Page 8 of The Towering Sky
Your blood alcohol levels are higher than the legal limit, reported Nadia, the quantum computer embedded in Watt’s brain. She projected the words over his contacts like an incoming flicker, communicating the way she always did when Watt was in a public setting.
Tell me something I don’t know, Watt thought somewhat immaturely.
I just worry about you drinking alone.
I’m not drinking alone, Watt pointed out mirthlessly.All these people are here with me.
Nadia didn’t laugh at the joke.
Watt’s gaze was drawn to a pretty, long-limbed girl with olive skin. He tossed his empty beer bottle into the recycle chute and started over.
“Want to dance?” he asked once he was standing next to her. Nadia had gone utterly silent.Come on, Nadia. Please.
The girl pulled her lower lip into her teeth and glanced around. “No one else is dancing....”
“Which is why we should be the first,” Watt countered, just as the music abruptly switched tracks to a grating pop song.
The girl’s reluctance visibly melted away, and she laughed. “This is actually my favorite song!” she exclaimed, taking Watt’s hand.
“Really?” Watt asked, as if he didn’t already know. It was because of him—well, because of Nadia—that the song was playing. Nadia had hacked the girl’s page on the feeds to determine her favorite music, then hijacked the bar’s speakers to play it, all in less than a second.
Thanks, Nadia.
Are you sure you want to thank me? This song is garbage, Nadia shot back, so vehemently that Watt couldn’t help cracking a smile.
Nadia was Watt’s secret weapon. Everyone could search the i-Net on their computerized contacts, of course, but even the latest contacts operated by voice-command—which meant that if you wanted to look something up, you had to say it aloud, the way you sent a flicker. Only Watt could search the i-Net insurreptitious silence, because only Watt had a computer embedded in his brain.
Whenever Watt met someone, Nadia would instantly scan the girl’s page on the feeds, then determine what he should say in order to win her over. Maybe the girl was a tattooed graphic artist, and Watt would pretend to love old 2-D sketches and small-batch whiskey. Maybe she was a foreign exchange student, and Watt would act urbane and sophisticated; or maybe she was a passionate political advocate, and Watt would claim to espouse her cause, whatever it was. The script always changed, but in each case, it was easy to follow.
These girls were all looking for someone like them. Someone who echoed their own opinions, who said what they wanted to hear, who didn’t push them or contradict them. Leda was the only girl Watt had ever met whodidn’twant that, who actually preferred to be called out on her bullshit.
He forced away the thought of Leda, focusing on the bright-eyed girl before him.
“I’m Jaya,” she said, stepping closer and draping her arms around Watt’s shoulders.
“Watt.”
Nadia provided him with a few conversation starters, questions about Jaya’s interests or her family, but Watt wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. “I have to leave soon,” he heard himself say.
Wow, really jumping the gun tonight, aren’t you?Nadia remarked drily. He didn’t bother to reply.
Jaya startled a little, but Watt quickly forged ahead. “I’m fostering a rescue puppy from the shelter,” he said, “and I need to go check on him. I have one of those pet-minder bots, but I still feel weird leaving it with him. He’s so young, you know?”
Jaya’s expression had instantly softened. Her dream was to be a veterinarian. “OfcourseI understand. What kind of puppy?”
“We think he’s a border terrier, but we aren’t totally sure. Apparently he was found alone in Central Park.” For some reason the lie tasted rancid in Watt’s mouth.
“No way! I have a border terrier rescue too! His name is Frederick,” Jaya exclaimed. “They found him under the old Queensboro Bridge.”
“What a coincidence,” Watt said flatly.
Jaya didn’t seem to notice his lack of surprise. She looked at him through her thick fluttering lashes. “Want me to come help? I’m really good with rescues,” she offered.
It was exactly what Watt had been fishing for, yet now that Jaya had suggested it, he was shockingly uninterested. He felt as if nothing or no one would surprise him ever again.
“I think I’ll be okay,” he offered. “But thanks.”
Jaya recoiled. “Okay, then,” she said coolly, and stalked away.
