Aiden was lying on his bed watching a live recording of the international ziv-ball championship when Markus called.

He lowered the volume on the wall-mounted monitor and answered: “Penis enlargement center — how may I help you?”

“Hilarious, kid. You got a minute? I have to ask you something better suited for a different channel.”

Markus was referring to the secure bulletin board he’d made Aiden set up when they first started dealing together, complete with encrypted messaging and vid-chat capabilities. It would be the first time they’d used it since Markus had shuttered his old shop.

“I don’t remember making any orders lately,” said Aiden. “The stuff on the catalog’s been on a retro trend this month. Did you know Ezra Technical just released a throwback headset? It’s a pair of headphones, and that’s literally it — no ziv-form capabilities or anything. It’s not even cheap enough for those who can’t afford cyberware. Like, who needs that?”

“Luddites,” grunted Markus. “Old grannies who got cyberware issues, I don’t know. Just get on the line.”

The call clicked off. Aiden switched to the bulletin board and accessed the video call feature with his pass code, a phrase he entered with his mind and which got dual-verified with the unique electrical signal his brain made upon entering.

“Okay, what’s up? How’s the new shop?”

“Cleaner, that’s for damn sure. I’ve only had shit smeared on my front window twice this month. Slightly less business on the prosthetic front, but I suppose that’s it’s a good sign if I got more customers coming in for a car detail instead of new legs.”

“I was thinking of coming by next week, actually. We could kick back and try some new stims I just bought.”

“Sure, kid, whenever you got time. Speaking of drugs, that’s what I wanted to get your take on. You ever heard of a new pill on the market called epanaferopozil?”

“Epana-what?”

“Also known as EC-27, but that’s the factory classification. Anyway, I’ve been hearing whispers of this Class X drug circulating the market in recent days. Only thing is, nobody’s seen it or knows what it does. Wouldn’t normally be diggin’ so deep about this, but this is Class X we’re talking about. I’m sure you know what that means, right? ”

“Experimental, technologically significant, and/or paradigm-shifting,” rattled off Aiden. “Interesting. Are you trying to make a buy-in or something? Purchase some stock to short later?”

“Nah, but I make it my business to know any new merch on the horizon. It rattles my bones the wrong way that I know less than diddly-squat.”

“Are you sure your sources aren’t making this up?” said Aiden dubiously. “Criminals do that, you know.”

“I am the source of this kind of news, kid. Which means if I’ve already verified the existence of this pill, but have clue what it’s being used for, it’s the record on the streets that stands.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“I dunno, thought maybe a bigwig Terminary kid like you with parents running a multimillion-unit pharma company would know a thing or two about revolutionary new drugs. But who am I to make such judgments?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fantastic…” Markus harrumphed. “Ah, well — I’ll keep rootin’ around. In the meantime, keep this under wraps, willya? Not that I really gave you much to go on, but for discretion’s sake.”

“Sure, mum’s the word. Hope your body is ready for these bomb-ass stims I’m bringing you next week.”

“Appreciate the sentiment, but leave the stims. Those things give me migraines.”

Once the call ended, Aiden settled back on his bed to resume his monitor viewing, but just then Tancy poked her head in.

“Whaddya want?” called Aiden exasperatedly, not taking his eyes off the screen. The Brazilian Confederation had just rounded their third lap on the ziv-court and were now pelting towards Switzerland’s goal. Its burly frontrunner leapt to meet them and missed the ball carrier, crashing hard to the floor.

“Dinner’s ready in the dining room.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Tancy didn’t move. “You’re not gonna come eat?”

“It’ll just be the two of us at that giant table, what’s the point? Tomorrow’s your birthday, they’ll be plenty of people around, then.”

Tancy sniffed indignantly. “Since you came to my track meet, I know you don’t really mean that, but it won’t just be us. Miriam made red bean soup again. All the staff’s trying out her new recipe.”

Aiden didn’t move. “You’re not just trying to get me to taste-test your cooking again, are you? Because last time I almost died.”

“No, nothing like that.”

Aiden gave her a hard look, but Tancy’s expression remained unchanged.

“Fine,” he said, ending the video playback in his cyberware and disconnecting from the Net. “I’m trusting you.”

--

Fifteen minutes later, Aiden was retching bits of tea egg into his napkin. The marbled, cocoa-brown chunks of yolk stuck in his throat like pebbles of hot coal.

Around him, members of the house staff were gathered around the long dining table, sipping appreciatively from bowls of Miriam’s delicious red bean soup. Burt and Susan stood guard stoically at the doors before Yayla the perky house maid ushered them into the crowd and pressed a cup of tea into each of their hands. Everyone was politely but firmly avoiding the concoction of tea egg instant pot in the middle of the table.

“It can’t be that bad,” said Tancy bracingly, watching Aiden reach for another glass of water to douse the numb, burning feeling on his tongue.

“What did you do? Kill a chicken and dunk it in a vat of synth-peppers?”

“Uh…”

When Aiden glared at her, Tancy protested, “They were natural chickens, okay! You know how rare those get nowadays? A guy at school bought a hen for over two-hundred thousand units.”

“There’s a reason why synth-meat and insta-meal exist, Tancy. It’s so monsters like you don’t torture other people with their bad cooking.”

“It was an admirable first try,” said Miriam diplomatically. The matronly, round-faced head cook slipped a bowl of steaming red bean soup next to Aiden’s elbow. “Next time, Lady Huang, you could lay off the synth-jalapeño chunks in the marinade. Then add a pinch more anise for a zestier tang.”

“And finally, toss it in the trash where it belongs,” said Aiden.

Miriam lightly swatted him on the head with her palm as she passed. “I wouldn’t be talking such a big game, young master. He who burns frozen, pre-made synth-apple pies should hone their craft before criticizing others.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“That was a light toasting on the crust. This is completely different. How do you mess up what’s essentially hard-boiled eggs? That’s what I wanna know.”

“But I worked really hard on that,” said Tancy, looking crestfallen.

Miriam patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I know you did, and don’t let anyone —” she cast a look at Aiden “— tell you otherwise. Besides, nobody will remember the eggs after they taste the cake I’m baking for tomorrow. And you picked the synth-cream toppings. I’m sure it’ll be a hit.”

Just then McCourt strode over and set down his empty bowl. The tall man was wearing a heavy peacoat over his machine-suit with only the flex-tie exposed.

“Congratulations yet again, Miriam,” he declared. “My dear, this soup is phenomenal — simply phenomenal. With your permission, I’d like to bring a pot to the guard posts at the front gate. It’ll certainly do them some good on a cold night like this.”

“Yes, it’s a bit nippy out there, isn’t it?” said Miriam. “Send someone to take them two pots if they’d like.”

“Much obliged, madam — the boys out there pulling double-shifts will love this. This’ll be sure to warm their bones.”

“Is Javison still missing, sir?” asked Burt, listening intently from his seat at the table. “It’s been more than a week.”

“As far as we can tell. Either the man’s gone AWOL or whatever sickness that’s befallen him has motivated a change of address and an inability to respond to any calls. Of course, there’s a slim chance he ran into some trouble on the streets, but in the meantime it’s causing trouble with the scheduling —”

“I’ll say,” mumbled Aiden.

“ — what with the size of our staff. You know how Gentlemen Huang likes to run a tight ship around here. The only problem with that is when there’s an absence, the entire team will be picking up the slack until we find the right substitute.”

“Maybe we should file a police report,” said Susan worriedly. “I don’t know where Javison is staying, but it could have been close to the riots. CCS still hasn’t graphed the body count.”

“If what you’re implying is true,” said McCourt. “His bio-tracker would have flat-lined. ”

“I assume that’s not the case?” said Burt calmly.

“His heart rate and other vitals are completely within the normal range. No need to worry about the report, Susan — Saffran’s a diligent head of security and he did it this morning. In the meantime, Javison’s service contract has been terminated, and unless he has a good explanation of his whereabouts — if we ever get a hold of him, anyway — he’ll stay gone.”

“Enough of this talk of terminations and such,” said Miriam busily. “Here, have some synth-vanilla cones. I caramelized them just an hour ago, they should be at just the right temperature…”

Aiden gratefully accepted a cone she passed out, then turned away. He took another sip of the sweet red bean soup, crushing the soft, sugared pearls of jelly underneath his tongue. It was the best he’d ever tasted, for a synthetic reconstruction of the real thing.

He got up and wandered alongside the table. Over by a bust of a phoenix at the other side of the room, one of Miriam’s newer sous-chefs, was regaling Tancy with stories of his own culinary exploits. Ryan Ha, Aiden recalled. He was a young Vietnamese guy about five years older than he was, with carefully coiffed hair. Yet he had long, delicate fingers that bore the faded scars of knife cuts and old burns of an expert cook.

As Aiden approached, Tancy punched Ryan’s arm affectionately in response to something he’d said. “No way!”

“No, really!” Ryan accessed his cyberware and shared a projection on the wall of mass of blackened dough and melted cheese trapped within a metal bowl. “That was my first try at a soufflé. I misread the temperature and scorched that chrome-bitch. Miriam chewed me out good that day. She can yell louder than the fire alarms, did you know that? Me and one of the other sous measured the decibel levels one time.”

“But weren’t you, like, at the top of your class at the culinary academy?”

Ryan clicked off the projection. “Well…nobody’s perfect. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Some more than others,” said Aiden, shooting a pointed look at Tancy.

Tancy pouted, and Ryan grinned at Aiden. “Haven’t seen you try to make an apple pie recently.”

“Too easy,” said Aiden breezily. “I need a challenge.”

“Uh-huh…something a little bigger to incinerate, maybe,” said Ryan. “Like a five-layer synth-avocado-and-cheese casserole?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“The oxtail you made last week was amazing,” gushed Tancy. “I brought it to school and all my friends were asking me what restaurant I got it from.”

“Hey, that’s only ‘cause I was playing the Overclocked Clavichord for you all,” said Aiden. “I heard that listening to overclocked tones can increase mental focus for hands-on tasks.”

“For the record, I was wearing earplugs,” said Ryan in an aside to Tancy.

“Stop lying, goon,” said Aiden, as Tancy giggled.

“Jokes aside, though, I gotta hand it to you — your playing’s seriously on point. I wish I could do that.”

“You know it.” Aiden checked the time in his cyberware. “Alright, I’m going to finish the rest of the ziv-ball internationals. I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“See you later, goon!” said Ryan. He flipped a synth-cookie into the air and Aiden caught it between his teeth. Waving goodbye, Aiden jogged up the stairs and went back to his room.

He’d only been watching the game for five minutes before Tancy reappeared in his doorway once again.

“Boo!” said Aiden.

Tancy squeaked in fright and leapt sideways, bumping her head against the doorframe. At Aiden’s gales of laughter, she regained her composure and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You have your ziv-ball game to watch. This is the last thing, I promise — just came by to drop this off. ” She held out the survival pack she’d been working on, now completed and coated in silver-gray chroma-ziv. “The final stage of product development: user testing.”

“What do you expect me to do with that?”

“I dunno, bring it for a day to school. Note down any bugs with the charging processes. Pitch the emergency tent in a field or something. I have a list of features I can send if you want.”

“That would be helpful.” Aiden got up and took the pack from her. “You know, I think you got this whole birthday thing turned around. People are supposed to give you gifts, not the other way around.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d forget.”

“Mom and Dad are actually flying home from their conference to celebrate, how would I forget that?” Aiden laid the pack down carefully by his desk. “I bet they’ll be happy to know you’re crushing on the cooking staff.”

Tancy blushed. “Ryan’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, and I just wanted to hold hands real hard with Dorothy Ramirez and Shelby Li at the Spring Extravaganza,” replied Aiden sarcastically.

Tancy took this in, thinking for a moment. “Until I graduate high school, I’ll wait to see if anything changes. If not, he’ll probably have a girlfriend by then, and I’ll be off to university.”

“At that point, he might have already left for another job, too.”

“Yeah...”

“And he’s probably looking for someone whose preferred murder method isn’t a bunch of peppers in synthetic dairy.”

“Oh, shut up.” Tancy leaned against the doorway, her arms folded. After a moment, she continued, “You know, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided to invoke my birthday wish this year.”

She was referencing a family tradition so old that Aiden couldn’t remember when they’d started doing it. By the time they had stopped, Tancy was no older than six years old. The gist of it was simple: on their birthday, they could ask one wish of anyone in the family that had to be granted at the best of their ability, within reason. Whoever failed to grant the wish would have to buy a jumbo-size dessert of the birthday wisher’s choice.

Already mentally flicking through the list of synth-creams and cakes Tancy would request, Aiden replied, “Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“If Mom and Dad don’t change their minds about making me the head of the company, then join me as CTO.”

“Yeah, no can do. What kinda flavor of —” Aiden paused. “Wait, what’d you say?”

“They never said you couldn’t work an executive-level position in the company, just that you couldn’t be CEO,” said Tancy conversationally. “So why not chief technology officer? I have pages — e-binders, really — of philanthropic ventures I want to implement, new tech I want to develop, but I’ll need your expertise. You’ll be CTO, and in your contract, you have to agree to put a pot of sunflowers on every street corner in the 19th Borough. It could be a sector mascot, you know? Something yellow and cheerful.”

“You don’t need my approval for something dumb like that.”

“There’ll be a stipulation in there for you to contractually like it. Another program I had in mind was a conservation project for globally endangered species. Apparently, there’s still penguins in the South Pole Islands that survived the Winter War, but they’ll likely die out if we don’t fund a gene rehabilitation project in the next twenty years.”

“What if Mom and Dad say no to this?”

“I won’t tell them until I get control over the company.”

“Tancy, look…”

Tancy suddenly looked stern, which, for someone as short as her, made her look like a particularly aggressive garden gnome. “Hey, that’s my birthday wish. Promise me you’ll be CTO.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Look at me and tell me I’m not.”

Aiden met Tancy’s determined gaze, her rosebud mouth set in a stubborn pout. Her eyes were filled with sincerity.

“Okay,” he said. “I promise.”

“Cool…well, that’s settled. Enjoy your ziv-ball game.” Tancy went to leave.

“I like penguins, too,” called Aiden. “But I never thought about saving them.”

Tancy paused. “Why not?”

“Why bother conserving them? They’re not farm animals. They don’t produce food or provide derivatives for medicines. They can’t even fly.”

Tancy shrugged. “But we have the money, right? So why not spend on getting more penguins out into the world? They shouldn’t just disappear. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see a penguin in real life. The way they waddle in the archival footage is so cute.”

On her way out the door, she hesitated. “And thanks for saying yes. I think we’ll be able to do some really great things together.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Aiden nonchalantly.

Tancy opened her mouth, looking like she was about to say something else, but she turned on her heel in the open doorway and was gone.