The bahay kubo was a squat, square house in the middle of one of the banana plantations, eerily secluded from the rest of the operation. Thatched nipa leaves composed the roof, with woven bamboo mats making up the walls. The workers, I could tell, had been instructed to leave us alone, giving us a wide berth, and the few times they did venture nearby, they spoke low. I nodded at one and smiled, but they looked back with the casual salutation of raising their eyebrows.

Shay and I walked there together. She jumped, plucked one of the bananas from a tree, peeled it, and took a bite. “Sugoi!” she cried, in a mock Japanese accent that resembled a whiny little sister. She knew what she was doing. “I’m gonna get fat here.”

I wanted to say she could use the extra weight, but I kept my mouth shut.

Matthew, Uncle Nestor, and Auntie Havannah were already waiting in the small house. Glasses of coconut water lay around, and Andrei grabbed one first. He slurped it back and, for perhaps the first time since arriving at the plantation, smiled.

Matthew busied himself on a tablet, but at our approach and Auntie Havannah’s prodding, he shut it off and placed it on his lap. He looked like one of those kids raised on smartphones, but I knew he meant well. Besides, I needed him here.

We settled around the small table, and everyone eventually turned to me. It immediately placed me in the world of The Crest and its Killers, Episode 5, when Seskone decided to lead Crystalline. It wasn’t only about knowing when to take the helm. Often, you’d need to find the time and headspace to formulate plans. Six months in my family’s secluded part of the world did that for me. Now, I’d show them all what I had been thinking.

“The main problem with Black Fire is that it’s not easy for our viewers to interact with each other,” I began. “There is little sense of… community, you know? Everyone just enjoys the shows disconnected. Sure, they can go on message boards and talk about what they’ve seen, but they have to do it through VPNs, anonymous web browsers, and throwaway accounts.”

Matthew nodded at me as I said it. I wasn’t too caught up on the technical details, but I understood the broad implications of what we could accomplish. If I screwed anything up, he would tell me. Still, though, I wished I had Reggie’s input on this.

“A huge part of the reason people watch television is to belong to a community. Anyone can stare at a screen all day, but it heightens the feeling when you can talk about what you’ve seen with others. It adds…” I thought about the word “…permanence—a sense of staying power. The tales that persist are not the ones you keep to yourself, but the ones you share with others.”

Auntie Havannah looked up to the ceiling. Maybe she was skeptical, but I wasn’t done yet.

“So, how do we create a community?” I looked at them. “Simple. We bring Black Fire Online.”

I had mentioned my plan individually to each person assembled there but not to everyone at once. I mainly used this time to think out loud, inviting my ideas for criticism. So far, they were all ears.

“We’ll start small,” I began, trying to reassure everyone. “We can have community messaging boards like our own 4Chan and Reddit. Not completely social media networks, but just enough for people to share what they enjoy watching, post reviews, etcetera.”

Matthew prattled his fingers on his chin as if dissecting the idea. I invited that. I wanted him to poke holes. Only then would I know if it was feasible.

I was about to ask what everyone thought so far, but Andrei spoke first. “That’s just more processing power on top of what’s needed to play the shows, right? Can you stream and run the community features at the same time?”

“It is a lot,” said Matthew, hopping in for me, “but the cartridges still run for a few hours after the show. Right? They’re built for that already.” He looked to Auntie Havannah.

“Three hours, minimum,” she replied. “That is time we save for re-runs, which I’m not sure people use as much. The viewing sessions are pretty intense. But, if we gave them some incentive to stay under…”

My mind turned to the Black Fire testers sprawled out in my mother’s room. “The community features don’t have to be very immersive,” I clarified. “Just enough to get people talking and sharing.”

“That doesn’t sound easier on the nanobots,” Shay asked Matthew. “Right?”

Matthew and Auntie Havannah nodded.

Andrei slumped his shoulders, seemingly defeated by the flurry of technical explanations thrown his way. “Sounds like you guys got this figured out,” he said. “Don’t let me rain on your parade.” He still had the same attitude since coming here, but it was subdued. I thought he was being mopey until he asked, “So, why do you need Reggie specifically?”

This question, I knew, was meant to spark a discussion rather than get an answer. Well, it fulfilled its purpose, planting a pang of unease in me.

Uncle Nestor opened his mouth, but I spoke first. “He’s my good friend, Uncle, and he knows more than Matthew does about this.” I looked at my cousin. “No offense.”

Matthew said nothing.

“It’s a good point, though,” Uncle Nestor added. “We have a lot of knowledgeable people who can help create Black Fire Online. And, frankly, Jayson, I don’t want to return to Manila anytime soon.”

Andrei already knew he would be the one to rescue his old friend if it came down to it, so returning to Manila wasn’t even in the cards for Uncle Nestor. But the more significant point remained: why even bother with Reggie?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Thankfully, I had prepared my answer. “He’s an inside man now. He’s been with Metamatics for over six months. He knows what they’re doing, and maybe we can use that.”

“I don’t know how much he would have figured out as a software engineer,” Matthew said.

“But that’s better than nothing, right?”

I could tell from their lack of responses that it was.

“That’ll be useful from a fiction perspective,” Shay added, perking up. “The Crest was good, if I do say so myself, but it’s already ended. You guys are going to need more shows to carry that momentum. So, strictly from that perspective, it would be good to know what Metamatics is up to. That way, we can respond.”

“Maybe he knows a bit about their infrastructure, too,” Matthew said as he considered the situation further. “Also, if Metamatics is working on anything new technology, he might be able to tell us.”

I doubted the second part—Reggie had probably been forced into an intern position.

“Also, the legal aspect,” said Auntie Havannah. “I’m not an expert in that, but if they’ve been blackmailing Reggie or keeping him in any sort of confinement, once he’s safe, he can sue the shit out of them.”

“He helped us deal,” Andrei put in.

“And they kidnapped him in response? A good lawyer will make that petty in comparison.”

We thought in the silence, and during it, I hope Uncle Nestor was convinced.

“Suppose we do this,” he ventured. “Who would go?”

“Me,” said Andrei.

I nodded. That was a given.

“Okay, but who else? I know he’s your friend, but you alone won’t get past whoever is guarding him.” He cleared his throat. “Which leads me to what I wanted to talk about today.”

I looked at Shay and Andrei. They didn’t know about this part yet.

“Since the raid, we’ve been expanding,” Auntie Havannah took over, knowing the most about Black Fire’s distribution. “We have a presence in most cities in the Philippines, but so far, growth has been stagnant.”

“Black Fire Online will help with that,” I put in, championing my idea.

“Sure,” said Uncle Nestor, “but we have to time it correctly. And we have to do it soon.”

“How soon?” Andrei asked. I could detect the question underneath his question, though. He was really asking how soon he could get to Reggie.

“Probably in the next month.”

“Damn.” I looked at Matthew. “Is that going to be enough time?”

He shook his head, though it was slow. “Maybe if you assign every single human being who can operate a computer in this place to BFO, then yeah, it’ll be enough.”

BFO. I liked that term already. “What if we pace out the features?”

“Hmm. Could work. Roll out the most basic stuff first.”

Auntie Havannah took a drink. “We still have to make the hardware,”

“Networking?” asked Matthew. “You have the chips. What else do you need?”

The question hung in the air. I was kind of lost on the specifics, but I thought I understood bits of it. From a hardware perspective, it sounded like we were closer to being prepared than not.

“So it’s possible?” Uncle Nestor asked.

Matthew gave me a tight-lipped thumbs up, which was more than enough confirmation.

“Good,” my uncle continued. “Now, as to getting your friend out, I have some people in the city we can contact.” He spoke to Andrei next. “If you’d like to go, you must be on a plane tonight.”

I hadn’t even been on one of Uncle Nestor’s planes yet. I had to admit I was a little jealous about the opportunity.

Andrei looked ready to stand. “I’m ready now.”

“I see that. Alright. I’ll get you in touch with the people there, and we can start. Real soon.”

This was too cryptic for me. “Who are these people, Uncle?” I asked.

He didn’t hesitate to tell us as if it were just another casual aspect of the operation. “They’re a group in Manila. Their name is something like… the Kalawang Clan.”

I froze. So did Shay.

Andrei, too, didn’t move. He held his glass of coconut water very still as he asked, “Who?”

“We’ve dealt with them before. They helped us push Black Fire in Manila. Don’t worry, they’re reliable. I trust them.”

Andrei placed his drink down. He tried to steady his breathing, but only Shay and I noticed. We had known about Andrei’s past affiliation with the Kalawang Clan, but it had only come up in discussions and Reggie’s repeated mentions of Andrei as “Rusty.” This had to be some insane coincidence.

“Isn’t there anyone else?” I asked.

Uncle Nestor looked puzzled. “Why?”

I turned to Andrei, hoping he would answer.

Instead, he just shook his head. “I just know them.”

“Good,” said Uncle Nestor, oblivious.

I could see the pressure of Andrei’s past pushing him down, his eyes sinking flickering as he scanned his mental landscape for his choices. There was dread in his expression, too, pairing with the reality that he stood at a crossroads. He was weighing the options. His best friend was in Manila, but Andrei would have to work with his old gang to rescue him. That whole past was an iceberg, and I now fully comprehended how much Shay and I had avoided bringing it up. Now, we’d have to face it.

“Just let me know when you’re going,” Andrei said. Just like that, he threw himself to the wolves.

Uncle Nestor was about to open his mouth before I cut in. “Me too.”

Shay cleared her throat. “Well, if you’re going…”

It would have been better if she had stayed here alone, but that looked like the last thing she wanted to do. Yet, who was I kidding? It would be better if I remained here as well. But with our old friend so close to us again, I couldn’t let the chance slip away. I didn’t want to miss it. Besides, if something went wrong, I’d be there to help fix it.

Uncle Nestor shook his head. “You continue to remind me of your father.”

That caught me off guard. I squinted.

“He was stubborn,” Uncle Nestor continued. “But for his friends and family? He would do anything.”