The Thousandth Floor
“Oh,” Caroline breathed, stunned. “I thought you didn’t want to meet him?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Eris’s mom studied her daughter, as if uncertain what she really meant. “I’ll reach out to him, then, tell him everything. I’ll do my best,” she promised.
It took a second for the meaning of those words to sink in. “You’re saying he doesn’t know about me yet?”
“It’s all very … complicated, you know.”
“No, I don’t know!”
“Eris—”
“You’ve been lying to everyone! This is why I need to meet my birth father! Because I need at least one functioning parental relationship in my life, and I clearly can’t get it from you!”
Her mom winced. “I’m sorry.” She sounded small and broken, but Eris had already moved toward her bedroom door.
She wasn’t sure why it saddened her so much, this realization that her birth father didn’t even know she existed. But on top of everything else—losing her dad, losing Cord, losing her entire life—it felt like more than she could handle.
Eris felt like those wadded-up pieces of trash that she’d seen the kids on this floor kicking idly around. Unwanted and useless, and belonging to no one.
WATT
WATT’S FEET POUNDED on the thick black polyresin as he followed the running trail through the forest. Electronic music blasted in his eartennas. He hadn’t been to Redwood Park in ages. He hadn’t gone running in ages, come to think of it, unless you counted the pickup soccer games he occasionally joined. Boxing was more his thing these days. But he’d been running almost every day since he met Avery at the ARena last week. To get in shape, he told himself, though it wasn’t a coincidence that he was following the same loop Avery always posted about.
It wasn’t like Watt to go to such lengths for a girl. Yet he had no idea what else to do. He couldn’t stop thinking about Avery; he’d flickered her a couple of times, and while she always responded, the conversation was never more than friendly. Not even Nadia was quite sure what to say to her, which only made Watt more intrigued. He’d been reading through Avery’s feeds all week—a task he usually left to Nadia, but in this case he wanted to do it himself. Avery was brilliant. He loved hearing all her thoughts, teasing through the way her mind worked.
And on top of all that, of course, was her near-terrifying beauty. By now Watt had figured out Avery’s history, that her parents had custom designed her from the pool of their combined DNA. He was crazy to think he might ever have a shot. What could a guy from downTower ever hope for, with the most beautiful girl on earth—a girl who literally lived on top of the world? Avery probably had dozens of guys constantly asking her out, all of them taller or richer than Watt.
Still, none of them had Nadia.
He sped up as the trees thinned ahead, and the dark ribbon of the path turned along the edge of a wide illusion lake. The water wasn’t real, but the redwood trees around him were, their roots sinking deep into the agri levels below and their tops stretching far overhead. Watt took a deep breath, relishing the burn in his calves. The air was heavy with the scent of clean, dry needles. No wonder Avery liked it here. Redwood Park was technically open to the public, but its location—tucked away on the 811th floor, on a local elevator line—meant that most people who came here were highliers.
Do you know where Atlas is? came an incoming message on his contacts.
What an obsessive weirdo, Watt remarked to Nadia as she pulled up Atlas’s location and sent it to Leda. Not that he particularly cared. It was Leda’s craziness that had put several hundred NDs in his college savings account, and let him buy Zarah and Amir some new clothes.
I fail to see how Leda’s behavior differs from what you’re doing.
At least I’m not constantly tracking Avery the way she is Atlas, Watt thought angrily.
I can do the hack for you, if you want, Nadia replied.
Watt suddenly felt ashamed. Nadia was right; he should give up and head home.
And then he saw her.
She was running the opposite direction down the path, wearing a lime-green shirt and camo-printed running pants. Even running she was somehow elegant, her hair spilling carelessly over one shoulder.
It wasn’t until she was a couple of meters away that Avery blinked in recognition. “Hey,” she breathed, and slowed to a walk. “Watt, right?”
He felt a momentary dismay that she hadn’t been thinking about their meeting in the ARena the way he had. Clearly his flickers hadn’t made that much of an impression either. Maybe he was right, and she was talking to a ton of guys at once. Well, he thought, shoving aside the doubt that threatened to creep in, he would just have to be that much more memorable.
“Avery.” He turned around, falling into step alongside her. “I didn’t know you ran up here. Are you training for something?” A reasonable question; this was a pretty long loop. Watt remembered from the feeds that she’d run a half marathon the last couple of years.
“Not right now. I just love running here.” She made a gesture that encompassed the bright green trees, the cool air that smelled rich and woodsy, the light dancing on the artificial water. This far into the park, the walls weren’t even visible. “It’s nice how you can go miles without seeing anyone, you know?” she asked, then seemed to realize what she’d just said. “Present company excluded, of course.”