AfterLife™

Chapter 6

Thrumming and pulsing, the portal casts a light-blue shimmer onto the abandoned train platform. The hypnotic sound invites me home.

But I can't go. Not yet.

Not until I understand what's happening.

Even though I came here to ask for Zephyr's help, it's clear they're trapped. I don't know why, but I bet it's because of AlphaGalaxy.

Or maybe it's a hack gone wrong.

Either way, if I help them, maybe they'll agree to help me with Stella. It seems a fair exchange.

"There must be some mistake." I stare at their profile in confusion. "I have some programming skills. Maybe we can figure it out together."

Zephyr laughs. "A Niner assisting a Zero. Imagine that."

Deep in thought, they rub the neat layer of stubble along their square jaw. The portal illuminates the dark circles under their eyes. Still, they carry off a rugged handsomeness. At least a Seven.

Hell, they rock a prominent chin like a superhero with cheekbones to match. 

Yeah, they got a decent layer of extra padding along with those muscles. Who cares? Good luck to the poor fool who challenged them in the ring. Zephyr could probably snap most people in half without even trying.

"Starstruck?" they ask with a wry smile.

"Uh, what d'ya mean?"

Zephyr chuckles. "You know who I am, right?"

"Should I?"

"Not a video gamer, I see."

"I play them," I say defensively, "but...probably not the kind you like."

His incredulous expression makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Never mind. Doesn't matter. We need to fix this.

"How did this happen?" I ask, examining their wristband. "Did you hack it?"

Anger flashes in their eyes as they pull away. "Do you think I caused this?"

"No, but I can't help if I don't know what happened."

Their silence doesn't help. While I tinker with the code inside the wristband, I try to put the pieces together. My cheeks burn as they stare down at me, analyzing my every move.

Even if they've given away every cent and all their assets, it would cast them down into the Sixes, maybe. Still very much one of the privileged--or ledge, as everyone likes to call us.

Add that to their rugged good looks, and they should classify as at least an Eight. Put them in a fresh tuxedo, trim their waves, and wash off all the grime and dust. Hell, they'd pass as a Niner.

The system gives only the most heinous criminals an automatic One. It's not like Zephyr's a wanted serial killer. Even the Econo-Warriors who bombed the Southbay Mall aren't Zeros.

So what's their deal? What the hell did they do to deserve a Zero rating?

"Look, I'm trying to understand." Other than some weird hack to enhance their height and muscle strength, I can't find anything wrong. Besides the obvious. "I've never seen a Zero."

"You won't find any Zeros in your world," says Zephyr, "because it's illegal."

I gaze up at them, confused.

Zephyr casts their gaze away as though they're ashamed.

"I'm a digital slave, Tara."

Stunned, I stand there speechless. My thoughts spin. At first I think it must be a bad joke, but there's no sign of mirth in their features. Just exhaustion.