Page 19 of Coldwire
“But he disappeared from downcountry Upsie,” I say. Final exam postings are always virtual. The academy can only inject us into the enemy country because NileCorp has control over the system, after all. It would be heinously more difficult to smuggle students into real-world Medaluo.
“Correct. You’re still a cadet. We’re not putting you on the actual field. If he’s retreated downcountry, he will have left signs upcountry, too: file uploads, monetary withdrawals, communications with businesses. Why did he disappear? Who did he upset? Did he delete Coldwire himself, or is someone else out to get him? Can we offer him protection?”
Headmaster Murray’s eyes glaze for a moment as he reads an incoming message. After a few seconds, he nods, then blinks to clear the message.
“NileCorp’s engineers are coming tomorrow morning to send you intoMedaluo’s server,” he continues. “You’ll get an early start on the rest of the class. Any more questions?”
My hands tighten on the folder. I’m making creases on the paper. Before I can overthink it, I blurt: “Why Kieren?”
“I’m sorry?”
Headmaster Murray doesn’t appear offended right off the bat, which is promising. Less of a chance he’s immediately marking me down as an insubordinate cadet who can’t be trusted with a task. Or as someone scheming to get his son off a prestigious posting.
“I only mean to ask,” I say carefully, “why does it take the two of us? I can handle this myself. I know I can.”
“I’m afraid that’s up to the board’s discretion,” Headmaster Murray answers.
“Did they consider anyone else for the role?”
It’s crystal clear why they want me. Their reasoning for Kieren isn’t as overt.
“I’m afraid that isn’t information I can divulge.” Headmaster Murray stands. No smile, but no sneer, either. He’s impossible to read, and I stay perpetually nervous. “If that is all?”
I hurry to rise. My chair squeaks back, its legs pushing into the rug just like Kieren’s on the right did, and I resist a sigh. From test scores to the way we stand.
“Yes, sir.”
Headmaster Murray gestures to the door. “Kieren is already packing, so you should too.”
I skip dinner and opt to lie on the carpet of my dorm room instead.
It’s comfy. I’ve never been one to need luxuries, but I’m glad that this is a facet of upcountry. The carpets are thicker, and the walls are cleaner. StrangeLoom will replicate everything large-scale with no exceptions, nomatter how much the politicians deem abandoned lots to be eyesores and call for adjustment. But the system allows for plenty of reasonable changes if NileCorp is at the end of the supply line. Clothing retailers can sell as many virtual pieces as they want. Restaurants can make as much food as there is demand. Everything upcountry is eerily real up to its most basic state, when one will find that NileCorp has stepped in with its pixels to replace original sources. Virtual farms are mere stillborn mimicries that are never harvested; virtual fabrics all come from the one mega StrangeLoom.
At the pixel level, upcountry uses only NileCorp materials. Of course it would be softer, nicer, smoother.
I puff out a breath, my hair fluttering off my face.
Kieren and I usually share a regular table in the cafeteria—though we occupy two opposite ends of the very long surface—and it’s clearly killing our friends that neither of us, it seems, is there tonight. They’re dying to find out more about the joint posting, gauging by the group chats I’ve muted. They have questions. Theories and rumors that I’m not allowed to clarify. I’ve gotCONFIDENTIALstamped over every page of the briefing folder, which I’ve since opened in my personal files after Headmaster Murray sent the digital version.
While I stare at the ceiling, I read the briefing again in my display, my eye movements flipping each page quickly. The geographic overview of Medaluo begins with a photograph of Upsie’s skyline. Short for “Land of the Upper Sea,” Upsie isn’t Medaluo’s capital, but it’s the first city that comes to mind when anyone thinks of Medaluo. Upcountry, those skyscrapers are the country’s financial and economic center. Downcountry, Upsie’s location by the country’s eastern coast means that it’s being subjected to the rising tides year after year. Trash slogs through the flooding streams, and the torrent destroys any ground-floor apartment on lower elevation. The real city is worse for wear, approaching utter abandonment in certain sectors.
I wouldn’t admit it out loud, not in this climate, but a part of me has always looked forward to the final posting just so I can see upcountry Medaluo at least once. I don’t want to be stationed there for the rest of my life paying back my debts, and I definitely don’t want to be there downcountry, which is where corporate soldiers are most needed. I’d still like to experience its virtual replica, though. Walk Upsie’s streets. Eat Threto’s food. Now the time has come… only I’ll have a tagalong.
“This is ridiculous,” I say to my empty dorm room. I still can’t believe they’re sending ustogether.
A knock comes on my door.Kieren,I think instinctively, and I flip onto my stomach, propping myself up with my elbows and brushing my bangs back into place.
“Come in,” I call.
My door flies open and hits the wall with a loud thud.
“My life is over.”
I scoff out a laugh, dropping off my elbows and returning to the floor to peer at Rayna. She’s changed into pajamas already, so she came from her own dorm, not the cafeteria. Her hair remains loose down her back rather than twisted up in that piece of foam she insists will create heatless curls, though, inevitably, by third period each day, her ponytail is once more as straight as a metal ruler.
“Why?” I ask. My cheek brushes against the carpet threads. “Did you go viral on the feed with a stupid post again?”
“No,” she grumbles, closing the door and marching into my room. “It’s—what happened in here? Why is it so messy?”
