Page 166 of Sparktopia
The smile is fake, but warm. “Well, I see that a lesson in augmentation is in order here. As you know, we are chosen as kids and the process starts when we’re about fourteen. My brain isn’t entirely human anymore. The augments can never be removed, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Nor can they actually be turned off.”
The room is suddenly filled with murmuring.
“That’s not what your discharge spectra said.”
I meet Stayn’s gaze. “It was part of my deal. New name, pension, and official ‘off’ status. But before you guys all overreact, they don’t work. They haven’t really worked since I was like nineteen. It took a few years for it to really show, butthey don’t work, Stayn. They’re there, and sometimes they flash a little blue light, but there’s nothing happening inside my brain as far as the augments go.”
“Why should we trust you?” This comes from some guy I was introduced to, but can’t recall his name. “You could just be lying.”
“I could. But do you really think Sweep would let me out if I stillworked?”
There’s mumbling now. But they can’t deny this. There is no way in hell Sweep would discharge me if my augments were functioning.
“You have something on them,” Stayn says. “What is it?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Come on, Tyse. Don’t bullshit me. A new name, a pension, and official ‘off’ status? It’s the definition of a fresh start. You know something. Something they want you to keep quiet. But more than that, you know something so big, they can’t just kill you to keep it secret. There’s some… dead-man’s switch, or something. And ya know, what? Good for you. If you found a way to use this information to keep yourself alive, total respect for that. I don’t care. But I want to know what you know. What is it?”
They’re looking for something. Something I don’t have any actual knowledge of. Stayn is right—I did bribe my way back into civilian life—but he’s fuckin’ batshit crazy if he thinks I’d spill this secret tohim. The Sweep would pick me up so fast, my head would spin. And I’d be dead within a day. Probably less.
No one, outside of a god, maybe, will ever get that secret from me.
Still, I gotta say something or Clara and I aren’t going home tonight. So I look at the old man now. Because this is the only way the lie works. “I know about the Looking Glass. I know what it is.”
The room erupts in excitement.
But I put up a hand to hush them. “I saw it. I saw lots of things in the Outlands. I know where it is.”
“Where?” The old man’s hands are in the air, like he’s about to throttle the answer out of me. But I shoot him a cautionary look that comes with a flash of blue light, and he pulls them back.
“It’s in the Omega Outlands, of course. You don’t really think they’d let that thing inside some city, do you?”
“That’s not what we heard.” This comes from another man whose name I don’t recall. “We heard that every tower has one. And that the new god needs?—”
“That’senough, Edward!” Stayn’s roar echoes up into the high, coffered ceilings of his office, making everyone shut up at once. He stares hard at Edward, then straightens his tie and looks at me, smiling. “OK. Well, this is not proper dinner conversation. Let’s pick it up on Monday. How about nine AM?” Stayn looks around the room as they all agree. Finally, his gaze lands on me. “You good with nine AM, Tyse?”
I shrug. “I’ll be there.”
It’s the best possible ending, in my opinion. Because they have forgotten all about the Spark Maiden vibrational signature from Dimension 702, or whatever, and have refocused their attention on some Looking Glass thing I’ve never even heard of.
Everything that happens next is fake.
We smile, we clap each other on the shoulder, we joke, we dine, we drink, we make polite conversation. Clara is a perfectdinner party guest. She listens attentively, she smiles politely, and she uses all the right forks at all the right times.
But I am counting the seconds until it’s eleven-thirty because this is the earliest I figure we can escape without looking suspicious.
Janice and Stayn walk us to the door. We’re not the first to leave, so our jackets are ready, held out by the butler and a maid so we can slip our arms into them.
Janice and Clara say their goodbyes. There’s air kissing going on and lots of smiling.
Stayn leans in to me. “Monday, right? Nine AM in my office? Oh, and your woman is a keeper. You’ll bring her back, right? Janice loves her.”
“Yes, I’ll be there Monday. And of course we’ll be back. Can’t wait.”
We shake hands and then Clara and I escape into the night.
But even though we’re out, we’re far from safe. There is no way they’re not watching us. Even if they’ve forgotten about the Spark Maiden, I have some kind of critical information they need.
