Page 29 of Coldwire
“Bye, Dad.”
Click.Though the line drops, I keep the box open a beat longer, watching my call log register the exchange. There’s a new whirring in the room. It sounds like miniature fans inside the engineers’ goggles.
“I was wondering,” Hailey starts, getting her father’s attention, “whether this means I can skip class today.”
Headmaster Murray frowns. “I’m not sure why.”
“Emotional support for Kieren. I need to be at the ready.”
“Hailey. That is not a legitimate reason to skip class.”
Kieren scoffs quietly. Only I am standing close enough to hear the sound. Unsatisfied by the lack of permission, Hailey’s switching tactics to argue that Headmaster Murray is lucky she even asked him first.
For twins, it’s fair enough that Hailey and Kieren don’t act anything alike, but it’s almost bizarre how much they don’t look anything alike either. Kieren’s short hair is dark like coarse coffee grounds, his eyes a hazy brown. Hailey’s eyes are soul-searing blue, her whole face freckled and her wavy hair lightening into dirty blond. They possess no resemblance in their features, but they do share an abstract resemblance to catalog models that have been photoshopped to death. Too symmetrical. Too pristine.
“How much longer?” Kieren asks the first engineer.
“It depends on where your user file is in the system,” the engineer answers. “As soon as I isolate it, we’ll get rumbling.”
Kieren props his hands on his hips. He sways his arm. His elbow knocks into mine.
“Where are we going to meet?”
I glance at him blankly.
“In Upsie,” Kieren clarifies. “Hackings will randomize our entry onto any landing pad within city parameters. If our avatars get separated, we should decide now where we convene.”
“Right,” I say. “I was going to bring that up too.”
Kieren knocks his elbow into me again to convey he doesn’t believe me. I whack him back equally hard.
“How about the premier’s statue?” I suggest.
“That’s a tourist hotspot. It’s way too busy.”
Once we’re both in, we’ll have the same server privileges and can directly message again. “So? Just text what you’re standing next to.”
“Sensory nightmare, Ward.”
Okay, fine. “How about the Star Hole?”
The Star Hole is a ditch by the border of Upsie, where the urban city starts to transform into sparser villages. After a teeny-weeny asteroid hit the border there, it got massive media attention for resembling a star until the Medan government roped it off. Upcountry has diligently re-created it, the ditch large enough to be picked up by the satellites.
Kieren points at his face. “I think we should stick within the city center where tourists would viably be.”
“Plenty of Atahuans visit the Star Hole.”
“An Atahuan tourist went viral on the feed for spray-painting a crude message on the Star Hole and got thrown in jail for two weeks. I don’t want to get hauled away before we can even start our assignment.”
Annoyed, I blink open a map in my display. I did hear the news about the tourist because Teryn Moore reshared it on the feed, and I read up about it quickly so that I could contribute a comment. I don’t need Kieren telling me about it.
I zoom in on a random street in central Upsie.
“Lovers’ Café on Sky Blue Street,” I read out, identifying the first establishment rated over three stars. A beat later, the warm prickle on my neck spreads to my face. “Uh, but—”
“That sounds fine with me.” Kieren’s expression remains level.
“Fine,” I confirm.
