird. I felt like I was on the outside, knowing they were all hanging out without me, but it was all my doing. And even though I understood why I was doing it and how I needed every second of the day now, I still felt I was drifting away from something solid and irreplaceable.
“Touchy, touchy. Especially for someone who doesn’t care about anything,” said Christopher.
Michael looked serious. “He’s an addition. That doesn’t mean there’s a subtraction.”
“Except for Spencer. I don’t know where that kid’s been lately. You called him, right?” asked Christopher.
Michael nodded.
“Well hello, hello. I see you’ve fished my ex-boyfriend out of a puddle of his own vomit. This isn’t awkward at all,” said Samantha as she walked up.
I shrugged in agreement. “Good to see you, too.”
She turned to the rest of the group. “I’m just a little sensitive because Dorian is the only guy who’s ever broken up with me.”
“You dodged a bullet,” said Tony.
“A missile,” said Christopher.
“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get some orders,” said Arthur. “We’ve got corn, veggie kebabs, real meat, fake meat.”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t choose any of them since the Sunlight 24 technician had said we couldn’t eat anything for twenty-four hours before the procedure. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal afterward, when I’d be able to tell my hypothalamus to produce more CART and aMSH proteins and less NPY and AGRP, but now I was feeling like even tree bark wouldn’t be so bad.
“I thought you weren’t going to let it cook,” said Ethan.
Chris shrugged. “I’m not going to wrestle him for the job.”
“Real meat,” said Samantha.
“Rare, medium, or Challenger?” deadpanned Arthur.
“Challenger? What’s he talking about?” asked Tony.
Michael looked disgusted. “It’s a NASA space shuttle whose fuel tank caught on fire after takeoff in 1986. It’s trying to make a joke.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “It should try harder.”
Ethan laughed. “No, no, it’s brilliant. Its algorithm must combine accidents from history with current, relevant, surrounding conversation. Very elegant. It probably mixes in some dead celebrities, too.”
“Maybe River Phoenix will rise from the ashes,” said Arthur, his metal lips twisting into something like a grin.
Ethan cringed. “Well. It’s early, right?”
“I think it’s time to turn you down a few degrees,” said Michael, moving towards the instrument panel.
“But I was just warming up,” said Arthur, gesturing toward the grill with the bottle of lighter fluid. “Get it?”
“Jesus Christ. Switch him off,” said Julie.
“No, just back to where he was,” said Chris. “I had him set at the best place. Believe me, I’ve been through all of this stuff.”
“Okay, he’s back. He’s back. Everyone can take it easy,” said Michael.
The lightness I was feeling got even lighter, wrapped up in a distant memory from when everything was so carefree. Our group was larger, the jokes were funnier. Everything just had this shine to it. I didn’t have to be so cynical because I didn’t have anything to be cynical about. It made me want to turn my nanobots down even lower, maybe even take down the DBS. Unfortunately, the myelin sheath was semi-permanent or else I’d dial it back, too.
“Dorian, you kinda smell like smoke. You, too, Ethan,” said Michael, moving over to stand next to me by the condiment table.
“Well, it is a barbeque,” Ethan quipped.
“No, cigarette smoke. You guys . . . started smoking?” asked Michael, disapprovingly.
The nanobots fished all the toxins out but I couldn’t say that. I also couldn’t say I needed it for “stress reduction.” So I was left with, “I’m only doing it to look cool.”
“That’s not funny,” said Michael.
“Yeah it is,” said Tony.
“My dad smoked. He was a pretty cool guy,” said Julie. “He also died of acute chronic bronchitis.”
“God. I’m sorry,” said Nathan.
Chris put his hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”
“Maybe I just like the thrill of mortality,” I said after a few moments. “Besides, I think it’s been shown that if you quit before you’re thirty, your lungs basically turn pink again.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Michael responded, in a voice that made me think maybe we were pretty shitty influences. Our nanobots might’ve removed all the ammonia, hydrogen cyanide, and arsenic from our bodies, but it wasn’t like anyone else here had them.
“Come on, Michael. Don’t be such a drag,” said Arthur. He then extended his hand toward me. “I wouldn’t mind a smoke. This is my first time hanging out with the cool kids and I don’t want to blow it.”
Chris put up his arms, trying to pre-empt the coming criticism. “I didn’t program it. My sisters are the ones always messing with him.”
“Don’t bring them into this,” I said, snickering.
“Dude, I don’t make jokes like that. Michael, I thought you fixed him!”
“I thought I did!”
After glancing at Arthur’s display screen for a few moments and seeming to make a couple adjustments with the keypad, Michael walked awkwardly back over to us. “So, Chris . . . are you nervous about that announcement tomorrow?” Unlike Tony or Ethan, who would stick with a subject indefinitely no matter how uncomfortable it got, Michael’s lower pain threshold led him to more actively manage a conversation’s direction.
“I’m trying not to be since it’s out of my hands, but looking back . . . I wish I would’ve done more. I could’ve mentored at the Thornton before-school program if I’d really wanted to. I would’ve had to move morning training up to four, but . . .”
“You’d have gotten like four hours of sleep,” said Michael. “No man, you did everything you could.”
“This is for the Community Spirit Scholarship, right?” asked Tony.
“Yeah,” I said. “Chris has really been bending over backwards to win some gift certificate to Applebee’s.”
“The Applebee’s is just the cherry,” said Chris, playing along, but the break in his voice giving away just how much it meant to him.
Michael looked at me funny. “Haven’t you heard? This year the winner gets a pretty decent Revision battery. Like a full CPU/brain interface with nanobots.”
My mind snapped to attention again as I alternated glances between Chris and Michael. I’d been so focused on the casing and the drone-making—and now all the stuff with Jaden—that I hadn’t researched the scholarships much this year
. Occasionally they’d offered a decent chunk of change, but since they fell so short of what you’d need to Revise it all had added up to a knife fight over leftovers. “Damn. Well, that makes a little more sense.”
Chris frowned. “I was going to do it anyway. I’ve been at St. Mark’s since we were in junior high. This just . . .”
“Sweetens the pot,” said Ethan.
“I don’t know what you’d call it,” Chris said, shrugging. “I suppose it makes me try harder, but . . .”
I tried to picture Chris Revising, but couldn’t. He was just too much of a tragic hero—the Captain that needlessly goes down with the ship. He’d been working out all summer for football and track and his muscles were showing through his shirt, while I’d stopped working out a while ago and mine were bigger. And I was faster. And I was smarter. You could tell that underneath all the bluster he sensed the futility, but this kind of eleventh-hour begging was the farthest he was willing to go to salvage things.
“You don’t have to justify yourself,” said Michael. “They just wish they would’ve done it now.”
“We’re doing the science fair thing instead,” said Ethan. “Gotta pick your spots.”
Chris smiled. “You guys? Seriously?”
Michael made another strange face. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but maybe he was planning on entering as well. When I asked him about himself, he always told me about all the science stuff he was learning in Young Explorers and his weekend NASA class at the library. But I hadn’t asked him lately, and since Michael was almost absurdly concerned about not being self-centered and not wanting to bore anyone, he hadn’t brought it up either. “You’re not doing it, are you, Mike? I thought your parents wouldn’t let you Revise,” I said.
“Well yeah . . . but they say things like ‘someday it’ll be safer’ or ‘more understood’ or ‘God will make his plan known.’ You know stuff like that. So, it’s always been in the back of my mind that if the right thing came along, they might change their minds.” He made a shrugging-it-off kind of face. “But Revising’s not the only reason. I mean, I’ve had this idea to grow plastic-eating microbes for years, so now just seemed like the time to try.”
I couldn’t help but glance at Ethan. Christ. We’d never hear a word in complaint from Michael, but us winning the science fair would be squashing this kid’s dreams. It was stomach turning. Yet, at the same time, Revision was oozing out of us now, even with the slowed nanobots. Ethan had just said something about Hebbian learning in class today. And I constantly caught myself putting things in too abstract of terms. This needed to be accounted for. And the thing was, if we could just get ahead of Jaden and tighten up our story for the cops if it came to that, then we could Revise Michael anyway, even better than he’d get from winning.
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