Скотт Вестерфельд - Extras

"Okay. No comment again."

"Do you worry that you're glorifying dangerous tricks, Aya?"

She shrugged. "I'm just telling the truth about the world."

"But you didn't tell the truth to the Sly Girls…" Aya glanced at Frizz and said, "Sometimes you have to lie to find the truth."

"Why do you think a big face like Eden Maru hangs out with the Sly Girls?"

Aya shrugged. "Like she said in that interview: to get away from you guys."

"Do you think our city built the mass driver?" someone in the back row asked—one of Toshi Banana's groupies, Aya realized.

"Why would we do that?"

"We're the closest city to the mountain. Wouldn't that make you a traitor?"

"Make me a what?"

"What if we need the mass driver to defend ourselves?"

She looked at Hiro, who said, "If this is about defending us, then shouldn't we knew about it?"

"So, Hiro?" a tech-kicker interrupted. "What's it like to be upstaged by your little sister?"

"Pretty vex-making," Hiro said, then smiled. "But much better than watching my mansion getting bombed."

The questions kept coming: Aya's childhood, her favorite kicker, plans for follow-up stories.

Endless talk about math and missiles, Sly Girls and spy-cams, parachutes and paparazzi. Every time one kicker peeled off to prepare their story for the feeds, another joined the fray, and soon the questions began to repeat. Aya tried to come up with fresh answers, but eventually found herself mouthing the same words again and again.

Finally Frizz dragged her away into a corner, promising she'd be back soon. Hiro kept going without losing a beat.

"Water," she croaked.

Frizz thrust a glass into her hand, and Aya drank deep.

"Thanks," she gasped when it was empty, taking a look around. The air was thick with hovercams pointed at her, but people were keeping their distance, trying not to stare. For the first time in her life, a reputation bubble had formed around Aya.

On the other side of the room, a bunch of tech-heads had gathered at the mansions big public wallscreen, watching Ren demonstrate the grim math of ballistic weapons and collapsing buildings. For a moment she was alone with Frizz.

"How'd I do?" she asked softly.

"Amazing." He grinned. "So what does it feel like, being famous?"

She groaned, remembering her radical stupidity the last time they'd been together. "Very funny."

"No really," he said, "what's it like hanging out with someone as face-missing as me?"

"Cut it out! What happened to your radical honesty?"

"Teasing isn't lying," Frizz argued. "And besides, I'm really wondering how you see me now."

Aya rolled her eyes. "But it's not like you're some extra. There's no difference in ambition between us!"

"Yes there is."

"What do you mean?"

"You went for an hour without checking your face rank?" He laughed. "That's pretty jaw-dropping. Take a guess, before I blurt it out."

Aya swallowed. She'd hardly breathed since the story'd kicked, much less tracked her face rank.

And somehow she was afraid to boot her eyescreen and check. "You mean I'm more famous than you?

Am I under a thousand?"

"Don't be brain-missing, Aya! Immortal crumblies got your brother under a thousand. This is a city killer! Take a real guess."

Aya shrugged, not wanting to sound ego-kicking. "Um, five hundred?"

"Still brain-missing!" A pained expression twisted Frizz's face. "Not telling you is killing me."

"Then tell me!" Aya cried.

"You're the seventeenth-most-famous person in the city!" Frizz spat out, then rubbed his temples.

"Ouch. That hurt."

Aya stared at him—even if Frizz couldn't lie, he had to be mistaken. "Seventeen?"

"Nana Love kicked you."

"No way!" Aya cried. "What does she care about Rusty weapons?"

"Nana-chan cares about all humanity." He shrugged. "Which is nice of her. Maybe she pinged you."

"No way!" Aya turned her eyescreen on, heart pounding as it came to life. "You really think so?"

"Probably. She pinged me when I hit the top thousand."

Aya's interface appeared, stuffed with an enormous stack of pings, tens of thousands of them stretching off into the invisible distance. She'd never have time to read them all!

"You should see yourself, Aya," Frizz said, laughing. "You look like a littlie who just ate too much ice cream."

"Too much is right. You should see all these messages!" She remembered Hire's trick after big stories, when he was always ping-bashed with tips. Her fingers began to twitch. "Hang on, let me sort them by face rank. Pings from extras go to the bottom and the important ones rise to the top. If Nana-chan really is in here, she'll be right at the whoa."

There were so many pings, Aya could actually see them moving, the city interface straining as it checked each one against the constantly updating face ranks. Gradually a few bubbled to the top—big-face kickers, politicians, a note of thanks from the Good Citizen Committee "I am totally going to score some merits out of this," she murmured. "Shuffle Mansion, here I come."

Then she saw it … a glowing ping rising on angel's wings.

"Oh, Frizz. You were right…Nana-chan was watching!"

He laughed. "I told you so!"

Aya was about to open it, but suddenly the ping slid down. She stared at the new message in disbelief. It carried no decoration at all, its black text as bare as an automatic reply.

"Um, Frizz, there's another one above it."

"Another what?"

"I think someone more famous than Nana Love just pinged me."

"But there isn't anyone who's…except …" Frizz let out a strangled sound. "You mean Tally Youngblood just pinged you?"

Aya nodded slowly. It was right there, painted in laser light on her eyeball. A ping from the world's most famous person—the girl who'd made the mind-rain fall. The name prayed to by the Youngblood cults every morning, cursed by Toshi Banana as he slammed the latest mind-rain clique, repeated countless times whenever the story of the Diego War was taught to littlies "How could she know so fast?" Aya murmured. "Isn't she hiding in the wild somewhere?"

"The story went global two hours ago," Frizz said. "She must have friends checking the feeds for her."

"But since when does Tally Youngblood just ping people?" Saying the name made her throat go dry again.

"Who cares?

Open it!"

Aya twitched her finger, and the ping expanded. It was tagged by the global interface, guaranteed authentic. But as she read the message, Aya wondered if Tally's English was confusing her somehow.

"What does it say?" Frizz cried.

"It's only seven words."

"What words? 'Thanks'? 'Congratulations'? 'Hello'?"

"No, Frizz. It says, 'Run and hide. We're on our way.'"

"This is stupid," Hiro hissed. "We should go back to the party. Running off like this is making us look like idiots!"

"You're telling me to ignore Tally Youngblood?" Aya said. "Her ping said run and hide!"

"You call this hiding?" Ren asked.

Aya glanced into the sky. A hundred or so hovercams had trailed them out of the party, probably wondering why the seventeenth-most-famous person in the city had suddenly abandoned her first interview ever. The swarm was silhouetted against the night sky, a host of lenses glinting down at them like the eyes of predators.

"That's a good point," Frizz said. "We have to find somewhere private."

"I'm trying."

Aya sighed.

The four of them had left the bash by a side door and headed randomly across a darkened baseball field. Safety fireworks were still shooting up from the mansion's roof. Flickering across the grass, they sent Aya's huge, jittering shadow stretching out in front of her.

She remembered Lai's last warning on the sled: "Whoever built this monstrosity is dangerous."