My mark.The words are harsh and cutting. I think back to the grin on young Sasuke’s face in Hideo’s Memory, when they were both at the park. I puzzle over the deep wounds that Sasuke left behind in Hideo and his family when he disappeared. This is a boy who had been loved deeply. Now he doesn’t seem to care at all.
“But—” I say, faltering, “whathappenedto you? You vanished when you were a little boy. Where did you go? Why are you called Zero?”
“Jax didn’t warn me about how curious you are,” he replies. “I guess this is what makes you a good bounty hunter.”
The way he’s responding reminds me of code stuck in an infinite loop, going round and round in useless circles, or politicians who know exactly how to evade a question they don’t want to answer. People who can turn a question on you to take the heat off themselves.
Maybe Zero doesn’t want to answer me. Maybe he doesn’t evenknow. Whatever the reason, I won’t be getting anything out of him voluntarily—nothing more than these piecemeal replies. I shove down the urge to keep pressing him. If he won’t tell me himself, then I’ll have to gather info on my own.
So I try a different kind of question. “What are you planning?” I force myself to say.
“We’re going to insert a virus into Hideo’s algorithm,” Zero says. He holds his hand out, and a glowing data packet appears over his palm. “The instant it’s in, it will trigger a chain reaction that deletes the algorithm entirely and cripples the NeuroLink itself. But to do this successfully, we have to launch it from inside Hideo’s own account, his actual mind. And we have to do this onthe day of the closing ceremony, at the very moment when the beta lenses finally connect to the algorithm.”
I guess the rumor about when the beta lenses would convert to algorithm lenses is true, after all. It makes sense—theoretically, there’ll be a split-second delay when the beta lenses are hooked into the algorithm but not yet influenced by it. When it’s setting itself up. That’s the only chance they’ll get to insert a virus.
“And when, exactly, are the beta lenses connecting to the algorithm?” I ask.
“Right at the start of the closing ceremony’s game.”
I look sidelong at him. How does he know so much about Hideo’s plans? “So, I’m going to have to get into his mind,” I repeat. “Literally.”
“As literal as it gets,” Zero replies. “And the only way into the algorithm—into his mind—is for Hideo himself to allow it. That’s where you come in.”
“You want me to warm up to Hideo.”
“I want you to do whatever it takes.”
“He’ll never go for it,” I reply. “After our last encounter, I doubt he’ll ever want to see me again. He already suspects I’m out to stop him.”
“I think you underestimate his feelings for you.” He waves his hand once.
The world around us disappears, then wraps us both inside news footage of Hideo leaving an event while being swarmed on all sides by anxious reporters and fans. This is from two nights ago, after Hideo had announced the rematch between the Phoenix Riders and Team Andromeda.
His bodyguards shout and push, cutting a path for him, and a good many paces behind him walks Kenn, who looks pale and distraught. I’ve never seen the two of them like this, walking sofar apart. As the security team forms a stern line in front of the crowds, one of the reporters shouts a question at Hideo.
Are you still dating Emika Chen? Are you two an item?
Hideo doesn’t react to the question—at least, not obviously. But I can see the tightening of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. His eyes stay turned down, focused intensely on the path before him.
I look away from Hideo’s haunted expression, but it remains seared into my mind. “Butyou’rehis real weakness,” I insist, forcing myself to concentrate. “You must know that! Hideo would do anything for you.”
“We have discussed Hideo’s potential responses to me,” Zero says casually, as if he were telling me about the weather. “He hasn’t seen me in a decade—his reaction to me won’t be directed at me, but at the Blackcoats. And it will be revenge he’s seeking. So, we need someone with one degree of separation. You.”
He speaks of Hideo as if his brother were nothing more than target practice—when I search his gaze, all I see is darkness, something impenetrable and unfeeling. It’s like looking at a person who isn’t a person at all.
I lean against the desk and bow my head. “Fine,” I mumble. “How do you suggest I do this?”
Zero finally smiles. “You're going to break into Hideo’s mind. And I’m going to show you how.”
7
“Come join mein the Dark World,” Zero says. He waves his hand once again, and a screen appears between us, asking me if I want to Link with him for a session.
A direct connection with Zero. What kind of thoughts and emotions would I get from him? I hesitate for another moment, then reach out and accept our Link. The hotel room around me darkens at the edges until I can’t make out Zero’s face anymore. A few seconds later, I’ve sunken into a pitch-black abyss.
I hold my breath at the familiar, drowning sensation that always settles over me right before I go down under to the Dark World.
Then, slowly, it materializes.
