The revelation did nothing for Mineko’s nerves. “What are you saying? Why would you admit that to me?”
“Because I don’t think you’re likely to tell anyone. My name’s Kade August. I’m a journalist.”
“Trespassing is forbidden.” Sweat clung beneath Mineko’s collar, and her palms had grown damp as well. “As is wearing a uniform you’re not entitled to.”
Kade seated himself on the broad ledge of the window sill and gave her a thin smile. “The Code doesn’t apply to non-Codists.”
“Civil Obedience Law is enforced wherever and whenever the integrity of Codist territory is threatened. They’d wipe you for being here.”
“I’m not inclined to care what District Affairs thinks.” Kade plucked the front of his stolen uniform. “To you, this is a symbolic, near-sacred garment. To me, it’s just so much ugly black cotton.”
Mineko glanced through the door’s single pane. The corridor remained empty. “Why would you take a risk like this? You know who my father is.”
“I certainly do. Tell me, what happened last night? What business did you have with Lexi Vale?”
Panic slammed the air from Mineko’s lungs. So somebody had seen her. Now what? It seemed pointless to lie. If they had evidence, Code Intel wouldn’t be playing games—they didn’t care about confessions. No, Mineko had to steel herself for the truth.
“I wanted to see her, that’s all.” Mineko squared her shoulders and looked Kade in the eye. “I’m now guilty of associating with an intruder, and I had no shortage of problems already. You owe it to me to explain yourself.”
“As I said, I’m a journalist. An investigative reporter for the Revolutionary People’s Gazette. We speak the truth of the oppressive inequality the Codists perpetuate upon Foundation.”
Nothing he’d said made any sense. “But why are you here?”
“Because Codists raided Lexi’s apartment last night. Don’t worry, she wasn’t there. Seemed to have been warned in advance.”
Mineko’s head swum. She leaned on a study desk for support. “So she did listen to me.”
Kade nodded. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her to go into hiding, that’s all. They’ve gathered plenty of intelligence on her, and they’ve just been biding their time.”
Kade’s grim face was impossible to read. “I assume this is related to that aug of hers, the one we call the suicide chip. I’d heard rumors your people invented it. Is that true?”
It was one thing to steal secrets and act on her own initiative. Another entirely to confide in a mysterious revolutionary. Mineko stared out the window. Dark clouds had gathered to sap the morning light. Despite the gloom, the sound of laughter and striking leather suggested that a group of students was playing football on the lawn. Football was an approved activity, but only so long as it was non-competitive.
“Well, that’s not important right now.” Kade’s tone remained measured. “What matters is conveying to Lexi that this isn’t a game. She’s shrewd, but she’s arrogant too. She loves to take risks.”
“Can’t you explain all this to her?”
“Wouldn’t work. She doesn’t listen to me.” Kade ran his fingers through his untidy black hair. “To be honest, I’m hoping you can do it. After last night, you might have earned yourself a little respect with her, and that puts you in a rare category of people. She may take you seriously.”
Surely Mineko’s bedside alarm would soon go off, rescuing her from an increasingly absurd dream. “Are you asking me to leave campus today? But it’s dangerous, and I have classes…”
“You don’t have another lecture until four, and I’m sure you can sacrifice a little study time. Tell me, how did you get in and out last night?”
It wasn’t fair he should know so much while remaining an enigma, but sulking would get Mineko no closer to an explanation. “I used a service entrance. I stole the access code from my father’s computer.”
“Good. So there’s nothing stopping you.”
This man was infuriatingly persistent. “If Lexi doesn’t trust you, why should I? Surely someone who can read minds is a good judge of character.”
“I said she didn’t listen to me, not that she didn’t trust me. If she were here, she’d vouch for my honesty.”
That made little sense, but Mineko was hardly an expert on human behavior. Besides, if Kade was trying to deceive her, his agenda was entirely inscrutable—why risk his life in a stolen uniform if not in the service of the truth? And Project Sky was such a terrible truth…
“Where can I find her?”
“There’s a diner on the south side of the district, The Tofu Palace. I had a friend of mine arrange a meeting under the pretext of making a drug deal. In reality, the only person showing up is you.”
“How am I supposed to get there?”
“I’ll show you the way, but I won’t hang around. If she spots me with you, she’ll suspect a set-up.”
Mineko blinked. The strange man was still there, fixing her with the stern look that suited his stolen uniform so well. There was nothing to do now but relent and hope this madness would come to a gentle conclusion. “I’ll do it, but I hope you understand how terrible the risks are for me.”
“Oh, I understand. I’m taking those risks too, remember. But Lexi isn’t going to take care of herself. Like it or not, we’re going to have do it for her.”
“I have to say, she sounds like a very unreasonable woman.”
Kade gave a wry smile. “She’ll listen when it counts. You just have to make her realize that time is now.”
* * *
It had been intimidating to walk the streets of the district by night, through colored lights and suggestive shadows, but at least the darkness had offered anonymity. By day, there was no chance of Mineko’s overalls being mistaken for anything but a Codist uniform.
And strangely enough, nobody seemed to care.
“People see the uniform, they look away,” Kade said. “And while that’s useful right now, I wish it were otherwise.”
Mineko stared around her. On either side, apartment buildings rose as high as eight stories, though most of their windows were boarded. Run-down stores squeezed between the apartments, their windows advertising everything from computer parts to freeze-dried food.
“Why aren’t they resentful?” said Mineko. “Our enclaves are so rich.”
“Misdirection.” Now that he was outside, Kade seemed ill-at-ease in his stolen uniform, frequently tugging at the collar as if he wanted to remove it. “Despite being the real power in Foundation, the Codists let the gangs appear to rule. Thus, when things go badly, people blame the crime lords. Of course, when things go well, people simply credit themselves.”
“I know the reasoning, but it’s hard to believe it actually works.”
“Political consciousness is a luxury most don’t have. They’re too busy trying to survive day-to-day. I write articles, but people have to actively choose to read me. It’s not enough to start a revolution.”
They neared an intersection flanked by a pair of inert traffic lights. A supermarket operated on one corner. White paint peeled from its walls and several of its windows were boarded, but the animated sign above the doors was lively enough—a many-hued jumble of letters that declared the odd site to be The Conveni-Mart.
A figure emerged from the supermarket trundling a trolley piled high with cardboard boxes. “What do people use for money?” said Mineko.
“Most people barter, but your currency has value on the streets. In fact, it provides the nearest thing there is to an economy. The gangs do deals with the Codists, they get paid, and the money circulates the districts. Even we revolutionaries end up using it.”
Curiosity was beginning to eclipse Mineko’s nerves, and she couldn’t resist another question. “Are there many revolutionaries?”
“You’re the daughter of Gaspar Tamura. You tell me.”
Mineko bowed her head. Out here, it was all the more
embarrassing to be reminded of her status. “I’ve overheard that our enemies number in the several hundreds. But my father and his people don’t take you seriously. They say you should all be left to District Affairs to deal with.”
“So they still underestimate us. That’s good to hear.”
“I suspect you don’t have hundreds working on your newsletter, though.”
The sound of Kade’s laughter was unexpected—it was a pleasant, relaxed sound, nowhere near as grim as its owner. “No, you’re quite right.”
They reached the traffic lights, and Mineko thumped the ‘walk’ button, purely for the fun of it. After waiting for a pair of bicycles to fly past, she and Kade crossed the road to resume traveling on the far side. More apartment towers loomed about them, some with railed upper balconies. A man was standing on one such balcony while flicking out a towel. He had to be seven stories up—what would the view be like from there?
“You look at everything,” said Kade. “I’d forgotten how novel all this must be for you.”
“There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why are you trusting me? I’m a Codist, and worse, I’m one of the elite.”
“Late last night, I learned that Lexi had attacked a gang member at one of her usual clubs. That seemed strange, as she and that gang, the Menagerie, are tight. So I hurried over to investigate.”
“And that’s how you found out about me?”
“Exactly right. I questioned people at the club, asking if they’d seen anything unusual. They remembered that a Codist had been asking for Lexi. An Asian girl, they told me, early twenties, roughly five foot four, her face partially obscured by black hair.”
A nervous jitter moved in Mineko’s chest. If Kade hadn’t been the only one asking questions… “So how did you identify that girl as me?”
“I’ve seen you in photographs of your family. The description was right, and I couldn’t imagine who else would have that kind of knowledge.”
Ominous. “Why do you have photos of my family? Do you use them for dartboards?”
“Know thy enemy.” Kade pointed. “You know what’s this way? South?”
“The Rail District.”
“The very same. It used to be called Bare Hill, and you’ll still find a few locals ancient enough to remember the name. I grew up around there. It’s not as bleak as some, but it’s not pretty.” Kade gestured to the decaying apartment towers. “You probably think this looks like hell on earth. In reality, this is one of the nicest districts in town.”
Once more, Mineko stared at the street around her, taking in the broken windows, the crumbling masonry, the cracked, pockmarked pavements. It was shameful, yet inspiring too. “I don’t want to hide from the truth of what I am. What my family represents. I’d like to visit Bare Hill someday.”
“You mean the Rail District.”
“No. I mean Bare Hill.” Mineko met Kade’s eyes, which had by now lost much of their intimidating coldness, though it was still difficult to interpret what he might be thinking. “I’m sorry for being your enemy.”
Kade smiled. “Which suggests you may well be my friend.”
* * *
The diner turned out to be a cheerless, white-brick cube wedged between an accounting business and a closed-down pharmacy. The street outside was filthy, its gutters choked with bloated, putrefying garbage, and the only venue garnering any kind of attention was a rancid dive on the corner. Neon letters above the door gave its name merely as BAR. Perhaps it had a longer name that was only available on request.
“I’ll wait inside the bar for ten minutes or so,” said Kade. “If you don’t come looking for me, I’ll assume it’s all gone well, and I’ll head home to get out of this uniform.”
Mineko eyed the windows of the diner. Even from the street opposite, there was no mistaking the slim, white-haired figure sprawled in one of the window booths. “Is white her natural hair color?”
“What? No.” Kade chuckled. “Save the questions for her. She loves talking about herself.”
“Okay. But won’t you get into trouble in the bar, dressed like that?”
“They know me there.” Kade gave her a thumbs-up. “Try to relax. You’ll be in her good books now. She’ll treat you like a princess.”
Mineko could have done without the royal metaphor, but she nodded. She crossed the road, stepping carefully over the reeking gutters, and approached the diner with her head lowered. No, no, that was all wrong—she needed to be assertive. As she pushed open the door, setting bells tinkling above, she inhaled deep and held her head high.
The Tofu Palace couldn’t have been less palatial. Its vinyl tile flooring had numerous sections peeled away, and a painted row of dancing soybeans decorated the counter. They looked like deformed green babies. Overhead, the interior lights buzzed as they saturated the room with excessive heat.
Lexi was the only customer. She sat in a booth that comprised two long seats facing one another over a thin strip of plastic. Each seat could have fit three people, but Lexi had chosen to laze on hers as if it were a couch, stretching her long legs and resting her back against the window. She lifted her hand in a nonchalant gesture of welcome.
“Good morning,” said Mineko.
“Mineko, right?” There was something about the sly angle of Lexi’s smile that made it difficult to hold eye contact. “I don’t always remember names, but yours stuck.”
“Yes.” Mineko forced herself not to look away. The scandalous memory of Lexi kissing a woman the night before—that was her problem. That sort of thing definitely didn’t happen on Mineko’s side of the wall. “I’m sorry, but the person you thought you’d meet here isn’t coming.”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t really in the mood to take a job anyway.” Lexi nodded at the opposite chair, and Mineko took a place at the table. “Edamame?”
Mineko blinked. “I’m sorry?”
Lexi pushed a small bowl across the counter. It contained a handful of green, fuzzy soybean pods. “Go on. I’ve stuffed myself already.”
“I’ve never tried eating these before.” Mineko took a pod and frowned at it. “It seemed too messy.”
Lexi moved her fingers to her lips and mimed shelling a bean. “Like this. Pop it into your mouth and eat it. Don’t toy with the poor thing.”
“Um.” Mineko fumbled with the pod, ejected a slippery occupant and crunched into its salty interior. “They don’t taste how I expected.”
Lexi grinned while stretching her legs further, giving the impression of a luxuriating cat in the sun—not a domestic cat, not with that smirk and those knowing eyes, but rather an alpha predator in her hunting grounds. “There’s all kinds of new tastes to discover out here, believe me.”
Had that been a veiled sexual innuendo? It seemed like there was an indecent suggestion in every movement Lexi made, each word she spoke. Mineko took a second edamame pod and gave it her full attention.
“I can tell I make you uncomfortable,” said Lexi. “Want to talk about it?”
“I’m not uncomfortable.” Mineko struggled with the stubborn pod. “I want to talk about the raid on your apartment.”
Lexi rested her cheek on her palm, squishing it. “There’s nothing much to say. You were right, and I’m sorry I blew you off. Now let’s talk about why you’re uncomfortable.”
Perhaps it would be a relief to speak about it. “It’s just… The Code is full of distortions, lies, and bigotries, but all the same, I was raised with it. I know that what I’m feeling right now isn’t fair.”
“I don’t think you have the first idea what you’re feeling.” Despite the scathing sentiment, Lexi’s tone was unexpectedly kind. “What’s your Code say, exactly?”
“The first Codists, the Codifiers, idealized reproductive family units. ‘Family is our first lesson in collectivism.’ So the Code created many prescriptions around sexual activity. A woman kissing another woman, the way you were last night, that’s something it strictly forbids.”
Lexi p
ursed her lips. “Sounds like fancy prejudice to me.”
“I know it’s fancy prejudice. But my parents share it, and I learned so much from them…”
It sounded so cowardly. Mineko closed her eyes for a moment in order to settle her thoughts. To hell with the Code. She was going to think for herself. “I’m ignorant, Lexi. Educated in nothing but falsehood. Please excuse me for it. I intend to learn better.”
Lexi twirled an edamame in her fingers as she gazed at Mineko. “You’ll find bigots everywhere. Not so often someone who’ll admit to being one. Who are you, exactly?”
“My father is the head of Code Security, Surveillance and Intelligence. Code Intel for short. My mother is a general in our military. I understood very early in my life that something was wrong with Codism, yet I’ve never had any way to protest, let alone fight back. But when my father began talking about Project Sky, I had no choice but to act.”
“I don’t know anything about it. Just that it’s in my head.”
“Your implant was intended as a tool for observation and punishment. The purpose of the Project was to create cyborgs who could pass through Codist society and discern who was truly loyal. But the ambition went further. Several high-ranking Codists harbored hopes that these cyborgs might also enter into Foundation, re-educating the districts with perfect subtlety. Codism would spread like a popular movement.”
Lexi arched an eyebrow. “Huh. So why make it an implant? Don’t you guys have big nasty machines that can fuck with our brains?”
“I don’t know the details. My father and his cronies aren’t interested in the science. Just the practical applications.” Mineko tried to shape her voice into something serious, even stern. “Lexi, they see you as the key to restarting Project Sky, which in their mind is the first step toward a unified Codist society. You possess the ability to share feelings, examine thoughts and erase minds, so you must recognize better than anyone what would happen if the Codists secured it for themselves.”
Reintegration Page 3
