Chapter Eight-A

  The city smelled of dead dreams, of a rot spread wide over the horizon, and Malory walked through paradise on the roof of ZenTech tower. The path was accentuated with holograms of exotic plants and flowers she’d never seen, every color a kaleidoscope, each brick engraved mosaics of the world’s creation myths—Mycenaean Greece, Babylon, Ptolemaic Egypt, Achaemenid Persia, India, the Xia, and Rome, each represented, as if to claim dominion over all history stretching back to antiquity. The audacity was the purpose. Nearby was a dining area, a fully-stocked bar, and an Olympic-sized pool filled with so much blue water in front of a screen that projected beach resorts long-lost to the rising tides. In the distance, a skywalk bridge suspended over the abyss. The wealth on display left Malory speechless, and she wondered how Nadia had access to such a place. It was a far cry from the destitution of the orphanage, and she found it unnerving how easy it felt to give in to the fantasy of the space as her own backyard. That she deserved, more than anyone else, ownership. The sense of self she’d etched into the wisps of her soul, the very essence of who she was, roiled in disgust.

  “What the hell is this place?” she asked. Small misters blew out clouds laced with chemist-tailored compounds for relaxation and stress-relief, the formula a step above the first-class hypertrain cabins, and it made her bones itch.

  “A long time ago, it was Herman Mitchell’s playground of debauchery,” Nadia said. She spread her arms out wide, pointed her chin to the sky, and twirled in circles. “Isn’t it amazing?”

  “Until someone killed him,” Mal said. She’d only known the girl to be so full of life when she was elbow-deep in a new machine. It was her drug of choice.

  “Yeah,” Nadia said. She stopped spinning, clasped her hands behind her back, and headed for the glass walkway at the edge. “It happened up here, you know?”

  “The murder?” Mal followed along and swallowed the fear. She told herself it was worth it to see the look on Nadia’s face, heights be damned. “I thought that was down below? There was a plaque and everything.”

  “How do you think he got there?” Nadia asked. She skipped out over the edge without a care in the world. Beneath her feet, the city stretched for miles, encased by the wall—the totality of all their suffering, of each dream they’d had, of all they ever hoped to become, so far down, down below.

  “You can’t be serious,” Mal said. She forced herself forward and tried to ignore the adrenaline, the shaking. There wasn’t another soul in the universe, not even her own twin sister, that she would follow onto that bridge. It was definitional stupidity, and she did it anyway.

  “He and the assassin both swan-dived into the waiting arms of gravity, yeah,” she said. She put her hands on the railing and leaned out until her feet left the surface. Only a precarious balance on small arms kept her from a sudden reenactment. She flirted with the possibility and smiled wide.

  “Fuck,” Mal said. She came up behind Nadia, wrapped her arms tight around the little maniac, and had to shut her eyes. There were too many thoughts of cracking glass, of loose screws, of wrought-iron giving way, and she used the warmth of her lover as a lifeline.

  “When he died, the place was left abandoned for years,” Nadia said. She let go of the railing and leaned further still—used Malory’s grip as a counterbalance against the inexorable pull. “It’s fun if you imagine the place overrun by moss, the sepulcher quiet, a tarnished jewel on the crown of subjugation.”

  “What happened next?” Mal asked. Her arms strained at the weight. She felt her sanity slip, thought of the ten second drop until they were Rorschach-stains on pavement.

  “The board members fought each other, of course,” she said. She pulled herself back from the edge, content with the dose of chaos, and turned around. She buried her face in the curve of Mal’s neck. “It was a bloodbath until the university opened and one of them had the bright idea to let the honors students use it as a reward.”

  “Hell of a reward,” Mal said. She opened her eyes and looked down at the girl in her arms. Whatever fame came in the future, it was meaningless without her there.

  “They cut the whole thing off from the CEO suite during the remodel,” she said. She looked up into Mal’s eyes and winked. “Wanna get wet with me?”

  “Again?” Mal felt her face flush.

  “Come on,” she said. She grabbed Mal’s hand and led her back to the false paradise. The pool shimmered in the low light.

  “I don’t know how to swim.”

  “But you trust me?” Nadia asked. She started to pull off Malory’s clothes, gentle the second time around, and lingered in some places longer than others.

  “I do,” Malory said. With the last yank of her jeans, she stood free in her underwear and thought it surreal to be near naked where someone died.

  “Good. You’ll learn,” Nadia said. And then shoved her into the water.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  There was the stomach-lurch of the fall, the momentary indignation, and then cold struck her square in the face. The blood vessels in her skin constricted, she felt her muscles seize, and then shock crowded out any forming thought. She did not lash out. Instead, she sank below the surface and opened her eyes, felt the sting, and saw her own limbs floating free through the blur. She wondered if it was the same sensation Lacey Lantern felt in zero gravity, all the desperate who followed her as crew to the beyond on a stolen colony ship—so many makeshift cosmonauts unshackled among the stars. Her ears popped when her feet touched the bottom. It was darker there, more like home, and she thought giving up would be easier. The city always won, in the end, ground down damn near anyone that dared to hope. Clawed them out to a husk and spat on the remains. She’d never give it the satisfaction. A stream of bubbles escaped her mouth when she launched back to the surface. It broke, and she sucked life and conviction deep into her lungs. Nadia was standing in the distance, clothes discarded.

  “Kick your legs!” she yelled. A vaunted sea-maiden that came to taunt the sailor from the rocks. “There you go! I thought I was gonna have to dive in after you.”

  “You’re such a dick,” Mal said. She propelled her feet in fury, arms out to the side for balance. It was manageable with time to figure out what was happening. Tiring, though.

  “Nah,” she said. She slid in nice and slow at the edge, taking a moment to adjust to the temperature. “I don’t have one of those. But they make some pretty good implants for that sort of thing, if you’re interested?”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Mal said. She splashed her in the face.

  “Alright, alright” Nadia said. She spit water from her mouth. “I’m sorry. But it really is the quickest way to learn.”

  “Says the sadist.” It was difficult treading water. Her lungs were abused, organic.

  “Follow me,” Nadia said. She went for the shallow end, her movements graceful and well-practiced, so much unlike the dying dog in her wake. “Congrats, by the way. You’re the second of us to ever learn how to swim.”

  “Why does it have to be so damn cold?” Mal asked. She sat on a step, her upper body out of the water, and struggled to breathe.

  “Oh. I forgot to turn on the heat. Still not used to the network,” she said. Her head leaned to the side and warmth spread untethered. A simple flipped line of code. Her gaze was focused on Mal’s chest.

  “You didn’t forget, you pervert,” Malory said. She splashed her again.

  “I didn’t,” Nadia laughed. It was harrowing in that cursed-doll tone. She’d kept the affectation going so long, she didn’t remember how to speak another way. The conversation halted, and silence stretched between them. Nadia twisted her hair into a braid. “Now, are you going to tell me about this job, and what it has to do with you showing up at my door?”

  “Oh,” she said. Of course Nadia noticed. Dread sprang up, unbidden. The whole thing was fucked even if she’d rationalized it. Asking for help felt like coercion without notice. “I’m supposed to upload a malware package to ZenTech’s mainframe and wasn’t sure how to get access.”

  “Hell yeah, count me in!” she cheered. No scolding, no scoffing, no hesitation. “Let’s make the bastards bleed a little.”

  “You aren’t mad?” Mal hesitated, then reached out and held Nadia’s hands. There was a certainty there, a reassurance the worst of her worry had been misplaced. The Rubicon had been crossed—if not in the relationship, in the lengths Malory was willing to go to succeed. The city, always carving.

  “Why would I be mad? You know I’d do anything for you,” she said. She laced her fingers through Mal’s and pulled her close. “Don’t overthink it.”

  “You’re allowed to say no.” Her sense of justice chafed, but a bit off-balance. She moved closer, took solace in the embrace.

  “But I don’t want to,” Nadia said. They held each other for a while and listened to the lap of water until she stood and grabbed towels for them. “What’s the plan?”

  “Right,” Mal said. She dried off and let the incongruence fade. The work of reconciling emotions was for later, on her own. Business came first. There was no point if they failed, anyway. “The hack should get us through doors, but I don’t know where to go.”

  “That’s easy,” Nadia said. She pulled up the tower’s public schematics on her net while they dressed. “You’ve got two options. An elevator that goes straight down to the sub basement and the mainframe array is the most straightforward, but it's guarded day and night.”

  “Worth taking a look,” Mal said. She laced her boots with a double knot. “I can handle a few guards. Maybe.”

  “Sure,” Nadia said. They left the roof together, and headed back to her dorm. “If that doesn’t work, there's a winding path through the lower floors that can get you to the server farm. Lot’s of walking, though.”

  “Sounds promising,” Malory said. They entered the dorm, the same mess of tech that needed an assistant to keep it organized.

  “You should try the elevator, just to see,” Nadia said. She rooted through parts without a care for their longevity. She was searching for something, and she was going to find it. “I can’t come with you, though.”

  “What?”

  “My scholarship,” she said. She plucked a small box from a tub of screws and scrap metal. “Don’t shit a brick, hot stuff. I’ll still be the little angel on your shoulder.”

  “More like the devil,” Mal said. She took the box, opened it, and turned the contents around in her hand. It was a transceiver that slotted into the ear canal.

  “Put it in,” she said, and connected her neural net. “I’ll guide you from here.”

  “Woah,” Mal said. It felt like Nadia was speaking directly into her mind. Sweet nothings, delivered at a distance.

  “Not as secure as a network call,” she said. She pushed the model of a delivery drone out of the way and plopped on the couch, her legs crossed over a tray of 3D-printed board game figurines. “But it’ll do.”

  “Wish me luck?”

  “Don’t get caught,” she said. She shifted, and knocked a few of the plastic soldiers over. “You won’t get a pretty scar out of it this time.”