The Ones We're Meant to Find(4)



“Yes, you,” said the girl, prompting Kasey’s Intraface to launch SILVERTONGUE, a conversation aid recommended by Celia. It’ll make things easier, her sister had promised.

Mostly, its rapid-fire tips just made Kasey dizzy. She blinked, popping the bubbles lathering her vision. “Talk to you about…?”

“Anything.”

Insufficient parameters. Annoyed, Kasey surveyed her surroundings for inspiration. “The entire human population fits into a one cubic kilometer cube?” The fact came out sounding like a question; she corrected her inflection. “The entire human population fits into a one cubic kilometer cube.”

“REPETITION DETECTED!” chimed SILVERTONGUE in disapproval.

“Really?” said the girl, peering at the dance floor over the rim of her cup. “Go on.”

“About the homo sapiens volume?”

The girl laughed, as if Kasey had told a joke. Had she? Jokes were good. Humor was a core trait on the Coles Humanness Scale. It was just … Kasey hadn’t been expecting laughter as a reaction. This wasn’t going well, by standards of an experiment. She had half a mind to ask the girl what was so funny, but was outpaced by the conversation.

“Thanks a million,” said the girl, looking away from the dance floor and finally facing Kasey. “Some people can’t take a ‘not interested’ hint to save their life. So, you here to see her too?”

Questions were straightforward. Questions, Kasey could handle, especially when she knew the anticipated answer. “Her?” she asked, only because she didn’t want to encourage it.

She waited for Celia’s name. Braced herself for it.

“Yeah, Kasey? Party host?” The girl nodded at the city Kasey had built out of cups when she failed to reply. “Guessing you aren’t here to mingle. Gets old fast, once you get over how real it feels. The younger sister, though…”

Don’t ask. Nothing good could come of it.

“What about her?” Kasey asked, caving to her curiosity.

“I don’t know.” The girl sipped her drink, eyes veiled. “That’s the lure, isn’t it? One minute, she’s dodging the press. The next, she’s e-viting everyone within a twenty-stratum radius to her party. The disconnect is disturbing, don’t you think? Like, I have a sister too, and I don’t know what I’d do if she went missing.” A new song came on, heavy on the delta-synth. “But sure as hell wouldn’t be jamming it up to Zika Tu.”

Fair. All solid points. “Maybe it’s her moving-on party,” Kasey offered, rather wishing now Meridian hadn’t flaked. Meridian would’ve been able to explain, in the same way she’d explained to Kasey, why this party made perfect sense, for reasons Kasey was blanking on.

Oh well. She’d tried. She added another cup to her city—and almost knocked the whole thing over when the girl said, “Hard to move on when they still haven’t found a body. Too morbid?” she asked as Kasey steadied her model. One cup rolled out of her reach. The girl caught it. “Sorry.” She placed the cup atop two others, where it wobbled. Kasey fixed it. “I keep forgetting it’s different here. Where I’m from, bodies are every … okay, yeah, I’ll stop.” She bobbed her drink at Kasey. “That’s me for you. Yvone, queen of gaffes.”

Silence followed.

The girl was waiting, Kasey realized after a delay, for Kasey to introduce herself as well.

Was it too late to come clean about her identity? Probably. “Meridian.”

“Sorry?”

“Meridian.” How did people talk at parties? Did people talk at parties? Why couldn’t this girl have ordered a drink like everyone else and been on her merry way? “Meridian,” Kasey repeated as the music turned up.

“What?”

“Meridian.” Was it condescending to spell out a name? Or overkill, when the name was as long as Meridian? She should’ve picked something shorter, in hindsight. “M-E-R—”

“Wait, I got it.” The girl blinked at Kasey three times, causing Kasey’s Intraface to emit a cheery little ding as it projected Kasey’s ID over her head.

MIZUHARA, KASEY

Rank: 2

Crap.

Kasey canceled the projection, then checked to see if anyone had noticed. Outside, in streets, schools, shops, or any public domain, rank was auto-displayed, the number over your head dogging you wherever you went. Private domains were the only respite. As such, it was considered bad form to swagger around with your rank when it wasn’t required.

It was also bad form to lie about your name.

“You’re…” A frown spread across Yvone’s face. “Celia’s…”

Abort. The LOG OUT screen, already up on Kasey’s Intraface, was just a CONFIRM button away when something clapped onto her shoulder.

A hand.

“Kasey?”

She turned—

—and knew, the second she saw the boy, that he was one of Celia’s. Tristan, his name must have been. Or Dmitri. One of the two.

Which?

“Kasey,” repeated Tristan/Dmitri, blinking as if he didn’t quite believe his eyes. Behind him, the crowd danced on. Kasey would’ve given anything to be in the thick of it right now. “Thank Joules. I’ve been trying to reach you for months.”

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