How to Lead a Life of Crime

chapter TWENTY-SIX



BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE





Ten hours later, Gwendolyn made good on her promise. She marched into the cafeteria at dinnertime and took a seat across from Joi at one of the Android tables. I don’t know exactly what Gwendolyn told her, but I know Joi never said a word. A minute after Gwendolyn’s lips started moving, Joi’s eyes left her guest and found me on the other side of the dining hall. There was no expression on her face. She just stared straight at me until Gwendolyn had finished what she’d come to say. Then Joi walked out, leaving a tray full of food behind on the table.

That was two and a half weeks ago. I waited as long as I could for Joi’s anger to cool. But the Immunity Phase ends in three days, on the first of June. Then the slaughter will commence, and I need to make sure she’s prepared for the horrors to come. She’ll finally look at me again. Sometimes we even share the same sofa in the Wolves’ Den. Joi’s quizzed me about the workings of the academy, but it’s the only subject she’ll ever discuss. I can’t utter a word of warning out loud—and Joi refuses to join me on the roof where we could speak in private. I write long, detailed notes instead. She reads my letters, rips them to shreds, and never replies.

Joi told me she was here because I never said goodbye. Maybe she came looking for me. Maybe she once wanted to save me. But now she’s determined to punish me.

• • •

The evening after she was named Dux, Joi paid her first visit to the Wolves’ Den. I’d just finished making sure that every beast was accounted for when she made her grand entrance. It was all the more remarkable because I don’t think anyone actually saw her arrive. The chatter in the lounge just faded away. One by one, the Wolves discovered her sitting among us.

I don’t know where she got her hands on a pair of tight jeans. Or a T-shirt that said Don’t Mess with Texas. Surrounded by sleek, designer-clad Wolves, Joi stuck out like a punk at a polo match. But when I scanned the room, the rest of us looked like little kids dressed up in their parents’ clothes. And I could see I wasn’t the only one who suddenly felt ridiculous. It was one of Joi’s most brilliant moves.

“Hiya,” Joi said.

No one replied. It didn’t seem to bother her, but I spoke up anyway. “Welcome to the lounge.”

“Thanks, Flick. Nice to know one of you has some manners.” If she hadn’t ended the sentence with a laugh, it would have sounded like chiding. “Cool clubhouse you got here. It’s like one of those sets down there in the Incubation Suites, doncha think? Remember those? When you first get there, all the rooms feel like cages. Then Mandel puts up those weird sets and you think you’ll never get used to them. But the longer you’re down there, the more normal they seem.”

The observation was met with another silence that Joi had to break.

“So which of you has been here the longest?” she asked.

Everyone looked at Caleb, who took his time answering. Although his plan to seize power had failed, he didn’t seem ready to admit defeat. “I have. This is my seventh semester.”

“You’re human resources. Am I right, Caleb?”

His nostrils flared briefly at the mention of his name. “I’m the top student in human resources, that is correct.”

“Not anymore,” Joi replied. “But you’re still qualified to answer my next question. Since you’ve been at the Mandel Academy, how many people have been named Dux in their first week at the school?”

He didn’t want to say it. “None.”

Joi nodded. “Which means we’re all in uncharted territory now. So I think it’s a good idea to start mapping out some rules. You may have noticed that I’ve been interviewing the lower-ranking students. As Dux, it’s my job to assess the student body. And I want to make one thing absolutely clear.” She slid to the edge of her seat and leaned forward with her hands on her knees. “Until I’m finished, you’re all going to keep your grubby little fingers off those bodies. Nobody gets touched till I say so.”

Caleb’s eyes opened and shut in a lazy, lizard-like blink. “Has Mr. Mandel approved this study of yours?” he asked.

“He made me Dux, didn’t he?” Joi responded. “I think I’ll take that as a sign of his approval. Unless you disagree. Do you?”

“No,” Caleb demurred.

“Excellent. Second, I want to be kept up to date on all of your school projects. In other words, I would like to see your homework every evening before you leave this lounge.”

“That’s a rather unusual request, June—” Caleb started.

“Joi,” she corrected him. “Like I said, we’re in uncharted territory. Everything is going to feel a bit strange at first.”

“Does your co-Dux support these new measures?”

“Absolutely,” I chimed in, as if I’d been informed far in advance. It was the first time I’d heard about any of it.

“So let’s get started.” Joi’s eyes fell on Leila. She rose from her chair and positioned herself directly behind the girl. “What’s that you’re working on?” she asked, bending over the couch to have a peek at the screen of Leila’s computer. “Do you have Internet access?”

Leila grimaced like she’d been surprised with an enema. No one—not even Julian—had ever been allowed to look at her screen. “Only in class. I’m working offline right now. Developing malware. This targets online bank accounts. It skims a fraction of a cent off each transaction that’s made. But over time, we’re talking billions of transactions.”

“Fascinating. How much would you get paid for developing something like that?”

“I wouldn’t get paid,” Leila sneered, unable to hide her contempt. “After graduation, I’ll be a free agent. I’ll make my own money.”

“Maybe I should transfer over to technology,” Joi mused. “I read in the newspaper that someone used a similar trick to target PayPal accounts. They don’t know how much the guy got. The best guess is around ten million dollars.”

Leila’s computer nearly fell off her lap when she spun around to face Joi. “Someone targeted PayPal?”

“Yeah.”

“I did that for class last semester.”

“Really?” Joi gasped with mock surprise. “Then I guess you’re closer to your goal than you thought. You’re practically a free agent already.”

Even if Mandel had been eavesdropping, he couldn’t have seen the wink Joi used to punctuate the word free.

“One more question.” Joi took out a small scrap of paper and unfolded it. “Does this mean anything to you?”

No one but Leila could see what was written on the paper.

“Yeah,” Leila said. “The instructors have a bunch of technology Androids hacking any websites that mention it.”

“That’s what I thought,” Joi replied as she crumpled the note in her hand. “What about you?” Joi asked, moving on to Julian. “What have you been working on?”

Unlike Leila, Julian seemed eager to impress the new Dux. Or maybe he didn’t want to risk another trip to Flick’s barbershop now that his pixie hairdo is finally growing back in. He opened a black binder and began to flip through its pages.

“I’m finishing a business plan for a synthetic opioid that I invented last year. It’s as addictive as heroin and as easy to manufacture as methamphetamine. I’ve already outlined production and distribution. Now I’m working on marketing.”

“Your drug—smoke, snort, or inject?” Joi inquired.

“All of the above,” Julian said proudly. “That’s what the consumer wants these days.”

“Do you have a name for your product?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I grew up in Hawaii. There’s a word, mana—”

Joi cut him off. “It means ‘the power of the universe.’”

“How do you know that?” Julian looked crestfallen.

“Until I came here, I was living on the Lower East Side. They’ve been selling Mana on street corners there for the past three or four months. I never tried it, but it sounds an awful lot like the drug you’ve described. I think someone on the outside may have beaten you to the punch.”

“No—” Julian started to argue.

“Yes. Jeez, don’t you guys keep up with the news? Sounds like you’re all out of touch. Who wants to be next?”

That night, it felt like Joi took a torch to the Wolves’ Den and burned the whole set to the ground. Beneath the plaster and paint, the lounge was nothing more than a cage. And no one trapped inside survived the destruction unscathed. Their ideas were all old, outdated, or unoriginal. But you needed to see Joi’s face to get the full message. Without the benefit of her winks, nudges, and smirks, an eavesdropper might have misinterpreted the routine. It would have sounded like she was knocking the Wolves down a few notches. And she did, but that was nothing more than a bonus. Everyone in that room understood exactly what Joi was telling them. And I could see the fury and indignation on the top students’ faces that night. They were furious at the people who’d tricked them—who’d told them their school projects were homework when they’d actually been working for free. The all-powerful Wolves had been the alumni’s slaves since day one.

I sat on a windowsill and watched. Ella was studying my face from across the room, trying to figure out if I knew what was happening. I gave her a shrug, and she inched her way across the tower like a commando advancing through sniper fire. When she reached my side, she took out the notepad she always keeps in a pocket.

I thought she was your girl, Ella wrote.

I borrowed her pen. She was, I answered.

How long?

’Bout 6 mo.

What’s she doing?

IDK.

She going to get us killed?

IDK.

Is she crazy?

IDK.

You trust her?

I paused before I scribbled my reply. Yes.