He sighs, guessing her meaning. She wants to do this for him. He feels the same way—but he’shim. He must be someone who can stand on their own and take care of those around them. There is no need for Kate to put herself through this for him. But how can he argue with her when she’s looking at him like that?
“Trust me,” she urges.
Okay, if this is what she wants—what she thinks will make him a better person, he’ll try, despite his discomfort. “Okay.”
“And stop pushing me about it,” she adds.
He wants to groan. Instead, he says, “I’m trying, Kate. This doesn’t come naturally to me.” But then the irony that he was meant to be a manupartner strikes him. He grins. “You were theone who selected my traits after all. If you didn’t want me to be to be like this, then you should have made different selections.”
Evlyn giggles. “I have to know what you selected.”
Kate playfully rolls her eyes, but her amusement quickly fades when the doorbell chimes. Is she going to get spooked now every time someone comes to the door? Saving her from the act, he quickly goes and opens the door.
Oro1 steps inside. “Ready to test the prototypes?”
He sends a reluctant glance back to Kate. She’s perched on the edge of the couch like she’s won something.
“Have fun!” Kate says, clearly trying to shoo him out to avoid an argument from him. That’s fine. They’ll discuss it later, because he refuses to allow her to be nervous about the doorbell. Even if he is trusting her to handle the next month.
Surely Kate will make an excuse to Evlyn about why he’s leaving with her friend. She wants him to trust her to handle things, so he collects the prototypes, then slips out of the unit before guilt has a chance to change his mind. “Let’s go,” he says, and Oro1 falls into step beside him.
It isn’t long before they’re approaching Y Quadrant’s SAT garage.
Their SAT hums as it swiftly transports them through the city, smoothly passing through several interchanges. Occasionally, it slows enough for him to catch a glimpse into someone’s apartment or business. People go about their daily tasks, and he wonders about their lives. Who among them has manupartners? Who went out on Holiday, pulling sticky candy from fishes’ pouches? Who is plotting with their own schemes on BLACKOUT, trying to subvert the pay bracket system? Does Viper live in this quadrant or another?
“Were you able to find out anything about Kate’s old friend?” James asks, unable to say the man’s name without cursing, something he’s trying and failing to get better about.
“He’s worked at GROW for the last seven decades in their marketing department and lives in D Quadrant. I’ve been able to trace a couple of BLACKOUT profiles back to him. One from a different sports betting application. Another that sells a digital product,” Oro1 says.
“It seems like he’s pursuing a variety of avenues to increase his income. How concerned should we be?” James asks.
“I haven’t seen anything that makes me think he’ll report us to the authorities. Especially considering his activity on BLACKOUT. My guess is that he’ll try to get us banned from Off-the-Books Boxing,” Oro1 pulls out the plastic sleeve containing the PalmPrint prototypes. “Maybe other clubs he’s a member of too, but I don’t think it’s anything we should worry about since we don’t plan to go back.”
“What about Sable?” James asks.
Oro1 releases a full belly laugh. “Of the three of us, I’m the least worried for her.”
James shakes his head, considering the tough woman and what circumstances might have led her to be so guarded and serious when most of the people he meets are flippant and unaffected.
Oro1 holds out a set of PalmPrint prototypes to him. He eyes them anxiously. “Remind me again why we couldn’t test these at a MediSpa in C Quadrant?”
“If they register an alarm, we want to be as far away from where we live as possible,” Oro1 supplies.
James peels away the adhesive on the back and lines his hand up. As he inches closer, he can feel the attraction of the molecules that make up the fleshy palm-shaped sticker. Once his skin touches it, a suction sensation dances across his palm, letting him know it’s adhered properly. All that’s left to do is peel the plastic protector sheet off the other side. Well . . . and test it.
Fifteen minutes later, they are nearing the front of the line at OXY. Oro1 leans over, whispering, “If yours works and mine doesn’t, just go in and act like there’s no issue. Then meet me back at Kate’s.”
James steps forward. The woman with a cropped blue bob gives him a huge grin. “Welcome to OXY, MSP’s premier oxygen infusion chamber. Please place your palm here.” She holds out a tablet similar to the ones in the SATs. James can hear the blood rushing in his ears as he places his hand on the pad, doing his best to pretend nothing untoward is going on.
The split second the system takes to recognize him lasts an eternity. Finally, it flashes green, and Jett’s identification number pops up. “Hello, Jett,” the woman says. She’s reaching for the aqua velvet rope when the screen beeps, flashing an angry red. Her brow winkles as she examines the response.
A chorus of fucks reverberates in James’s mind. Oro1 shuffles behind him but doesn’t say anything. “There seems to be an issue with your identification. Please try again,” she says, holding the tablet out.
He holds his hand over the imprint scanner. This time, the scanner doesn’t tease him with a green response. As the red light flashes, the woman taps her m-volt. “Please send a security—”
But before she can finish, James swipes the scanner out of her hand and turns to dart down the hallway right as a bouncer pops out of the barricaded door. With the stolen device in hand, James runs past the elevators, which appear to be stuck in an emergency open position, to the stairwell. Thankfully, they’re only on the tenth floor. James hopes they can’t or won’t fully lock down the building.
As he races down the stairs, he can’t help but think that if he can get away with the stolen device, how useful it will be to have. Oro1 can hack into the system, delete the record of the PalmPrint attempt, and reprogram it so they can test each print as a means of quality assurance. Maybe they can even figure out what triggered it tofail. Each industry’s identity verification devices are a little different, and MediSpas that don’t require retina scans are the most sensitive, therefore a useful testing measure. James suggested IdenTECH buy their own, but he discovered NHOS doesn’t issue the devices except tolegallyregistered businesses. His minor crime will be worth it in the long run.
