“So I hear you’ve met my daughter.”
Rage built through my code until I was an anthill overflowing with tiny red sparks, one swarming over the other. They spilled onto the floor around me and disappeared. I wanted to scream.
I didn’t. I breathed deeply once, twice, then looked up.
Emory Specter blinked at me from his chair. As if my day couldn’t get any weirder. Or more messed up. First the government disappeared me from my sad little apartment after abandoning me there for, like, forever, and now I was sitting in a room with the Defense Minister. Though to call it a room was an understatement. It was more of a grand hall. And Emory Specter’s chair was more of a throne, while I was sitting on a pathetic little rickety thing that might break at any moment. The man couldn’t be more transparent. He needed to install himself like a king, when he practically already was a king, and prove this to me by emphasizing my insignificance down to the chair where I sat.
Maybe he was really insecure?
I studied the man. An Antianxiety App would be seriously helpful at the moment. “I don’t know, have I met your daughter?” I kept my eyes steady on Emory. Or should I call him Mr. Specter? Defense Minister Specter? E. S. for short?
I nearly laughed.
Maybe he had Naples complex. No. Napoleon! A Napoleon complex! He was a lot shorter in person than on Reel Time and official broadcasts. Maybe his basic self was faulty, a little glitch in ways that only an App can fix. He always seemed taller and thinner when I’d seen him, but maybe he made himself taller when he appeared to the public for announcements, like the one about the Race for the Cure being won at that ginormous funeral. And when he granted the City a day of free Apping for everyone who refused to unplug after Skylar Cruz made her emergency broadcast about that stupid Body Market. The government sure did love giving out free downloads in exchange for our cooperation, now that I thought about it.
Emory was studying me. He hadn’t blinked once since I’d arrived. It made it seem like he had fish eyes.
What a ridiculous man!
He frowned. “What’s so amusing?”
Oops. Had I actually laughed out loud? Or had he taken some Superpower App that allowed him to read my thoughts? I shivered. That was a chilling idea. “Nothing is funny. You were saying I’d met your daughter and I was asking you if I had. Because, really”—I started counting the months I’d been sequestered, as Mrs. Farley put it, on my sad, pale little fingers—“I couldn’t have, at least not recently. Unless maybe your daughter went to my High School 4.0?”
He tented his hands and adjusted himself on his throne with a little butt wiggle. “I didn’t think you were that dense.”
“I’m not.”
“Sure,” he said, not at all sounding convinced. He didn’t seem about to give any hints who his daughter was either. He sighed and smiled. “Let’s see . . . Ree . . . that’s your name, right?” Before I could respond that yes, it was, he called up some sort of document and it appeared in his hands. He ran his fingers across it as it flashed, pages turning. “Ree Aristocrat.” He burst into laughter himself. “I’m so sorry, darling. What a last name! Your mother was that transparent when she plugged in that she chose Aristocrat as her family name? As if that could turn you into nobility!” His laughter slowed and died. “The nouveau riche will always be lower class. Let’s see . . . what else . . .” He scanned his finger some more. “Your grandfather made his money trading in black-market Real World goods, and then there was a mass exodus to virtual living by your relatives.” He chuckled and clutched at his stomach. “I figured you must come from an ugly criminal element to have a last name like Aristocrat.”
I crossed my arms, and the chair creaked in protest. “Are you done mocking me?”
“That depends,” he dropped.
I was getting tired of his stupid game. “On what?”
“On what you can tell me about my daughter and why she’s here. She’s always mucking about in my affairs and I think it’s time she and I had a heart-to-heart. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t give a flying App about your relationship with your daughter and whether the two of you make nice. I just want out of here.” My shoulders slumped a little. “Am I really expected to guess who she is?” I was starting to sound like a brat, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to think I felt all whatever about being in his highness’s presence, even though truly, I wanted to run away screaming. Meanwhile my App-free brain tried its best to function without any downloads and go over every girl I’d ever met to try and come up with a candidate.
Emory’s knees twitched. Every other part of his body seemed to twitch, too, as though the energy running through his code spilled over into the atmosphere, generating heat and electricity around him. “I suppose if I must, I’ll tell you,” he said. “Though the answer is right in front of you. You just saw her.” He leaned forward. “Today.”
“Whoa,” I said slowly, drawing out the one syllable. “No way. She’s your daughter?”
He smiled. “Yes way, Ms. Ree.”
“Skylar Cruz?”
He nodded and the smile faded.
I began to laugh. Hard. So hard I was clutching my virtual stomach and tears poured down my face until a little river of them was spilling onto the smooth marble floor like that amazing waterfall cake from earlier this afternoon.
Emory’s face turned angry. “Now what’s so funny?”
This time, I didn’t dodge his question. “Your daughter is the same girl who also happens to be your nemesis? That’s so perfect.” I couldn’t stop giggling. “Really. It’s amazing. I like her better already!”
Emory rose from his throne. “You can laugh now, but you won’t be laughing for long.”
I shrank a little, regretting this admission. “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I . . . I . . .”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry, Ms. Ree. I’m not going to do anything to hurt your boring, basic little head.” His tone was serious. Scary serious. Deadly sounding. “You, my dear, are very important now. It’s time Skylar and I took the time to get to know each other, and you are going to prove very useful as bait.”
17
Skylar
holes
“IT DOESN’T MAKE any sense that you want to go see Jonathan Holt,” Adam was saying. “He’s not even—”
“—we’re not going to see Rain’s father,” I snapped back. As we hurried through the City, I realized I was angry at Adam. Glad he was all right, but frustrated he’d stayed away from Parvda so long and made her miserable. And dismayed I’d found him in the App World at the apartment of some girl, regardless of his claims that he was just trying to help.
Adam took two long strides and parked himself in front of me. Even in the App World, he was tall. “Then where are we going?”
We were smack in the middle of Main Park. I stared up into the now-familiar eyes of my friend. “We’re headed to Loner Town.”
“I hate that place,” Adam said.
I shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s the worst.”
“You get used to it.”
“Why there?”
I peered up at him. “To access the stash of emergency capital at Trader’s house. And his . . . App Store.” I left out the part about how it was a Black Market App Store.
Adam let out a long breath and stepped aside. The two of us resumed walking. Main Park was buzzing with the usual activity of the City at two o’clock on a Friday. Most Under Eighteens were still in school, but there were always those who skipped out early. There were the rich kids on one set of benches, dressed in the blazers and skirts and pants that boasted their prep academies. The girls and boys were beautiful like models because, of course, they’d either each downloaded one of the Model Apps or had permanent enhancements threaded into their codes. Then there was a bunch of Over Eighteens playing World Cup Soccer. It looked like Argentina versus Spain from their jerseys. There was the regular assortment of others who were floating or
flying above the trees or climbing through them, a collection of kids Goth Apping over in a shady, secluded corner, and parents taking their ones and twos for a walk on yet another of the App World’s perpetually nice days. Snow and rain and wind and thunder only happened if you downloaded it.
Adam kept eyeing me. We crossed through the gates on the far side of the park and left it behind, heading into the seedier part of town. He finally spoke. “You’re mad at me.”
I looked left, then right, noting that the neighborhood had changed since I’d last visited. It was more . . . populated. A bit more fixed up. Someone had finally done some updates on the architecture. “Yes, I am,” I told him. “Parvda misses you. Terribly.” Adam huffed. I shot him a glare. “And I don’t even know why you two fought or why you plugged in and abandoned her. Abandoned all of us. It was dangerous to come here, you know this, and yet you did it.”
His huffing turned to scoffing. “She seriously didn’t tell you?”
“She’s been sobbing too hard to get any words out.” We rounded the corner and the landscape became vastly different. The buildings and street and sidewalks were deteriorating. They seemed to crumble before our eyes, bits of virtual concrete tumbling to the ground, leaving behind gaping holes. The sun was an even paler yellow and the air turned chillier, as though the neighborhood was being punished by the City, left out of the eternal nice weather and light of the rest of the App World.
I glanced back, to the part that had been fixed up.
It was almost as if someone had fixed that part up for show. The buildings that ringed Main Park were the most traveled, and few people crossed into this part of town. But this part of town was worse than I’d ever seen it.
Adam kicked a jagged chunk of brick lying in the middle of the sidewalk and it went bumping down the street. “Parvda’s been crying?”
I stepped around a giant pothole. “Yes, she’s been crying. She hasn’t stopped since you plugged in.” The farther we got from Main Park, the darker the sky became. Thin red and purple lines pierced it in places. “What happened with you two?”
Adam kept his eyes on the ground. We walked in silence for a block, and passed what once must have been a tall apartment building that was now a pile of virtual rubble. Neither of us commented on this. “You have to promise not to tell anyone. Absolutely no one, Skylar. Not Rain, not your creepy brother. No-bod-y.”
I halted and Adam stopped. When he looked up at me his cheeks were burning. I’d never seen him like this. Sympathy mixed with worry carried away my anger. I touched his arm. “I won’t. I promise. You know you can trust me.”
His eyes found the sky as he spoke. “I asked Parvda to marry me.”
My eyes lit up. “What?!”
“You heard me,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
“That’s not what I was expecting.” Parvda hadn’t mentioned a single word about a proposal. “That’s so sweet!”
Adam’s face stormed. “No it’s not.”
“Yes it is!”
“She rejected me. She said no. That’s why we fought and that’s why I left.”
“Oh, Adam, you poor thing!” I reached around his tall frame and squeezed as tight as I could. “I’m so sorry.”
He sighed and patted my back. “Not as sorry as I am.”
I pulled away and looked up into his stricken face. “Did she say why?”
The color in his cheeks deepened. “She said we were too young. I told her I didn’t care and that I’d still love her years from now, so we might as well make things official.”
“You are a little young,” I observed. Adam immediately heaved a big breath to start a protest, but I got there first. “But I’m not criticizing! I just wonder if Parvda . . .”
“You wonder what?” he asked, eager. Hopeful.
I bit my lip. The two of us started walking again. “I wonder if Parvda regrets saying no. She’s truly inconsolable. You shouldn’t have left like that. Shifted without saying a word to anyone.”
“Parvda knows where I am.” Adam’s voice was bitter.
I smacked him on the arm. “And she’s suffering in the Real World because you left. The whole time she’s been hoping you’d come back. And here you are, virtually moping around.”
Adam bowed his head. “You’re right about the moping. That’s why I was at that party. It wasn’t because I was trying to meet someone new. I just haven’t known what to do with myself without Parvda. For some reason, I downloaded that stupid Gaming App and ended up meeting Ree. I only agreed to help her because, well, she seemed so desperate, and also, it would give me something to do.” He glanced at me. “Why do you think we’re the only people who can see her?”
“I was wondering about that,” I said. “Maybe it’s because we didn’t plug in the normal way. The reason I shifted was because I hoped I could cross the border without the patrols realizing I was here.”
“Interesting theory.”
I shrugged. “It’s the only one I can come up with. After all, you got through undetected—at least it seems that way. Though I am worried that going to Ree’s was a mistake on both our parts. If we weren’t detected before, I bet people know now.”
The sign for Loner Town appeared ahead, flickering in and out of the atmosphere. “I didn’t realize Ree was involved with some sort of government cover-up,” Adam said. The two of us stopped and stared at the buzzing letters. “Is it just me or is that . . . disappearing?” he asked.
I took a step closer. From this angle, I could see through the words to the crumbling street and building behind it. “I think it is disappearing. First the Death App and now this.”
The two of us took in our surroundings. It was as if, I don’t know, the code of the City was off. Like, the code itself might be deteriorating. There was no one—absolutely no one in sight. Nobody sitting on a bench or on the sidewalk or even on a front stoop in an App stupor. Loner Town seemed totally deserted.
“What in both worlds is happening?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know. That’s why we’re headed to Trader’s house. To try and find out.”
Adam shivered with disgust. “I never wanted to see that place again.”
We continued, stepping carefully to avoid falling into one of the giant potholes or tripping over the broken bricks and rocks lying everywhere. “But Trader has certain . . . methods for accessing information that might hold answers. That’s why I shifted—to see what I could learn about what’s going on in the App World. Well, and to see if I could find you and make sure you’re okay.” I eyed him as we walked. “I didn’t intend to end up at Ree’s place, and I had no idea I’d run into you there. That was a fortunate accident. But it’s good I ended up at Ree’s, and not only because of you.” Part of the street had caved in and Adam and I had to cross to the other sidewalk to get around it. “There are some terrible things happening with the bodies in the Real World and I think the Death App might have something to do with it. I’m worried the mass exodus we set off with the Shifting App last February might have done something to the fabric of the App World. I wonder—” I stopped midsentence.
I’d been wrong before.
Loner Town wasn’t deserted.
There was a man just down the block.
He was taking in the wares of his App Store, but he hardly had anything to choose from. Among the few he did have were three shockingly brilliant icons—one black, one coal gray, and the other a sparkling silver. All of them in the shape of presents. Even in the weak light from the sky above us, which was scattered with looming clouds, the Apps were like little suns, beckoning.
“Are those . . . ,” Adam started.
“. . . Death Apps?” I finished.
We hurried forward.
The man looked from the coal-gray icon to the dazzling black one.
“Don’t touch that!” Adam shouted.
But the man had already gone for the shiny silver, his hand closing around it tightly.
We were too late.
&nb
sp; The two of us ran to him.
At first nothing seemed to happen and I wondered if we were wrong about those icons. Or even if Ree had been lying, making up stories about witnessing virtual deaths because she was bored. But as we got closer the man collapsed to the sidewalk and began to groan.
He clutched at his stomach.
His virtual skin started to sizzle, just like Ree had described, and then it grew molten like the liquidy silver of the App itself. It seemed to slide off him.
That’s when he began to scream.
Adam halted. “Holy—”
“—I know.”
The two of us stood over the man, watching helplessly as he began to disappear.
There was a gaping hole where his stomach once was, and it spread across his body, opening out into his chest and down his legs, all the way up to his neck until only his face was left, racked with pain. His bulging eyes stared up at us until they were gone, too.
Until all that was left of him was virtual dust on the broken sidewalk.
“That was horrible,” Adam croaked.
“One of the worst things I’ve ever seen.” I clutched my nauseous stomach. “So Ree wasn’t lying.”
“I guess not.”
The two of us moved on in silence. Gingerly, we stepped over the man’s remains and continued down the block. Before, I’d been disturbed not to see anyone, but now I was grateful. I didn’t want to witness anything like that ever again.
In the quiet, my mind raced.
Was this why Loner Town was so deserted? Could it be that people hadn’t left of their own volition, but instead were victims of the Death App? Were things suddenly worse or had they been this bad for a long time? Adam and I were nearing Trader’s house, but three blocks away from it we had to contend with another shock, one that might’ve caused the end of my own virtual existence if Adam hadn’t grabbed my shirt and pulled me back.
“Skylar!” he yelped, yanking hard.
I was so lost in thought I didn’t even see what made him grab me.
The two of us stood at the edge of a gaping hole in the atmosphere, an entire block of houses and buildings gobbled up by it. We stared down into it.
The Mind Virus Page 12
