Vortex

“So, what are you up to?” Tom asked, even though it was obvious.

“Exercising,” Yuri said, gazing up at him from under the weight bar.

“Okay, that was a stupid question. Can I ask your advice about something?”

“Of course.”

Tom considered how to phrase his question about Medusa, before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Girls like you. A lot.”

If Yuri was surprised, he didn’t show it. He gave a humble shrug. “I believe it is my muscular physique.” He sat up and flexed his biceps thoughtfully. “But that is only the surface. The only girl whose regard I care for—”

“Is Wyatt, I know, I know. Okay. I have a question: let’s say a girl kind of feels bad about the way she looks and I accidentally insulted her about that. How can I fix it?”

Yuri tugged at his thin white T-shirt, plastered to his skin with sweat. “What did you say to this girl?”

“I kind of pointed out that we only meet online and we’re never gonna meet in person, so we can use avatars and I won’t even see how she looks. That’s why it’ll never matter to me if she’s ugly.”

Yuri twisted around to frown at him. “I hope you did not say such a thing, Thomas. This is no good.”

“Not in those exact words, but, uh . . . Come on, you’ve gotta have some advice. I thought you might know what to say to make her feel better, or how I can apologize. You know, since Wyatt’s horseface thing is—”

Yuri half rose from the bench. “Horseface?”

Tom noticed, not for the first time, how much larger Yuri was than him. He raised his hands. “The thing where she thinks she has a horseface. I’m not insulting your girlfriend, man.”

“Ah. Of course.” Yuri settled back down. He rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Wyatt has indeed expressed to me that she feels troubled over her appearance. It is always an awkward conversation, because if I say, ‘You do not have a horseface,’ she is believing I am lying. But if I ever were to say, ‘Very well, I concede. You have a horseface,’ then I am certain she would also find it upsetting.”

“Yeah,” Tom said, imagining it. “Just a bit.”

“So this is what I do,” Yuri went on, leaning closer. “I take her hand and stare into her eyes. Then I say this: ‘If you were indeed resembling a horse, then I would see the horse and be thinking it is a very beautiful horse, and I would be feeling alarmed and think there is something very wrong with me that I am finding a horse so very lovely and attractive.’” He concluded with a satisfied nod.

“And that works?” Tom blurted.

“She always is responding the same way: ‘That’s really weird, Yuri.’” Yuri gave another satisfied nod.

“So it doesn’t work.”

“Ah, but it does.” Yuri raised a finger. “In fact, Thomas, she grows very concerned with how weird it is, and she is no longer thinking of whether she has a horseface.” He spread his hands, like he’d performed a magic trick. “Do you see? The problem is solved.”

Tom was in awe of him. “You’re like some genius diplomat.”

Yuri smiled. “This I am.”

Suddenly, something occurred to Tom. He rested his elbows on the bar and dropped his voice. “Listen, man, you can’t tell anyone I asked you about this girl. Not anyone. Especially not Joseph Vengerov.”

For a moment, Yuri’s eyes flashed up to his, like he hadn’t really been listening and something Tom said had caught his attention.

“Who is this online girl?” Yuri asked. His voice grew very soft, his eyes intent on Tom’s. “Is this the online girl you were meeting with before, Tom? Is it Medusa?”

“I’m not full-blown meeting with her again. I’ve only talked to her a couple times,” Tom said. “Vengerov asked me about her, and I can’t really tell you more than that, but he wants me to do something to her that I can’t do. So as far as he’s concerned, as far as anyone is concerned, I haven’t spoken to her since I got charged with treason. Okay?” He raised his eyebrows significantly. I am going to officially inform him that she refuses to see me again.”

Yuri’s eyes dropped, and all the sharpness disappeared from his face, replaced by a mild sort of confusion.

“Yuri, you can’t tell,” Tom said, disturbed by the way he hadn’t responded.

Yuri blinked. “On my life, Thomas,” he said, “I will never tell anyone.” He frowned. “I hope you are being wise.”

“Come on. It’s me, man.”

“I know this,” Yuri said dubiously, sprawling back on the bench again to resume his bench presses. “And this is what concerns me.”

THE DARKENED VACTUBE was slightly ominous when Tom was alone, especially the long ride to Antarctica. Tom was glad to enter the elevator and rise into Obsidian Corp. There, he met the other exhausted Middles who’d been doing meet and greets all day.

It came as a profound shock to Tom when he found Lieutenant Blackburn there, radiating tension.

“All of you will remain in my sight at all times, am I understood?” Blackburn said. His gray eyes roved over them, bitter lines etched on his face in the facility’s artificial lights. “Your wireless functions should be nonoperational while you’re here. I’m wearing a jamming device.” He pulled back his sleeve to expose something that resembled a wristwatch. “If for some reason your wireless comes back online, you’re to assume someone is hacking you, and you’ll notify me immediately. Now let’s go.”

He snapped around and led them forward through an automated turnstile that scanned their retinas. Praetorians flanked them as they walked, their metal camera eyes fixed on the passing trainees.

As Tom walked, the undeniable sensation of being watched tickled up his spine. He threw a careless glance over his shoulder.

All the Praetorians had their camera eyes fixed straight on him.

Tom was so jolted by the sight, he almost sprang a foot in the air. The crowd jostled around him, mounting a set of stairs. Weird. Creepy. Tom moved on, darting his own eyes around warily.

There was something distinctly unsettling about Obsidian Corp. All the corridors were dimly lit and very chilly. They passed massive, warehouse-sized rooms with elaborate supercomputers. Those rooms were devoid of people. In fact, there were almost no humans around, not even custodial personnel or mechanics. Just Praetorians and mechanized surveillance cameras. It took Tom a few minutes to pinpoint what was so wrong about the complex, but then he figured it out: the building seemed to have been created for the machines inside it. It was like human beings were unwelcome intruders.

Even the low-level Obsidian Corp. techs who led them on a tour of the facilities seemed nervous and out of place. They joked uneasily about the way Antarctica saved the company billions in air-conditioning. When trainees laughed, the techs blinked.

“That’s the truth. It really does save the company billions in air-conditioning. Quantum supercomputers get very hot,” one tech said. “We actually have to wear parkas to move through most of the facility.”

Then they led the trainees past expansive windows overlooking the icy tundra. The sky was a dull gray. It was the time of year in this part of Antarctica where night never descended, but there was no brightness this day.