Unplugged (9 page)

Jenna had dressed as a widow just as she'd promised, the outfit identical to that of the other widow we'd seen, down to the snow globe of Rain. The smooth, round glass
was nestled into the crook of her left arm like a basketball.

Inara opened her mouth to say something else, but Jenna, as usual, got there first.

“Don't even mention it.” Jenna's lips made a pout. “I already know.”

“What do you know?” I asked.

She sighed. “I've seen at least ten Rain widows already. It's humiliating.”

“Well,” I began as we finally neared the doors, “maybe if you'd—”

“Skye, we need to find my parents,” Inara interrupted. She took my arm. Other members of the crowd were already squeezing by us, separating Inara and me from Jenna. “They'll be worried if they don't see us soon. Take care, Jenna,” she called over them as she pulled me inside. We made our way up the center aisle, and Inara tilted her head back, sending her eyes upward. “Wow.”

The ceiling was high and arched and filled with light. The glass windows let in the sun and refracted it, sending long colorful rays across the cathedral. Each window depicted a scene from an important moment in App World history. The biggest one showed Marcus and Eleanor Holt as the first man and woman who'd appeared virtually. Another depicted a galaxy of Apps that shifted and swirled. But my favorite was the one of Eleanor designing the App that would later download the most famous buildings in the City. The Water Tower rose up behind her
in the glass, the first skyscraper she'd coded because of how it reminded her of New Port City.

Inara and I reached the row where Mr. and Mrs. Sachs waited for us. We joined them, and I looked around, searching for anyone else I knew. There were mostly celebrities and wealthy citizens. There was Simon, Jenna, and a few other fifteens and sixteens I knew from school. I located Lacy, too, in the aisle seat of the second row. But I didn't see any other Singles.

This filled me with sadness.

It was cruel that Adam wasn't invited to mourn Parvda, and Sylvia would suffer alone on behalf of her girlfriend. And what about other Singles like me, with family in the Real World? Prime Minister Holt's decree stole away our families and our right to choose. Why didn't this funeral consider our losses too?

Low whispers rippled throughout the audience. Up in front, Jonathan Holt rose from his pew and turned toward the back of the cathedral.

Everyone else followed his lead.

I craned my neck, trying to see.

People's gazes rose toward the ceiling.

Inara gestured above us. “Holograms. Of the dead.”

One by one they appeared until there was a long parade high in the air so everyone could see clearly.

“The lost,” I corrected. “They're not dead.”

The holograms made their way toward the front of
the cathedral, then parted, some to the left, others to the right, hovering in the rafters as they waited for the others to join them. I saw more than a few Singles I recognized, including Parvda. The footage showed her in a simple green sundress with a happy smile on her face. It made me wonder if the footage was taken from a time when she was with Adam. I liked to think this might be true. There were the wealthy App World seventeens, the ones whose parents were patriotic and refused to buy their children out of Service, and those who'd defied their family's wishes and unplugged regardless. As the holograms passed, I wished I knew which one was Sylvia's girlfriend.

Inara reached over and squeezed my hand. A single tear leaked from her eye. “Look. It's Rain.”

In the very back, the last hologram began to make its way down the aisle. Rain was so lifelike it was difficult to believe he wasn't actually with us. He appeared to be walking down the street, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, eyes on the ground. I glanced toward the front of the cathedral, trying to gauge Lacy's reaction, but I couldn't tell whether she was looking up at him with love or hate or a mixture of both. Her eyes nearly always seemed to gleam wickedly, as though this were her only expression.

When the hologram of Rain approached our row, I studied him.

Inara sighed heavily. “What a waste. He was so beautiful.”

As I took him in, I realized that I was watching to see if he would lock eyes with me again, as he'd done the night of his father's announcement.

Or at least, as I thought he'd done.

A hollowness opened in my chest.

Rain passed me by as though I didn't exist at all.

ONE HOUR INTO
the ceremony, after the names of the lost were read, Jonathan Holt bent down to kiss his wife on the cheek before making his way up to the stage. He stood at the pulpit. Everyone waited for him to speak, but then he held out his hand toward the row of government officials sitting in the front. Emory Specter, the Defense Minister, got up from his pew and joined the Prime Minister. The two most powerful men in our world stood before us, Specter in a bright-red suit, an odd choice for a funeral.

Murmurs erupted across the cathedral.

The Defense Minister's job revolved around border maintenance and controlling who was allowed to plug in
and unplug, so he was likely behind Jonathan Holt's decision to cancel Service.

I shifted in my seat. Craned my neck to look at Lacy again.

Was it possible Specter knew we were about to unplug? Was he here to scare us? To scare anyone who had our same plan?

Jonathan Holt gripped the sides of the podium. “Thank you all for coming.” His voice boomed through the cavernous space. “Today marks a time of deep grief. My family, like many of yours, has lost a son. Because of this, I requested that someone else in the cabinet speak on my behalf.” The Prime Minister sounded like he was having trouble getting his words out. His body arched away from the Defense Minister, as though repulsed. “Emory Specter volunteered to lead us in remembering our loved ones,” he finished. Then he went and sat in a chair on stage.

“Distinguished guests, honored citizens of the App World, welcome,” Specter began. His hands were clasped in front of him and he rocked on his toes. His gaze traveled from left to right and back as he took in the huge crowd of funeral goers. He raised a hand toward the holograms hovering above us. “This morning we remember our sons and daughters, our brothers and sisters, and our friends who have tragically departed this world. I extend my heartfelt condolences to everyone who has lost
someone.” A smile played at his lips.

I ran my hands up and down my arms, wishing I had a sweater. Something was off. The Defense Minister was speaking the right words to us, but his demeanor was not one of sadness.

It was more of excitement.

Anticipation.

“But even as we mourn,” he went on, “we must also express our tremendous relief that those still with us, our children especially, are virtually safe and sound. And while we regard the real human body as an impediment to leading a fulfilled and happy life, we also depend on that fragile body to maintain the brain, that miraculous organ that connects us to the plugs and allows our virtual selves to exist. I'd like to ask for a moment of silence now, in gratitude to those Keepers working valiantly to protect the plugs, and therefore the brains of all of us, to maintain our safety.”

He bowed his head.

Everyone else did the same.

As I stared down at the blue fabric of my dress, the Defense Minister's comments played over in my mind. Even though it made me feel callous, I
was
curious to know why we were all still safe. If I was a Keeper in the Real World who'd lost all possibility of plugging in, I would feel angry and betrayed. I would think the decision to close the border horribly unfair and would want to
rebel against it. Strategywise, the most obvious next step would be to attack the plugs and remove the bodies. Every citizen of the App World was dependent on the willingness of the Keepers to maintain us, which was a massive vulnerability. So what possible reason did the Keepers have to comply with Specter? Could they all be like my mother and have a child to protect? Was the answer as simple as this?

Emory Specter raised his head. With his arms outstretched, he went on. “I also stand before you today as a bringer of hope.” He glanced at the Prime Minister, who stared stonily ahead. “There could be no better place or time to share the most important news to affect our world since its inception.”

The cathedral erupted into chatter.

Inara took my hand and squeezed it tightly. What news could take precedence over the border closing? What could be so important that it should be shared during this funeral?

The Defense Minister raised his hand, calling for silence. He waited until everyone quieted. “For a long time, we've been conducting experiments to discover what will allow citizens of the App World to be free of their bodies once and for all.” Specter's gaze traveled across the span of seated guests. He no longer tried to hide his delight. “I am thrilled to announce we have finally succeeded. Within a few months' time, we will be entirely body-free.
Eternal, virtual life has been achieved! The Race for the Cure has been won!”

I almost couldn't breathe. I tugged at the top of my dress, pulling it away from my skin so my chest could better expand.

Some people began to cheer. Others leapt to their feet with applause. Parents and children hugged one another. Chaos broke out across the pews. Only the Holts and the other families in mourning were silent. Inara held on to my hand like she was afraid to let go. She looked at me imploringly. A deep ache began to spread through me, as though someone was scooping out my insides.

The Defense Minister was beaming. “Quiet, please! Quiet, now!” He gestured again for everyone to settle down. “Let me explain how this will happen. In one month's time, the Keepers will begin removing bodies from the plugs. Who will be removed first, you might wonder? When you plugged in, each of you was given a number. Marcus Holt—Apps rest his virtual soul—was number one, and Eleanor Holt, his wife, number two, and so on and so forth. To be fair, the Keepers have been instructed to go in order, beginning with those families who've been here the longest, the pioneers of the App World. Eventually the Keepers will move on to more recently uploaded citizens. We predict it will take about twelve months to give everyone the necessary update. Liberation is set to begin soon!”

I swallowed. Liberation?

Meredith Dowling, one of the founders of the gaming industry and a woman I admired, stood up in one of the front rows. “Minister Specter, as encouraged as I am by your announcement, I can't say I'm thrilled to be a pioneer if that means I am among the first to be separated from my body.” There were nods of agreement throughout the cathedral. She stared hard at the Defense Minister. “How do I know it's safe? What if the process doesn't work and I simply . . . disappear from existence? I don't like the idea of funerals becoming a regularity.”

She sat back down.

A few people clapped.

The Defense Minister was calm. Maybe he'd anticipated this reaction. “There's nothing to worry about. In the research and experimentation process, some App World citizens were freed from their bodies and they are one hundred percent virtually fine! That's how painless it is. They didn't even know it occurred!” He laughed. “They
still
don't know, actually.”

The crowd cheered again, and my stomach clenched. I looked around frantically. Who among us had already lost bodies? Had Inara? Or worse, had
I
? There would be no unplugging if we didn't have bodies to unplug. My eyes landed on Lacy. She was studying her nails, like always, looking unbearably bored.

She obviously wasn't worried.

An ominous wave spread through me. The government would never risk experimenting on someone like Lacy. It would more likely be someone like me. A Single.

Emory Specter smiled from ear to ear, making no effort to conceal his glee. This was becoming less a funeral and more like a political rally by the minute. “I can assure you there is no risk. Many of you have Under Eighteens and young children who've only recently appeared. I want to take this moment to address any worries you might have about their virtual development. As part of the experimentation process, we've removed children at all stages of youth and we can confirm that with our new technology, they will continue to grow virtually as though still plugged in to their real brains.” He placed his hands on either side of the podium and leaned forward. “Once the very last body has been removed, the Keepers will destroy the plugs and the App World will officially be self-sustaining. Our population reached optimal levels earlier this year.” He laughed good-naturedly. “We no longer have to rely on the Keepers to maintain us. Our way of life will be forever protected. We will be stronger than ever before!”

Men stamped their feet and whistled. Women waved ribbons they'd taken from their hair and tossed flowers into the aisle.

Inara snaked an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.

I still couldn't wrap my head around any of this. The Defense Minister must have promised the Keepers something, but what incentive could possibly be big enough? And even if we could survive virtually without the plugs and the body, that didn't make it right. It meant the literal and permanent separation of the rich of this world and the poor of the real one. And we were all always supposed to have a choice. People in the Real World could choose a life plugged in and Under Eighteens could choose a life unplugged. We could have a future in only one world or the other, but the decision had always been ours to make.

Until now.

Suddenly the App World felt like a prison.

I looked around at all the wealthy guests in this cathedral, joyfully applauding. Lacy Mills and her family, who profited off the consumption of App pornography. The Harrisons, who profited off the App World citizens' need to be voyeurs. The Jeffries, who grew rich off the desires of people to look like supermodels, and the Monikers, whose wealth depended on people's violent impulses and desire for dominance. The list could go on. It was in their interests that we have no other choice but to live our lives on one download after the other, for all eternity. They stood to profit the most because of our inability to leave.

“Hooray for the Cure,” Emory Specter shouted. His smile was so wide I thought it might break his face in half. “The App World 2.0 is almost here!”

People leapt to their feet.

They gave Emory Specter a standing ovation.

The noise was deafening.

Jonathan Holt stared at his colleague. He didn't join in on the cheering. When the Defense Minister stepped down from the podium and returned to his seat, Holt got up and lingered onstage a moment longer, looking out over the crowd. Then his attention went to the hologram of his son floating high above everyone's heads and stayed there for a long time, before sweeping over the other holograms of the lost, reminding the crowd why we had come today.

The cheering finally died out.

“Thank you again for coming to pay your respects,” the Prime Minister said evenly. “I wish you all well. I leave you in peace and stability on the Apps,” he added, as though there was a bad taste in his mouth. He walked off the stage and straight out of the cathedral. He only paused twice on his way to the doors.

The first was when he waited next to the first pew for Lady Holt to join him.

The second was when he approached the place where I was sitting.

His steps slowed, as though he was tired and gathering his breath. His head turned, only slightly, but enough so that his gaze swept over the crowd. It didn't come to rest until it met with mine. I sat there, frozen, looking into the eyes of Rain Holt's father, still unable to believe
they were looking straight back at me. This time, I knew I wasn't imagining it.

Something flickered across Jonathan Holt's face.

Guilt
, I thought.

Quickly, he looked away.

Then the Prime Minister and Lady Holt continued up the aisle.

At dinner that night, Mrs. Sachs downloaded a simple meal of something round and white that was supposed to be chicken, with long orange spears on the side. We took our places at the table, and I was reminded of the last time I'd sat down to eat with the Sachses, how the night had ended with Jonathan Holt's announcement about the border closing. For a long time, no one spoke. The only sound was of silverware clinking against plates. The Defense Minister's words weighed heavily. I was curious what Mr. and Mrs. Sachs thought about his announcement, if they were relieved like so many others, or if they were disturbed like I was.

“I'll go download the Dessert App,” Inara said when it was clear that none of us could eat any more.

Mrs. Sachs gave her a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said quietly.

Inara got up and stacked the plates of her mother and father on top of her own. She hesitated when she got to mine. “Skye, you barely touched your dinner.”

“It's okay. I'm done.”

Inara took my plate and disappeared into the kitchen.

I swallowed. “Mrs. Sachs? Mr. Sachs?”

They turned to me.

Mrs. Sachs set her wineglass down. “Yes, Skylar?”

I eyed the doorway. Inara would be back any minute. “I just, um, I wanted to thank you both.”

Mr. Sachs dabbed his napkin to his lips, formal as always. “Thank us for what?”

Sadness, like a big, gaping mouth, opened around me. I would miss them. I would miss all of this. The dinners. The time spent here. So much of my life had happened at this house. Most of all, I would miss Inara, my best friend in both worlds. My virtual sister. “I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me ever since the day I plugged in.”

Mrs. Sachs searched my face. “Don't be silly. You're practically a member of this family.”

I nodded.

But in truth, the word
practically
dug into me like sharp fingernails. Stung like a splash of cold water. That was the thing: I could only ever
practically
be a member of their family, despite all of Inara's claims that this wasn't true.
Almost
but
not quite
part. Like family but never actually family. An adopted daughter or even a surrogate one, but not the biological equivalent. For that, I had to go to the Real World.