Chapter 2

Should Look Sadder

Jane’s mind felt blank as she watched the line of well-dressed mourners leaving her father’s funeral. I should look sadder.

Several mourners threw her judgmental glances as they passed her on their way out of the stone temple. Her impatience must have shown on her face. Well, screw you too.

The funeral was a farce. Dad had never been religious, so why all the fuss in a Via temple? To make you feel better about yourselves, that’s why. She wished she could say the words aloud to the expensively attired mourners.

Victor Colt was—had been—an important man. That meant when he’d died, other important people wanted to be seen grieving to show everyone else that they were compassionate people. They always made it about themselves: “My heart and prayers go out to Victor Colt’s family. I feel saddened by the loss of such a great man. His death has had such a profound impact on me.”

You didn’t really know him! They only saw the illustrious leader who had reshaped the Kyderan financial industry, not the person he’d been behind all that. Jane wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her face straight. She wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the mourners looked to her, and at how much Dad, who had planned every detail of his funeral in his will years ago, would have loved the charade.

Jane had buried her father long before his body had gone cold. He’d been in the hospital, comatose, for six months before a sudden infection had taken what was left of him. Initially, she’d convinced herself that he would wake someday. Her wish had almost come true six weeks before, when his doctors told her they’d successfully connected him to an experimental virtual reality platform, one that would allow her to enter his mind and see him again.

Jane had eagerly placed the heavy VR visor around her eyes and been whisked out of her reality and into her father’s. Upon entering the virtu-world, she was surprised to find Dad sitting in his large, glass-walled office at Quasar Bank Corporation. The virtu-world should have represented his personal paradise, and he was at work, of all places.

Her joy upon seeing him overrode her initial bewilderment. She ran up to him and threw her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you, Dad. I’ve missed you.”

Dad returned her embrace with a light pat on the back. “Good to see you too, Jane. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“So much has happened recently.” Jane enthusiastically described how she was weeks away from completing a workshop with a famed composer and how her piece had been accepted by the Kydera City Music Festival. “There’ll be all kinds of scouts in the audience. Did you know that’s how J. Schnurman got her start?” She grinned. “That could be me, Dad. I could really make it.” She didn’t expect her father to jump for joy or anything, but she hoped she might receive an approving nod and a “well done.” Maybe even a smile.

Dad pulled his lips into a deep frown. “So what does that mean? You’re going to waste your time trying to be an artist? Jane, you have a promising career here at Quasar. This hobby of yours will divide your concentration and consume time you should be spending on getting ahead. It’s nice that the music program invited you, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to decline.”

Jane blinked. She didn’t know how to express what a tremendous achievement it was to have been selected out of millions of interstellar applicants. Jane Colt, the girl with nothing but a university music degree, had beaten out former child prodigies and graduates from the galaxy’s best conservatories. The festival was her shot at the life she wanted, her chance to do professionally what she’d dreamed of since she was a child.

Composing wasn’t something she did; it was who she was. Without any assignments or deadlines, she’d written hours’ worth of orchestral suites and song cycles, arias from operas that would never be staged, chorales from cantatas that would never be sung. She’d dedicated herself to each project until she’d completed it, even if it would remain unknown to anyone else. At last, her creations had a chance at being heard. She’d been drowning in disappointment, and someone had finally thrown her a rope. And Dad wants me to decline?

No, she would climb that rope with all the strength she could muster so that someday, she might spend her days flourishing in a role she was meant for instead of rotting away at a job she not only disliked, but was really, really bad at. If Dad hadn’t been Quasar’s big boss, there was no way they would have hired an absentminded daydreamer such as her to crunch their numbers.

“I quit Quasar months ago,” Jane said finally. “I’m sorry, Dad. I tried to be the person you want me to be, but I can’t change who I am.”

The furrows in Dad’s brow deepened. “Is this some kind of practical joke? Just this morning, you and I had a talk about your prospects at the company.”

What? “We spoke this morning?”

“Yes. And I agree with you. You can’t change who you are, and the fact is that you’re not well suited for your current role in analytics. But you can be very charming, which is why I’m moving you to the client-facing side of the company.”

I don’t get it. Jane angled her head in bewilderment.

Dad leaned back in his chair, and the corners of his mouth lifted. “So it is a joke. Very cute. You had me worried.”

Huh? Jane recalled that the VR platform would fill her father’s gaps in memory with what he wanted to believe. Furthermore, it was meant to be a perfect world Dad could mold to his own preferences.

Like the Snare we trapped Pandora in… Shit. One of the feared side effects of the program was that the patient—her father—could become addicted; he might prefer the perfect virtual world and refuse to acknowledge reality.

But surely a virtual world’s better than no world at all, right? He just got wired in, so he’s probably a bit confused. Jane mentally ran through what she could say to set him straight.

Before she could speak, Dad gave her an approving beam. “I just realized I haven’t told you how proud I am of you. You were proactive enough to come to me and bring up the topic of advancing your career.” His blue eyes, usually so hard, brightened with happiness. “I’m glad you’re finally embracing your path.”

Jane had never seen him look at her like that before, not when speaking about her future. She couldn’t go back to receiving disappointed sighs—not yet.

“Thanks, Dad.” Jane forced a smile.

Dad’s countenance became stern. “While you’re here, there’s another matter I’ve been meaning to discuss with you. You’re twenty-two years old, and the time has come for you to think about your personal future as well as your professional one.”

“Um… Actually, I turned twenty-three a few weeks ago.”

“That can’t be.” Dad’s expression fell, and his eyes went blank. “I was certain your birthday wasn’t for another five months—five months—five months—”

The office flickered. Black stripes flashed across the glass walls. Jane recalled with alarm that cognitive dissonance could cause the virtu-world to glitch.

“Just kidding!” she said quickly. “Another practical joke.”

The world steadied. Dad’s eyes became attentive, and he shook his head. “Must you always play around?”

“Sorry. It won’t happen again.” How much does he remember?

“Good.” Dad laced his fingers. “Now, back to the subject. As you know, we live in a fast-moving society. Morals are loose, and principles all but forgotten. These days, more than ever, it is important to preserve the traditional values of our Earth Zero ancestors, such as the value of family.”

Jane nodded. “Of course.”

“What I mean to say is that you need to start thinking seriously about finding a husband.”

What? Jane opened her mouth, but couldn’t come up with a response.

Dad continued, “I know you are very fond of that seminary boy you’ve been seeing, but this dalliance must end. It’s unproductive.”

“I love him!” The words tumbled out of Jane’s mouth. “I went to the university you told me to and worked at the company you wanted, but you can’t tell me who to marry. We’re millennia ahead of those days!”

Dad lifted a hand. “Calm down. You are free to see whomever you please. But I must act as the voice of reason. So many young people end up wasting their best years on infatuations. Societal standards may change, but no amount of technology can return the energy of youth. While I’m not saying you should get married tomorrow, I do want you to consider the future. Your mother and I both regretted waiting to have children.”

Children? No! The possibility of parenthood was not something she wanted to think about. She drew a breath and tried to speak in a calmer tone. “Listen, Dad, Adam’s probably the love of my life, and I’m not gonna stop seeing him because you told me to.”

Dad frowned. “I’ve already been too lenient. I let you major in music, didn’t I? You would have wasted your life on that nonsense if I hadn’t put an end to it.”

You didn’t end it. I gave it up because I thought I had no chance, and that was a mistake.

Dad gestured at a family photo on his desk, which had been taken shortly before Mom’s death eight years before. “Look at how well your brother has done since he stopped messing around. His career is soaring, and he’s engaged to a lovely, accomplished young woman.”

Actually, Devin quit Quasar too and is working as a spy or something for ISARK. And Sarah’s an AI bitch who broke his heart.

Jane hadn’t had the heart to tell Dad. She’d bitten down her protests and played along with her father’s dream world. As the weeks passed, his mind had deteriorated further, until he’d become a lifeless, mechanical version of the father she’d known.

That had been when she mourned. By the time Jane received the call saying that his heart stopped beating, hers was too numb to hold any more grief. She only had so many tears to shed.

Dad had been trapped in the artificial world in which he ruled the Silk Sector and his children were perfect. Jane hated that he’d died without truly knowing her or her brother. He couldn’t accept that Jane wasn’t his obedient little angel anymore. Nor could he accept that Devin only obeyed his commands because of guilt over the past, which had left her brother too hollow to seek a future of his own.

Devin presently stood beside Jane at the temple’s door, staring into oblivion. He couldn’t seem to manage even the halfhearted nods and fake smiles she gave the mourners. Except for his dark hair, which fell in wide waves by his ears and nape, he looked like a younger version of the proudly handsome hologram of Victor Colt shining beside the casket.

Devin wasn’t the type to shed a tear, but Jane could sense how devastated he was. The Pandora program had been targeting him when it—Jane still refused to acknowledge that programmed monstrosity with a human pronoun—had hijacked Quasar’s automated security system and shot Dad. After Devin had discovered that Sarah was an AI, Pandora’s brilliant logic had decided the best way to keep the secret was to frame him for murder.

Jane wondered if the screwed-up universe was purposely doing its best to destroy her brother. First, Mom had been killed trying to deliver the ransom when he’d been taken hostage eight years ago. Then Sarah, the woman he would have spent the rest of his life with, had turned out to be a heartless robot, a machine of deception. If Sarah had been sentient, Jane knew Devin would have stayed by her side despite her synthetic nature, just as Jane had stayed with Adam. But Sarah was non-sentient, an empty shell whose every pretty promise had been a soulless lie, and she’d obeyed Pandora’s commands to erase Devin from her life.

Now, Dad’s gone, too, and Devin blames himself. Jane hooked her arm around her brother’s and gave him a quick hug. Devin looked down at her. The corner of his mouth flickered, but the smile failed.

She gave him a firm look. “For the last time, Devin, it’s not your fault.”

He turned away without a word, but she knew what he would’ve said: “Yes, it is, and nothing can change that.”

She leaned her head against her brother’s shoulder and blinked back a sudden surge of tears. Twenty-nine was far too young to have given up on life. Devin had let Sarah become his world, and losing her had left him blind to hope.

After the truth about Pandora had been revealed and he’d been pardoned for his nonexistent crime, Jane had hoped he’d find a new start to his life. Instead, he’d drifted from day to day in blank resignation, going through the meaningless motions of office-apartment-office-apartment until ISARK—the Intelligence and Security Agency of the Republic of Kydera—had coerced him into working for them.

Jane had initially been thrilled when she’d learned that he’d left Quasar. She’d thought he’d done so to pursue a career in something he cared about, but the detached way he’d told her made it clear that he’d had little choice in the matter. He’d been an ISARK informant years ago, and they’d wanted him back undercover. That meant returning to the dangerous world that had nearly gotten him killed. Maybe that was why he’d accepted the assignment.

Jane tried to banish the thought. She couldn’t stand the idea of her brave, intelligent brother kicked to the ground. Not by people she could scream at or obstacles she could tear down, but by an internal darkness she was helpless to fight. She wanted to sidekick the sons of bitches who’d pulled Devin back into ISARK and shove him into some ridiculously fun job, like flying stunt ships. She wanted to punch that bitch Sarah and introduce him to bevies of charming beauties.

But he never listened to a word she said, insisting that he was “fine,” a lie she could always see through. Sometimes, she just wanted to shake him. You’ve always taken care of me, Devin. Why can’t I take care of you?

She felt Devin’s hand on her head and opened her eyes. He wasn’t looking at her; his eyes were fixed on the temple’s clerestory. She followed his gaze, wondering what about the shadowy upper level had caught his attention. Nothing but stone arches and stained glass. I don’t get it.

Devin tensed and pushed her behind him. She nearly tripped.

“Hey!” she whispered. “What was that?”

His dark eyes darted around. “Nothing.”

Jane ignored the puzzled-looking mourners and faced Devin. “You’ve been jumpy since you arrived yesterday. What’s going on?”

Devin attempted another smile. “Looks like you were right about my being paranoid. Comes with the job, I guess.”

Jane wanted to ask more, but she wasn’t supposed to talk about ISARK in public. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Devin worked as a government analyst.

The last few mourners filed out. Finally. Now, you can go back to your fancy apartments and change into more flatteringly colored overpriced clothes. Meanwhile, I’ll never see Dad again, never argue with him over the foolishness of a music career or blow him away with my brilliance when I triumphantly take to the stage. He’ll never get to show off his pretty little daughter at another gala, and I’ll never get to introduce my grumpy old father to my new artsy friends. Her eyes stung, and she rubbed them. Looks like you can’t run out of tears, after all.

Devin embraced her. “I’m so sorry, Pony. Dammit, I am so sorry.”

That’s it. Frustrated by his apparent determination to blame himself for Dad’s death, Jane threw him off. “You want me to curse you? Fine! Damn you, Devin! Damn you for always being sorry for shit you didn’t do!”

For several seconds, Devin didn’t speak. “Forgive me.” He kissed her forehead, then walked away.

Jane watched him exit the temple’s wide doorway. He looked so forlorn. I know you have a secretive job, but why can’t you tell me what’s troubling you?

She turned back to the emptied temple. Dad’s hologram still shone at the front, flanked by the elaborate casket containing his body and the illuminated symbol of the Via faith: two golden stars with long rays, one solid with transparent rays and the other its inverse. Soon, the casket would be taken to the Colt estate, where Victor Colt could join the other great Colts in the family mausoleum. So many industry leaders and interstellar politicians rested in that one place. Now, Devin and I are all that’s left. The mysterious spy-or-something and the wannabe composer. No wonder we were never good enough.

She walked down the aisle, looking for Adam. He’d been by her side during the service, but she’d thought it might look weird if a non-family member stood by the door accepting condolences from “friends” of the deceased.

As she approached the altar, she noticed Adam sitting in one of the pews. His body folded forward on his knees, and he pressed his face against his hands, which were clasped in prayer. She had a feeling his distress had nothing to do with Victor Colt’s death.

“You didn’t have to come,” she’d told him earlier that day. “This whole funeral’s a joke.”

“I wanted to be here for you,” Adam had replied, and that was all. No “he’s in a better place” condolence speech, no “the Absolute is gracious” prayer. He’d always been the first to give words of comfort, and his silence was more than unusual—it was eerie. In fact, he’d barely spoken in the past three days. His distress must have been caused by the news of Jonathan King’s attack at the Presidential Palace, which had broken the same day Dad had died.

She understood why Adam was afraid. After seeing the headline, she’d refused to read any articles or watch any holovids on the matter, figuring she didn’t need another reminder that everything could go to hell. “Adam?”

Adam looked up. “Have they all gone?”

“Yeah.” Jane sat down beside him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just saying a prayer for your father.”

“C’mon, I know it’s more than that. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Adam shook his head. “This is your father’s funeral, and I’m sorry if—”

“You’re sorry?” Jane’s impatience overtook her. “For what? First Devin, now you—why won’t anyone tell me anything?” She stood and crossed her arms. “This is about Jonathan King, isn’t it? I know you’ve kept quiet because the news broke right around when Dad died, but I can’t take this whole still-and-silent thing anymore. So whatever’s on your mind, for freak’s sake, tell me.”

Adam looked away, as though trying to decide what to say. “You’re right. It’s Jonathan King. He… He’s been discovered, and it won’t be long before I’m discovered, too. I shouldn’t have pretended otherwise. I—I shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ominous gloom clouded Jane’s mind.

“We both know you’d be better off without me.” Adam spoke with unexpected firmness. “You have a shot at the life you want, and I’ll only complicate your future. My days are numbered.”

Jane gaped. “Are you breaking up with me?” She wanted to laugh at the absurdity. “I know this Jonathan King business is scary, but you’re being ridiculous. Don’t talk to me until you’ve come to your senses.”

I can’t deal with this! Jane sped away and burst out the temple’s front door. Cold air stung her through her thin black dress. She took a deep breath, hoping the chill would steady her head, and stared at the pale skyscrapers crowding the horizon.

What the hell was that?

Part of her understood Adam’s reasons. She couldn’t go on acting like her life would magically turn out all right. Someday—someday soon—she’d have to face the consequences of loving someone who could never be like everyone else.

She held up her hand and regarded it. Her pale skin was almost transparent from the cold. She wondered how she would feel if those were wires showing through rather than blue veins. I’d still be me. Adam’s still Adam. What does any of this AI nonsense matter?

If Pandora hadn’t realized he wasn’t like her other AIs and decided his independence was a liability, no one would ever have known he was anything other than what he seemed.

Jane heard Adam approach and inhaled moodily. “Let me guess: ‘I have to let you go, Jane. We have to end this before it’s too late, and you have to move on without me.’ Is that about right?”

She turned to face him and immediately regretted her mockery when she saw his hurt expression. At the same time, she wanted to make sure he realized how bizarre his words seemed to her. Had he been any other guy, she would have blinked up at him with her large, dark eyes and played the pretty fool until he agreed to whatever she wanted. But those tricks wouldn’t work on Adam, and she wouldn’t use them on him anyway. She often felt as if she would never fully understand him.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Whatever happened to ‘trust that everything will work out’?”

“Jane, I’m not human.” The bluntness of Adam’s words startled her. “I’ve accepted the… metaphysical part, but I’m still, for lack of a better word, a—a machine.”

“You’re not. C’mon, we’ve been through this.”

“I can’t hide forever, nor should I. I don’t want you giving up anything because of me, and if we keep pretending nothing’s going to happen, I’ll only bring you trouble.”

Jane wondered how she could convince him that she’d meant it when she’d said that in spite of everything, she would make their relationship work. No matter what, I’ll stand by you forever…

“Will you marry me?” Jane shut her mouth, shocked by her own words. What did I just say?

Adam blinked, stunned. “What?”

Jane attempted a joking grin. “Hey, look! You didn’t glitch!”

He stared at her incredulously. “That’s not funny…”

Before Jane had a chance to respond, a great boom shook the air. A scorching gust thrust her back as the sound of shattering glass filled her ears. She closed her eyes, and debris stung her face.

She blinked. Broken glass surrounded her, and she realized she was lying on the ground. She didn’t recall an impact—she must have blacked out for a moment. Gray smoke filled the atmosphere. Through the veil that seemed to have been thrown over her vision, Jane regarded the ground before her in disbelief. The grassy lawn looked as if a giant fiery fist had punched a hole through it. What was that?

She forced herself to stand, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. Her knees stung from cuts, and droplets of blood rolled down her shins. She swiped her hand to wipe some of them away. “Adam?”

Ash covered the ground. Holes gaped where the temple’s windows had been. Adam lay inside, facedown among the shards.

“Adam!” Jane nearly slipped on the broken glass as she rushed toward him.

Adam slowly picked himself up. He turned to her with a look of bewilderment. A line of metal ran across his forehead. Whereas Jane’s arms were smeared with red from her cuts, Adam’s shone with metallic streaks.

Shit! She hurriedly brushed his hair onto his forehead to cover his wound. “It’ll get better. I’ve seen self-healing polymers used in clothes. If fashion houses figured it out, I’m sure Pandora would’ve.”

She glimpsed a black jacket someone had left on one of the pews and rushed to get it. As she ran back to Adam, she heard the fast-approaching wails of sirens. Dammit!

“Here.” She shoved the jacket at him. “Put this on and get outta sight. Hide in the crypt, or go out the back or—just don’t let them see you. Run!”

Adam seemed frozen. He held the jacket in one hand and stared at the shattered glass.

Jane shoved him. “Hey! Did you hear me? Move!”

Adam snapped out of his daze and pulled the jacket on, then ran toward the back of the temple. Jane watched the black and silver Kydera City Police vehicles land outside. She put on a frightened expression, preparing to whine about how she’d been alone and frightened. Ideally, the first responders would be too distracted by her distress to question the truth of her statements.

She suddenly realized she’d been too busy worrying about Adam to acknowledge what had happened. The situation landed like a blow in her mind. Holy shit! Someone tried to bomb me!