JUNE MILLER POV
The rooftop air was beginning to turn sharp and chilly, but the heat of the triple-chocolate milkshake in my stomach was keeping the shivers at bay. I was still trying to process everything Eve had said—about us being "foundations" and "weeds"—when she suddenly hopped off the rusted ledge of the cannery.
"Right," Eve said, clapping her hands together. The sound was as sharp as a gunshot in the quiet afternoon. "The emotional debrief is concluded. Now, we address the tactical deficit. Both of you are currently digitally blind, and quite frankly, it's making me nervous."
I blinked, still coming down from the deep conversation. "Digitally blind?"
"Your phones, June," Eve said, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You lost yours to the 'background noise' in the alley, and Becky's device was fried by the Nun's resonance at the church. In this era, a human without a mobile uplink is basically a wandering target. We are going shopping."
"Eve, I can't afford a new phone right now," I said, my face heating up. "Between the hospital bills for Becky and the fact that I just walked out on my shift, my bank account is looking pretty grim."
"Did I ask for your credit score?" Eve asked, her voice sliding back into that effortless, aristocratic silkiness. "I didn't. I am a Masterpiece. My Father has allocated a nearly offensive amount of currency to our 'assimilation fund.' Consider this a gift from the only two Impulse users in existence. Or, if it makes your fragile human ego feel better, consider it a retainer fee for being our local guides."
Becky's eyes lit up. "Are we talking the 'Titan-12'? The ones with the holographic display?"
"We are talking about whatever makes you reachable," Eve said, already heading for the roof's access door. "Come. The SUV is waiting at the bottom of the block."
The ride to the Apex Flagship store in the Diamond District was a blur of tinted windows and leather seats. Sitting between Eve and Becky, I felt like a smudge of grease on a silk sheet. I was still wearing my denim jacket—the one with the hidden 'deterrent' Eve had whispered about—and my knees were still throbbing. But as we pulled up to the glass-and-steel monolith of the store, the adrenaline started to kick back in.
The store was a cathedral of light. It smelled of ozone, new plastic, and the kind of money that usually stayed far away from Sector 4. As we walked in, the same salesperson I'd seen in my head earlier—the one with the gelled hair and the name tag that said Caleb—approached us. He took one look at Eve's gray leather coat and practically tripped over his own feet to get to her.
"Welcome back, Miss! Is there something wrong with the previous units?" Caleb asked, his voice trembling with the hope of a high-commission sale.
"The previous units are fine," Eve said, not even looking at him. She pointed a manicured finger at me and then at Becky. "These two require replacements. The best you have. Encrypted, high-capacity, and I want them synced to my personal cloud immediately."
"Of course! The Apex Zenith? It just released this morning. It has a neural-sync interface and—"
"Just get them," Eve interrupted.
While Caleb scurried away, Becky started wandering through the displays of smart-jewelry, her mouth hanging open. I stayed by Eve's side, feeling the weight of the store's "Wool." It was thick here—everyone was so obsessed with the shiny toys that they didn't even notice the girl with the silver-mist energy standing right in front of them.
"Eve," I whispered. "You don't have to do this. Really."
Eve turned to me, her sharp eyes softening just a fraction behind her sunglasses. "June. You stood in front of a Rift-entity for your friend. You took a kick and a choke-hold for your pride. A phone is... it's a pebble. It's nothing. If I'm going to exist in this world, I want to be able to hear your voice when I'm bored. And Adam..." She trailed off, a wicked little smirk playing on her lips. "If Adam can't text you, he starts vibrating at a frequency that messes with the hotel's Wi-Fi. It's a matter of public safety."
I laughed, the sound echoing a bit too loudly in the pristine store. "Okay. Public safety. I can get behind that."
Caleb returned with two boxes that looked like they were carved out of solid obsidian. He began the activation process, his hands shaking as he handled the devices. I watched the screens light up—a deep, vibrant blue that felt a world away from the violet gloom of the Rifts.
"There," Eve said, handing me one of the phones. "It's already loaded with my number, Adam's number, and a direct line to the chauffeur. I've also installed a localized resonance-scanner. If anyone with a signature higher than a 'mouse' gets within fifty feet of you, the phone will vibrate. Consider it an early-warning system for Nobles with bruised egos."
I took the phone, the weight of it solid and reassuring in my hand. It felt like a tether. Not to a machine, but to the people who had crashed into my life and changed it forever.
"Thank you," I said, and for the first time, I didn't feel like I was talking to a Masterpiece. I was just talking to a girl.
"Don't mention it," Eve said, though she tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Now, Becky! Stop drooling over the watches. We have three hours before the Father expects us back at the hotel, and I've been told that humans find 'frozen yogurt' to be a transformative experience."
We walked out of the store, the afternoon sun hitting the glass and turning the world into a kaleidoscope of gold and silver. For the first time in twenty-four hours, the bruises on my neck didn't feel like a death sentence. They felt like battle scars.
As we climbed back into the SUV, I felt my new phone vibrate in my palm. I looked down at the screen.
[ADAM]: June. I am told by my sister that you are currently in possession of a new uplink. Are you... functioning correctly? Brandt says I should ask if you are 'good.'
I smiled, my thumbs hovering over the glass.
[JUNE]: I'm good, Adam. Better than good. I'm having frozen yogurt with your sister. Try not to break the lighthouse while I'm gone.
I saw the "typing" bubbles appear almost instantly.
[ADAM]: The lighthouse is structurally sound. I am... relieved. Enjoy the yogurt. I am told the 'tart' flavor is the most logically consistent.
I leaned my head back against the leather seat, watching the Diamond District blur past. The world was still a mess. The Council was still watching, Jeremy was still out there somewhere, and the Rifts were still screaming in the dark. But as I looked at Becky, who was currently trying to figure out how to take a selfie with Eve, I realized that we weren't just surviving anymore.
We were living.
"Hey, Eve," I said, as the SUV turned back toward the coast.
"Yes, June?"
"The 'tart' flavor is actually the worst one. We're getting the mango-chili."
Eve wrinkled her nose. "Mango and... chili? That sounds like a chemical imbalance."
"That," I said, grinning, "is the human condition."