Extras u-4

by Скотт Вестерфельд

  "Right, because of your " She resisted the urge to point at his head. It was strange—bubbleheads were the only brain surgers Aya had ever known, and Frizz didn't seem like a bubblehead at all. "But what does honesty have to do with keeping secrets?"

  "Radical Honesty gets rid of all deception," Frizz recited, like he'd explained this a million times before. "I can't lie, truth-slant, or pretend not to know something. You can't even invite me to surprise parties, or I'll give it all away."

  A laugh bubbled up in Aya. "But doesn't that make everything less surprising?"

  "You'd be surprised how often it makes things more surprising."

  "Huh." She stared at the battle, wondering how many things she kept secret every day. "You can't hide yourself at all. That must be scary-making."

  He turned to her. "Scary-making for me? Or everyone else?"

  His gaze sent Aya's shivers scattering across her skin, and she felt a flush returning to her cheeks and a tingle in her spine. His honesty was scary-making! Her head spun with all the questions she was dying to ask, but wasn't sure she could stand the answers to. About why he was here, and what he thought of their difference in ambition.

  "You like me, don't you?" she said.

  He laughed. "Was I being too subtle?"

  "No, I guess not. But it doesn't make sense because you're so famous and I'm an extra! Plus I'm an ugly and you keep seeing me wearing stupid robes or covered in slime and when we met I lied about my nose!"

  Aya sputtered to a halt, wondering where all those words had come from. They'd just gushed out of her, like bubbly from a shaken bottle, fizzing and undrinkable.

  "Wow," she said. "Is Radical Honesty contagious or something?"

  "Sometimes." Frizz was grinning. "It's an unexpected benefit."

  Aya felt herself blushing and tore her eyes from him, staring out at the soccer fields. Only a handful of warbodies remained standing, battering each other with plastic swords and battle-axes. "But why do you like me?"

  He reached out and took her hand, and the reputation shivers became a tightness in Aya's chest, as if she were underwater again, holding her breath.

  "When I first saw you outside that party, you were on a mission—very intense. And then your hood fell back, and I thought, 'Wow, she's pretty brave to wear that awesome nose.'" Aya groaned. "But I'm not brave—I was just born with it. So it was a kind of truth-slanting for me to say it was randomly generated."

  "True. But by the time I realized that, I knew other things about you."

  "Like I'm an extra and live in an ugly dorm?" she said. "And mislead people about my huge nose?"

  "That you sneak into tech-head parties and go on underwater rescue missions. And that you kick great stories, even though they don't bump your face rank."

  She sighed. "Yeah, my stories are really good at doing that."

  "Of course they are." He shrugged. "They're too interesting."

  "That doesn't even make sense." She looked at him. "If they're so interesting, why isn't anyone interested?"

  His eyescreen flickered. "Have you seen Nana Love's feed lately? She's been picking her outfit for the Thousand Faces Party. Today it's: 'This hat? Or this hat?' Seventy thousand votes so far, and there's a hundred other feeds running commentary."

  Aya rolled her eyes. Nana was a natural-born pretty, one of the vanishingly rare people who wouldn't have needed surgery even back in the Pretty time. Which was why she was the second-most-famous person in the whole city. "That doesn't count. Nana-chan can be interesting without trying."

  He smiled. "And you can't?"

  She stared into his huge eyes, and for once they didn't tangle up her brain, as if some barrier between them had disappeared.

  Suddenly Aya knew what she really wanted to ask him.

  "What's it like, being famous?"

  Frizz shrugged. "Pretty much the same, except a lot more people joining my clique—and then leaving after a week."

  "But before Radical Honesty got so big, didn't you ever feel like something was missing? Like looking at the city and feeling invisible? Or watching the feeds and almost crying, because you know all their names and they don't know yours? Feeling like you might disappear, because no one's heard of you?"

  "Um, not really. Do you feel that way?"

  "Of course! It's like that koan they tell in littlie school. If a tree falls and nobody's watching, then it doesn't make a sound, like one hand clapping. You have to be seen before you really exist!"

  "Um, I think that's two koans, actually. And I'm not sure that's the point of either."

  "But come on, Frizz! You haven't been famous that long, you must remember how horrible it was to " Aya stammered to a halt, trying to read the look on his face. His radiant smile was gone.

  "This is an odd conversation," he said.

  Aya blinked. Ten minutes of Radical Honesty and already she'd been too honest.

  "I'm being a total extra, aren't I?" She sighed. "Just sign me up for Radical Stupidity."

  He laughed. "You're not stupid, Aya. And you're not invisible to me."

  She tried to smile. "Just mysterious?"

  "Well, not so much anymore. Verging on obvious."

  "Obvious?"

  "You know, about fame, and the way it makes you feel."

  Aya swallowed.

  Obvious.

  That's what she was, in his radically honest opinion. Way too late, she remembered another thing they taught in littlie school: Complaining about your face rank to other extras was okay, but you didn't talk this way in front of anyone famous.

  She turned away, staring out at the soccer fields, knowing that if she looked into Frizz's eyes again she'd say something else stupid. Or he'd blurt out more about what he was thinking, which would probably be worse. Maybe the feeds were right about differences in ambition, that big faces and extras should never get too close. There was too much opportunity for embarrassment.

  The mech battle was over, and lifter drones were carting off the last few warbodies. Littlies were lining up in front of Akira Hall for their next activity.

  "Oh, crap," she said. "What time is it?"

  "Almost noon."

  "I have to go!" She jumped up. "Littlie-watching duty. I'd skip it, but " í need the merits, she thought.

  Frizz still sat cross-legged on the hoverboard, his face clouded. "It's okay. You shouldn't break promises."

  Aya bowed good-bye, wondering if this time he was glad to see her running away. She tried to think of something to say, but it all sounded too embarrassing in her head.

  So she called for Moggle and dashed toward the dorm, hoping she wasn't late.

  Initiation

  Something was pinging Aya emerged from a deep and sticky sleep, fighting dizzy-making waves of exhaustion. A noise was poking at her ears again and again, demanding her attention.

  Even with her eyes closed, she could see a wake-up signal flashing in her eyescreen. It was blinking and making an earsplitting sound, warning her that it was almost midnight.

  Aya squeezed a fist to silence the alarm, groaning. She'd meant to nap this afternoon, but thanks to her brain-damaging conversation with Frizz, the littlie-watching shift, and an hour spent spraying Moggle with black camo paint, she hadn't crawled into bed till ten.

  Less than two hours' sleep.

  But she forced herself to sit up, remembering how famous tonight could make her. For a reminder, she glanced at her pathetic face rank of 451,611 in the corner of her vision.

  Moggle rose from the floor, and the hovercam's point of view delicately overlaid her vision, a ghostly second sight perfectly balanced with her own.

  Aya smiled. She wouldn't miss any eye-kicking shots tonight.

  "Ready to go?" she whispered.

  Moggle flashed its lights, and Aya winced. Thirty-six hours underwater hadn't cured the hovercam's bad habits.

  She felt her way to the window, blinking away spots, and climbed onto the sill. Her eyes adjusted slowly, until the city lights made her t
hroat tighten—the usual obscurity-panic, much worse now that she'd embarrassed herself in front of Frizz. All she'd meant to say was he didn't have to worry, because she was going to be famous too. But she'd wound up sounding as face-missing as a new ugly with her first feed.

  Obvious, he'd said.

  It was pointless getting depressed about it, though. Fame wasn't like beauty, where you had to wait till you were sixteen, or get lucky like Nana Love and be born with it. Fame you could make yourself.

  Once this story kicked, face rank wouldn't be an issue between her and Frizz anymore. She was certain of it.

  Moggle drifted out the window, brushing against her shoulder, and Aya smiled as she wrapped her arms around the hovercam. She was glad to be headed somewhere away from the city lights.

  Someplace mysterious enough that Frizz would go back to being amazed at her, once he found out all the things she'd done.

  She pushed out herself out into the cold night air.

  "Before we get started," Jai said, "we have some business. First item is my name; someone's been talking about me where the city interface can hear."

  A few of the Sly Girls looked down sheepishly.

  Jai clicked at them with her tongue. "That's right. I woke up this morning and my face rank was almost out of the bottom thousand. That means the city's starting to track my nickname again. Time to change it."

  Aya raised an eyebrow. So that was how they kept their face ranks down, by changing nicknames—the same way Ren and Hiro concealed their obsessive hatred of the Nameless One.

  "From now on, my name is Kai. Everybody got that? Good. And now for item number two."

  Kai turned toward Aya, who felt a tingle roll down her spine.

  "Our new friend is with us again," Kai said. "Anybody got a problem with that?"

  A nervous-making silence fell, and Aya heard the distant rumble of a train on its way. On either side of her, the rails glowed a soft warning, looking hot to the touch, like the elements inside the hole in the wall after it fabricated something big. But none of the Sly Girls seemed to notice, as if the middle of the mag-lev tracks was where they always held their business meetings.

  Aya couldn't even use Moggle to keep watch for the train. The hovercam was somewhere out among the industrial buildings, stalking her, but she had its point of view turned off to keep telltale flickers from her eye.

  "Isn't she a kicker?" someone muttered.

  Kai looked at Aya, waiting for an answer.

  She cleared her throat. "I used to be. But I was never a big face. I didn't feel like kicking what Nana Love was wearing." A few of them laughed.

  "But you still go around with a hovercam?" someone else said. Her name was Pana, Aya remembered. With their generic faces, she had trouble telling the Sly Girls apart— but Pana was taller than the rest of them, nearly Eden's height.

  "I let you drop it in a lake—you all saw that. Had some pretty awesome lifters on it, too."

  "No cams tonight?" Kai said.

  Aya shook her head. She was wearing the dorm uniform from the underwater rescue, which looked as scruffy as the Girls' reject clothing. She hoped its shabbiness made the spy-cam in its top button less obvious.

  Moggle was more likely to give her away. She wasn't certain the hovercam's tiny brain understood the whole staying-hidden concept. Moggle could only track Aya's skintenna signal up to a kilometer, and it had never operated independently for hours at a time before, especially while chasing speeding mag-levs.

  The distant rumble was audible now, the train a few minutes away.

  "Aya-chan was pretty brave when we saw the freaks," Miki said. "And you all saw her surf. I trust her."

  When Miki smiled, Aya felt her first unpleasant ping of deceitfulness. When she kicked this story, Frizz would know she'd lied to them all. She wondered if he'd understand.

  "How about we hear from you, Aya-chan?" Kai asked. "Tell us why you want to be a Sly Girl."

  Aya cleared her throat, nervous under Kai's plain-Jane stare, as brain-freezing as the train's rumble growing under her feet. What did they want her to say, anyway?

  Suddenly, the words she'd said to Frizz that morning came back to her.

  "Like you said, I was a kicker. Since I was a littlie, I wanted to be famous. I didn't want to watch other people on the feeds—I wanted them watching me. Because if they didn't, I was invisible."

  A murmur went through the group, and Aya saw cold expressions everywhere. She kept talking, trying to ignore the tremors underfoot and the trickle of sweat rolling down her back.

  "Don't get me wrong. I wasn't some ego-kicker, sitting in my room with a cam pointed at myself, talking about what my cat ate for breakfast." Someone laughed at that, and Aya managed a smile. "I was trying to find stories that mattered. People who were using the mind-rain to do something really kick I mean, really interesting. That's how I found you."

  Aya was looking back at them now, meeting their stares one by one.

  "And here's what I realized: You Sly Girls don't cry when you watch the big-face parties on the feeds, just because you weren't invited. You don't stay friends with people you hate, just to bump your face rank. And even though nobody knows what you're doing out here, you don't feel invisible at all. Do you?"

  No one answered, but they were listening.

  "Fame is radically stupid, that's all. So I want to try something else."

  There was a silent, nervous-making moment and then the tension broke. A few girls clapped, only half-sarcastically and Miki was grinning, nodding slowly. Aya had somehow found the right words.

  The strange thing was, it hadn't even felt like lying.

  They didn't bother with a vote, and no one congratulated her. Kai just slapped Aya on the back and jumped onto her hoverboard, shouting, "Surf's up! Let's go find out what those freaks are hiding!"

  Then the thirteen of them were spinning into the air, rushing to reach their hiding places before the train thundered into view.

  Just like that, Aya Fuse was a Sly Girl.

  She wondered if Moggle had gotten the shot.

  Turbulence

  Catching the mag-lev was easier the second time.

  She slipped through its shock wave like a needle, as if her body had learned to roll with the bumps and shudders of the air. Once inside the calm slipstream, she was on the roof and standing before the mag-lev line began to straighten.

  The city fell behind, and as the darkness of the wild wrapped itself around the train, Aya began to realize how many sights she'd missed on her first panicked ride. Huge old trees shot past, as gnarled as some immortal crumbly Silhouetted flocks of birds rose up against the sky, scattered by the train's thundering passage. Once Aya recognized a snow monkey's scream in the roar of the wind—hardly dangerous and person-eating, but the thought of untamed animals out here sent a nervous shudder through her. Or maybe that was just the cold. Even wrapped inside two dorm jackets, a three-hundred-klick wind was shiver-making.

  The ride was all contrasts: the dead-straight mag-lev line bisecting the knotted shapes of the forest; her fierce speed under the stillness of the sky; the mountains rising at a stately pace, punctuated by the nervous-making glimmer of decapitation warnings. But Aya felt the strange contentment again, as if her own troubles were an afterthought in the vastness of the wild.

  The only worrying thing was Moggle. Even tracking her skintenna signal, the hovercam had to be falling farther behind with every minute. Ren's lifters couldn't fly more than a hundred klicks an hour—a third of the train's speed. Moggle would catch up once they jumped off, but Aya wasn't sure how long its little brain could function without her instructions. If it got confused enough, the hovercam might forget all about staying out of sight, and that would end Aya Fuse's career as a Sly Girl.

  Of course, there was nothing she could do about that now—she was stuck with deception. She wondered if that was why Frizz had come up with Radical Honesty. If you never lied, you'd never feel this trickle of dread in your stomach, the wo
rry of being unmasked.

  The mountains grew closer, until Aya could see that their black peaks were marbled with snow, like slivers of pearl glistening in the moonlight. A red flicker came from the front of the train, then a string of decapitation warnings. Aya pulled out her own flashlight and twisted it red, waving to the Girls behind her.

  She knelt to strap a crash bracelet around her ankle, then lay flat, waiting for the sudden darkness of the tunnel to swallow her.

  This time there were no unscheduled stops.

  The train shot straight through the mountain, in and out in a roaring fury that made Aya's ears pop like a quick hovercar descent. The hidden doorway must have flashed past in a fraction of a second, utterly invisible.

  She remembered from her first ride that the next bend came up quickly. Ahead of her, Miki was already crawling toward the side of the train, readying to dismount. Aya headed toward where her hoverboard was stuck.

  Getting off the train was trickier than getting on. In the city the grid was everywhere, but out here you had to stay close to the tracks. Too far out and magnetic lifters lost their grip on the metal, making boards and crash bracelets useless.

  At two hundred klicks an hour, that would be deadly.

  The train was slowing, a hum filling the air as it angled into the turn. Aya pulled her right wrist free, reaching out to slap it against her hoverboard.

  The night before, she'd dismounted too cautiously, winding up much farther down the track than the rest of the Girls. This time she'd decided to be the first one to a dead stop.

  Aya tugged at her board, and it released itself from the train, slowly turning from sideways to level. It fought the wind, steadying as the mag-lev slowed into the bend, and she slid Tier weight across onto the riding surface.

  As the humming reached its crescendo, Aya angled gently away from the train, staying within arm's reach, inside the bubble of relative calm that flowed around it. Two meters out was the deadly shock wave zone.