Light slanted out from a crack in the mighty doors of Shetty Hall, a chapel-like building that was nearly half the size of a football field. Behind its stately walls, music pounded away in muffled puffs. When Aiden entered, the noise of the party hit him full blast.
Pausing by the top of short stairwell curving down onto the main floor, Aiden surveyed the room.
Like most Terminary dances, the wealth and abundance of its attendees was on full display. A sea of the latest fashion trends assailed Aiden’s eyes: everything from the stiff, machine-style uniforms (like Aiden’s) to looser fitting ziv-suits with chromagraphic epaulets to glowing industrial skirts, luminescent coolant coursing through the folds. Near the entranceway he’d just walked through, Aiden spotted a guy in a toga toppling over into a bed of discrete foam — emerald, man-sized bubbles that conformed to the sitter’s body and floated around in a modified Latham Field.
Okay, Auxy, show me your stuff.
At the ready, sir. Any second now, Madam Ramirez should appear. When she does, you can comment positively on her appearance and then say something to the effect of: “I promise I was worth the wait.”
You bet I am.
Somebody lightly punched his arm.
On second thought, said Auxy. Hold that line. Recalculating.
Edward Eng was grinning at Aiden, his normally spiky hair flattened out in the back and swooped up in the front, unlike Aiden’s carefully combed-over style. A bored-looking blonde girl followed behind him with the half-glazed look of someone checking their cyberware.
“Lookin’ good, are we?” said Edward. “Fashionably late. You sure know how to keep the ladies waiting.”
“What d’you mean?” said Aiden. “She knows I was being delayed.”
“Really? ‘Cause I just bumped into her and she was looking for you around the tables. She’s there now.”
Aiden scanned the area. The gray walls of the hall itself were darkened by some unknown substance in the image of a night’s sky, speckled by a layer of glittery chroma-ziv resembling stars. At alcoves spaced out along the sides, translucent lifts carried students upwards into the shadows to a large, open deck lined with terraces. Dorothy was nowhere to be found.
“Goon, what are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” Edward pointed to a faraway corner. Aiden squinted and felt his stomach drop. Over by one of the copper-colored pillars, Shelby Li was chatting with a few of her friends, looking distracted as she peered through the crowd.
“She wasn’t supposed to here this early,” said Aiden dumbly.
He was about to ask Auxy what he should do next when a pair of hands dropped over his eyes, and a fruity neuro-scent wafted over him.
“Who said I was here early?” said a playful voice. Aiden turned to find Dorothy Ramirez smiling at him. She was even more stunning in person, her brown curls bunched up in a fashionable bob. She stepped in front of him and rested one of her warm, small hands on his chest
Edward raised an eyebrow at Aiden’s expression. Then realization dawned on his face.
“Oh-ho.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh me, oh my.”
“Hey, Dorothy — could you give me a second?” said Aiden. “I’m really sorry, but I gotta talk to Ed about something important.”
“Oh…ok,” said Dorothy, confused. Aiden grabbed Edward by the arm and pulled him into a corner. Behind them, Aiden heard her say to Edward’s date, “Emitra, I love your dress…”
Edward chortled as Aiden glanced back to make sure nobody could hear them. “Goon,” he said. “We’ve done some dumb shit, but this is a first.”
“Can you keep quiet about this for just tonight?” said Aiden. “Please?”
“How’d you even manage to bag one of them? Teach me your ways, master.”
“I tutored Dorothy in physics for a bit. She was having trouble with her thermodynamics unit.” Aiden waved his hand impatiently. “But that’s not the point! The point is, I could be having two moments of joy tonight instead of the one, but only if you don’t screw this up for me.”
Edward broke out into another fit of guffaws.
Aiden ignored him and said: “I need you to keep Shelby occupied. Tell her I’m on one of the upper balconies or something. Keep her anywhere away from here. Be solid for me, goon. Don’t be cloudy.”
Aiden watched Edward consider this. He and Aiden hung out occasionally at the arcades (before his parents had enforced the curfew and imposed extra security) and Edward was his primary source for good stimulants in between classes. Aiden considered him a good friend, but the raunchy glint in his eyes made Aiden distrust his ability to keep his mouth shut.
“I’ll pay you double for the next batch of stims you run,” he offered.
“Relax, goon, I won’t gouge you.” But Edward was still rubbing his chin. “Fifteen percent increase.”
“Deal.”
“I won’t ask for more because this is funny as shit.”
Aiden clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re sterling, you know that? I owe you one, seriously.” He and Edward returned to their dates, where the girls were comparing their emblem rings.
“You ready?” said Dorothy.
“As ever,” said Aiden. “I’ll see you around, Ed.”
“You bet, you dog,” replied Edward cheerfully. Aiden glared at him, but he only winked back cheekily.
Thanks a lot, Auxy, he thought.
I’m sorry, sir, but you seemed to be handling it sufficiently well on your end.
Dorothy took Aiden by the arm and led them both deeper into the festivities. “Come on, the next song is about to start!”
The benches used for assemblies were cleared away for an enormous dance floor; on the outskirts were dozens of smaller, globe-lit tables furnished with seat-warmers and noise-cancelling bubbles for privacy.
A new track began over the speakers, orchestral strings blending improbably with modern synths. It was easy to merge with the crowd of partygoers. While there were many couples arm-in-arm in the traditional way, many others jellied about awkwardly like fish flopping about on land, surrendering themselves to the overclocked tones nestled within the deeper bass synths of the melody.
“C’mon,” said Aiden, tugging Dorothy away to one of the sections farthest away from the tables where Shelby sat. “I see some space over here.”
The volume of the crowd pressed them together. Surrounded by the heat of packed bodies, they swayed together for a time, Aiden’s hands placed rather awkwardly just below her ribs. Dorothy’s neuro-scent was tangy but not overpowering. Her body was maddeningly warm, the smooth curve of her chest mushing tantalizingly against his.
The woman’s voice on the track was crooning sweetly, lilting delicately at the end of each verse.
“My mom and I dance to this song all the time,” said Dorothy. “It’s one of her favorites.”
“Uh-huh.” Aiden was much more concentrated on not stepping on her toes. Up close, she was much taller in her heels. “What’s the song called? I’ve never heard it before.”
She pulled away, feigning shock. “You’ve never heard ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ before? It’s a classic!”
“I don’t remember song names well,” said Aiden. “Maybe I’ve played it on my Overclocked Clavichord, but can’t be sure.”
“You have this on an Overclocked Clavichord?” she said incredulously (Aiden noticed she tended to repeat his previous statements as questions). “I’m so jealous, how did you get one?”
Aiden simply shrugged, both to retain the mystique of the Clavichord purchase and hide how out of breath he was.
After the song was over, another popped up, this one decidedly faster than the last. It had a lot more guitar strumming, coupled with marching-band trumpets and a zesty electronic beat.
“Ooh, this is my kind of music!” squealed Dorothy. She danced faster, her hips sashaying, and it was all Aiden could do to keep up. He tried imitating her movements but only succeeded in smacking into other people’s hips, earning him a couple glares.
Twice, his hands slipped down to her waist and bottom, although Dorothy didn’t seem to mind. The crowd had bunched together again, and there wasn’t much room to maneuver. Gradually, he lost count of how many times he squished her toes and resigned himself to almost step-walking on the pointy ends of her heels.
Dorothy seemed to notice his discomfort (and possibly hers), because after just two more songs she suggested they take a break. Aiden followed her to a far region of the hall, where there was propped up a makeshift rotunda in the style of a Roman wedding, though if one didn’t know better, the marble columns and lacquered arches looked like they had always been part of the building.
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Aiden was sweating underneath his flex-suit. “You’re…a pretty good dancer.”
“You’re not bad, either!” said Dorothy. Aiden raised an eyebrow, and she burst into giggles. “Okay, maybe you need a little more practice.”
Picking a bottle off a hover-tray, she said, “Here, drink this synth-juice. I think it’s one of those experimental flavors not based off any preexisting fruits.”
Aiden eyed the label and took a swig. Despite the marketed novelty, the drink tasted like grape and kiwi combined and was overpoweringly sweet, leaving his mouth feeling sticky and dehydrated. “Yeah, I can definitely taste the experimental aspect of it.”
They sat and drank and talked. Dorothy’s parents were the heads of an international brewery company, and she regaled Aiden’s with their latest line of concoctions coming out later that month. Aiden nodded along amiably, and she took his concentration to avert his gaze from her cleavage for actual interest.
“Maybe you can come with me to our factory sometime!” she said. “I can give you a tour of the refinery and have you try some of the newer drinks we have on surplus.”
“Wish I could, but my parents have me under curfew. I can’t go anywhere without a bunch of bodyguards baby-sitting me.”
“What? That’s lame. I can’t imagine my parents telling me where I can and can’t go. It’s almost fascist, don’t you think?”
Denver and Mateo passed by: Denver was accompanied by a brown-haired girl Aiden assumed to be his date, and Mateo accompanied by two glasses of synth-juice tottering on each arm. Mateo had gone for a more retro look with his outfit, sporting a flowing waistcoat with a loud purple bow-tie.
“How’s it doing, goons?” he said loudly over the music. “Some party, huh? The refreshments are fantastic this year. I’ve had like fifty of those deviled eggs, and I am conflicted. My heart says yes to another fifty more, but my stomach’s like —” He let out a gigantic belch, and Dorothy discreetly waved a hand in front of her face to clear the fumes.
“Where’s your date?” asked Aiden. “I thought you were coming with Portia. Did she see that bow-tie of yours and tap out?”
“You’re so original,” said Mateo grumpily. “Not like I haven’t heard just ‘cause I took a chance on style. I woulda asked Natalie, but I haven’t been able to find her anywhere on campus. Did you ever talk to her after the ziv-ball match?”
“No, her name doesn’t show up on the Terminary contact directory.”
“So weird. I know she knew I was into her. Man, she was a tease. Anyway, Portia caught a cough from all the smoke coming out the riots in the Fifth Borough. Those taggers are really stepping it up nowadays — I haven’t seen so many mechas around since that rollout parade of the BX models last year. My uncle said CCS only brings them out when there’s a real problem to be handled. Some of them got AIENA hardware, so you know it’s serious.”
Aiden had heard about AI-Enhanced Armature, or AIENA, for short. It was classified government tech. Footage of the stuff was limited and details were vague. It was hard to identify what the tech could be; AIEN weapons could range from anything from a missile guidance system to an auto-targeting shotgun.
“I didn’t know you had family in the arms business,” said Aiden. “Much less the Corporate Compliance Services.”
“Well, technically it’s my uncle’s wife’s brother that runs the company, and he’s the one that gets the juice. Totally helps them with their stock picks, too. My uncle makes it out like he’s not bragging at Christmas, but give him any line into trend-spotting, and he’ll go on for hours about how much he’s made gaming the defense market in the last eight quarters.”
“I don’t understand why they can’t shut these taggers down,” said Dorothy disapprovingly. “Why does the city put up with these do-nothings?”
“They’re hard to find, apparently,” said Aiden. “Communication encryptions are military-grade, and some had found ways of evading the biometric registry, if you can believe it.”
Mateo snorted, taking a swig of synth-juice. “Yes, please tell us more, Comrade Huang. What’ll you tell us, next? That you bought dope from a Syndicate in the alleyway on Third and Forty-First?”
Aiden’s thoughts flashed to Markus and his network of seedy contacts. “Hey, not my department. I just follow the forums and read what other wire-heads claim they’ve seen.”
Denver and the brown-haired girl sat down on one of the benches by the archway.
“Have you been to the upper deck?” he asked Aiden and Dorothy. “They got this galaxy holographic theme going on and everything — it’s really nice. Teyana and I just finished walking around up there to take in the view.”
“It was beautiful,” gushed Teyana, her chromatographic hoop earrings blurring and disappearing as they swished, their swing delayed by a faulty projector. “It’s like you could actually see the stars.”
Aiden knew a life jacket when he saw one. “That sounds fun. Hey Dorothy, what about the upper deck? Get some fresh air, eat some synth-tacos…”
“I don’t really like synth-tacos.”
“Blasphemy,” mumbled Mateo, guzzling his synth-juice.
“We were thinking of going on the dance floor in a bit,” said Denver, rubbing Teyana’s knee reflexively. “There’s a few song recommendations I want to add to the system playlist if you want to join for a couple’s dance.” He raised a hand to project a hologram of the playlist in front of them.
Without thinking, Aiden smacked his hand down. “Uh…no.”
Denver looked nonplussed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Aiden thought fast. “Sorry, I thought you were holding a Teflon remote to make the song request on the hall system. I have an allergy to Teflon composites.”
Denver blinked at him, then at his own empty hand. “Huh?”
“A special allergy,” added Aiden.
“Aren’t you ready for another round?” purred Dorothy, staring at Aiden with her wide brown eyes.
Aiden very much liked the way she said that, with her eyes twinkling and the flush that had crept into her cheeks. And it was clear that Dorothy had still very much enjoyed herself despite Aiden’s clumsiness. But the dance floor had only gotten more packed. They would most likely be in close quarters once again, during a couple’s song, no less…
“How about we just relax her for a little while longer?” he suggested. “I’m still catching my breath.”
Dorothy pouted. “But we’ve been standing here for twenty minutes. I’m getting bored.”
By this point, Aiden was prepared to smash one of the drinking glasses and stab himself in the foot to avoid another toe-crushing caper in a blob of sweaty bodies.
Auxy, what do I do? I can’t keep dancing like this — I’ll break her feet! And mine, too.
You need a distraction. Something plausibly deniable.
Just then, Mateo moved close beside him, reaching for a can of carbonated water, and inspiration struck Aiden. He angled his body to hide his hand, touched a finger to Mateo’s leg, and activated a mild charge from his implanted shock gauntlet.
Mateo’s muscles flinched involuntarily, and his arm shot out, knocking over a row of bottles on a nearby hover-tray. Dorothy yelped as synth-juice splashed down the front of her dress.
A box-shaped auto-waiter instantly whizzed behind them on chrome wheels, bearing a tray of microfiber towels. Aiden grabbed one and handed it to Dorothy. “Oh no, did he get you?”
“Aw man, this was a new bow-tie!” complained Mateo.
“Awww,” drawled Aiden in exaggerated sympathy. “Here’s another towel.”
“Thanks, goon. Sorry about that, Dorothy.”
“It’s okay! I have an emergency cleaner for stains.” She rummaged around in her purse and took out a capsule of clear liquid with a nozzle attached. “Universal remover, perfect for synth-juice.”
“Whoaa, no way,” deadpanned Aiden, trying not to sound frustrated. Behind him, Denver had the hologram out and was updating the system playlist with his songs. The triangular prism chandelier hanging overhead suddenly changed colors to a deep magenta, and the entire hall became awash in shades of pink and purple.
A slow, inviting, romantic tune broke out over the hall’s loudspeakers, another sultry woman’s voice warbling out. To Aiden, it sounded positively sinister.
Auxy, do something!
You have time, sir. Draw out the conversation.
But before Aiden could think of a way to stall any further, he heard someone say from behind: “Aiden, there you are!”
Aiden turned around to find Shelby walking quickly towards him. The jeweled rims of her oversized solar glasses glittered. “I’ve been looking for you all over. Where have you been? It sounds like they’re putting on a couple’s dance!”
A ball of ice seemed to form in the pit of Aiden’s stomach, freezing him in place. Dorothy was mid-way through cleaning her dress; still hunched over, her gaze fixed on Shelby like a lion suddenly noticing a stray zebra.
“Are you sure you have the right Aiden?” said Mateo, busily mopping his bow-tie. “This one’s got a date already, madam. You might have to go find your real guy.”
Denver was quicker to grasp the situation, his eyes widening. But by then it was too late.
Shelby was staring at Dorothy in unflattering disbelief, her eyes narrowing as they briefly alighted on her noticeable bust. “Excuse me, but I’m the one Aiden actually asked to this dance.”
Aiden gulped quietly. “Huh.”
Dorothy turned to Aiden. “What’s she talking about?”
Play dumb, said Auxy.
“I have no idea,” said Aiden, straight-faced.
Dorothy primly replaced the capsule of universal cleanser in her purse, and turned back to Shelby. “Excuse me, but I’m the one that asked him first.”
“I think you’re making a mistake.”
“I think you are.”
“Oh, sure, as if he would really go for you.”
“He did, actually, on the dance floor. Multiple times. We were just about to go for a couple’s song before you barged in.”
“There was no barging to speak of,” said Shelby disdainfully. “I was walking like a normal person, unlike someone with two tire’s worth of silicone gel attached to their chests.”
Dorothy moved to the top of the stairs of the rotunda, planting her hands on her hips and thrusting her bust out even more. “You know what, I know why you’re tryin’ to horn in. Suddenly all you swim team beauty queens see one ziv-ball match and try to hop on that bandwagon, but he and I go way back, hear me?”
Shelby laughed. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah — really. Not like you fetties trying to score another sports boo for your ReputaPortal profile. Because guess what? He’s a couple inches shorter than me, smells like sour grapes, and sucks at dancing, but I actually like him for who he is!”
“There’s no need to go that in-depth,” muttered Aiden.
Shelby shook back her long, dark hair and crossed her arms. “Of course someone like you would say they care beyond looks.”
“What’d you just say?” said Dorothy.
“You know,” said Denver loudly, off to the side. “I bet the upper deck is nice this time of night. Why don’t we all get some air?”
Dorothy acted like she hadn’t heard him. She slowly walked down the rotunda stairs and stopped a foot away from Shelby, who didn’t budge.
“What’d you say, hm? You slut in glasses. Those are just a fashion statement nowadays — you don’t even need these.” Dorothy’s animated gesturing went wide, and Shelby jerked away.
“Don’t touch me with your mannish hands, you oaf!”
“I barely grazed you, honey.”
“No, you just tried to take my glasses!”
“Now you’re the one getting too close, you little —”
Their progressive shoving grew even more intense, until finally Dorothy swiped Shelby’s glasses onto the floor. Shelby reared back and smacked her across the face. Then they were wrestling, scratching and clawing at each other like tigers.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Mateo, his eyes flickering briefly as he activated his cyberware to record.
The girls’ tussle carried them backwards, and they crashed against one of the tables. Glass shattered and drinks spilled. Overhead, the hall’s romantic-sounding violins continued to play in discordant harmony above the commotion. The male singer’s voice echoed throughout the hall.
“Everybody’s gotta me love me sometime…”
The girls slipped in a puddle of synth-juice and chocolate-colored rum soda, limbs flailing wildly. Shelby was screeching wordlessly as Dorothy slapped her around with a thick roll of sopping napkins. Dorothy lost her grip mid-swing, and the napkin sailed in the air, smacking Mateo in the face as he angled in for a better look.
“Love me sweeeet and truuuee…”
“Oh, you wanna put food on me, bitch?!” screamed Dorothy, straddling Shelby around the waist. “Don’t you wanna know how it tastes?”
She took a plate of Jell-O and smeared it all over Shelby’s face, sticking her fingers up the other girl’s nose. Shelby let out another screech, yanking Dorothy’s hair violently to the side.
By now, a loose ring of students had formed around the fighting girls. A few faculty members were pushing through the crowd, shouting for everyone to back off. Mateo groggily sat up nearby, only to get downed again by a flying pair of dress heels.
All the while, Aiden stood under the rotunda, watching the absurd scene play out before his eyes. A few people were staring at him, some whispering into each other’s ears and snickering.
A net-message from Edward Eng appeared.
You can forget about the fifteen percent mark-up, goon. I lost track of Shelby Li on the upper deck ten minutes ago, so she might be on the ground level by now.
Aiden replied quickly. Thanks a lot, chrome-bitch. I was just about to leave. He turned on his heel and exited the rotunda, trying to disappear into the crowd.