“I just need one night alone,” Bryce uttered. “Do you think you can do that for me?”
The Q-90 drone buzzed beside him, its tiny frame gyrating like an impatient pixie. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”
Bryce wasn’t surprised by the counteroffer. First, Metamatics had him in their grip, and then the albularyo. But with its omnipresent eye on his every move, he’d rather placate the AI than deal with the fallout from Metamatics.
“It’s only for tonight,” Bryce told it, “and yeah, maybe I can get something out of it.”
“Oh! Don’t hurt the poor girl.”
Bryce scowled, but it was difficult to deny what the AI implied.
Maybe, all along, he was the problem.
----------------------------------------
Manila’s tourism staff had erected a tented village around Ayala Station, closing the nearby streets and filling them with food vendors, actors portraying a 16th-century French masquerade, and synth-drones hovering above. Their speakers blended local Filipino pop-folk with Victorian-era strings as if the music had been plucked from history and dropped into urban Philippines.
Bryce’s chest swelled with pride as he rewatched Janice’s interview with President Atienza on his wearable, the footage projected in open augment. Her questions were sharp and unyielding, her expression calm, even as the President’s face tightened—a telltale sign she’d hit a nerve.
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d be showing me off already.”
I didn’t, either, thought Bryce, as Janice’s auto-Grab pulled up on the side of Paseo de Roxas. He performed his gentlemanly duties, opening the door for her, embracing her, and planting a kiss on her forehead. For a moment, as they stood close, Bryce could almost forget about Hannah. Lately, every time his ex-wife’s image crept into his mind, reminding him that she was also in Manila, Janice’s presence replaced it.
Where Hannah had been aloof and fiercely independent, Janice was the right blend of assertive when needed, yet dependent on his care and attention when they were together. It was as if Janice could flip a switch, seamlessly transitioning between strong-willed and vulnerable, making her all the more captivating to Bryce. This starkly contrasted with Hannah, who had always seemed like a raging storm that never cleared or a sullen rainy morning without a break.
Bryce guided Janice onto the sidewalk, taking a moment to admire her as she stepped into the glow of the streetlights. She wore a modest yet stunning blush pink dress that fell just below her knees, with long sleeves and a high neckline. The lace trim added a touch of elegance, and her pearl earrings and simple bracelet completed the look with understated grace.
“Did I buy you all that?” Bryce joked, taking her by the arm. He almost had to kneel to reach her.
The question was silly and unfair, but Janice fought it off. “You know, they paid us for those interviews.”
“Damn! Maybe they gave you less, seeing as you essentially floored Atienza.”
“Hay nako.” She rubbed her forehead. “Am I ever going to live that down?
Probably not, Bryce thought. This could be the start of Janice’s career. He wouldn’t be surprised if she already received a few offers for news outlets across Manila.
But Bryce’s thoughts couldn’t stay on Janice’s future for long. His mind drifted back to the interview with Reggie and the name the boy had mentioned.
Bryce had heard the name from Janice a few times: once at Apo’s Reach, offhandedly, and another when she texted him. It hadn’t meant anything back then; it was just the name of a boy growing up in Janice’s same tough life. Their circumstances made Bryce feel better about supporting Janice and sending her money. At least, this way, he was helping someone else.
“Jayson,” Reggie had said during their interview. “He’s kind of the reason we’re all in this.”
Bryce pondered the name. He assumed it was spelled the same way that Janice had texted it, the ‘Y’ denoting it wasn’t English. It seemed so ordinary, so typical.
The bigger question was the wealth. Janice had not come from fortunate circumstances, while whoever was pushing Black Fire was clearly well off. That was a fact Bryce could not connect to Janice or anyone she knew. She wouldn't need Bryce's support if her brother were indeed that rich.
He checked the data on his wearable, reviewing the reports from other field agents across the city. Even Ms. Reed had lent her expertise.
He checked the numbers in his wearable, from a report the other field agents across the city had submitted.
54,000 consecutive viewers.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“Viewers,” not users or addicts. Black Fire was a drug because it altered brain chemistry, but it was actually technology, too. Was television considered a drug if it was wired directly to your brain?
54,000 users at one time. And that didn’t include those who weren’t using it at the moment. How many vape cartridges lay dormant throughout the city? What was the actual usage rate?
That would have to come later. For now, he had to worry about “Jayson.”
Jayson… Jayson… No, it didn’t make sense. How could Bryce not have known if his girlfriend was related to a Black Fire pusher—and an important one?
He felt a flash of betrayal, as if Janice had kept some dark secret from him. She was his girlfriend for God’s sake! How could she do this?
But then he remembered how private she was and how they had agreed to keep their relationship low-key due to the age difference. He might have discovered more if he had been more open with her.
Still, how many people in Manila were named “Jayson?” He needed more concrete information, not just coincidences and gut feelings. Intuition could be correct, but when it was wrong, the consequences could be disastrous.
Bryce didn’t want this to be one of those times.
They walked closer to Ayala Triangle Station, joining the lines forming outside the pyramid of clear glass that denoted the subway station underneath Makati. All development companies had opposed digging underneath Makati, but enough money from the convergence convinced them otherwise. No matter where people were in Manila, they needed to move.
Janice came to life among the flashing floodlights, the neon evening, and for a moment, Bryce was back with Lava Locks in the rave. She captured a different energy from Hannah, one that Bryce had learned he should have valued all along.
He pulled her close when the crowds closed in, and he tried not to think of her brother named Jayson.
She hugged him back tighter.
A swarm of selfie drones surrounded them as a vlogger approached, her fingers playfully forming a finger gun under her chin. “You two look great!” she yelled, then looked up at Bryce. “He’s so tall!”
He earned a playful scowl from Janice before the vlogger fluttered off, waving, her glow-up Adidas pulsing like broken Christmas bulbs.
With Janice beside him, Bryce felt taller than he had ever been.
“This was a good idea,” Janice said, her eyes wide with excitement, reminiscent of a tarsier—a look her friends teased her about. Bryce found it endearing.
Ayala Triangle Station was now overrun by influencers, politicians, celebrities, journalists, and the lucky few who made it past the marquee. The atmosphere was like an exclusive club, with grass underfoot and a mix of sandals, summer dresses, jeans, and flip-flops among the crowd. Some shot glow-in-the-dark jelly bubbles into the air, singing to the music pumping from the fly-by synth drones.
Janice playfully asked for a picture, holding the phone in the old-fashioned way. Her height while she snapped the photo made it more evident how Bryce always towered over her.
However, as she showed him the photo, his mind turned from it to the device in her hand. Had she contacted Jayson lately? Did she know how to reach him?
“Yo!” yelled a bouncer over a bass beat. He motioned them over with two fingers, holding a red marquee in one hand.
“They recognize you!” yelled Janice over the pop-EDM track. “You should go!”
“Journalist girl!” yelled the bouncer. “Here!”
Janice blushed.
“You really will never live that down!” Bryce told her. “Come on!” He squeezed her hand.
They ran past the marquee, joining the vlogger from earlier and a few others who had managed to slip through. Beyond, the space opened up, leading down to the escalators, where more bouncers gestured for them to descend. The railings glowed, and the steps shimmered underfoot.
They entered the cavernous space carved out for Ayala Triangle Station, a testament to the Inspiration Convergence’s influence. Originally slated for completion in twenty years, the streaming giants’ thirty-billion-dollar investment had shortened the timeframe to just five years. The station blended glass, chrome, and indigenous art, the latter the only indication of any local culture.
Bryce led Janice through the turnstiles, catching her squeal of excitement as they emerged on the other side. As they descended another set of escalators to the platform, Janice’s eyes widened in delight. “That’s Jen & Jen!” she screamed, pointing at the all-girl nine-piece band playing on the platform. Others around them caught on, and the crowd surged forward, pressing them closer to the stage.
The platform glowed serenely as Jen & Jen began their set with “Autumnal,” a haunting melody about time, forgiveness, and the inevitability of change. Bryce’s thoughts drifted to Hannah, to their choices and the lives they had left behind.
But Janice’s warmth against his chest brought him back to the present. He thought about staying here, leaving Metamatics for good, and beginning a life with Janice away from all of this. The idea of becoming a “passport bro,” of marrying her and starting anew, felt appealing. In those fleeting moments, he forgot about his mission.
But when the cold weight pressed against his legs, reality snapped back into focus.
Janice’s right jacket pocket nudged against him, her smartphone unmistakable inside.
He had to know. This could be the break he’d been searching for, the key to finishing the mission.
But it would also drive a wedge between him and Janice.
He paused, swaying her gently, entirely in his control, and seeing for what seemed like the first time the gaps between them, the ages that didn’t just span decades but centuries.
Who was he kidding? He wasn’t cut out for this. He was too old for her. He was destined for a life of being alone, and if he was going down that route, he needed to be comfortable. He had to finish the mission and get the payout no matter what
In a dancer’s grip, in a feign for closeness that turned into an embrace, Bryce kept his hand still as he withdrew the smartphone from Janice’s pocket and dropped it in his own. She hadn’t moved an inch.
She trusted him completely.