Coda (12 page)

Dead. Yeah.

“Are you going to tell me why I was even looking in the first place? Whose code was that?”

“A friend. His name was Johnny.” I back against the wall and my knees fold. Haven’s warm hand lands on my shoulder.

“He used to be a conduit,” I say hoarsely. It’s the only safe thing to tell her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I look up and wipe my eyes. “Did it say
anything
else? Like why?” Not like I can’t guess.

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. One strand falls into her eyes and she thoughtlessly flicks it back. “Just
Targeted for Termination
and about twenty codes from people all over the Web. Not why, or how, or anything.”

They know. Sick certainty curdles in my stomach. They know about us. Or at least about Johnny, which means it’s only a matter of time before they start looking around at his known associates. Phoenix and Mage. I’ve been seen with him. Tango knows we were friends. From me, they’ll find Scope and Yellow Guy. Pixel might be
seen as guilty by blood.

“What did he do, Anthem? What’s all this about?”

I stare at the console and watch the Corp logo bounce around for a while. “I don’t know.”

I’ve spent so long trying not to be noticed that I haven’t truly looked around me. Haven’s words replay in my head, and I open my eyes everywhere I go. Guards here and patrol-pods there during shift change. A single small boat skirting the edges of the island, a uniform at the helm. On my way into work, I stare at the statue until a suspicious guard tells me to move along.

I seriously doubt that the people who came here after the war had this in mind. Starving, filthy, lost, without any governments left to guide them, they had to go somewhere. They picked here, this place that was once known as New York City. A prime target during past conflicts, it learned better than others how to protect itself and so, when it was all over, this was where there were still stores of food, undamaged shelters, and the only computers not destroyed by the final pulse bombs.

They just wanted safety. Peace. What they got was fighting as heated as the war, if not as devastating because there weren’t many weapons left. Amidst the repairing and restructuring of the city were bloody battles over who would take charge of it, eventually won by the man now immortalized in metal.

The elevator is packed, hot, and I flash back to the riot.

“What’s up?” Tango asks, helping me into my chair.

I nearly tell her, say her friend was lucky to get off with being made an Exaur, but that’s not true, and I can’t explain. “Nothing,” I
say. “Tired.”

I’m always tired. She doesn’t question it.

On the other side of the river, broken concrete juts from the dead landscape, a mouthful of crooked teeth jaggedly reflected by gun-metal water. I stare for just a second, thinking, before I duck through the fence. I know what I’m about to ask of my friends, why I’m taking the risk of asking them to meet me here on a Friday, when even more patrol-pods swarm the streets in preparation for the weekend.

The cramped basement feels smaller, claustrophobic as I pace, stomping, gritting my teeth. I kick one of the old pipes and listen to the dull ring fade away. Decisions have been stacking up in my head since Haven told me, fueled by anger and just . . . complete fucking disbelief.

No, that’s not true. I wanted to be wrong, to know even the Corp wouldn’t do something like this, but I have no problem believing it.

I want to see red, but instead I see yellow laces.

“What the fuck?” he gasps as I cross the room and push him against the wall. Vaguely, I hear Scope land in the room.

“Did you tell anyone?”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“This. Us. Did you tell anyone?”

Scope grabs my shoulder. “Anthem, what the hell is going on? Of course he didn’t.”

I look between Scope and Yellow Guy and think of the plans I’ve started to make. “I’ll explain when the others get here.”

Mage and Phoenix turn up a few minutes later, curious about why I tabbed. I’m grateful for their arrival if only because it breaks
the strained silence.

“They murdered Johnny. Probably Pixel’s friend, too,” I say. “And I think someone from my building.” I remember my fear, then my relief because she was just a girl on a stretcher and not my father. All the color drains from Mage’s face.

“No way.”

“I . . . my . . . I got someone to hack in to the system. Johnny’s code was on a list. All of them are dead. Scope, if you can get the other code from Pixel, she can check,” I say. Scope nods.

“The track,” Mage whispers. “The track he put on.”

“Yeah.” I still can’t figure out how they did that, but I guess it doesn’t matter right now.

“Wait a second. They’re
killing
people now? With tracks?” Phoenix asks.

“They always have been. Looks like they’ve found a way to do it faster.” I picture Johnny dropping to the floor. Over and over and over. “He thought he was being watched.”

“You think they know about us.”

I shrug off Yellow Guy’s use of
us
. Whatever. “It makes the most sense, right?”

We’re all quiet for a few minutes. I should tell them that letting it sink in doesn’t make it any easier to accept. When they look at me again, I find my spot beside Johnny’s guitar and start to talk.

“We need to fight back. A friend said something to me. She said she thought a lot of people would want to hear unencoded music, and I think she’s right. If the Corp
did
know about Johnny, there’s a good chance they know about us as well. The same thing could happen to us any fucking time. Either we’re all next, or they’re counting on us being scared enough to stop. I say we do the opposite. We might never get another chance. If the Corp are worried enough to
kill, they’re weak—”

“But this is the Corp,” Yellow Guy interrupts. “They won’t be weak for long.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“What are we talking about?”

I meet Phoenix’s eyes. “Concerts. Somewhere—here, I guess. Get people we trust, they’ll come just to hear what real music sounds like, or we don’t tell them why they’re coming, I don’t know. We’ll figure that out. But use unencoded music as a way of gathering, spreading the word somehow. Getting enough people together that the Corp can’t ignore it.” I think of the riot and the energy that buzzed in the crowd before the drug subdued us. The anger bubbling under all our surfaces. It just needs an excuse to come out. “Enough people that we can overpower them. Take control of headquarters.”

“You’re serious?” Scope asks. They all stare at me.

“Too much has happened. Johnny. The twins. That Exaur I saw.”

Mage and Phoenix look confused; I explain to them what happened that day. The censored, bloodless version isn’t an accurate description, but I know they can imagine the truth behind my careful words.

“Fucking Corp,” Phoenix spits.

“Which is why we have to do something. And no, I don’t know we can make any kind of difference, but what are we supposed to do? Keep going the way things are? Let it be someone else’s problem? Leave it for the twins? And what if we
are
next? Our codes could go on some list, and we might not even know. Haven can’t watch the whole time even if she knows what she’s looking for. If that happens, I’m not going down without a fight.”

“You’re talking about a revolution,” Mage says.

My skin tingles. “I . . . Yeah. I don’t know. Something. You know music used to be a voice against injustice? And now it
is
the injustice. I’d rather . . .” I swallow, my throat dry and sticky. “I want the twins to know I tried. And do it for Johnny.” Someone needs to stand up for Johnny.

“Well, you don’t need to convince me,” says Yellow Guy.

Irritation flares brief, bright, hot. I shake it off. He’s on my side, so I shouldn’t care that he’s not really part of this.

“You know I’m in,” says Phoenix. “I just want an audience, but a fight makes it better.”

“I’ve been watching the guards and the patrols,” I tell them. “It’s going to take a lot of us, but I think it can be done.”

“Then we, what, storm the Corp with an army and kill them all?” Yellow Guy grins with something almost like relish, and I shake my head.

“Violence is their trick. No. There are other ways of making them stop this. All we need is the manpower to take headquarters.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s not a little naïve?”

“I’m not killing anyone for the hell of it. Not even for revenge,” I say. I’m sure of that much. “We’ll have to defend ourselves, yeah, but . . .”

“So how far do we take this
fight
?” Phoenix asks. Everyone looks at me, waiting. I close my eyes and see my friend dying, right there, inches away but with no chance for me to stop it. I hear him hit the floor.

I think of the twins.

“As far as we have to,” I say. “But no further.”

Mage is quiet for a long time; he stares down at his crossed legs and threads his dreads between his fingers.

“Mage,” says Scope, “they killed him.”

“You really think we can do this?” he asks me.

“I think we have to try, and it’s going to take more than just us.”

“With music? You don’t think that’s like using bombs to end a war?”

I almost smile, and I don’t point out that in the end, that worked once. “More like fighting fire with fire.”

Slowly, he nods. “All right, man. It’s not why I got into this, but for Johnny . . .”

I get it. We all do. “Okay.” I stand up, nerves buzzing in a way they haven’t since before Johnny died. Since our last practice together. “I have no idea how to really get started, but we need to open the circle a little. Scope, we’ve got to tell Pixel. We’re going to need his help.”

Scope laughs. “He’s going to love me for this. Always says I’m trouble.”

“Yeah, well, he’s right,” I say, grinning. “You want me there?” Yellow Guy reaches over to take Scope’s hand, and Scope shakes his head.

“Nah. But if he flips out, I’m telling him it was all your idea.”

I’m not that worried. Pixel’s never been above breaking the law a little, like the way he sneaks me into the club for free on nights I can’t afford to pay cover.

I guess after that it’s all just a matter of scale.