Page 70 of Coldwire
I’m mostly only finding an excuse to go off somewhere and make a call.
In seconds I’ve lost Kieren in the crush of tourists, navigating forward with my map. Upsie has standardized its architecture—its climbing titans of steel, straight and tall—everywhere except here, along this tourist strip. A portion of the buildings I’m passing are short and far older, their rooftops paved with flat red bricks. Kieren scored higher than me on that presentation in Medan Language class. I stammered answering questions about the war with Pyam two hundred years ago, and Kieren had extra fun facts up his sleeve about the cultural preservation effort the Pyaish populations in Medaluo underwent to keep these buildings as a way to remember their ancestors.
I scan the stores ahead of me, inspecting the map in my display. The depth perception shifts, and I huff, realizing I should have been using the elevated platforms—the tech store is on the second floor, where the silver doors bulge out from the existing houses, where businesses rented out their extra spaces after the city installed the elevated platforms, intent on taking advantage of the foot traffic.
Rather than going around for the steps at the end, I grab the edge of the platform and haul myself up, squeezing through the thin space where the glass barrier doesn’t touch the floor. The two closest tourists on the platform sniff at my behavior—an elderly Atahuan couple, which I can tell because they’re wearing NiLeisure head to toe, and no one outside of Atahua takes NileCorp’s fashion line seriously.
“Hi!”
I get the cheery greeting out before the store associate does, and she jumps to attention, intent on matching my pep. The air-conditioning in the store is on full blast. I can feel it in my nostrils.
“Welcome!” Her name tag saysNADINE. An Atahuan name. For a moment I think she’s not Medan, but then she comes closer. She is, only her features have been severely adjusted. Her chin is far sharper than any Atahuan or Medan alike, her nose thinner than a Popsicle stick—which can only be Medaluo’s filters. It’s not something frowned upon here, as it is in Atahua. It isn’t seen as bizarre or deceitful. Everyone knows that’s not how they look downcountry. It’s like decorating a dress-up game avatar. Or switching to an alter ego.
“Can I help you look for anything today?” she asks. “The new model of handhelds just came in, guaranteed to be ten times more comfortable than your display. We can calculate a payment plan quicker than you can sayWow!”
I glance up. The store’s name is Wow! Electronics.
“I just need a new laptop,” I say. I peer around the aisles. They’re entirely empty aside from Nadine. She’s practically rising onto the tips of her toesin her enthusiasm to help. I’ve gotten away from Kieren’s scrutiny only to meet another roadblock. “Actually, can I try out some soundproof booths first? Work from home is getting impossible with the social calls my mother is making in the kitchen.”
“Sure thing!” Nadine chirps. “They’re just around the back.”
I follow her through the aisles. The store doesn’t put the handhelds under glass cases, nor does it lock down any of the computer monitors. Demand is already low in virtual, the devices made solely in case someone is sick of having everything right in front of their eyes. No one commits theft when they’d be identified instantly either.
Nadine brings me into a corridor at the back, where their soundproof booths are laid out in a row. I thank her and step into the first one, tapping around as though I’m testing out its firmness before I close the door after myself.
I activate the call immediately.
“Pick up,” I mutter. “Pick up….”
“Lia!” It reroutes to Freya. “Aren’t you on your posting?”
“I am,” I reply enthusiastically. I don’t want her to tell Dad that something is wrong. “Can you connect me to Dad? I just wanted to check in.”
“Hmm… He’s in meetings right now, but I can pass on a message.”
My eyes flicker through the glass panel. Nadine isn’t going back to work. She’s leaning up against the entryway, watching me test the booth.
“Okay, I lied,” I say. “It’s actually a bit of an emergency. Please put me through.”
Freya seems concerned now. “Is everything all right?”
DEFINITELY NOT, FREYA,I want to say.THAT’S WHY I SAID IT’S ANEMERGENCY.
“Please just check for me! Thanks!”
The line clicks. I get a beat of silence. It draws long. Longer. I hear only the tapping of my fingers against the wooden table, the plush leather booth seat settling under my fidgeting. Then:
“Lia?”
“Project Wit,” I say without prelude. “Was there anything strange about it?”
A beat passes. “Excuse me?”
I open the briefing. I start to flip through the pages for anything I’ve missed,CONFIDENTIALemblazoned on each page. “I can’t say too much. But if you were to point outanythingstrange about Project Wit, what would it be?”
“Lia, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Dad says. “Is this about your posting? You said you were on a survey.”
Finding Chung’s missing body is definitely a survey of his life and times, I suppose.
