Unplugged (6 page)

“I haven't agreed to this yet,” I said to her. “To any of it. Including unplugging.”

Lacy came over and sat down in the chair next to mine. She scooted closer. “Oh, come on, Skylar! We all know the three of you are going to do this. You're dying to unplug and now you have the means. Besides, think of how pleased the Prime Minister will be upon our return! We're rescuing his
son
.”

Adam scowled. “I don't care about pleasing Jonathan Holt. And I'm not coming back unless my girlfriend is coming with me.”

“Oh, how noble.” Lacy laughed. “You say that now,
but my guess is that when it comes time to get out of that place, you'll be first in line, with or without your girlfriend.”

“Can she come with me or not?” he asked.

Lacy rolled her eyes. “Sure.” She rapped her knuckles on the table, the line of bracelets along her arm clinking. “Are you all on board, or what?”

Adam nodded, a quick, curt bob of his head. Sylvia closed her eyes, everything about her still. When she opened them again, she nodded, too.

Then everyone turned in my direction.

“I don't know.” I glared at Lacy. “I don't trust you. And I couldn't care less where Rain Holt lives the rest of his days.”

Lacy studied me. Leaned closer so we were eye to eye. Her perfume was sweet, yet with a bitter scent underneath. “There are no maybes in this, Skylar. Only yes or no. Do you want to unplug or not?” she pressed. “I don't have all night.”

I hated that the government took Service away from us, and I hated that doing this would require me to trust in Lacy Mills on top of everything else, that her plan meant I'd have to prioritize Rain Holt over my own family.

But at least there would be the chance for
some
time with my family.

Some time was better than none.

Far better than never seeing them again.

I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I said finally. “My answer is yes.”

Lacy clapped her hands. “Oh goody! You Singles will be just like the Three Musketeers, but less valiant and definitely not as good-looking.” She readied herself to go. “Make sure you don't say a word to anyone. We leave on Friday! I'll be in touch again soon with the details.”

I closed my eyes.

Friday?

Friday was in three days.

When I opened them again, Lacy was gone.

IT ONLY TOOK
one day for the City to go back to normal.

By the next morning, everyone was bored with the Prime Minister's announcement. The Singles were no longer an object of fascination, our celebrity moment past. People forgot about us entirely. For me, this was a relief. Having the world's eyes on Singles wouldn't help any of us—not Adam nor Sylvia nor me—to unplug in secrecy. I was grateful to be a nobody again.

But the wreckage of our abandonment was swift and brutal for everyone else. On my way out of the building for school, the evidence of this was everywhere. The lounge was littered with Singles in various stages of shutdown. People's skin was painted different hues of blue, a
sure sign their codes had been overloaded with Apps in an extremely short period of time, after which the downloads had been slashed. The blue color was symbolic, to remind a person that a life without Apps was like suffocating, like real lungs without the air to breathe, and the hangover a reminder that we were all still attached to very real, vulnerable brains that could make us feel pain. I was about to leave the building when I noticed Sateen. Her skin was the color of the ocean. So blue it was almost black.

I went to her. “Sateen? Can you hear me?”

She was draped across a bright yellow couch, lips parted and cracked. Her eyes opened slightly. Even they were clouded with blue. “Hi, Skye.” Her voice was hoarse. “You took off on your own last night. Probably a good idea.”

“It won't feel like this forever,” I told her.

“Won't it?”

I shook my head. “App Hangovers scroll through your code pretty quickly.”

“I wasn't talking about the App Hangover,” she whispered.

I leaned closer so I could hear her better. “Then what?”

“I'm a nobody, Skye. We're all nobodies again. And we always will be.”

“Don't say that.”

“Why not? It's true.” She blinked slowly, as though it
hurt. “It was almost cruel to have so much attention for a day, only to have it taken away the next morning.” Her breathing was labored. She glanced left, looking at something I couldn't see. “The only voyeurs I have left are the ones excited to see my swift and spectacular fall. I even made this list on Reel Time—Top Five Briefest Flashes of Fame Among Under Eighteens.”

I wasn't sure what to say. “I'm sorry.”

She tried to laugh, but it came out a cough. “At least I'm famous for something.”

“Can I help you to your room?” I offered.

“Don't worry,” she said, her voice nearly gone. “I'll be okay.”

I hesitated. “All right. I'm going to school, but I'll check in on you later,” I added.

Her eyes were already closed.

I looked around to see if Adam or Sylvia were nearby. We'd parted ways before leaving Appless Bar so as not to seem suspicious. Three Singles who never hang out seen leaving one of the seedier locales in the City together might raise a few eyebrows. I lingered another moment, as though my presence could conjure theirs. When it didn't I gave up and left for school.

Inara was pacing the corner outside Singles Hall. “You've been ignoring me, Skye,” she said the second I was through the door. “Why?” There was hurt in her voice.

“I'm sorry,” I said quietly. “I needed time to think.”

She crossed her arms. “About what?”

“A lot of things.” The urge to tell her everything, about the message, meeting Lacy Mills, that somehow I'd just committed to unplugging illegally, was like an electric current through my code. But Lacy had already picked through our brains once, so it was highly likely she was monitoring my mind right now.

“I'm still upset about the Prime Minister's announcement,” I said, which wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth. “I can't get it out of my mind.”

Inara's eyes softened. “I'm your best friend. Please don't ignore me. I wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday. For the things I said.”

“Oh.” I studied the sidewalk, poking my toe into a small pothole in the atmosphere, watching how it disappeared and reappeared as I moved it. “Thanks for saying that.” Suddenly, the thought of leaving Inara without saying good-bye was beyond words. I threw my arms around her in a great hug.

When I let go, she looked at me strangely. “What was
that
for?”

“Just . . . I'm grateful to have such a good friend. A virtual sister.”

She laughed. “You don't have to get all mushy. I'm not going anywhere on you. Like,
ever
.”

“I know,” I said.

Then
but I am,
I thought to myself, feeling terrible about lying
.

“We should head to school,” Inara said. “No throngs of voyeurs today, but we'll still be late if we don't get moving.”

We started to walk. I needed to act normal, as though this was a day like any other, so I turned to Inara's favorite subject. “What's the gossip this morning?”

She immediately grinned. “You mean you don't know? Have you been in, like, shutdown or something?”

I shook my head. “Tell me.”

Inara's eyes were bright. “Funeral.”

“What?” I asked. “I don't understand. No one ever dies here.”

“I thought it was weird too, at first,” Inara said. “But then it started to make more sense. The government is holding a massive, state-sponsored funeral for Under Eighteens who got trapped in the Real World. Isn't that, like, the craziest thing you've ever heard?”

“But those seventeens aren't actually dead,” I said. But then it occurred to me: maybe they were, and this was how we were finding out. Maybe I'd unplug on Friday and discover a really unpleasant surprise. My eyes widened. “Or are they?”

“They're dead to us.” Inara talked with her hands when she was excited, and they waved through the atmosphere now. “To the App World, I mean. They can't come
back, so it's kind of like they're dead.” Then she shook her head. “I don't think they're
actually
dead. Rain Holt is going to be the star of the show. They're coding giant holograms of all the lost seventeens.”

“It isn't a show, Inara,” I said quietly. “It's to mark peoples' deaths.”

“Come on, Skye. It will be exciting!”

I looked at her in horror. “You're not actually planning on watching it?”

“
We
are, as in you and me, and yes. We're not just going to watch. Daddy got us on the guest list. It's going to be
the
social event of the year. Ten in the morning tomorrow. There's a City-wide holiday.”

I stopped. We were almost at school, but I didn't want to go inside. I didn't want another scene, like yesterday. “Inara, this isn't some juicy celebrity hologram with, like, Soda Channing acting like an idiot amped up on downloads and telling her celebrity friends off. This is about families who've lost children.” I thought of Adam's girlfriend, Parvda. “People whose boyfriends and girlfriends got trapped in the Real World forever. Funerals are for grieving. Funerals mark tragedy.”

Inara listened patiently. “Are you done?”

I stood there in stony silence. We were standing in front of the steps of someone's tall narrow house. I sat down on one of the stairs and put my head in my hands.

Inara joined me. She placed her palm on my back. “I
know it's not a joke. I just want you to feel better. I thought getting dressed up would help. That part was stupid, I guess. But I kind of thought you might like to go to the funeral. You know, that it would allow you to mark what you see as the tragedy of not unplugging to see your family, so then you can move on. And maybe it really will help, Skye.” Her voice was pleading. “Please go with me.”

I looked up. Turned to those familiar green eyes. A mixture of feelings surged through me. Frustration that Inara could be so superficial sometimes. Gratitude that she always meant well. Guilt that I was lying to her by omitting what I was about to do. And yes, a tiny bit of curiosity about the funeral. I wanted to see the holograms of those left behind. I wanted to see Parvda and, if I were to be honest, I wanted to see Rain.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do with Inara.

I agreed.

“Okay. I'll go.”

It was Inara who pulled me into a hug this time.

The two of us walked through the front doors of school arm in arm. The hallways were buzzing with gossip about the funeral. We didn't stop to talk to anyone. Instead, we headed to our first class. Today it was The Body: Its Problems & Perils, a topic that took on new meaning now that the border was closed.

“What are you going as?” Jenna Farrow asked Inara the second we sat down at our download pods. Classrooms
were set up like social lounges, everyone facing one another in a circle, with our teacher rotating in the middle. Jenna could never keep a thought to herself, and word bubbles were always popping up from her head and distracting people. She hated keeping anything private.

Inara glanced over at her. “To what?”

“The funeral
,
obviously.”

Inara opened her mouth to respond, but Jenna got there first.

“I'm totally downloading the latest in Widow Apps!”

“Ah, why would you do that?” Inara asked.

She rolled her eyes, like we should already know. “So I can go as Rain's widow. I'm going to wear a grand ball gown, but in black, with a peekaboo veil so people can see my face.”

Inara gave me a look, eyebrows raised.

I couldn't hold back my scorn. “You're going as Rain's widow?”

Jenna nodded. “I certainly feel like his widow. I've been watching his holograms on Reel Time ever since I turned twelve. Poor Rain, stuck forever in his
body
.” She shriveled her nose in disgust. “How totally tragic.” A bright smile returned to her face. “It's like that famous Real World movie star from, like, a century ago, who died young.”

“James Dean?” Inara suggested.

“Exactly,” Jenna sighed.

My hands twitched in my lap. Inara was shaking her
head at me. The words
Don't get involved
appeared in my brain.
Jenna's not worth it.
But I was tired of people not caring, people like Jenna who lived as though there wasn't anything else in our world other than an easy life of downloading App after App for her own personal entertainment.
Here we go again
, Inara sighed into my mind.

“Jenna, some people actually care that families are being ripped apart by the border closing—Rain's family, for example,” I said. “A funeral isn't a party.”

Jenna looked at me pityingly. “But it kind of is, Skye. It's not like funerals happen often and, like, everyone who's anyone is going. Stop taking things so seriously.”

Inara got up from her pod. “You know what? I feel a brain stall coming on.” She grabbed my hand and yanked me up too. “Walk me into the fresh atmosphere, Skye.”

“But—”

“I need you.” She dragged me along behind her. When we were outside the room she spun around. “You're not doing yourself any favors by lashing out. Jenna is just being Jenna.”

I studied my hands. They were already turning red with anger, and purple with shame. “It's not just Jenna. Everyone is talking like that.” I thought of Sateen and the rest of the Singles in the lounge this morning, broken and forgotten. “Sometimes I hate this world.”

“Skye,” Inara said, more softly this time. “This world is all you have.”

Her words stole my breath. They weren't true, but she didn't know that. That they could be true was awful. More and more I was realizing that the App World didn't belong to me like it did to other people—like it did to Inara. And maybe it never had. Maybe it never would.

“You have to let go,” she went on. “There's nothing else you can do.”

“I know,” I said out loud. “You're right. I will,” I lied.

Mrs. Worthington, our teacher, had already begun the day's lesson by the time we returned to class. She was perched on a glass desk that turned with the circular podium at the room's center. Her legs dangled, sharp stiletto heels clicking against the side as she spoke. “Before Marcus Holt invented the plugs,” she began, pausing to glare at Inara and me as we slid back into our pods before she continued on, “people used real legs to move through the world. This required muscle and tendon strength. But body parts easily stretched and were torn out of shape, causing great pain. Bones were notoriously breakable, especially as a person aged. A simple fall could crush one.”

I sat forward, paying attention with more interest than ever. Knowledge about the human body was considered essential because of the Service requirement, but also because a large branch of technological research was devoted to discovering ways to overcome our reliance
on the body. Leading App World researchers dedicated themselves to the defeat of death and to the goal of virtual eternity—the Race for the Cure. This class was supposed to encourage us to take up the science of bodily transcendence as a future career. I'd always been annoyed we had to take it, and Mrs. Worthington was my least favorite teacher.

“You never knew who might be capable of making the discovery of the millennium,” she was always telling us. “It might be someone sitting in this very room. It might even be one of you Singles!”

Mrs. Worthington called up a hologram.

A three-dimensional image of a human leg appeared, showing the inside. Pink muscle wrapped itself against long thin bone and blue veins shot through everything. The leg began to move, like it was walking along the ground. The foot stumbled on a rock, the knee crashing to the pavement. Muscle separated from bone. Bone chipped. Blood spurted.

Watching this reminded me that the security we enjoyed in our virtual bodies was misleading. I fell all the time when I was gaming, but there was never any lasting damage.