He studies me with a curious gaze but decides to let his own questions drop. He brings up the glowing cube between us, the key to this hack. “For you,” he says.
I take it and store it away in my files. My palms feel clammy.
“You’ll have every freedom you had before you met us,” Zero continues. “If you need any equipment, let me know. Jax mentioned you lost your board during your escape. I’ll have a new one sent for you. Keep me updated on how things are going between you and Hideo.”
I nod without saying a word. The thought of me invading Hideo’s memories the way Zero just did mine makes me feel sick. It’s nothing that he isn’t doing with the NeuroLink, I remind myself, and in much worse ways than that.
Zero pauses at my door for a moment. When he glances at me over his shoulder, there’s something else in his gaze—something stiff, as if I’d struck a nerve. “I didn’t know which Memory of yours would appear,” he says.
It’s almost an apology. I don’t know what to make of it. All I can do is stand here quietly, fishing for the right words, trying not to let my mind linger on the night of my escape and the terror of crouching alone in that doorway.
It’s strange, this moment. It’s almost as if he’d let down his guard to reveal a hint of his opaque interior. But it lasts only for a second. Then he steps out of my room, leaving me alone with my endless questions.
I think of Sasuke’s small figure, huddled in a corner. His blue scarf, given to him by the brother he doesn’t seem to remember loving, wrapped desperately around his neck, the way he clung to it as if it were all he had in the world. Most of all, I linger on the glimpse of the mystery symbol embroidered on his sweater. I pull the image up again now and let it hover before me.
Why did he let me see such a personal Memory? Why was it so easy for me to access? It could be that it was just a random mistake, just like I never meant for him to see mine. But Zero is one of the most powerful hackers I’ve ever met. How could he be careless enough to expose this sensitive moment from his past to me? I stand there quietly, struggling to figure him out.
Why does Hideo’s name mean nothing to you? Who took you? What does that symbol mean?
What happened to you?
9
True to his word, Zero has a new board sent up for me within hours. This one is all black, from surface to wheels to bolts. I test it out tentatively, letting myself adjust to its weight and traction. It should be good for traveling at night.
I stay in the hotel room until it’s fully dark outside, inspecting the corners of the walls, searching for signs of hidden cameras or some other surveillance. Then I run a careful check on my account, in case Zero had indeed installed some kind of tracker on my system in addition to my black cuff.
To my surprise, I find nothing. Maybe Zero and Taylor are serious about giving me my privacy.
From the balcony, I can see the silver and blue overlays on the streets below, showcasing the area’s loyalty to Team Winter Dragons. The hotel is somewhere in the middle of Omotesando, a glittering, upscale district full of luxury shops housed inside grand architecture. Silver and blue lights wrap around every tree. Purses and shoes on display in store windows sport bejeweled crests from the Phoenix Riders and Team Andromeda, celebrating the Final. Since I first arrived, another two top players have been announced for the closing ceremony, and now their images are being broadcast against the windows of Prada and Dior.
SHAHIRA BOULOUS of TURKEY | ANDROMEDA
ROSHAN AHMADI of UK | PHOENIX RIDERS
It occurs to me that Jax had brought me here in a state of unconsciousness. Now the Blackcoats are letting me step out the door unattended and fully alert.
I don’t quite believe it. I could easily go back on my word to them. But there’s not much I could do to them at this point—I don’t know where they are or anything incriminating about them.
Get into Hideo’s mind. That’s what the Blackcoats are asking of me. I look in the direction of Tokyo Dome, where enormous virtual symbols for the Phoenix Riders and Team Andromeda are already hovering in the night sky above the stadium, with a timer counting down the next twenty-four hours until the game happens. Hideo will be at the Final rematch tomorrow.
My thoughts wander back to Zero. I’d spent a moment running searches on the symbol on Sasuke’s sleeve, but no matches turned up. It doesn’t belong to any corporation I’ve ever heard of, nor does it resemble anything that might hint at what it is. It’s simply a series of polygons overlapping each other, as abstract as anything can be.
I quietly put a call out to Tremaine.
He answers almost immediately. “Hey!” he exclaims in my ear so loudly that I wince. An instant later, his virtual figure appears, and I see him walking on a crowded, brightly lit street, his hands buried in his pockets.
“A little quieter,” I reply. “I can hear you fine.”
“Where the hell are you?” Tremaine squints at me, trying to make sense of my surroundings. “Are you okay? The Riders are freaking out about you. Roshan even called me to see if I knew what was going on.”
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Someplace in Roppongi. Where are you? I’ve been trying to track you down.”
His hurried voice makes my mind whirl. “Omotesando. Don’t track me. It’s too dangerous. I’ll come find you.”
“What do you mean, it’s too dangerous? I heard about gunfire in Shinjuku a couple of days ago. It was all over the news—they said some kind of madman opened fire. It’s unheard of in Japan, even in Kabukichō. Two people were killed. I thought one of them could have been you. What happened?”
It already seems like years since I last talked to them in the bar. I bite my lip. “I’m okay,” I reply. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain when I see you.” I keep my voice low. “But first, I need you to look at something for me.”
Before Tremaine can answer, I send him the screenshot of young Sasuke in the room.
His bewildered voice now turns curious. “Who’s this?”
“Sasuke Tanaka, apparently, when he was young. See that symbol on his sleeve?”
“Yeah. What is it?”
“I have no idea. That’s what I need your help with.”
“You run a search on it yet?”
“Yeah. I turned up nothing.”
Tremaine pauses, and I imagine him studying the symbol with a frown, trying to match it up with something. “Hmm,” he finally murmurs under his breath. “I’m not finding anything on it, either, not on a first try. But I think I know someone who can help. Where’d you get this screenshot?”
“That’s part of the long story.” I glance out my balcony, looking on as icons blink on across Tokyo’s landscape wherever my eyes sweep. “Tomorrow night, after the Final rematch. Let’s meet up with the others, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Hopefully I’ll have something for you by then.” He nods at me, and we disconnect.
The paranoia hits me instantly. What if Zero had overheard my conversation with Tremaine? I haven’t forgotten what happened to me the last time I was out in public alone just a few short days ago. Now I’m sitting safely in a hotel room, but I still can’t ignore the feeling that someone might burst in at any moment.
Concentrate.
I am about to place another call, this time to the Phoenix Riders—when a movement out near my balcony makes me freeze. I crane my neck, eyes searching for a moment, until I see that someone has emerged onto the balcony of Jax’s suite next to mine.
It’s Zero.
The glow from the city sprawl below outlines his shape in dim light. He stares out at the landscape for a moment, his eyes sweeping slowly toward my room. I want to turn my gaze away, in case he can see me watching him.