Unplugged Page 8

  What happened next, Lacy obviously couldn’t have predicted, or she would have confessed her feelings where the paparazzi cams couldn’t follow, like inside their school.

  Rain gripped Lacy’s arms—which made her sigh—but then he physically lifted her up and moved her to the side. The look on his face was one of pity, or maybe sympathy. “I’m sorry, Lacy. I just . . . can’t,” he said, and then walked away, leaving Lacy standing there alone, with only her voyeurs for company.

  Lacy’s skin drained of its color. The dress still sparkled but her eyes lost their wicked shine. I waited to hear her reaction, to see what she said next, how she recovered from that level of public humiliation, but the hologram buzzed and zapped, got smaller, and disappeared. The remaining nine icons from my search returned, circling my virtual self. One of them neared my left eye, then darted to the right.

  I grabbed a pillow the color of the ocean and pulled it to me, hugging it.

  So Lacy was in love with Rain. She’d planned a big public unveiling of her feelings and he’d rejected her in front of all her fans. And now she planned on rescuing him and returning him to the App World.

  Why?

  Was she still in love with him and believed if she offered him a way home he would be grateful and love her back? Or did she hate him so much she wanted to force him home, against his will? She did say Rain would require some convincing. I wondered what could keep him so tied to the Real World.

  The second priciest App lunged at me.

  I ducked as it zoomed to my left, then reached out and touched it, waiting for Lacy to appear again, curious what new information I’d learn about this girl who’d become so important to my future. And I would need to study Rain a bit closer this time. He was more of a mystery. Much harder to read.

  Eventually I fell into shutdown while the holograms still played around me.

  I dreamed of Rain, but not Lacy.

  Not Lacy at all.

  I didn’t know why.

  8

  Masquerade

  THE MORNING OF the funeral arrived.

  Something nudged at my cheek. When I opened my eyes an App was hovering in front of my face. With consciousness came a saved chat from Inara.

  For you. Something nice to wear. Download it. Please? xoxo

  I studied the icon. It started out as a pale blue gift box tied up with a looping white bow. As it became aware of my waking state it began to transform. The bow untied and the box fell away. Ribbons twirled around the image of a V-neck dress, clingy and short, that kept shifting color. The style kept changing as I watched. Strapless, column, ball gown with bustle, tie-dyed, sequined, satin, chiffon, seawater, starlight, and silk. The icon turned in a circle so I could admire each new gown. I had no way of knowing what sort of dress would appear on my virtual self until I downloaded it, but one thing I knew for sure was that it was pricey. The kind of App only the Sachses could afford.

  Skye?

  Hey, I chatted Inara back. Good morning. I got your present.

  I know you’re upset about the funeral and people like Jenna make you angry but this isn’t about being like Jenna, okay?

  The icon shifted again to reveal a long, beaded gown, the kind girls wore in Miss App World pageants. I sighed. You know I don’t wear dresses. Like ever.

  It’s just one day, Inara chatted. Besides, this was my mother’s idea. She gave me one too.

  Mrs. Sachs, who was always so kind to me. I might not have been her biological daughter, but she tried her best to do what she could for me. Fine. I’ll download it. I better not end up in some widow outfit.

  Ew, no! My mother would never let us attend a serious event as widows.

  Okay. See you in a few.

  The icon showed a pink princess dress with a wide bell of a skirt and puffy sleeves. I waited until it began to shift into something else, just in case the timing of the download might affect what the dress would look like. I hoped the App would choose what would work best for my virtual self.

  I reached out and touched it.

  The download initiated. I closed my eyes as the App seeped into my code. A slow chill began to work its way through me, starting with the finger I used to touch the icon, then spreading to my forearm and my elbow and up to my shoulder, across my collarbone to my other arm and onward down my torso to my feet.

  So the dress would be long.

  My body tingled with what felt like tiny flecks of ice.

  Unlike last night, this time, the cold was pleasant.

  The bonding process began and the chill dissipated. As the download knit itself into my code, my virtual self started to heat up, like the dress was being welded to me. I’d always enjoyed this part. There was something wonderful about all that warmth. It made me feel safe. At least while it lasted.

  Finally, it dealt with my hair. There was tugging and smoothing.

  This part of an Appearance App I’d always loathed.

  Abruptly, the download stopped.

  I opened my eyes and called up my self-image.

  The mirror hologram showed a version of me that looked uncomfortable. But this Skye didn’t look horrible. The gown Mrs. Sachs chose was steel-blue silk. It was long and plain, with just a slight tuck to define my waist. The top was strapless, a straight line across my chest. My hair was pulled away from my face into a high knot at the back of my head. Simple blue shoes peeked out from under the hem. I lifted my foot to better see them. They were flat.

  For some reason this detail made me want to cry.

  A sad smile appeared on the hologram Skye’s face.

  Mrs. Sachs knew me well.

  Are you ready? Inara chatted. We’re almost to your corner.

  Be there in a minute.

  I took one last look before swiping my hand across the mirror hologram. The other Skye disappeared.

  On my way out of the building, I ran into Adam. He wore the standard-issue black pants and black T-shirt of Singles on a day off from school. His eyes traveled from my bare shoulders to my feet. Then he scowled. “You’re going to the funeral like that?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t like the way Adam was staring. “The dress was a gift from the people who invited me.”

  “A funeral isn’t a party, Skye,” he said, using the very same words I’d spoken to Jenna.

  Shame burned across my skin. “I know, Adam,” I said, already turning to go. “I never said it was.”

  Inara absently twirled her long necklace of pearls around her finger as the Sachses and I neared the clearing in the park. She’d downloaded a tank dress of light green taffeta that reached her feet. It resembled mine enough that it reminded me of those times when we were small and would download the Twinning App every chance we got. I linked my arm through hers as she gaped at the elaborate building looming ahead of us.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Mrs. Sachs joined us, staring up at the massive church, coded especially for the occasion. “I heard it was designed to be a composite of famous places of worship in the Real World.”

  Gothic towers pointed toward the sunny sky. Arches jutted out from the stone walls like giant spider’s legs. Gargoyles glared at imaginary enemies, their mouths wide, tongues lolling. A great round window of colored glass sparkled high above the doors. Statues of various members of the government stared out from either side of the entrance, the one of Marcus Holt, the inventor of the first plug, taller than all the others. Eleanor Holt, his wife, and the Original Architect of the City, stood next to him, carved in stone. Rain’s grandparents. Eleanor and Marcus Holt were already elderly when they’d plugged in, their bodies old and infirm and unsustainable. They only managed to live here during the first few years of the App World’s existence. The last important funeral in this City was theirs.

  How strange that the next one would also involve a Holt.

  Inara leaned against me. “What are you thinking?”

  I adjusted the top of my dress. There was a reason I never wore
clothes like this. “The cathedral is pretty. Maybe a bit overdone.”

  The other guests milled around us. They talked and gestured excitedly. There were women in elaborate gowns that belled out to three times their wearers’ width or had long trains of silky fabric dotted with tiny roses and peonies that trailed after them as they walked. Hair cascaded in waves down backs or was piled high on top of ladies’ heads, tendrils artfully hanging around their faces. Men wore black suits, some so shiny they looked to be made of vinyl. And these were just the conservatively dressed funeral goers. A woman walked by wearing a gown that seemed made of the ocean itself, with silvery fish swimming across it in hues of orange and green and blue. Another looked like a great peacock had loaned her its feathers. More than a few women and men had downloaded Apps that turned them into models on top of the outrageous costumes they’d chosen to wear.

  Inara’s eyes followed a woman in head-to-toe black lace, a black bridal veil framing her face and falling all the way to her feet. She held a large snow globe with a statue of Rain at its center in her outstretched hands.

  “And I thought Jenna was going to look like a fool,” I said.

  “I did too,” Inara said quietly. Then her attention was caught by Simon Best, who’d just arrived with his parents. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Sure.” Mr. and Mrs. Sachs were nearby talking to some friends, but I felt alone in this crowd. I watched as people shrieked and air-kissed. I was about to go up to Inara and Simon when I almost tripped on the hem of my gown. Carefully, I bent down to extract my shoe from the delicate fabric. When I straightened up I was staring into the eyes of Lacy Mills.

  Lacy blinked back her surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  She wore an emerald-green dress, skintight and long. Draped across her arms, her wrists, and her neck were long strings of diamonds, the kind that only come from downloading the Tiffany App. She was so laden with jewels it looked as though she shouldn’t be able to hold up the top half of her body.

  I felt dull next to so much beauty and glitter. “I’m going to the funeral, same as you.” All I could think about was the pain of last night, the way Lacy so carelessly broke into our minds. “Should you even be talking to me?”

  The left half of Lacy’s mouth curled upward. “Oh, I’ll just tell anyone who asks that I’m doing charity work. Bestowing niceties on the less fortunate. Gracing Singles with my presence.”

  It was difficult to believe someone so famous could be so consistently cruel. “We got your download.”

  Lacy laughed, like we were having a wonderful time. “Did you enjoy it?” Diamonds swayed as she moved. She wagged a ring-adorned finger. “You Singles shouldn’t be getting together without me. I just hate feeling left out.”

  “This isn’t a game.”

  Lacy eyed me. “People keep saying that.”

  In my mind, I imagined raising one arm in the air and lashing out at Lacy.

  She immediately put a hand to her cheek. “Ooh, I’m so scared!”

  I licked my lips. Everything felt dry. “Stay out of my head, Lacy.”

  Her eyes grew cold. Tiny crystals of frost dotted her cheeks. “Listen up, Skylar. You don’t get to give me orders. And don’t flatter yourself. It’s not as though your mind is a terribly interesting place. I only go there when I must.”

  I swallowed, trying to maintain control of my emotions. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Inara looking around to see where I was. Her eyes got wide when she realized I was talking to Lacy, and she hurried toward me. “Skye?”

  “Um, Inara, this is—”

  Lacy stretched out her diamond-laden fingers. “Hello. Lovely to meet you.”

  A stunned Inara took Lacy’s hand.

  Lacy pulled it away quickly as though Inara’s skin was diseased. “I was just extending my condolences to this sad, lost little Single, doing my patriotic duty and all. Got to go, though! The funeral awaits my celebrity presence.”

  We watched her totter away on heels too high for anyone to walk in without the help of a special App.

  “Do you know who that was?” Inara asked.

  “I may not keep up with the Gossip Apps,” I said, “but I’m not dead.”

  “I can’t believe Lacy Mills was hanging out with you,” Inara said, sounding jealous.

  “Trust me, you didn’t miss anything,” I said. “She’s just as awful in person as she is on Reel Time.”

  Inara studied me. “How did you end up talking to her?”

  I watched Lacy swerve through the crowd, air-kissing people as she went. I shrugged. “It was just as Lacy told you,” I said, hoping my answer would satisfy Inara and put the topic to rest. A line of long black cars drove up and distracted her.

  “That must be the families of the dead,” Inara said.

  The crowd hushed. They pointed and whispered.

  The first limousine came to a stop by the door, the engine purring softly. Out of the back stepped Jonathan Holt, followed by his wife, a long black veil covering her face. The Prime Minister wore a black suit. His virtual skin was off-color. Almost gray. He took Lady Holt’s hand and led her to the cathedral’s entrance. Their heads were bowed. I hadn’t seen the Prime Minister since the night of the announcement. The look in his eyes then—and that of his son’s—was burned into my mind.

  The doors opened wide.

  Before entering, Jonathan Holt stopped. He stared up at the cut-glass windows, then lowered his gaze to the statues of government officials, one of which was in his likeness. His eyes lingered there, as though he wasn’t sure what to make of his presence carved in virtual stone. His attention shifted to Marcus and Eleanor, his parents. He walked over to them, studying their faces.

  “How moving,” said a woman’s voice from the crowd. This was followed by giggling and more whispering.

  Without acknowledging the other guests, Jonathan Holt returned to his wife, and they disappeared inside. One by one, the rest of the grieving families emerged from the other cars. They were the only people who truly seemed to know the meaning of the occasion, who’d come to this event to pay their respects and say good-bye. The rest of the funeral goers wanted to ogle and whisper and be part of a spectacle, everyone laughing, as though sadness wasn’t an emotion they’d known in their lifetimes. When the last family entered, everyone else began to file in after them.

  Inara and I got in the slow-moving line. I searched for Mr. and Mrs. Sachs and caught sight of them just before they made it through the doors ahead. It seemed impossible that we would all fit inside this building. A woman wearing a gown made of black calla lilies was in front of us, the perfume of the flowers filling the atmosphere. The woman behind us reached a long, gloved hand between Inara and me, and tapped the other’s shoulder.

  “What App did you download for that dress?” she asked. “It’s lovely. So unique!”

  The woman turned, releasing even more of a flowery scent into the air. She smiled at her admirer. “My husband had it created special for today. It’s a Juniper Jones original.” She plucked a lily from her dress and handed it to the lady behind us. Its stem grazed my cheek. “These are mourning flowers. Isn’t that so apropos?”

  I resisted the urge to cover my nose. I thought I might choke on the smell.

  The woman buried her nose in the flower. “I’m so jealous.”

  They continued to talk over us.

  Inara rolled her eyes. Let’s let this lady up front? she chatted.

  I nodded. As best as we could, we stepped aside so the woman behind us could squeeze by. Which landed us right next to Jenna.

  “Hi, guys,” she said, all too loudly.

  Be nice, Skye, Inara warned in my brain. “Hey, Jenna.”

  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 el
se, 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?