I faced him. Hard to believe I’d ever found this guy attractive. Not that his features were anything less than perfect—but there was a softness to them, a waxy, malleable quality, like he’d been molded in a factory, the simulacrum of a real live person. Everything about him looked artificial, from his sparkling brown eyes to his artfully tousled hair to his soft, full lips curving up in a sardonic smile. But: He can be as fake as he wants, and he’ll still be more real than me.
“You’re angry,” Ben said.
“You noticed.”
“That’s exactly why you weren’t informed about the tracking.”
“You mean spying.”
“I understand it displeases you. But it’s for your own protection.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He laughed softly. “Of course. All evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.”
The car vibrated beneath us as we lurched off the highway onto a loose gravel road. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“Scenic route,” Ben said. “You and I have a lot to discuss.”
I thought about opening the door and throwing myself out of the car. It would have been a bit melodramatic, but melodrama seemed appropriate. We couldn’t have been going more than fifty or sixty miles an hour—it would be a bumpy landing, but I’d had those before. Thick skin, strong bones, titanium skull, just a few of the benefits of being a mech.
But if call-me-Ben wanted me, he would always know exactly where to find me.
Another of the benefits of being a mech, apparently.
“The doors are locked,” Ben said.
“No problem.” I gave him a placid smile. “I’m getting used to being a prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner, Lia.” Ben sighed and leaned back in his seat. He laced his fingers together, inverted his hands, palms facing out, then stretched his arms with a satisfied groan. “You’re just possibly the solution to a sticky little problem we’ve been having.”
“I doubt that. What do you want?”
“Your friend Jude,” Ben said.
I don’t have friends, I was about to say, then stopped myself. Friends were for orgs, just like family. I didn’t know what Jude was to me—an ally, a protector, an antagonist—none of the old categories fit. He was simply like me.
I smirked at Ben. “Last I checked, he’s not mine to give.”
“I want the name of his BioMax contact.” Ben’s voice was steely.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let me tell you what I know, Lia.” His features were still just as soft, but his voice, his eyes, were hard. “I know Jude has an inside source at BioMax. That he’s stealing information and technology. I also know that Jude was supposed to meet his contact at Synapsis Corp-Town this week, but he sent you instead. For the first time. And just as you arrive…” Ben shook his head. “That’s some seriously bad timing, don’t you think?”
No more secrets. That was all I could think. Not when they were watching.
“How do you know?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
Ben made a sound like a buzzer. “Wrong question, Lia.”
I wanted him to stop saying my name. There was a little twist in his voice, a glint in his eye, each time he formed the syllables. Like the name was a secret between us. Like he was silently saying, We both know you’re not really Lia Kahn. But I’ll play along if you will.
I waited.
“Why didn’t he go himself?” Ben asked. “Why did he need you to go? What did he really want?”
I saw where he was going. I’d already gotten there myself. Jude was the one who’d sent me to BioMax, it followed he was the one most likely to have set me up. But he wasn’t the only one who’d known about the corp-town trip. Jude’s BioMax contact knew too. And he’d known enough not to show. Call-me-Ben wanted me to believe Jude had set me up—and so, for the first time, I started to think maybe he hadn’t.
“He must really scare you guys,” I said. “Afraid he’ll turn us against you?”
Ben arched an eyebrow. “‘You’ orgs?”
“‘You’ BioMax.” I was spinning through the possibilities as quickly as I could. BioMax knew where we were at all times—they had all they needed to set us up. But why go to the trouble and then whisk me away from the secops? Why do it in the first place?
He burst into laughter. “Lia, as far as I’m concerned, if Jude were who he claimed to be, he’d be a hero. Our BioMax clients need someone like him, to ease the transition into life postdownload.” His eyes were gleaming, his movements loose and free, as if some part of him usually tamped down was breaking out. “All that stuff about mechs being superior, about this technology being the dawn of a new era for humanity… if I didn’t believe that, why would I work for BioMax in the first place?”
“Great, so Jude’s a hero,” I said sourly. Maybe they were all working together. “Where’s the problem? You want me to arrange a meet-and-greet?”
“I said he would be a hero,” Ben reminded me. “If a tidy little confidence boost was all he was after. But it’s not.”
“How would you know?”
“Wrong question again,” Ben said with another buzzing noise. “What does this boy really want? Have you even bothered to ask? Or is it easier to just smile and nod and accept whatever he says as gospel?”
“You know me,” I said with as much fake sweetness as I could muster. “Always going with the flow.”
“You really think you’re all a bunch of rebels, don’t you?” he asked, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. “And what, exactly, are you rebelling against?”
“I don’t know,” I mused. “How about stalker corps that get off on spying on us?”
Nothing ruffled him. He just drummed his hands on the smoky glass of the window, adopting a philosopher’s tone. “‘Us.’ Interesting word, that. And who would ‘us’ be, in this scenario?” He ticked the options off on his fingers. “We’ve got Jude, who appears out of nowhere and charms himself into the heart of, among others, Quinn Sharpe, heir to one of the country’s largest fortunes. Not to mention Ty Marian, Anders Prix, Lara Pirendez—none of them in Sharpe territory, certainly, but not too shabby. Sloane Beignet—I’m told you were responsible for bringing her in. And then there’s Lia Kahn. Whose parents have yet to part with any of their credit—but, if and when they do, will, I’m sure, be donating to the cause.”
“What are you getting at?” I knew what he was getting at.
“I’m just wondering whether it’s a coincidence that so many of your friend Jude’s nearest and dearest acolytes are swimming in credit.”
“It’s no coincidence,” I snapped. “So we’re rich—so what?” Not wanting to admit that I’d had the same thought myself. But Quinn had donated her credit freely—they all had—so we could live as we wanted to live. Jude pays me back in other ways, she’d told me once. And not just me, all of us. It’s not like Jude reveled in the luxury—there seemed to be little that he actually wanted for himself. “The download costs. We’re all rich.”
“Not all of them,” Ben said pointedly. “At least, they didn’t used to be.”
“That’s really what you want to talk about?” I said. Daring him. “The ‘volunteers’?” He could hear it in my voice, that I knew better.
“You’re so quick to distrust BioMax,” he said smoothly, shifting gears. “And yet so quick to put your faith in someone like Jude. Do you know anything about this boy? Where he came from, who he was before the download?”