Crashed (17 page)

"Fine," he said. "Here's the deal. While you were . . . sleeping, Savona and his Brotherhood ramped it up. It's not just these ridiculous rallies. They're bussing people in from the cities, feeding them, giving them free med-tech, and sending them home with plenty of antimech crap to spread around to their friends."

"That's the part I don't get," I said. "Why would anyone in a city want to team up with
Savona
? He's got everything, and they're--"

"Nothing?" Jude asked dryly.

For a long time, I'd believed my father when he said that the people who lived in cities deserved to be there--maybe even
wanted
to be there, because they couldn't hack the rules of the real world. I'd thought Auden was crazy, going off on all the ways that the government and the corps treated the slum-mers like nonpeople. "I'm just saying that they should know what it's like. To be told you don't count."

"They do," Riley said quietly. "That's the problem."

"Auden's smart," Jude added. "He's going to the cities, the corp-towns, showing them all the ways their lives suck. They aren't allowed to hate the people who put them there. But they can hate us. Average city lifespan is thirty-seven years. We live forever. You do the math."

I didn't have to. I'd seen the look on Sari's face when she saw Riley and me standing together. Heard the catch in her voice when she'd asked what it was like knowing I'd never grow old. Everything else about her might have been part of the show, but that was real. And they'd all looked at us that way. It wasn't like in the corp-town, all those people staring at us, curious or disgusted or afraid. In the city, there'd been all those things, but there'd also been something else. "They really hate us."

"Why not? Why should they die and we get to live?" Riley asked. But he wasn't looking at me--he'd turned to Jude, like he honestly wanted an answer.

Jude quieted him with a nearly imperceptible shake of the head. "Your boyfriend's smart," he said, returning his attention to me. "He feeds the idiot masses all this Faither bullshit about our immortal souls or lack thereof. But he's working both ends--drowning the network in op-vids and pop-ups about how we're a security risk."

"Because of the corp-town attack," I mumbled, feeling guilty, even though there was nothing to feel guilty about. "But they arrested her."

"It's not just Ariana whatever her name is," Jude said. "It's the fact that she was able to get into the ventilation ducts--no fingerprints, no biometrics. Someone finally woke up to the fact that mechs can be anyone, do anything. Savona's riding it as far as he can. The Faithers--or whatever they're calling themselves now--may be crazy. But Savona's not. He's good."

But Savona
was
crazy. Crazy enough to do . . . anything? "You don't think-- Could the Brotherhood have had something to do with the attack?"

"Someone deserves a gold star," Jude said with a sneer. "You're a little late to the party, but better late than never, I suppose."

Auden would never be a part of something like that,
I thought.

But maybe he didn't know.

"So what are we doing about it?" I asked.

Jude raised an eyebrow. "
We
?"

I ignored him. "If they're involved, there must be some kind of proof. We should--"

"Start sniffing around?" Jude suggested. "Attend some rallies? Maybe get someone on the inside to find out what's really going on?" He clapped his hands together with a sharp crack. "Brilliant idea. Too bad you were busy napping, or it could have been you."

"So you sent
Ani
? By
herself
?" I asked. Unbelievable.

"She can handle it," Jude said. "Wears a camo hoodie that hides her face. They have no idea what she really is."

"You didn't think to ask me?" I said. "I'm the one who knows Auden. How much more inside track can you get?"

"You haven't quite been available," Jude pointed out.

"You could have--"

"And even if you
were,
" he said over me, "you're not objective. You're obviously in denial about your twisted friend."

"And
you're
objective? You've hated him from the beginning. You're probably thrilled to finally have a good reason."

"But you admit I have a good reason," he snapped. "That's the point."

"The point is Ani shouldn't be doing something like this by herself. Next time I'm going with her."

"Well, isn't she lucky to have such a noble protector," Jude drawled, like he knew exactly why I was so determined to go to the Temple, and that it had nothing to do with Ani.

For once I almost wished he'd give me one of his tedious lectures about what was really going on inside my head, because I had no idea. I believed what I'd said about Ani: This wasn't the kind of thing she could handle on her own. After seeing those vids, I wasn't sure any of us could. But she was a big girl, and I didn't owe her anything. So what was it, then? Was I just so desperate to see Auden and--what? Prove that he didn't really hate me? Convince him that we could go back to the way things were?

Could I be that delusional?

"Someone set me up at that corp-town," I said, keeping my eyes on Jude, watching--always watching--for some kind of tell-tale reaction. But there was nothing. "If it was the Brotherhood, I have to know. I'm not going to let Ani do all the hard work."

And maybe that was it: the idea of
doing
something. Anything. Even if it meant facing what Auden had become; what I made him. If he and his Brothers wanted to take everything-- my credit, my identity, my personhood--away from me, let them try. But this time, they'd have to do it to my face.

"It's not a good idea," Riley said.

Like it was his decision. "Don't think I can handle it?"

"Can you?" Jude asked.

"I guess we'll find out." I glared at both of them, daring them to try to forbid me.

Instead, Jude raised his hands over his head, imitating Auden's motion of victory. "We will!" he shouted in a raspy voice, sounding eerily like Auden. "You will!"

I would.

The Brotherhood of Man held a rally every Sunday.

"I still don't see why you have to go." Ani pulled a camo hoodie over her head. She tossed a second one to me.

"Maybe I'm curious," I said, checking myself out in Ani's mirror. This was less a fashion don't than a burn-before-wearing situation. Sensors in the hoodie detected ambient color and reflected it, allowing the wearer to fade into any background, an imperfect invisibility. The thick, baggy hood cast enough of a shadow over my face that I could have been any age, any gender, I could have been some gap-toothed, pockmarked med-head from the city. I could have been alive.

The camo tech had been a military innovation before we were born, had filtered into the fashion zone when we were kids, and had quickly drifted into obscurity when it became obvious that fading away defeated the point of style. Now they were cheap novelties, just the kind of thing a tech-deprived city rat might rescue from the trash with a scavenger's glee. We'd fit right in.

Ani strung a thin silver pendant around her neck and fumbled with the chain. Then she held the necklace out to me. "Can you?"

A glowing orb of blue lazulate dangled from the silver chain, a perfect match to the silver blue streaks that trickled down her neck and spine. I'd seen this kind of stone before-- Bliss Tanzen had had one that she loved showing off, at least until it became clear she'd lied about receiving it from a dashing young heir to the SunFire fortune. It turned out that after a shocker-fueled all-night encounter, the solar energy baron had blocked her from his zone; the necklace came from Daddy. But I knew from Bliss's incessant boasting before her secret emerged and the necklace got recycled that something like this was worth almost as much as a car. A small, cheap car with a submoronic nav-system that restricted it to preprogrammed routes and major highways, but a car nonetheless. Lazulate was almost as rare as it was useless, which meant its harmless radioactive glow had become a totem of wealth. "Pretty," I said, fastening the chain at the nape of her neck. "New?"

Ani closed her hand around the pendant. "Quinn gave it to me."

"Quinn
Sharpe
?"

She glared at me. "Surprised? What, that she'd bother? Or that she'd bother for me?"

"No, that's not what I meant," I said quickly. "I just-- Quinn doesn't seem like the type to--"

Ani burst into laughter. "Joking." She brushed her thumb across the glowing face of the lazulate. "You're right, I guess. But Quinn's changing."

"People do that?" I asked, only half kidding.

"These last few weeks . . ." Ani shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe she's just getting tired of all the . . ."

Screwing everything that moved?
"Experimenting," I suggested, experimenting myself with a little tact.

"Right."

"Or maybe she finally figured out who she wanted to be with," I said. Not sure whether I believed it.

"Maybe," Ani said, sounding like she wasn't convinced either. "But I think it's more than that. She never really had a chance to
be
anybody before, you know? She was living on the network--it wasn't real. So after the download, it was like she had to start all over again. Figure herself out. Maybe she's finally doing it." She gave her wrist two sharp taps, and the glowing green numerals of a skintimer appeared. "We should go, or we'll be late," she said. "You sure about this? Seeing Auden like that, it could be--"

"Who knows if we'll even get there," I said with as much nonchalance as I could dredge up. "Could get stopped a mile from the house." The penalty for driving without a human in the car was just a fee, for now, along with confiscation of the vehicle. But our funds were limited. Thanks to some creative accounting, we still had access to plenty of credit under a variety of fronts and assumed names, but the bulk of it had been seized--losing a car was a less than desirable eventuality. And I'd had enough of the secops for one lifetime.

"We'll be fine," Ani said. "They're not enforcing the restrictions. It's just a scare tactic."

"Then let's go," I told her. "Find out if there's anything to be scared about."

Find out what's going on with Auden,
I thought.

If he means everything he says about us.

About me.

No, nothing to be scared of at all.

The Temple of Man wasn't a building. It was hundreds of acres of buildings, sprawling, flat concrete blocks spiderwebbed together by tunnels and skyways. Within a mile of the Temple, the countryside gave way to an unbroken stretch of asphalt in every direction. No trees, no grass, no relief from the gray cement, the same color as the dingy sky. Only one structure violated the horizontal skyline, a narrow white tower shooting three hundred feet into the air, widening at the top for a story-high globe of windows. It reminded me of the pics I'd seen of the Middle East, after the war started but before the bombs dropped, ending the war and all the warriors in a flash of atomic fire. In the pics, tall spires had jutted from domed temples, strange, ornate lighthouses dotting the horizon, and as a kid I'd often imagined the bored but devoted keepers who might have lived up there in the sky, tending to their god. I wondered if they'd been the first to see the bombs, fire streaking through the night, and whether they'd had time to wonder or panic--or jump--before the sky exploded.

"It's where they used to track the planes taking off," Ani said, following my gaze.

"Seriously?" Maybe it was a good thing the energy crisis had destroyed the airline industry. A million planes flying around and the only thing keeping them from crashing into one another was a few guys looking out the window? "How many you think used to fly in and out of here a day?"

Ani shrugged, taking in the miles of paved runway stretching to the horizon. "Twenty?" she guessed. "Maybe thirty?"

It was impossible to imagine. Sure, once they'd figured out how to build hybrid biofuel planes, they'd gotten them back in the air, but most were corp-owned cargo flights. If you had enough credit, you could always track down a plane to get you where you needed to go. But if you were unlucky enough to count as "most people"--and most people were--cost and restrictions forced you to go by ground. Or stay home. Just as there weren't enough roads to go around, it had turned out there wasn't enough sky. Which meant the majority gave up their wings so a minority could fly.

"Not much of a temple," I said as we headed toward one of the largest of the concrete block buildings, falling into step with a bedraggled crowd. I kept my head down and my voice low. "I thought these things were supposed to look like fairy tale castles or something. High ceilings, stained glass.
Pretty
."

"The old ones did," Ani said. "And some of the Faither ones still do. But Rai Savona's not a Faither anymore, remember? Now he says that all those churches and stuff are bad for you, that they make you feel small and unworthy. He likes this building because it's low and unimpressive. The most impressive part of any temple should be the humans inside it, he says.
We're
sacred, he says. Because God dwells inside of us."

"Them," I said.

"What?"

"You said 'us.' But God doesn't dwell in mechs, not according to Savona. Right?"

Ani ducked her head. "Right. Them. Anyway, that's what he says."

"And people actually buy that?" Thinking,
Sounds almost like
you
buy it.

She shrugged. "Faithers are used to it. Most of them just meet where they can. Basements, cafeterias. Dead buildings are good--libraries, those old vid theaters. And in the cities, they're lucky if they can squat in one of the tower rooms for a few months, before--" She finally noticed how I was looking at her. "What?"

"You know a lot about this," I said. "Faithers."

Ani looked away, pinning her eyes back on the tower. "There are a lot of them in the city. Especially in the Crap-hole." She rarely talked about it, the place she'd grown up, a dumping ground for children whose parents couldn't be found or, like Ani's, couldn't be bothered. I'd never heard her refer to it as anything but the Craphole. "The government made sure we didn't starve," she said. "But that was it. The Faithers were the only ones who remembered we were alive. They showed up every once in a while with clothes, sometimes even med-tech." She shrugged. "I don't know, I guess they thought God told them to do it or something. Crazies."