14 – Spark
When Addie and Tony arrived on Boxer Boulevard, the street fair was already well underway. Standing on the corner, she turned to Tony, ready to say some parting words, but his gaze was panning left to right, taking in the busy scene. Boxer corpo-sec were out in full force, keeping the revelry “peaceful,” but that didn’t take away from the wildness of the crowd. It was one of the few days of the year when people were encouraged to let loose, and everyone’s struggles with making ends meet weren’t front and center on their minds.
Boxer gave all their employees ten “credit” chips, each of which could purchase a beer or a food item at “food truck alley.” Not everyone was a Boxer employee—Addie and Bert were a case in point—but the food trucks were priced reasonably, subsidized by Boxer as a gift to the community they took advantage of all year round. That being said, it was a carnival mood in the air as people walked around sloshing their cups of beer, munching on pizza slices, burgers, tacos, churros, and a hundred other eclectic foods.
The assault on Addie’s senses made it hard not to smile and join in on the festive mood—the smell of fried dough was intoxicating, the music in the air from street corner performers was lively, and the big portable amber floodlights complimented the bright neon from the open businesses nearby. She watched as Tony slowly began to smile, and when he looked down at her, Addie wished he wasn’t wearing those sunglasses; she wanted to see the emotion in his eye. “This is wild!”
“Yeah! Do you want to get something to eat before you go to the gym?”
Tony shook his head. “Nah, I don’t want a full stomach when I fight. Hopefully, I won’t get beaten up too badly and can walk around afterward.” He chuckled as he spoke, but Addie wondered how serious he was. How could he compete with trained fighters when he was missing an eye? He was quick and obviously knew a thing or two, but some of those guys were monsters sponsored by their gangs—given augs, training, and a steady diet of stimulants and other metabolic concoctions.
“Are you going to the gym now, then?”
He nodded, hefting his change of clothes. “Yeah. I’ll head over and warm up. I want to watch some of the fights before mine.”
“Six-thirty, right?”
“Yep!” He smiled crookedly at her. Earlier, she’d seen how his face had fallen when he thought she’d miss his fight, and though it wasn’t really her thing, she liked how it had cheered him up when she said she’d come.
“I’ll be there, Tony. Good luck!”
He nodded toward her backpack. “Gonna have Humpty record me?”
She smiled. “Might as well.”
“That’s great; I’ll be able to see what I do wrong. Sometimes it’s hard to notice your mistakes when you’re in it, you know?” He was practically yelling to be heard over the trio of long-bearded musicians on the corner. One was belting a fast-paced country song while the other two accompanied him with an electric guitar and a virtual DJ setup. The DJ was entertaining just to watch, regardless of the music—hands slapping the air around him to generate wild percussive beats.
“Okay! See you after.” Addie waved, and Tony nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sauntering across the street—traffic was blocked off and detoured around the fair. She turned down the sidewalk and meandered through the various street displays. Over the years, she’d worked a table during the Boxer Day fair a few times, but her dad didn’t like bringing valuable stuff out to the street, and he thought trying to sell a bunch of low-value items to pay the vendor fee wasn’t worth the effort.
Still, they tried to support the business owners who did, and, for her part, Addie spent a few minutes perusing the tables while she waited for Jamal to contact her; she was hoping she might meet with him before Tony’s fights so she wouldn’t have to worry about missing him. Glancing at her AUI, she saw the softly glowing 5:35 and tried to relax; she still had time.
Despite her desire to wander and get a snack, she stopped to stand in line at the table in front of Dino’s Chrome Warehouse—they were sponsoring a raffle, and she was willing to pay five bits for a chance to win something nice. She stood there for several minutes, slowly moving forward, before she realized she knew the woman in front of her. Yolanda Villegas wasn’t exactly a friend, but Addie had gotten to know her a few years back when she’d tried to do a story about burglaries on Howard Avenue. She leaned close and asked, “Hey, Yolanda. How’s the shop doing?”
The woman turned, self-consciously smoothing her long braided ponytail as she tried to figure out who had spoken her name. She smiled when she locked eyes with Addie, flashing big, bright teeth and deep dimples. “Addie! It’s good, girl! We got a contract with Boxer for uniform shirts, so we’re looking to expand into the space next door. How’s the news biz?”
Addie smiled and shrugged. “It’s an uphill battle, but I think I’m starting to get my name out there. Some people are a little more willing to talk to me, you know?”
“Good, girl, good! You gotta keep plugging away at it—we’ve been making clothes for twenty years now, and for most of those, we felt like we were on the edge. My mom don’t give up, though, you feel?”
“Heck yeah, I feel. Mama Villegas is a legend in the district.”
Yolanda’s eyes lit up at the compliment, and she leaned close to whisper, “Hey, did you see that spark they brought in?”
“Spark?”
“Yeah, bona fide! Not a glint, not a gleam—este cabrón was doing some real shit, mija. You need to go check him out. ’Course Boxer’s charging an entry fee, but it’s just five bits. He’s at Madeline’s.”
“In the bookshop?”
“That’s right. Here, sweetie, I’ll put your name on this raffle. Flick me five bits.”
“You’d do that?” Addie felt a warm flutter in her stomach—since when was she the kind of person who got favors for nothing?
“Of course I will. It’s nothing. Go on now; I’ll send you your raffle number.”
“Thank you, Yolanda!”
“Yoli, chica. You and me are friends.” She grinned again, showing off those nice teeth.
“Okay, Yoli. Thank you!” With a final smile and a nod, she turned and hurried across the street. Madeline’s Used Books was only half a block away, and she was eager to see what had impressed Yolanda—Yoli—so much. Addie had never met anyone claiming to be a spark. As she drew near the bookshop, she stepped up close to a building, sheltering beside the stoop, and shrugged off her backpack; if she was going to meet a real spark, she wanted some footage.
“JJ, how’s my Dust?”
The usual grainy, flickering window appeared in her vision:
Dust Purity: Impure -
Dust Capacity: 27/30
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Nice,” she murmured, lifting Humpty out of her pack. “JJ, initiate Dust link.”
“Initiating.” Like always, Addie felt her Dust reactor begin to vibrate softly at the center of her chest. She felt the familiar, tingling, pulling sensation as it sent Dust coursing toward her head and out through the matrix, establishing an invisible link with the drone. Best of all, she felt her awareness expand as it made the connection to the little drone’s Dust engine.
“Okay, Humpty, let’s go see what this is about.” She set the drone to shadow her, a program she’d taught it years ago—it would hover a few feet over her shoulder, assuming the ceiling height would allow for that, and follow her wherever she went, recording constantly. If she wanted something more precise, it would be as easy as a thought to flick her concentration over to the drone.
She hurried into the bookshop, but not before she saw the poster on the door—purple with silver holopaint—showing a man dressed in a stylish black suit conjuring flickering blue flames in the palm of his hand. The floating words on the top of the poster said, “Zane the Conjurer, Dust Magician Extraordinaire – 1 credit or 5 bits.”
Addie pulled the door open, not too surprised to find the crowd inside relatively small; the people of the Blast were far more interested in cheap food, beer, music, and fights than a supposed “magician.” When she stepped forward to the flex-ribbon barrier, Madeline, herself, stood ready to stamp her wrist upon payment. The shop owner was her father’s generation and a very sweet lady. When she saw Addie, she smiled hugely, exposing her signature diamond-studded incisor. “Adelaide! Where’s Bertie?”
“He’s coming—moving a little slow thanks to a sore foot, but I’m sure he’ll stop by.”
“Okay, hon. Here, let me see your hand. Entrance fee’s on me.”
Addie held out her left hand, and Madeline took it, gently pressing her ink-stamp against her flesh. It left behind a royal-blue paperback book. Madeline didn’t get many books like that in her shop, mainly dealing in rare internet-era pub and audio files, but she had a few shelves of them. Addie always loved how the shop had a unique smell as a result—books mingled with the coffee and fresh-baked treats Madeline sold on the side. “You don’t have to cover my fee, Mad—”
“Nonsense! Bert would never charge me an entrance fee, and there’s no way I’d charge you. Now, after this fair business is over, I’d love for you to stop by because I think I have something that’ll interest you.”
“Oh?”
“Oh yes! I got a data chip in with very rare footage from civil-rights-era protests. I think you might find the journalists rather fascinating to watch. The chip’s copy-protected, but I’ll let you watch it if you want before I put it up for auction.”
“Really? Madeline, I’d love that. We’re talking like the…nineteen eighties, right?”
“Sixties, sweetie.”
“Wow! That’s pre-internet! Where’d you get it?”
Madeline winked at her, her chromatic iris shimmering from yellow to blue to purple. “There are a few of us old geezers out there collecting scraps here and there. We won’t let the world forget everything.”
Addie grasped her hand between hers. “Thank you so much! I’ll come soon, okay?”
“Yep! Now go see the magician; he’s something else.”
Addie nodded and continued into the store, past a rack of vintage e-readers, then around a shelf full of ancient board games. Madeline’s Books had a sizeable area set aside for “Reader’s Haven” meetings where people came to talk about books they all read or to listen to someone read aloud. Addie had come a few times, but most of the members were quite a lot older than she was, and though she had a good time, she generally found herself too busy with her other pursuits.
For that particular Boxer Day, the Reader’s Haven was set up as it would be for a book reading—rows of folding chairs facing a “stage” area, which was just a bit of cleared carpeting in front of one of Madeline’s authentic bookshelves. The man from the poster, the one in the stylish suit, stood there, facing ten or so members of the populace—mostly moms with their kids. As Addie took a seat, watching him the whole while, he held out his hand, and, just as on the poster, a flickering blue flame came to life, seemingly burning directly from the flesh of his palm.
The kids exclaimed in excitement, but most of the adults were less than impressed; there were a hundred pieces of tech that could pull off the same result. The crowd’s tepid reaction didn’t daunt the magician. He waggled his blond eyebrows, his bright, hazel eyes twinkling, and then his entire hand vanished. Addie’s stomach did a flip, and she knew her face drained of color. Was he a fade?
Seconds later, the magician’s hand reappeared, and he laughed, “Almost lost it that time!”
“Again!” one little girl cried.
“Oh? Again?” he tipped his magician’s hat, and, this time, his entire body vanished. One second, he’d been standing before the crowd, and the next, he was simply gone.
“Tricks!” one dad said, chuckling. “He’s just a holo.”
“Yeah, this is boring,” his little boy said. “Let’s go to the—” His words stopped short as the magician reappeared, this time in the seat beside him.
“Hello,” the magician laughed with a wink. Then he poked the little boy in the cheek. “Feel like a holo to you?”
The little boy stared, mouth agape, eyes wide, and the magician laughed, waggled his fingers, and then vanished again. The dad cussed, and though some of the moms scolded him, Addie couldn’t blame him. She was in shock. Was the guy a full-blown fade? Why wasn’t he insane? Suddenly, the magician was back on the carpeted stage, and he bowed with a flourish of his arm. Standing, he announced, “I’m afraid I have to save some Dust for my other shows, so I can only perform one more feat of magic today. I’ll let you all choose, though, okay?”
“Okay!” one little girl enthusiastically cried. Addie giggled—she could relate.
“I’ll tell you the options. Think about them carefully before you choose! Option one: the spooky, dangerous Dust phantoms! Option two: the freaky, mind-bending mirror image! Option three: the brain-breaking, world-renowned time glitch! Or, option four: the stomach-turning, barf-inducing, gravity twist! Before you choose, keep in mind that I’m not responsible for your sanity! Go ahead, talk amongst yourselves.” With that, he turned to pick up a drink container, tilting it toward his mouth.
The children were babbling, and some of the adults joined in on the discussion, but Addie just watched the magician. He was certainly handsome, and his suit probably cost more than most of the stock in her dad’s store, but there was something more to him, something that was a little intangible, that drew her attention. He had some…gravity, she decided was the right word. He had a certain weight to him. Oddly, he reminded her of Tony, and she couldn’t quite figure out why.
She was staring intently, and the magician must have felt it because he looked her way after he set his drink down. When their eyes met, he winked, and Addie looked away, feeling heat rising on the back of her neck. Why had she been staring? She was so mortified that she almost got up and left, but then the magician started speaking. His attention clearly wasn’t on her, so she began to relax. “Okay, which one of you little magician’s apprentices will pick my final trick?”
All the kids clamored for the right to choose, and finally, the magician went through an elaborate game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe, settling on the little girl who’d earlier cried out, “Okay!”
“Gravity twist!”
The kids cheered, and Addie smiled. It sounded like an interesting one to her, too. “Oho! Are you sure? I hope you didn’t eat too much for dinner!” The magician held his arms outstretched, and, to Addie’s amazement, particles of glowing amber light—like glowing dust—began to stream from his palms and flow out among the crowd, gathering a few centimeters above the floor. Was it Dust? Was he channeling pure Dust into the air? How could he control it out there without a matrix?
Suddenly, Addie’s stomach flipped, and, to her horror and delight, she and her chair began to lift off the ground. She was tickled at first, but then she felt her stomach lurch again. Judging by the squeals and giggles from the kids and adults alike, she wasn’t the only one. “Ready for the twist?” the magician yelled.
Several kids and adults screamed, “No!”
The magician laughed, and as suddenly as it had started, the weird lack of gravity faded, and everyone’s chairs slowly fell back to the ground. Addie’s stomach settled, but she still felt woozy. “That’s it for now, folks! Thanks for coming. Be sure to buy something on your way out.” The magician lifted his drink canister again, but to Addie’s horror, he walked through the chairs toward her. She stood, thinking she might slip away before he spoke to her, but it was impossible; he stared at her the entire time he approached.
She almost laughed at herself; why was she wanting to flee? She was a journalist, wasn’t she? Was it just because she’d thought he was handsome? Was it because it felt like he’d somehow caught her staring? Wasn’t he putting himself on display? It wasn’t strange that she’d been staring! When he stopped less than a meter from her chair, Addie stood and forced a friendly smile. “That was great.”
“Thanks so much! I don’t normally…perform, but the company said it was time I did some community outreach, so…” He doffed his hat and performed another bow.
“Well, I was impressed. Those were, um—were those really Dust tricks? I mean, you don’t have a gravity generator hidden around here or something, do you?”
“Hah! You know better. You saw the Dust, right?”
“The, uh, sparkly streams?”
His eyes seemed to glimmer as he nodded. “Yep. I knew you had to be at least a glint.”
“Wait, what?”
He put his hat back on and cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” Addie felt like she was the butt of a joke but had no clue what it was.
“I mean, normal folks can’t see Dust, sister.”