Скотт Вестерфельд - Extras

"And you're Aya's famous older brother," Frizz said, then frowned. "But probably not so famous anymore, compared to her."

Hiro's eyes widened, and Aya grabbed his arm.

"Go do something else, Hiro," she commanded. Radical Honesty was anxiety-making enough without her older brother around.

Smiling, Ren dragged Hiro away toward a group of kickers waiting for interviews.

"I've only got a minute, Frizz. I'm supposed to answer questions soon. But I'm glad you came!"

"I missed you." He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. "I never got to say sorry in person for getting you slammed."

Aya looked away, trembling a little under his manga gaze. "It wasn't your fault, Frizz—I should have been more careful. And being Slime Queen was kind of… interesting."

"After tonight they won't call you that anymore." He took her arm. "But I never thought of you as slimy."

She dared his gaze again, speaking too softly for the buzzing hovercams to hear. "But remember what you said that day? That you weren't sure what kind of person I was? Do you see now why I had to lie to get this story?"

It was Frizz who looked away this time. "It sounded awful, betraying friends like that. But I get it now." He sighed. "I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth."

He looked so sad saying those words that Aya wrapped her arms around him again, squeezing tight. She didn't care how many hovercams were watching, or how many slammer feeds compared her ugliness to Frizz's beauty.

"But I'll never lie to you, Frizz." She felt his muscles tighten.

"Then tell me one thing," he said.

"Anything."

"If you hadn't found the city killer, if this story was just about the Sly Girls and their mag-lev surfing, would you have kicked it anyway?"

Aya pulled away. Frizz wasn't stupid; he'd noticed that her truth-slanting had started long before she'd known about the city killer.

But would she have betrayed them, just to get famous? Like Miki had said, surfing through the wild had been so brain-expanding, and the more time Aya had spent with them, the more the Sly Girls had started to feel like friends. She could have changed her mind…maybe.

Was it lying if you weren't certain about the truth?

She cleared her throat. "When I joined the Sly Girls, I was just looking for a story any story. But after talking to you that day, I was starting to wonder."

He nodded. "So you'd already changed your mind?"

Aya looked up into his manga eyes—he wanted to believe her. It would be so easy just to agree.

And why make Frizz sad? It wasn't like she could ever be incognito again. After tonight everyone would know Aya Fuse was a kicker—no more lying for stories. So what did it matter if she was a truth-slanting Slime Queen just one last time?

"It all happened so fast," she said. "First it was just tricks, then suddenly the whole world was at stake." She looked away. "But no … I couldn't have done that to them."

Frizz pulled her close again. "That's a relief."

Aya squeezed her eyes shut, hiding from her own doubts. Frizz had believed her, just like that.

Maybe it wasn't such a stretch—the whole question was hypothetical, after all.

It would be crazy to throw Frizz away forever, when the price of keeping him was one little stretch of the truth.

"Um, Aya?" Frizz whispered in her ear. "I think your brother wants you."

She grasped him tighter. "I don't care."

"Actually, it's not just Hiro. It's sort of… lots of people."

Aya sighed and pulled away, glancing over his shoulder. When she saw them all, her jaw dropped open.

The feeding frenzy had begun.

There were dozens of people waiting. Ren was arranging them on the mansion's main staircase, with the most famous closest to the bottom. About half were tech-heads with crazy surge and smart-matter clothes, the rest looking out of place here at the bash—ego-kickers, newsies, a handful of city officials. Some big faces, some not.

But all of them were here to see her.

Hiro took Aya's arm and gently propelled her toward an empty spot at the bottom of the stairs.

Several hundred hovercams were focused on her now, in constant motion as they jostled for the best angles, shadowing her every step. Aya felt strangely small under their collective gaze, as insignificant as that first night she'd surfed into the wild.

But this was the opposite of obscurity, she reminded herself. This was what she'd always wanted—for people to watch her, to pay attention to every word she said.

"Eyescreen off," Hiro whispered. "You'll need your whole brain for this."

Aya nodded and flexed her ring finger. But as she stared up at the attentive faces before her, all suddenly crystal clear, the answers she'd practiced the night before started flying from her head.

"Um, this is kind of paralyzing," she said softly.

Hiro squeezed her arm. "I'll be right here."

She nodded and cleared her throat. "Okay, lets start."

The questions came hard and fast.

"How did you find the Sly Girls, Aya?"

"Just lucky, I guess. I just saw them surfing one night, and tracked them down at a party like this one."

"Why are some shots in the background layer altered?"

Aya cleared her throat, wondering how anyone had watched all those hours so quickly. "The Sly Girls wanted anonymity. So I scrubbed a few faces. That's all."

"You're not hiding anyone else?"

"Like who?"

"The builders of the mass driver."

"Of course not!"

"So you don't know anything about them?"

Aya paused, wishing she'd mentioned the inhuman-looking figures in her story. But it was such a crazy claim, and she didn't have a single shot to back it up. Alien builders would be a million times more implausible if she brought them up now.

"Why would I protect them?

Whoever built the city killer is crazy. Or did you miss the city-killing part?"

"Isn't that title a little hype-making, Aya?" another kicker asked. "A few tons of falling steel can't really destroy a city, can it?"

Aya smiled. Ren had made sure she was ready for this one. "At reentry velocities, it only takes a small projectile to knock out a hoverstrut-supported building. So if a cylinder splits into thousands of pieces…well, you do the math. Or better yet, ask that woman over there to do it. The one with the puzzle cube."

"Couldn't we stop the cylinders? Like the Rusties used to shoot down rockets?"

She'd looked this one up herself. "The Rusties never got very good at intercepting city killers—except in their own propaganda. And rockets trail big plumes of smoke. Slivers of metal would be tiny and invisible."

"Why do you think they left the mountain empty?"

"Ren Machino, who helped me with all this, thinks the mass driver was designed to be completely automatic."

"Do you think there could be more of these things in the world?"

She blinked. "I sure hope not."

"With the metal shortage going on, where do you think they got all that steel?"

"I have no idea."

"What made you want to be a kicker, Aya?"

"Um …" She paused, unready for this one, though Hiro had warned her that there was always some bubble-head asking personal questions, no matter how important a story was. "After the mind-rain I was having trouble figuring out the world. And telling other peoples stories is a good way to do that."

The kicker smiled. "Isn't that the same answer your big brother always gives?"

"Oh, crap … no comment," Aya said. At the sound of their laughter, she smiled and finally relaxed a little.

"What kind of face do you want when you turn sixteen?" a fashion-kicker shouted from the back.

"I don't know yet. I'm sort of partial to manga-heads."

"So we noticed, Slime Queen!"