Sunlight 24

by Merritt Graves

  “When you put yourself in the right position, the company finds you,” I answered in a deep voice shaded with a hint of a European accent. But, as soon as I spoke, Chris looked like a deer that had just heard a twig snap in the woods.

  “Is that how it works, now?”

  “It’s the way it always has,” I answered, touching my mask, speaking deeper and applying the accent in thicker and thicker coats with each word.

  “I’m aware of people who’ve been looking pretty hard without much luck,” he said sarcastically.

  He knew, and he knew I knew.

  Magus seemed puzzled. “Is there something we’re missing here? Do you know each other?”

  “I suppose you could say we know of each other,” Chris replied, grimacing, bringing his hand—in a fist—to his mouth, before slowly turning back toward me. “So . . . Carter. Are you having a good time? Was it worth the entry price?”

  “There’s no—” Lena started.

  “Sure there is,” Chris said. “But it wasn’t a concern for him since he wasn’t the one paying.”

  “I must say, this is rather curious.” Lena didn’t look curious as much as puzzled. “Do you know each other from Alaska?”

  “Alaska?” asked Chris.

  “I do know Chris, actually,” I said, breaking in hastily. “I didn’t recognize him at first through the mask, but he’s a friend of my cousin’s. And uh, I think we need to catch up for a second . . . though I wouldn’t want to bore the rest of you.”

  “Bore? I don’t think there’s any risk of that,” said Chris with an unmistakable edge.

  “Excuse us one second,” I said, smiling at Lena and the others, then reaching over and wheeling Chris around to the side.

  “Jesus Christ, what are you doing?” I asked after a few paces.

  “What am I doing?” he said, shoving me off his arm.

  “Listen, I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean—”

  “Really, you fucking asshole? Are you really going to try to justify it?”

  “Well there’s a lot of—”

  “They’re taking away my scholarship, you know? Someone’s squirrel drone captured my license plate—I bet you didn’t think of that, did you . . . and boy, did my folks get a shock when the SWAT team busted down the door. No one really knows yet, not even Lena since she still invited me, and I showed up hoping I could change her father’s mind . . . but he’s not even here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I tried to tell them I didn’t know you were in trouble, that you’d just asked me to give you a ride to help Michael. But they insisted that we were such good friends, and I had to know more than I said I did. They kept showing me closed-circuit footage of us sitting together at lunch and before school, telling me I was lying, over and over, like that’s all they wanted to believe.”

  “I, I . . . never meant—”

  “Never meant what, exactly? Never meant the robberies, or never meant to sneak through Michael’s window, or never meant to lie to me about Michael having a seizure and use me to escape, or never meant to . . . to do whatever it is you think you’re doing here? Jesus Christ, Dorian, how the fuck could you not mean it?”

  “I—it’s just . . . things just . . . one thing led to the next and I thought I . . . thought I could . . .”

  “You thought you could get yourself out of it.”

  “I know it looks bad, I can see that, but it all happened so fast. I mean, not the robberies, but all the other stuff—it all just cascaded. That stuff I wasn’t choosing to do. There wasn’t time to choose.”

  “Especially if you’d already made up your mind.”

  “I know I won’t be able to convince you if that’s how you want to see it.”

  Chris paused. “Want to see it? What do you mean, want to see it?”

  “I mean . . . there’s a lot to this, but if you’re going to condemn me anyway then it doesn’t really—”

  “So it’s me, then? I’m the one condemning you? I’m the one being unreasonable? I’m the one who—”

  “Who hasn’t asked to hear my side! No, you haven’t! You’ve assumed the worst because you’ve always thought everything I did was unsavory, and now you think you’ve been vindicated. And I suppose . . . I suppose now you want me to admit I was wrong all along and just eat it. Just accept that I’m worthless and go quietly die somewhere!”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Yet you’ve been trying to Revise this whole time, too, haven’t you?”

  “Of course, I’ve been trying to Revise, too! Do you think I’m stupid? Just because I was getting along the best I could without it didn’t mean I didn’t want it. Of course I wanted it, but wanting something doesn’t give you the right to steal!”

  “It does when it’s your human right and you can’t get it any other way.”

  “I managed to find another way.”

  “I thought you said that was being rescinded?”

  “Yeah because of—”

  “But they’re still rescinding it, Christopher! They’re still rescinding it! They left you a few crumbs, and now they’re snatching them back. That’s the fantastic other way you’ve found!”

  “Did you even try to find another way?” Chris yelled, his eyes reddening.

  “What was there to try? Even now, even after all of this, you don’t get it, do you? You can’t try something you don’t have the equipment for. You can’t be an astronaut without a spacesuit. It’s that simple.”

  “I’m so mad at you, Dorian. I’m so fucking mad at you.”

  “You’re mad at me because I’m right.”

  “No, I’m mad at you because you fucked us over!” Chris shouted, causing the people nearby to look over at us.

  “And I can explain that, but you haven’t even asked—”

  “I already know your side! You thought the world owed you.”

  “Only a freaking chance.”

  “And so you took mine.”

  “Like I said, that was an accident!” I burst out, starting to feel tears of guilt and anger pricking behind my eyelids.

  “An accident?”

  “Yes!”

  “When you take as many chances as you did, buddy, it doesn’t lead to accidents, it leads to incidents. Inexorable, inevitable incidents.”

  “And I bet it’s inevitable that you’re going to call the police, isn’t it?”

  He smiled a twisted, haunted smile, and I realized he was shaking. “That’s all you’re thinking about, isn’t it? Yourself! It’s all about you, even now, after everything that’s happened, it’s just about what’s going to happen to you!” He shook his head, his tone cooling to a low simmer as he caught his breath and looked around the room. “Here’s the thing. They told me if I helped find you that they’d let me off. And I’ve been helping them look. But . . .” He sighed. “And I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this . . . but things will go ten times better for you if you’re the one to turn yourself in. Just . . . just tell them I convinced you to do it, okay? You have to do that. Michael still cares about you, and I . . . well I don’t know anymore, honestly, but either way, this needs to end. So, if you promise to turn yourself in, and tell the police I saw you and called them . . . I’ll wait one minute. But you have to swear an oath.”

  I tried to say something, but nothing came out.

  “You have to swear to me.”

  The first tear streaking across my face was like a warning shot, but after the second they all seemed to come at once, and I broke down. After all the effort, all the defending, all the maneuvering and justifying, the thing I’d been trying to hold up for so long was collapsing on me and there was no point in fighting it anymore. “Chris . . . I’m so sorry.”

  He looked away.

  The tears kept coming. “I . . . I . . . you’re right, I—I fucked up. It got out of hand. I’m so sorry. I’ll turn myself in. I swear.”

  “Okay, but you need to go now. We’ve already been seen talki
ng too long.”

  “I just . . . I just want to say. I really thought that . . . I really thought that—”

  “Dorian, you’ve got to go.”

  “I know. It’s just that I want to tell you, Chris, that you’re my best friend . . . you’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for. And I’m so sorry. I was trying so hard to be strong, but I . . . I . . .”

  “Dorian . . .”

  “I just wanted to tell you that, but I’ll go now,” I said, smearing tears under my mask and walking backwards slowly, and then quickly turning around and disappearing into the crowd of dancers.

  Dorian, Dorian, Ethan’s voice echoed in my bug as I passed into the hallway. How’s it going in there? Can you come let us in through the back now?

  “Us? Who’s us? There’s no time, Ethan. We have to scrap things and get out of here.”

  What? Really? But I . . . He paused. His voice was quivering. At least let me see the party for a second.

  “We don’t have time for that, we gotta go!” I snapped.

  Well, which door are you coming out?

  “Probably the back. Why does that—”

  The call cut off as I wound my way into the kitchen. The chopping, stirring, and scrambling of the caterers was like the gears of a clock working together to produce a simple, smooth, external tick. “I’m looking for the back door,” I said to one of them.

  “It’s down that way,” he replied, pointing to an unlit passageway.

  Chapter 45

  I opened the door and saw Ethan standing there, dumbstruck, as a masked figure materialized under the porch light beside him. It was something other than shock on his face, though, and somehow, I wasn’t shocked either. I think a small part of me always knew that there wasn’t any getting out of this. My hands went clammy. Things lost their perspective; Ethan seemed so distant, monochrome and out of focus, while the grass and trees were black, tangled shapes moving closer to the foreground.

  The masked figure pointed a gun at me and the order of things restored itself. I looked down at my hand on the knob and considered slamming the door.

  “Don’t do that,” he said in a haunting, synthetically modulated tone, following my eyes. “Take off your mask. Don’t say anything.”

  Another figure popped out of the shadows. And then another, and another. I did what I was told. The ringleader strode through the door and gestured toward the ballroom. “And to think you were just going to do the safes. What a shame that would’ve been,” he said over the convivial voices filtering down the corridor.

  “Jaden, you’re going to stir up all kinds of hell if you do anything more.”

  He smiled through the mask. “I know.” And with that, he waved his three accomplices down one passage and motioned for me to take the lead down the other wider one back to the ballroom.

  I wanted to freeze and hold back time long enough to make sense of things, but when I hesitated he grasped me firmly under the arm and guided me past cowering caterers in the kitchen, where the displays on the thermostat and appliances were blinking their deep red eyes. I couldn’t feel myself actually walking; I just knew I was moving—floating, really—getting closer to the slanting lights and clinking crystal of the ballroom. Dancing shadows leapt from side to side on the wall to my left, their pirouettes primal, manic, as if they were being licked by flames from the candelabras.

  We neared the doorway as Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 began trickling out its first few notes, and I expected everyone to stop and notice us but, because it was a masquerade ball, Jaden was able to wait patiently while those behind us snaked around the fringes to the other exits.

  “Get on the ground, all of you!” his modulated voiced boomed across the marble floor and the high, vaulted ceilings. “Unless you want to find out what kind of shot I am.”

  People began shouting.

  Both the guards in the ballroom collapsed on the floor, seemingly hit by Tasers or some other kind of directed energy weapon.

  “Down! Down! Down on the ground, hands up on your heads! Don’t even think of dialing out!”

  My eyes flitted around for Christopher and Lena as we reached the room’s center, harnessed in the flurry. Two of the masked figures were running up the steps, their guns leveled at a few young couples leaning against the balcony, while the rest arrived in front of the other exits. The ballroom was being hemmed in on all sides and I wanted to get lost in the confusion and find Lena before it was too late, but through it all Jaden’s hand was still upon me, fluttering and light, informing my every movement. A vase crashed to the ground somewhere. A bloodcurdling scream came from over by the ice sculptures.

  Once everyone was on the floor, Jaden sauntered over to a punch bowl, stirred it with his finger, and popped it in his mouth. “Spiked punch, rather crass for something so distingué, don’t you think?”

  Silence sounded in the void left by the orchestral quintet, giving me time to wonder how Jaden had woken up so quickly? And how had he known we’d be here?

  He tilted the bowl forward and a small river splashed red across the marble. “Now everyone needs to listen carefully. I’m going to pass this around and you’re going to remove your bugs and films and place them slowly inside. Some of you will feel tempted to only feign putting yours in, or to put yours in and grab someone else’s. Don’t. That would only tempt me to hurt you.”

  He looked at the floor and shook his head. “I know that you all think you’re pretty clever, but just remember, bons nageurs sont à las fin noyés.”

  He handed the bowl to a redhead in a sequined evening gown who was huddled under a table. “Where’s yours?”

  Without looking at him, she removed the bug from her ear and dropped it in the bowl. I’m not sure it really mattered if anyone did, though, because my film was showing that both the Wi-Fi and the 7G network were down, the signal in the millimeter wave spectrum somehow being scrambled. It had probably been Jaden who’d caused that temporary outage earlier, setting up whatever he was using to cause the interference.

  “And your film, too, dear.”

  He tugged on his mask with a gloved hand. “Please do note the significance of us hiding our faces and speaking through modulators.” For a second his voice switched to a whisper, as if he was sharing a great secret. “We want to let you go.”

  One by one, bugs and films rattled into the bowl. Despite the disguise, I could see Martin’s lips curl, Magus’ green eyes scan the room. Their BCIs gathering sensory inputs to determine whatever their next move would be. You’d think they’d be more Revised than Jaden, but I didn’t know what I knew anymore. It was all seeming to take on a dream-like, magical bend, so outside of what I thought was possible. So far outside of how I thought the world worked.

  Yet, just like a dream, there was a certain strange coherence to it, too. Even though Jaden’s voice was disguised, the vibrations in his vocal chords tingled hints of recognition as I sifted through memories of us together playing ping pong and basketball, sea kayaking with Dad. Although it was as surreal as the Rene Magritte painting hanging above the wet bar, it was the same underneath it. The same haunting quality, like a dissonant piano chord pedaled steadily in a low octave. The strokes relentless, but the timbre leisurely and decadent—red wine and a chocolate truffle wrapped up in a warm melody. The words flowing out cordial and confident, as if all the world’s knowledge had been compressed into a note that was now being casually hummed across the room.

  Jaden shouted at someone to stay on the floor and I wondered why he hadn’t made me get down with the rest of them. And then my thoughts circled to what had been in the back of my mind ever since I’d opened the back door. How had he known I was going to open it? I’d assumed they were waiting to pounce on the first person who happened to come by, but the corridor had been pitch black and no one else had been back there.

  The room started spinning again. The only person who’d known I was coming was Ethan.

  Ethan, Ethan, Ethan. I panned across the
disarray, not wanting to believe it, and found him standing between two of the nearby ice sculptures, shivering. Some of the fans had been jostled in the chaos and were facing away now, leaving the sculptures to drip their forms slowly and exquisitely onto the marble. It should’ve been a warning sign that he didn’t onboard things the same way I did, wearing his ideas instead of consuming them, and since he had no fuel inside to propel him forward, like the sculptures, his entire existence was contingent upon the favorability of the external conditions.

  I glanced over again and our eyes met. Along with the sadness and the dread, there was a faint flicker of apology, too, confirming that he’d done it. He’d shown himself in the motel room, but it wasn’t just the parts of him I’d seen before that were oozing out now, but emergent ones so fear-blackened that only needle to the eye pressure could’ve cooked them into existence. I should’ve known then that he was going to turn to Jaden. It made sense, in a way: my brother was the one person we knew who might be able to do something. And he was, along with the band of Counter Insurgency players that he’d brainwashed. How many of them were there, even? I’d seen two go the other way out the kitchen, there were two up on the balcony now, and another three with my brother—that made eight. Just what were eight people doing robbing a house?

  “Is that everything?” Jaden asked, after concluding his circumnavigation of the ballroom. “You’ve still got a few seconds to toss ‘em in. Going, going, going . . . gone.”

  He paused while he examined the masked faces, then looked down, pressing a few buttons on a touchpad. “Shhh. Everyone quiet.”

  A couple seconds passed.

  “Can you hear that?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and listened. There was nothing at first, but after a while I heard a buzz zipping across the room. Like me, the guests were all looking around to see where it was coming from or, since it was so faint, if others had noticed as well.

  “Maybe this’ll help,” said Jaden, exaggerating his vowels. He slid a gloved hand across the pad, and the soft buzz tilted to a frequency previously unimaginable, like a band saw gnawing through metal plates.