Chapter 28.
The rooftop greenhouse shimmered under layers of solar glass, glowing with a subtle bioluminescence that pulsed in time with the soft techno drifting from hidden speakers. Laughter rippled through the air, echoing between hanging pots of fungi and vertical vine lattices strung with fiber-optic moss – the noise and the distance between tables allowed people to speak freely. I closed my eyes for a moment, deeply breathing in the scent of damp soil and citrus-coded air filtration. If it weren’t for the fresh air, places like this would easily be too overwhelming for me.
Elyssa and Lucie weren’t here yet, and it was just the three of us – Joey, Raphael and me. Discomfort crawled on my skin like a thousand spiders.
It had been days since our visit to the biotech facility, and Joey had been ignoring my texts ever since. In fact, I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable realization that Elyssa’s mediation was the only reason we were all here together now. That, and our common goal to put an end to a seemingly invincible villain. How does one defeat corporate tech?
“So.” I cleared my throat, frantically trying to make conversation like neurotypicals would – and to think Joey was usually the only person I could fully be myself around. Well, he and Zafyra, but I didn’t allow myself to think about her now. “Nice weather.”
Joey finally turned to look at me, his lip curling in disdain and something deeper – hurt. “I’m sorry, Morgan, I’m having a really hard time talking to you now without seeing that visual engraved on my retinas…” He shuddered, “…of your face buried between the legs of the woman who’d just tried to kill me.” He spat out the last words.
I quickly lowered my gaze, my cheeks burning. God, why did this place have to be so hot, so damp?
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” I sighed. “If it helps, I did tell her I wasn’t okay with what she did. I even walked out and said I wouldn’t talk to her until she apologized.” The pride swelling in my chest was probably misplaced – wasn’t an apology the bare minimum to demand from the person who almost killed my best friend?
“Wow, you walked out.” Joey snorted. “Before or after you made her come?”
I sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth.
Damn it.
Raphael cleared his throat. “Look, I’m not trying to pick a side here,” he said cautiously. “But as a diplomat, I do have to state Zafyra can be quite manipulative.” He grimaced. “All I’m saying is that Morgan cares about you and she never meant for you to get hurt,” he quickly added upon seeing Joey’s scowl. “Zafyra used me, too, remember?”
Joey clenched his jaw, fixing his gaze on the potted fungus in front of him so he wouldn’t have to look at either of us. “And yet, I don’t see you sleeping with her.”
“Oh, God, no.” Raphael shuddered. “That woman is far from my type.”
Joey hesitated. I watched him struggle not to ask the question that burned on his tongue. “What is your type?”
Raphael took a deep breath. His symmetrically shaped brows furrowed as he thought it through.
“When I was still in the app, my type used to be… whatever woman was currently talking to me.” He tilted his head. “Now that I’m in this new world… I’m beginning to question things.”
“Oh, really?” Joey turned slightly, his torso now facing the man next to him. “Like what?”
Raphael lowered his eyes – for a moment, I thought I saw a blush warming his dark cheeks.
“Dude.” I flinched at Lucie’s loud noise, right behind me. I turned to see her next to Elyssa, staring at Raphael with raised eyebrows. “Why are you still wearing the same suit every time? You know you’re now free to invent your own style, right?”
“So? Just because I can doesn’t mean I must,” Raphael shot back, folding his hands in front of him. “Maybe I like my suits – they’re the only part of my identity I can take with me. You are free to proceed with…” He pointed a finger in Lucie’s direction, “…whatever it is you’re doing here.”
I bit my lip to stifle a laugh, relieved to be saved from the awkward situation. Lucie seemed to re-invent herself every time we saw her. She had now replaced her cybergoth style with something more hipster-like – loose, flowered pants, looking like she’d stitched on the patches herself, combined with a denim jacket, a colorful scarf and sunglasses.
Elyssa chuckled. “Okay, but you have to admit – she has a talent. Did you know she makes all her clothes herself?” She smiled at me. “Hey, Morgan.”
Good. At least one person didn’t hate me today.
I forced a small smile back. “Hi.”
“So, how does this work?” Lucie didn’t sit down beside us like Elyssa but started exploring the space instead, curious hands traveling over the pots and vines. “Can we just order anything here?”
“To order drinks, we can press the big button on the table and choose from the holographic menu or with voice commands. But this place doesn’t sell beer or cocktails – it’s a little hipster place.” Elyssa sat up straighter, clearly passionate about the place she’d picked out for us. Excitement swelled in my chest – sharing an interest meant we had something to bond over. “All organic, homegrown juices and snacks, like kombucha or—wait, no!” Elyssa yelled out when Lucie ripped off a big piece of fungi. “Oh my god. Lucie, you can’t eat the mushrooms! They’re for decoration,” she hissed, eyes anxiously scanning the terrace. Thankfully, no one was looking our way.
Lucie frowned. “Why not?” she mumbled, her mouth full of fungi.
Raphael cleared his throat. “I feel like I should clarify that fungi are incredibly nutritious for humanoid-fungi bodies like ours,” he explained, looking slightly embarrassed. “They help our tissue repair and restore faster. They keep our skin young and our internal organs well-connected. We can consume them either through oral ingestion or absorption, but Lucie…” He scowled like an annoyed parent. “Now that we are among the humans, we should behave like them. Can you imagine what the people will say if they realize we are not born, but grown-slash-built? They will want to take pictures with us, or worse, mold us into their cold billionaire AI husbands.” He grimaced.
“I see the trauma runs deep,” Joey muttered.
