ELEVEN

Sitting together on a train station bench, Kenna and Stewart didn’t speak. Instead, they stared straight ahead.

Kenna appreciated the silence. Guilt and grief combined to make the past several days among the most difficult she’d ever endured. Robbed of the words to explain to Charlie’s family, she’d nonetheless assisted his mother in arranging for his cremation. At the memorial service, his mom had silently squeezed Kenna’s hand. Forgiveness? Understanding? Kenna would never know.

Through it all, Stewart had been steadfast and supportive. He’d listened as she recounted her experiences in Charlie’s fatal VR scenario, as baffled as she was regarding the program’s anomalies and Charlie’s involvement in a clandestine adventure. They, together with Vanessa and the other techs at AdventureSome, had tried to make sense of the situation, but no matter how deeply they dug, they found no answers. At this point, Kenna was simply talked out. She craved anonymity and oblivion. When Stewart announced his errand, she’d volunteered to go along. Where better to blend in than at a busy train terminal? Commuters, travelers, shoppers, and families scurried past against the backdrop of an unceasing procession of long- and short-distance shuttles. Sleek and glistening white, the snakelike monsters slid in and out of Chicago’s Union Station with graceful precision like a reptilian ballet. The trains made slow U-turns behind curved Plexiglas. They stopped long enough to disgorge arrivals and absorb new passengers before shushing off again through dark feeder tunnels. Above the Plexiglas barriers, ever-changing readouts silently displayed gate assignments and departure times.

And on every vertical surface in the station, billboard screens advertised the latest in VR entertainment.

Kenna let her gaze fly from one wall-size display to the next. In concert, dozens of screens presented their ever-repeating ads filled with laughing people of all colors, shapes, sizes, and ages. Every one of them spoke earnestly into the camera.

“Experience the adventure of a lifetime,” they urged in a sea of sincere eyes and bright teeth.

An elderly man with cherry-red cheeks winked. “As often as you want!”

A clean-cut woman in a lab coat and a name tag reading “Doctor” stepped into the frame. Carrying a clipboard and wearing look of satisfaction, she gave her notes a theatrical glance, then smiled at the swell of cheerful people before turning to address the camera herself. “The new 6.0 implant will be available soon. Sign up today to be first in line for the free upgrade when it’s released,” she said. Brightening her smile, she added, “It’s perfectly safe.”

Perfectly safe. Yeah, right. Kenna fingered her silver locket. An engagement gift from Charlie. Her most treasured possession. Her only tangible link to him now.

The last thing Kenna wanted to think about was the pervasiveness of VR, but there was no escaping the animated billboards chanting happy claims from every direction. She couldn’t summon the will to even look away. Instead, she studied the ads, dispassionately estimating that they cycled about every seven minutes. Jason’s train had been delayed, and they’d been here for four rounds already.

Next ad: Simon Huntington: wizened face, youthful energy, sharing the story of his friendship with Vefa Noonan and the tale of their wondrous invention. Everyone, even little kids in school, knew VR’s origin story. Kenna had learned it herself years ago, and mentally recited along with old Simon.

There had been any number of virtual reality gadgets on the market before Simon Huntington and Vefa Noonan came along. They’d expanded on the concept, taking it deeper. First into the realm of education and health care, saving countless lives in the process. That the technology had now morphed into entertainment—becoming Virtu-Tech’s crown jewel—was simply bonus. For both eager consumers and its owners’ bank accounts.

The full advertising cycle wouldn’t be complete without a word from Celia Newell. Vefa Noonan’s only child—and now the powerful president of Virtu-Tech—she smiled into the camera, coolly reminding everyone to come in for free implant upgrades.

“Virtu-Tech and I care about you,” Newell said for the fourth time since Kenna had sat down. She sincerely hoped the trains wouldn’t be further delayed. She didn’t think she could sit through four more iterations.

“You’re sure you don’t want at least a few days off?” Stewart asked, breaking into her reverie. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, thumbs rubbing together.

They’d argued this point several times already. She turned to face him. “Until the diagnostics are complete on AdventureSome’s system, I can’t get into the program to retrace my steps. Keeping busy, even if that means sitting in a train station, waiting to meet this new envoy, is about the only way I’m able to hold myself together.”

“I’m sorry,” Stewart said for at least the hundredth time.

“Not your fault.” Kenna turned her attention back to the ever-rearranging trains. Gliding along on single rails, their movements were shushed in the din of the cavernous station.

“Are you sure there isn’t anyone you can call?” Stewart asked. “To come stay with you?”

“Stay with me for how long, Stewart? Is there a proscribed timeline for grief?”

His cheeks colored.

“Sorry.” Kenna looked away. “No,” she said. “No one to call.”

“Adventure of a lifetime.” The old man with the cherry cheeks winked again. “As often as you want!”

Stewart stared at the floor, nodding. He took a deep breath. “Have you made your appointment with Dr. Baxter?”

Kenna gave a brief nod. “Tomorrow morning.” Yet another hurdle in her path to finding Charlie’s killers: safety protocols required a psych evaluation before Kenna would be allowed to return to envoy duties.

“Before Jason gets here…” Stewart began then stopped.

Kenna waited, tightening her mouth when Stewart faltered. He was the closest thing to family she had. She wanted to curl up and cry into his chest. She wanted him to rock her with strong arms and promise her that things would be okay.

But things would never be okay now that Charlie was dead.

Bright-backlit signs above the third set of tracks announced Jason’s train was due to pull in in two minutes. She moved to stand.

Stewart stopped her with a touch. “Wait,” he said.

The warm feelings she had for her mentor snapped the moment she saw the look on his face. “What?” she asked.

His blue eyes held the same concern they’d had right before she’d gone in to try to save Charlie. Kenna blinked the memory away.

“It’s about the Tribunal, isn’t it? What haven’t you told me?”

He scratched his head, looked away, then finally returned his gaze to meet her stare. “If this new envoy, Jason, doesn’t work out, I may be forced to shutter AdventureSome. At least temporarily.”

“Whoa,” she said, not even attempting to tamp down her anger. “You never said anything about the Tribunal ordering you to close your doors.”

“They didn’t order it. Not in so many words, at least. But the threat is real because, well, Jason was the only applicant for the job.” He winced. “And regulations state that we can’t be open unless we’re fully staffed.”

“What about registry-level temps?” she asked.

“You know what a hassle that can be,” he said. “And with the release of the new 6.0s in the coming months, the shortage of full-time envoys is going to get worse, not better.” He tried to work up a smile. “The good news for you is that—once you’re cleared to get back to work—your skills will be in high demand. Even if we shut down, there will be opportunities for you elsewhere.” Stewart’s eyes sought something in Kenna’s but apparently didn’t find it.

Kenna said nothing.

Stewart’s face tensed and his words came out jerky and flat. “I thought you ought to know,” he said. “I thought it was only fair to tell you.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking up at the train signs again. Jason’s train was due in forty-two seconds. Forty-one. “What’s causing this shortage anyway? Do you know?”

“Fewer people willing to give up VR as entertainment these days,” he said. “And of those who do enter the training program to become envoys, only a small percentage succeed.”

“I guess that’s true,” Kenna said. Charlie had complained about how inescapable VR had become and how envoys were among the last remaining participants who managed to remember that life existed outside the capsule.

She glanced up at the VR ad’s doctor who said, “Perfectly safe.”

A gleaming set of cars slid into its bay. The Plexiglas safety curtain slid up, and the doors opened. Among the disgorging passengers was a fellow with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. About Kenna’s age, he glanced around, his shaved head reflecting the overhead lights. It looked like he was eating something.

“There he is,” Stewart said, waving.

The bald guy cocked a dark eyebrow, then made his way over. He finished chewing, then swallowed. “Hey,” he said. “You must be Stewart. I’m Jason.” Stuffing his half-eaten Flaxibar into the pocket of his duffel bag, he reached out to shake hands. Turning to Kenna, he said, “And you must be my new partner. Nice to meet you.”

“Mm-hmm.” This was so wrong she struggled with pleasantries.

Jason studied her for a moment too long. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Tough times,” she said.

“Yeah, I heard.” His expression sobered. “I’m sorry about your friend Charlie. I know how it is with partners. I won’t try to replace him or anything…”

“Like you could.” Kenna’s tone was bitter.

Stewart laid a hand on her arm. “Charlie wasn’t just Kenna’s friend. He was her fiancé.”

“Geez, Stewart.” Kenna fought for control. “Why not share my whole life story?”

Stewart apologized as Jason’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t know,” Jason said. “I really am sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Kenna gave a brief nod. “Let’s just get going, okay?”

As they made their way to the car, Jason asked about apartments in the area and if Stewart or Kenna had any recommendations. Stewart gave some advice as he drove.

“You’re not taking me to AdventureSome first?” Jason asked when they pulled up to his hotel.

“They’re not letting anybody in,” Kenna said as she turned to face him. “System is completely down.”

Stewart forced a smile. “Only until I get the all clear. My techs assure me they’ll be out of our hair soon. I’ll text you as soon as I know more. Could be as early as tomorrow afternoon.”

“Should have been today,” Kenna said. “I have work to do.”

Jason alighted from the back seat. “Looking forward to getting in there,” he said. “Whenever we can.”

◊

When it was just the two of them in the car again, Stewart turned to her. “Go easy on yourself, Kenna. Please.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”