Unleashed

by Amy McCulloch

  They’re not the only ones who know how to be sneaky.

  There’s even word that some people are using handwritten letters to pass the word around.

  Talk about old school. I’m surprised there are still enough of us left who know how to use a pen and paper.

  On the morning of December 31st, Zora and I are the first people to show up outside one of the locations – City Hall – the strange buildings that curve like wings around the public square. It’s freezing cold, but we’re not planning to stay here long. I dig my hands deep into the pockets of my winter coat. Jinx curls around my legs, a black mark against the white snow. Now that we’re confronting Moncha, he doesn’t want to hide any more.

  ‘Do you think anyone will show up?’ I ask Zora, shuffling nervously.

  ‘I hope so. Wow, look at that.’ Zora gestures behind my shoulder.

  There’s a new addition to the popular neon T-O-R-O-N-T-O sign, a tourist attraction next to the public ice-skating rink. It’s a back-lit statue of a raccoon baku to signify the new partnership between the city and Moncha Corp.

  Even despite everything happening today, I chuckle. It’s a fitting choice.

  I still love bakus. It was a question everyone asked us on the forums: Are you trying to ban all bakus?

  There’s only one answer to that: of course not.

  ‘Holy bakus, Lacey. Look.’ Now Zora is pointing at the street just behind the ice rink. We can see a couple of pink and orange jackets, bright against the otherwise grey backdrop of concrete high rises and dirt-covered snow banks. ‘They’re from St Agnes, I’m sure of it,’ she continues.

  Okay, Jinx . . . our part of the plan is in action. now you have your job to do.

  >>I’ll be back before you know it.

  I look down at the watch I took from Mom’s bags. Such a strange thing to have on my wrist, so analogue and mechanical. I quite like it. I might keep it.

  I need the watch, because I no longer have a baku. I place Slick down on the ground at my feet, his switch powered ‘down’, so he’s one of the first bakus involved in the protest.

  More and more people start arriving in the square. I swallow down my surprise and the tears that threaten to spring up in my eyes – I thought that maybe our class group would come along, the ones who knew Zora and me personally, but there are kids from all grades here – and from different schools too. No one knows how to get the word out like teenagers.

  And today, we have rallied.

  Because of the cold, there’s not a lot of chitchat. But our plan isn’t to stay for long. One by one, in the courtyard of City Hall, the students unleash their bakus, power them down so they can no longer move and leave them in the snow. Animals great and small – from beetles and birds and tiny mammals like Linus, all of that expensive technology, immobile and frozen like statues – litter the ground so that it is impossible to walk into the building without taking notice.

  Because we love our bakus. We love the technology.

  But we are not going to be ruled by it.

  Moncha Corp got one thing right – we want to build the future. Not have it taken from us.

  There’s a screech of tyres, as a van branded with a local news network logo pulls up outside City Hall. Zora puts her hand on my shoulder. ‘I’ll organize things here, make sure that the media gets the message. You better hurry along to Moncha HQ. Put my brilliant code into action.’

  ‘You bet. You’ve done an incredible job,’ I say, giving her a quick hug, muffled by our respective down jackets. She’s right; I don’t have a lot of time. I have to join Carter at Moncha HQ. But I feel buoyed by what I’m seeing at City Hall. If St Agnes teens have shown up, maybe Profectus and other schools will too.

  This is something that affects all of us.

  A ride-share car takes me down to the east side of the city, where Moncha HQ is located. This is going to be a much trickier part of the plan, where I’m going to need every inch of my skill to make it happen. I don’t have Slick with me to check what’s happening and to see if I have any messages. I have my old phone, the one with the broken screen, but not many people have the number. I just have to trust in the people who are leading this with me. Zora over at City Hall. Carter at Moncha HQ. Jake on his app. And Kai, River and Ashley, who’ve taken the lead on rallying Profectus teens. I have confidence in all their abilities.

  But I’ve heard nothing from Tobias. I kept expecting a message, half-hoping it was him whenever Slick buzzed.

  You’re not together, remember? He did that when he chose his family over you.

  I steel myself, gritting my teeth. I don’t have time to moon about over a boy. I have a job to do. The relationship drama can come after.

  There’s an electronic beep inside the car. ‘I’m afraid I’m not authorized to take you any further,’ says the robotic driver.

  ‘What? Why not?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not authorized to take you any further.’

  We’re still a good few blocks away from the headquarters, so I have no choice but to head the rest of the distance on foot. I mutter curses under my breath – this must be yet another way that Moncha are trying to discourage the protest – by making it difficult to even get close to their headquarters. The plan is spiralling out of my control, each side of the battle attempting to outwit the other. All I need is a little longer. A little more effort.

  I’m running late now. I pick up into a jog, my breath streaming out in front of me like I’m a fire-breathing dragon. A dragon with enormous boots on to ward away cold toes and a jacket so big I look like the Michelin Man.

  But then my breath is almost stolen away from me as I finally round the corner to Moncha HQ. There are baku statues everywhere here – and not just level 1s and 2s. Because these are mostly Profectus teens, there are higher level bakus too – dogs and cats, monkeys and birds – scattered all over the red brick courtyard. It’s a jaw-dropping sight.

  The media have made it to the scene. It’s strange to see them scrambling with old-fashioned cameras, as the baku birds they would traditionally use are refusing to display any footage. Between this and the cars, Eric Smith is really digging in. The measures smack of desperation. He must know his time is running out.

  Especially because his son is out there, leading the revolution.

  I can see Carter across the square, giving a statement to the media. I head over to listen to him. He sounds louder and more confident than I’ve ever heard him, channelling his normal arrogance to my cause for a change. He emphasizes how the protest isn’t because we don’t want our bakus – we love our technology – but because we cannot update – not until there are assurances in place that bakus will never be used to adjust our personalities.

  Crucially, I notice that he is also attracting the attention of the Moncha security – exactly as we had planned. I can see the slick black panther bakus gathering behind him in front of the main door to the building.

  ‘Oh, there you are!’

  I spin around to see Kai, River and Ashley waving and running up to me. Their faces are bright red with exertion, eyes shining with excitement. ‘Happy with the turnout?’ Ashley asks.

  ‘Happy? I can’t believe it . . .’

  ‘I know. But you’ve got a lot of people behind you, Lacey. We’re all worried about this update,’ says Kai.

  River sticks his hand out to me. There’s a pass inside. ‘Carter told me to give you this. Good luck. You’d better hurry. I don’t think we’ll be able to keep the protest up for much longer. Rumour has it they’re bringing the police in to shut this all down and clear the bakus.’

  I take a deep breath, taking the pass from River’s hand. He grips my fingers as we touch. ‘Don’t worry, you got this,’ he says.

  ‘And if I don’t?’ I ask, swallowing hard.

  ‘It’s not all on you. We’re behind you. They can’t ignore us, Lacey.’

  ‘I know. You’ve done your part. Now I’ve got to do mine and reverse this update once and for
all.’ We shake hands properly this time, as if we are generals on a battlefield. Ashley gives me an enveloping hug. Then, they turn around and walk back towards the sea of frozen bakus. I take another moment to admire it. This is what a lot of tiny drops of concern can raise: an ocean of protest.

  There’s a nudge against my boot. I look down to see Jinx at my feet.

  >>Everything is ready.

  You have your army?

  >>I have them in place.

  Good. Let’s do this.

  >>I have found an unobserved entrance you can use.

  My heart skips a beat. You mean, we can use?

  >>I must go a different way.

  So I have to go in alone?

  >>You won’t be alone for long. I promise.

  What if Eric finds me first? What if we get lost or separated or it’s too late . . .?

  >>We won’t.

  I crouch down, staring into Jinx’s shining dark eyes, the eyes of the little creature who has stolen my heart. Once again, perhaps for the last time, I have to trust him. I close my gloved hand tighter around Carter’s pass, programmed from his baku.

  The side door is much more low-key than the front, a staff entrance that might go unnoticed to the untrained eye. If Jinx hadn’t pointed it out to me, I don’t think I would’ve found it on my own.

  I take a deep breath and walk up to the door. I touch the pass against the brick wall, feeling a little silly. I steel myself for the pass not to work, for the technology to somehow realize that I don’t have a baku with me – only a plain motherboard coded to resemble a baku’s entry code to a scanner. But it’s not that sophisticated. It recognizes Carter’s entry code from the pass River handed to me, and the brick wall melts away to reveal the interior of the building: the long hallway paved in dark hardwood and the brightly coloured walls.

  At least Eric never pulled the plug on his son’s access to the company headquarters.

  Now I follow the map that Carter hand-drew for me. It’s hard to navigate in the building, as there’s little-to-no signage anywhere – only miles of painted walls, hung with large pieces of valuable artwork. Why would anyone need signage when their bakus could guide them, and who went anywhere inside the headquarters without a baku?

  Luckily, Carter has taken this into account. At any other time, I would have been surprised by his scrupulousness, but then – I wouldn’t have given him the time of day before now. Funny how events can turn even your best judgements on a dime. Even as little as a month ago, I would have said there was no universe in which Carter and I would be friends.

  Now, we’re working together. Maybe still not quite friends, but collaborators.

  A shared goal will do that.

  ‘Turn right at the rainbow artwork,’ reads his note. ‘Following the blue wall – not the red.’

  That’s not hard to find. I quickly come across a cascading rainbow of lights, streaming down in an endless waterfall. It would be almost hypnotic if I didn’t have a job to do.

  I duck into a doorway as some Moncha employees cross the path I’m meant to take, but they’re walking fast, concentrating on information being fed to them by their bakus. ‘Do you know what’s going on outside?’ one of them says to the other.

  ‘No idea. But I think they’re sending a panther baku team out there now to disrupt the protest.’

  ‘There’s one at City Hall too. And in High Park. Our resources are going to be really stretched.’

  ‘Stupid teenagers, what are they even protesting about? The update is a good thing.’

  Then they move away from earshot. My stomach churns. Eric has all his employees blinded to the true nature of the update. And soon the security teams are going to be mobilized in force.

  That means I have to make my move even faster.

  Once they’re out of sight, I dart down the hallway. It widens out into a mezzanine-type space, with a set of sofas to one side, and small hammocks for bakus to rest in. I have an eerie jolt of recognition as I realize that the map is leading down towards the arena. I stare down at the paper again, re-reading the directions and checking myself against the landmarks Carter has identified. I’m going the right way. Eric is holding Monica and the other Lake Baku ‘volunteers’ in the team rooms of the Baku Battles arena.

  And why not? It’s the perfect hiding place. Quiet. Secure. Private. Large enough to fit all of them in.

  I take a deep breath before I open the door. Jinx . . . I hope you’re coming.

  THE TEAM ROOM IS STILL set up as I remember it, with the names of the Baku Battle team captains on the doors: Gemma, Dorian, Pearce, Elektra . . . and Tobias. Each in their own, specially chosen font. My paper sign is gone.

  It’s a stark reminder that those battles were only a month ago, and yet so much has changed since then.

  I shake my head. I can’t be dragged back into nostalgia. I need to get to the arena.

  But the door opens before I even touch the handle. ‘Who let you in here?’ barks a familiar voice. My heart sinks and I close my eyes. I was hoping to have found Monica by now.

  I open my eyes, slowly, willing with every movement for this to be a dream. But it’s not.

  Eric is standing there, with Monica in tow, surrounded by a security team with their sophisticated panther bakus. The sloth, Pardem, is still draped around her neck – she’s still under the influence of the update.

  ‘It’s over,’ I say, although my mouth is almost completely dry. ‘I’ve come to reverse the update.’

  ‘No one can reverse the update,’ Eric says. ‘Now move out of my way. Monica is going to make a statement to the press herself. It’s time to show the world that all of Moncha supports this update. Then everyone will fall in line.’

  ‘But it’s not true,’ I say, attempting to stall him, darting out in front of his path to prevent him from leaving the team room. His red panda baku bares his teeth at me, but I stand my ground. ‘Monica, please listen. You can’t allow Eric to do this. This is your company – your life’s work.’

  But she just stares at me blankly, the ghost of a smile on her face. ‘The future of Moncha Corp is safe in Eric’s hands,’ she says, with all the charisma and conviction of a drowned rat.

  Eric doesn’t waste any time. ‘Get her out of the building. She’s trespassing.’ He signals to his team, who grab me roughly beneath the arms. They half-drag me back through the door.

  ‘I can walk!’ I say, trying to shrug off their grip. But they keep their hands on my shoulders, perp-walking me out. I feel like a criminal. Jinx, where are you?

  Hope drifts further and further away as we reach the huge, wide-open lobby, its once comforting plant-and-light-filled interior now a place of dread.

  But Eric stops a few feet away from the front doors, and the security team stop too. I crane my neck to see what’s happening.

  And that’s when I see him: Jinx, standing in the middle of the Moncha HQ atrium. The cat baku looks so small amongst the huge surroundings, but his presence is big enough to stop us all in our tracks.

  I just hope he’s brought his army.

  ‘Oh good,’ Eric growls. ‘You brought that thing straight to me. Now I don’t have to go looking for it to destroy it.’ He snaps his fingers. ‘Security, get that baku,’ says Eric to the guards behind me.

  >>Are you ready?

  Ready.

  ‘Jinx, do it!’ I cry out loud.

  He sprints towards us and I stumble backwards. My arms flail in the air, swinging like a windmill, throwing my captors off-balance. Then the atrium is a flurry of commotion as we’re surrounded by a sea of cats – a mixture of real and baku – all of them under Jinx’s command. They pour out of the walls, having hidden in the nooks and crannies meant for bakus. Jinx melts in amongst them, disappearing as they swarm across the lobby floor, crawling over the sofas and jumping over railings, surrounding the feet of Eric, Monica and the security team.

  The security bakus are instantly confused. They can’t attack the real creatures bec
ause of their inbuilt safety systems, but they also can’t seem to tell the real Jinx from the doppelgangers. They are able to find the other cat bakus, and they disable them with a swipe of their paws. But there’s still too many.

  Even I am taken aback. When Jinx told me that he would be able to confuse Eric by bringing other cats into the building, I was expecting three or four other cat bakus – nothing like this. I certainly didn’t realize that while I was away, Jinx was able to befriend real cats – the ones that haunted the parks of the city, the descendants of pets that people used to keep before bakus became the norm. He’s created a cat army.

  Eric is aghast. He tries to shield Monica from the wave of cats, but they’re covering her now, crawling up her arms and legs. She stays stock-still, unperturbed by this strange encounter.

  But Eric can see one particular cat aiming for the leash at Monica’s ear. He lunges towards Jinx, but I jump into action too. I barrel my way through the cats and into him.

  He’s more solid than I realize, and I don’t manage to topple him over – only knock him slightly off course. But it’s enough time. Jinx plugs into Monica’s leash, the sloth struggling to the ground under the weight of other cats pinning him down.

  There’s a beat as both of us watch what’s about to happen to Monica. I close my eyes, whispering a prayer to whatever tech gods might be out there, listening. But Eric reacts faster than me. He snarls like an animal, pushing me off him and reaching towards Monica.

  I stumble on to the floor, sliding on the slick polished surface. One of the security guards strides forward and grabs me underneath my arms, clutching them behind my back. Eric grabs Jinx and throws him to the floor, and I cry out, watching my friend being treated that way. He lands on his feet – but only just.