by Alex London
He didn’t hesitate. He took a swing at Sydney, but he was still sloppy from Chey’s patch, and he swung wide. Sydney grabbed his arm as it flew past and twisted it around his back and pressed the plastic tube against Knox’s ribs again.
“Come on,” he said, and they were moving through the crowd.
The music was thumping and the dancers in heavy boots jumped up and down on the cars. The sound of crunching metal ripped right through Knox and he felt himself going backward in his mind, going back to the accident. He saw Marie next to him in the car, laughing with delight, then screaming. He felt his body fly through the air.
The next thing Knox knew he and Sydney were standing outside, off to the side of the building. Sydney pulled him behind a large generator in the alley.
“The generator will hide our signal from drones,” Sydney said. Knox just looked at him. He was insane.
“My father wouldn’t have sent drones looking for me,” Knox said.
“What?” Sydney snapped. “Your father? What are you talking about? The drones are looking for me. And it’s your fault.”
Knox didn’t answer. He had to remember his training. Every SecuriTech executive’s family received training about what to do in a kidnapping. His instructor was some meathead from the special forces of the Benevolent Society. He told them horror stories about his years on the East Coast running rescue operations. He told them about all the violent groups that wanted to see them and their way of life destroyed: foreign competitors, unlicensed scavengers, Sinoid crime syndicates, Rebooters and flesh peddlers, fanatic pastoralists and old-fashioned warlords.
Knox remembered being bored. At the end they’d taken a quiz. Knox hadn’t passed and his father refused to speak to him for days.
When Knox objected to the silent treatment, his father told him, “It’ll be a lot worse when you’re in captivity in some swampy bog, riding out hurricanes and being sold back to me in pieces.”
He’d made Knox retake the class with a private security tutor. She was gorgeous. He remembered that much. Natural redhead. Retired combat operations consultant for one of the big software companies. He remembered the curve of her neck, the small piece of her ear that was missing from a firefight with one of the IP piracy gangs. The way she let him flirt and then twisted his neck with one hand when he tried to kiss her. He was thirteen and it was the first time an adult had ever inflicted any pain on him.
He screamed out, begged her to stop. She ignored him. She kept twisting.
“No proxy here for you now,” she said. “It’s just you and me.”
And then he’d remembered her first rule: Make yourself human to your abductor. Tell them about yourself. Become real. Through his tears, he told the instructor how his mother died, how it was his fault. She was the only person he’d ever told.
The instructor let his neck go.
“It’s the debts you can’t repay that matter,” she said. Knox stormed out of the room crying and the instructor never said a word to his father. He passed the course.
He had to make himself human to this boy, Sydney. It was his only chance.
“Listen, Sydney,” he said.
“Just Syd,” the kid growled.
“What?”
“Just Syd,” he repeated. “Not Sydney.”
“Oh . . . right, Syd. Well, listen, Syd, I’m sorry about . . .” He couldn’t think what. It wasn’t like he owned Syd’s debt. That was his father. “Everything,” he said, which he figured was broad enough. You could never repay “everything,” right?
“Don’t read anything into that kiss back there,” Syd said. “I don’t like you and I don’t want to know you. I don’t care what you think about anything or what you’re sorry for. The only thing you can do for me now is help me get out of this city. Egan and your friend told me you can do that. Can you do that?”
“I . . .” Knox stumbled. “You don’t want to, like, torture me?”
Syd stared at him, breathing loudly through his nose. “You have no idea how much I want to,” he said after a minute. Knox swallowed hard. “But that’s not gonna happen. I just want to get away from all this and I can’t do it without your help. You owe me that.”
“I owe you?” Knox couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The debt was Syd’s, not Knox’s. Knox didn’t have any debt. He was a patron. He had more money than he could spend in a lifetime.
“Yes,” said Syd.
“I don’t owe you anything,” Knox answered. “Get that? Nothing. You’re just the one with the weapon.”
Syd clenched his jaw. “Then I guess you owe me obedience, right? I mean, if I’ve got the weapon?”
Knox seethed quietly, but he nodded. “How did you even find me?”
“I didn’t,” said Syd. He didn’t elaborate and he didn’t explain. Knox was suspicious. As the patch’s effects throbbed their way out of his system, he started to think more clearly.
He and Nine had been selling fake biofeed patches for a while now. Nine knew all kinds of sleazy characters and Knox knew how to hack his father’s company’s system to make the IDs.
What if SecuriTech was on to it and they’d given Syd a choice: You can go to Sterling Work Colony for sixteen years or you can help us plug a security leak? Oh, and by the way you’ll also get revenge for everything your patron has put you through.
Knox knew what he would do in that situation. It wasn’t a choice at all.
The only question was whether or not his father knew what was going on. And his father always knew what was going on. He must have sent Syd after Knox the moment he heard that Knox had left the hospital.
The whole thing had to be a setup. It had to be. Or were the drugs just making him paranoid?
No matter what, Knox knew now that he couldn’t trust a word this Syd kid said. He had to get away as soon as possible.
[16]
SYD HAD IMAGINED MEETING his patron so many times over the years in so many different ways. He’d imagined beating him senseless with his fists; he’d imagined hitting him with the EMD at the highest settings; he’d imagined his patron begging for forgiveness and he’d imagined all the things he’d say to this person who’d made his life a living hell since he was four years old.
None of his fantasies went like this.
He’d also imagined his first kiss. He’d imagined it thousands of times, maybe millions, with Atticus Finch, with that one security guard trainee at the dispensary, with some imagined patron who appeared in the shop one day needing an emergency repair on his CX-30 who would sweep Syd away to Upper City to live in love and light and luxury. He’d even thought about a kiss with Egan, though he’d never admit it to his best friend’s face.
None of those fantasies went like this either.
He was squatting behind a greasy generator, dressed like some sort of zonked-out club kid, while drones prowled the sky. The Guardians would be here any second. He gripped Knox’s arm to keep him down, squeezing it tighter than he probably needed to, and he was holding an antique pen against his patron’s rib cage. He was in deep breach of contract now.
Attacking your patron? What happened to the butcher Doolaine would seem like a kindness in comparison to what they’d do to him.
Knox shifted his weight, like he was about to run. His eyes darting around the alley looking for the best escape route. He was probably paranoid from whatever drug he was on. Syd had seen it a million times with Egan. If things got weird, the drug made them weirder. If things got scary, the drug made them scarier. Tonight qualified as both weird and scary, and Knox was probably losing it.
Knox would be useless to Syd if he freaked out again, spinning in circles and muttering, and if he tried to run, Syd couldn’t stop him out in the open without the drones or the Guardians seeing him. In truth, he had no idea how he was going to get out of here without Knox cooperating.
He had to convince this guy that he was telling the truth, he hadn’t come looking for him. He had to make Knox want to help.
&nbs
p; “I didn’t mean to find you,” Syd explained. “I was just trying to get away and I heard you could hook me up with ID. I didn’t know you would also be you . . .” He wasn’t making much sense. He was probably freaking Knox out even more. “Look, I get it; this is crazy. Impossible, even. But it’s happening.”
He pulled the pen away from Knox’s side and showed it to him, clicked a few times as Knox’s eyes went wide and then Syd put it back in his pocket. He let go of Knox’s arm.
“You kidnapped me with an antique pen?” Knox asked. The stupidity of it seemed to clear his head, focus his eyes.
Syd shrugged. “Listen: Guys like me don’t survive long in Sterling Work Colony. If you don’t help me out here, you’ll be responsible for two deaths, not just the one. I don’t know you and I don’t know if that means anything to you, but there it is.”
Knox looked at the entrance to the alley. If he was going to run, this was the moment. He looked up at the sky, scanning for drones. After a long silence, he turned back to Syd. His body slackened.
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” he said. His eyes met Syd’s. This was the moment. He opened up. “I swear it was an accident. I swear it.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Syd said. “They’re after me because of you.”
“I-I . . . ,” Knox stammered. Syd had rattled him.
Good. Syd needed to rattle him. He had to get through that arrogant, pampered shell of a patron and try to find a person underneath, someone who might care just a little that he had ruined another human being’s life. Syd stepped closer to Knox.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You can help now.”
“I just . . . ,” Knox said. Then his expression hardened, and he sprang onto Syd like heat lightning, slamming Syd against the generator and pinning him to the ground with a knee in his stomach. The hat with the D toppled off his head. Knox’s forearm was pressed across Syd’s throat and all his weight was pressing down, squeezing the air out of him.
Of course. The rich kids must learn self-defense for moments just like this, Syd thought. He’d been stupid to let his guard down.
“Who sent you?” Knox demanded, his emerald eyes flashing rage. Flecks of spittle splattered on Syd’s face. “My father? Did my father send you?”
“I . . .” It was Syd’s turn to choke out words. He couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He tried to pull Knox’s arm away, but he had no leverage, and beneath his pretty boy exterior, Knox was clearly stronger than Syd, better fed and better trained. He squirmed but couldn’t get free. “Not lying . . . ,” he croaked. He used the side of the Dumpster to edge his sleeve down his arm, revealing the shining metal branding. “Not lying,” he said again.
Knox’s eyes darted over to Marie’s name. He saw the glistening of the metal letters in the raw skin. The pressure of his arm slackened a tiny bit.
That was all Syd needed. He twisted so that Knox lost balance and then bucked with all his might to toss Knox off him. As soon as he was clear, he rolled away and jumped to his feet.
Knox was on his feet too. He charged and swung. Syd sidestepped and just missed a punch to the throat. He tried to land a kick to the groin—they don’t fight pretty in the Valve—but Knox blocked it. He’d been trained by someone who knew how to brawl, or at least, knew how Valve kids would brawl.
They circled each other.
Syd knew he couldn’t stay out here much longer, especially not standing up. He’d be found.
Knox knew he couldn’t beat this kid easily. He didn’t know how long he could keep fighting like this. He hoped Syd hadn’t noticed he was already tiring.
“Look, Knox,” Syd said, panting. “Just help me and I’ll never bother you again. I know you saw me with the Guardians today. I know that’s how this works. You’ve always seen it. And I know your father pays for it. If I hate anyone, it’s him. I would never work for him. That’s why I never cried when they punished me. I didn’t want to let your father use my tears. They belong to me. So why, after all those years that I didn’t do his work for him—punishing you—would I start doing it now?”
“Because you’re afraid,” Knox said.
“No,” Syd said, and he thought, maybe he really meant it. “That’s you. You’re afraid. I’m just angry.”
They circled each other, breathing heavily. Syd’s eyes kept darting from Knox to the warehouse door and to the alley entrance. Some of the ferocity had left Knox’s face. He didn’t let his guard down, but Syd could tell he was making progress. He just had to hold out a little longer.
“You don’t even have to trust me,” he told Knox. “Just help me get away.”
He decided to take another chance. He dropped his fists. He stood still.
Knox hesitated, flexed, and then let arms fall to his side. He didn’t take his eyes off Syd and time squeezed hours into seconds as they passed. He needed to be rid of this boy. Knox had already killed a girl. He had to deal with that. He couldn’t deal with his proxy’s issues too. But the easiest way to get rid of him would be to get him the fake ID. Syd couldn’t exactly go back to being Knox’s proxy anymore. Not after they’d met. It just wouldn’t work. The system had to be impartial.
There was an added benefit, Knox realized. Helping Syd get away would drive his father crazy.
“I’ll get you the ID,” Knox told him. “And then you’ll disappear? Never find me again.”
“Definitely.”
“And if you’re lying, I’ll kill you. No one will be able to protect you. I have the cred to end you wherever you hide.”
Syd nodded.
“All right.” Knox scratched the back of his neck as he thought. “I need a datastream to do this.”
“Where are your glasses?”
“I lost them inside.”
“You don’t carry extras?” Syd figured every rich kid had a few projectors to spare.
Knox shook his head. “At home. I can do it at my place.”
“How are we going to get there?” Syd asked. He bent down and picked up the old cap. He brushed it off and put it back on, pulling the brim down low over his face. “Even like this, I can’t exactly go strolling through the streets of the Upper City.”
Knox rummaged in his work shirt and pulled out a little patch. He tossed it to Syd.
“Just put that on, okay? It’ll trick the basic scanners for at least another hour.”
“You just carry these patches around?” Syd had his doubts. He worried that Knox was going to drug him, that he’d wake up half tweaked out of his mind in a transport to Sterling.
“Just tonight,” said Knox. “Selling them to kids at the party. Your friend was about to pay for two of those . . . and now you’re getting one at no cost.”
“Everything costs,” grunted Syd. “So if I put this on, what happens then?”
“It’ll overwrite your biofeed for a bit,” Syd said.
“I mean, after that.”
“You Valve kids have no imagination.” Knox shook his head. “There’s not much I can’t get with this smile.” He grinned. Now that there was mischief to get into, it all felt a little less overwhelming. The world started to feel familiar again. He walked toward the entrance to the alley. “Wait here, okay?”
“You’re not going to run, are you?” Syd asked.
“It’s your turn to trust me.”
“I don’t,” said Syd. “Not even a little bit.”
“Not even after our kiss?” Knox laughed. Syd didn’t. The proxy had no sense of humor. “Lighten up, swampcat.”
Syd glared at him. He was now very certain that even if Knox wasn’t his patron, he would hate him.
“You did cry, by the way,” Knox called back as he walked away.
“What?”
“That whole first year, when we were kids. You cried from day one.”
“When you broke that clay tablet.” Syd nodded. “You remember?”
“I remember.”
“That makes two of us.”
“All right.” Knox purs
ed his lips. “BRB.” He turned and left the alley.
You better be, thought Syd, as he put the patch on skin and watched it light up and dissolve. He leaned against the Dumpster, trying to focus, to see if he felt any different as his ID changed.
He didn’t feel a thing.
[17]
BRB? KNOX WONDERED IF Syd would even know what that meant. He couldn’t believe he was helping this kid. He shouldn’t even know him.
It wasn’t like he meant to kill the girl. It was an accident. Why should he have to go through all this just because of an accident? It didn’t seem fair. He never wanted anyone to get hurt. He just wanted to have some fun. He wondered: If he got Syd a new ID, would it cancel out Marie’s death? Would his balance be back to zero?
He started to feel better now that the patch was mostly out of his system and he had a sense of purpose, a goal. The right motivation. Clear his conscience and drive his father crazy.
He smirked. The CEO’s son’s proxy escaping. That would send consumer confidence into the toilet. The stock price would plummet. Ha-ha, Dad. Who’s learning their lesson now?
Knox found a group of younger girls he thought he recognized from the halls at school standing near the back of the line to get into Arcadia. There was a Guardian up by the door next to the SecuriTech GateMaster Pro X Club Model, a sleek black robot built with a keen eye for celebrity and style. Its algorithm was one of the most closely guarded secrets in the entertainment business. Of course, Knox and Nine had hacked it to get into clubs back when they were thirteen.
He stayed at a distance from the entrance and approached the girls, keeping his head turned away from the club entrance.
“Hey.” He sidled up to them. They stared at him, speechless. He had never spoken to these girls before and normally wouldn’t, which they certainly knew. He was at the top of the social order. They were not. But maybe they were gaping for another reason. He ran his hand through his hair to make sure it was okay. Finally one of them spoke. The words poured out of her.
