Chapter 33

“Janus,” Williams says.

I’ve been sitting silent for a minute. If my dad was her mentor, did Williams pull the trigger on my dad? I try to keep my head in the game. I need to find Peter, free him, and then get us both out of here.

“Sorry,” I say, forcing a smile. “Let’s do this.”

The car doors open for a second time and I reach back to pluck the phone from the cup holder where she’d placed it. It’s too dangerous for me to try anything right now, but I may have a chance later.

What I do know is that I don’t want in. The gang offers mentorship, belonging, money, and a certain kind of education; I can see myself here—and that frightens me. I can also see my father here. But over the past couple of days my proudest moments were my friends coming together with me and, strangely enough, the creation of all the silly jewelry. What have I missed lately? Not Shadownet; in many ways, I’ve set it free. I’ve missed my mom. I’ve missed coding—creating.

It’s time to stop Williams, them, all of this.

We enter a broad foyer. The place is cool. Totally geeked out. A huge replica of the Millennium Falcon hangs where a chandelier should be. Lights under its fuselage shine down as if coming in for a landing. A full-size Storm Trooper stands beside a winding stairway, the ascending steps inlaid with circuit boards. In a border around the ceiling run lengths of chain. It’s like Geek Pinterest barfed everywhere. Scattered about the room on pedestals aren’t sculptures, but rather ancient computers, the first iPhone, and old model BlackBerries.

“Most of those are from your father,” Williams says.

“So cool.” I can’t help myself.

“Just wait until you see the NOC. Command and control for a botnet of almost a million machines.”

NOC—Network Operations Center. Jonny was right, there is more beneath here.

Williams leads me through a kitchen heaped with bags of chips, Cheezies, nachos, bottles of beer and alcohol, and stacks of pizza boxes from A ZaZa. Maybe they have a different recipe for orders from the mansion. And it is a mansion. Off the kitchen is an enormous living room with a stone fireplace. In the middle of the room, a massive stone chimney rises to the ceiling. I’d mistaken it for a turret. Central to the fireplace is a big spool of heavy chain and a bolt cutter. Chain of the same type left on the ground in front of Assured Destruction.

Around the fireplace, a motley group fills sofas and armchairs. Guys dressed in sharp suits. Bikers in leather, some muscled, others with heavy guts. And then the geeks in T-shirts and jeans. About one in ten is female, which is surprising; I figured it would have been all male. I spot Ponytail and he looks through me. Who I don’t see is Peter.

How am I going to escape my chaperon to search for him?

“Whoa,” I say, spotting the replica Iron Man armor. “I bet Halloween’s fun around here.”

Williams, placing her hand on my shoulder, announces: “Most of you have seen this one snooping around, but please officially welcome Janus Rose.”

Some people slow clap, a few raise beer steins. Others have their heads buried in phones or tablets.

A man in a silver suit, wearing Google Glass and sitting in a big, egg-shaped armchair, raises his arm and points at Williams. A gold chain, like the kind a mayor might wear as a signet of office, glints around his chest.

“Janus,” the mayor spreads his arms, “welcome to Bitchain.” I clench all my muscles, resisting the urge to shudder. “The chain,” he lifts his in his hands, “it represents more than the 1’s and 0’s of binary code.”

I almost blurt out—so that’s it! The answer to why the weird business names. You can make the letters A, U, Z, with 0–1 combinations using different lengths of chain.

“The chain,” the mayor continues, “is a binding. It’s an important day for all of us here. Today is when all the links of the chain come together. We are strong because we are linked and stay linked. There is no anonymity. Also, today, Williams earns a link on her chain. You.”

Williams shoots a cuff to show me a heavy gold bracelet like the mayor’s long necklace, but with only a few gold links.

“You are a part of her chain,” the mayor continues, “just as the links you earn will be a part of hers.”

“Sorta like that makeup company—Amway, right?” I ask. Or a pyramid scheme, I suppose, but I keep that to myself.

There’s silence and then suddenly half the links burst out in laughter.

“Yes, like Amway,” the mayor says, chuckling, but his eyes glint and the smile quickly fades. “There are reasons why Amway works. They form a family.”

The mayor’s hand sweeps his audience. “And today, Janus Rose, you have the opportunity to join this family.”

Blood rushes to my face. Too fast. This is happening too fast.

“Initially you’ll be asked to run errands, write simple exploits, and maintain equipment,” he explains. “Once you’ve earned your first link, you’ll begin generating your own revenue, which is shared with the chain.”

The future he sees whizzes by. I want to ask: And if I don’t become part of the family? If I don’t earn links? What happens then? But I already know the answer. He shuffles closer to me but never breaks eye contact as he speaks.

“Do you, Janus Rose, agree to keep Bitchain secret? To recruit new links and to think in terms of the entire chain and not simply your link?”

He stops abruptly.

OMG.

The silence lengthens. He wants my response.

“Wow,” I say and a few people snort. “Okay—”

A man stands and shakes his head. “No.”

If Williams hadn’t grabbed my shoulder, I’d have fallen over. It’s Fenwick. This is where he fled after I set his house on fire. He must have been pumping serious kettlebells because ropey muscle emerges from beneath his short sleeves.

“Jan, no trust,” he says in his broken English. “Father break chain.”

He’s not the only one unconvinced of my pledge. Maybe a dozen are nodding along.

“Hey … uh …” I gulp, and continue: “Some of you are probably thinking. This is James’s kid, didn’t he betray us? Well … I am his daughter, and the only reason he turned on you was to protect his family. I’m doing this to protect my family too. And …” MICE, I think. How can I use it to convince them? “And I’m tired of being poor. And scraping by. My school has turned me out. The police have turned me out. The bank can take Assured Destruction at the end of the month and I know you can put a stop to that.” The best lies are the truth.

“She worked with the spook,” a biker type says.

“I’m better than half of you, I bet,” I add.

“Take the spook to the farm,” snaps a man so large I’d mistaken him for a stuffed grizzly bear.

It only takes me three seconds to understand what he is talking about. I’ve been to this farm.

“Don’t shoot him,” I say and Fenwick nods like he’s vindicated.

“Give me one good reason why not,” the mayor replies.

And here’s my plan: I give them what they want. The final piece in my recruitment. The chains.

“Because I want to do it,” I say.

“You?” the mayor asks.

“I was going to call Peter—the spook—out on Darkslinger—it’s why he told everyone that I was with the cops.”

There’s laughter, but I know it rings true.

“Listen. Not long ago I held a gun to a man’s head. I didn’t pull the trigger. I should have. I want a second chance to finish a job.”

This will give them the ultimate goods on me. I’ll be theirs for life. And it’ll buy Peter and maybe both of us an opening. A few still look unconvinced.

One of the holdouts nods.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Jan?” Williams asks. The concern on her face appears genuine. “It’s one thing to join, wholly another to pull a trigger.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

A black hat with a skull and chain lies on a side table.

“All right,” the mayor says. As he closes the distance between us, he flips up the hat, and then puts it on my head himself.

Who says I suck at speeches?

“I’m comin’,” Ponytail says. He looks gray. “Wanna make sure this ain’t no trick.”

Suddenly a tablet geek glances up from his screen.

“Someone’s firebombed U Technical.”

That’s when everyone looks back at me.