Black Marion

21

The remaining months of 2581 passed in the obscure way of negligible work years. CyberSec Investigation handed Alex a support role in their cybercrime division, targeting high profile upper Sky cases—mostly white collar transgressions, rarely life-threatening. Perhaps it was all these years double-dealing the State, but Alex found herself quite adept at criminal investigation. More often than not, her seniors took credit for her work, convincing others that the architect was too preoccupied with building code to solve crimes; she didn't mind this, preferring to stay in the shadows while she worked, by night, on a program to counteract the System.

By February of the next year, she had groomed through the full code of the Astrid Tree. It was more complex than she had anticipated, even given the five-dimensional nature of its readability. She was staggered to come up with a way to even temporarily disable a single Tag without killing the Tagged, but then CyberSec began floating rumors of investigating midground security hacks. Afraid it was related to Bennie or Haneul, or both, Alex did anything she could think of: she constructed a redacted model of the Tree within her own private domain, and by spring of '82, she was running a dozen different trials on it a week.

Processing speed turned out to be an issue. April, she burned her income to upgrade her port machine, until it ran only a fraction slower than the highest tier equipment housed in the towers of CyberSec.

April, the exhaustion also weighed heavier. She ate quick bars instead of meals, tabs instead of sleeping. Pilled supplements governed her life, except when she needed to hide them. She was careful about her doctor's visits, who fortunately dismissed her symptoms as an incurable case of insomnia. She was more careful about her monthly meet-ups with Vaughn. At least those had resumed the old normalcy, never once mentioning that uncomfortable night on her birthday; the only difference, it seemed, was that Alex ended up spending more time at the Regent's house than outing elsewhere.

One morning, she woke up in a bed far softer than her own, smelling of rose mint. It had been so long since she'd the luxury to dream that she mistook this reality for a dream. Only after she'd crawled out of the silk covers and spotted the photograms on the vanity did she realize she was in Vaughn's bedroom.

The first thing she thought of was the August kiss. For a moment she feared they'd stepped over the line. But she remembered nothing of the sort, and her clothes were properly on, albeit shoeless and jacketless, and there was no alcohol on her breath. She must have fallen asleep then, while they were watching the latest episode of the medical show? Embarrassed, she wandered out to the kitchen, where the Regent was preparing breakfast.

"Vaughn?"

The man glanced up from a smoking pan. Smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Good morning."

Alex inspected his face, then looked away blushing. "Good morning. Thank you for letting me stay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be trouble..."

"Not trouble," said Vaughn, plating an omelette. "I'm glad for the company. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. That smells delicious."

"It's all yours."

Moments later, they were seated in the dining room, watching morning fall across the state. Vaughn was quieter than his usual self, although perhaps he was simply like this in the mornings. Alex didn't press him to speak either, so they were nearly finished with the meal when the silence broke.

"Are you happy, Alex?"

Alex paused with her last bite on her fork. She looked up, surprised. "Hm?"

Vaughn pushed his plate slightly away from himself. He was staring at the rim of it. "I've just been thinking. August, when we went out for your birthday, you seemed happy. Genuinely happy. And I haven't seen you like that since." He paused. "Actually, on the contrary, you seem tired."