The Last Network - Chapter 39
We’re Only Science
Paolo laid down on the sofa and traveled back in time. Before he discovered climbing, psychology, and computers, Paolo had been a lost teen. He was the kid that was too smart for his high school and too wild for his family. Earning a full scholarship to USC had been a godsend. He enrolled early and was out of his house as soon as possible.
His first purchase had been a used Honda motorcycle. It opened the dark streets and infinite highways of Los Angeles. He prowled up and down those Hollywood nights in search of kindred spirits, finding them in places like the Parlour Club and Death, Death, Disco.
That was a lifetime ago, as unreachable now as his summer in Astoria. The rigors of his program and a desire to make a career in the US brought him into the daylight. By grad school he started getting up at times he used to go to bed at. Still, the music remained. Dark wave, 80s synths, electroclash. He watched the late summer sunset fade and the lights of Los Gatos come up. He missed LA. Nothing was ever boring there.
Paolo reached for his phone and dialed Kendra.
“Paolo?”
“You said to call sometime. You know, just to say hi.”
“Hi.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked, turning down his speaker.
“Not at all. You’re feeling something aren’t you?”
“I am.”
Paolo had spent the last hour wandering around his condo, unable to focus, debating the wisdom of making this call. Kendra had been slow-playing him all this time. For months she had drip-fed him doses of attraction. Each flirtation small enough to not cross a line, but still so potent to a digital man-child, deprived of release, consumed by work. Then that night happened. She knocked him cold, mainlined his desires, and left him with only the memory of how good it felt to be bad. That night, she showed Paolo more, showed him what it could feel like when you no longer gave a fuck. Peared was so much better when you played outside the lines. When you took the job, the people, and the power and pushed past all the boundaries.
“Want to tell me about it?” Kendra asked.
He hesitated, knowing she was miles ahead of him. Paolo had come to realize that her threat of blackmail wasn’t a threat. She was giving him an easy justification for the wrong she wanted. That night was wiring his chemical and emotional pathways. The following morning was laying the moral groundwork for doing it again. Carrot and stick wrapped up in sex, drugs, and tech. A green card played on the table.
Knowing his buttons were being pushed, that he was being manipulated, amplified the temptation. She was appealing to the operator in him. This was the game she said. Bad is the optimal play, and this is how fucking good it feels.
“I’m not sure.”
“That’s fine. Tell me about your weekend. Any plans?”
“I’m going climbing on Saturday, getting up early, back late. On Sunday I’m heading to a family friend’s place for dinner.”
“What else are you doing on Sunday?”
“Nothing. It’s an all-day meal. She’s a chef from Santiago. Looks after some of us when we need home cooking.”
“Seems like a waste of a day.”
He could hear the dismissiveness in her voice. How dull the basic comfort of home cooking was when this dark tangled thing was right there waiting for him.
“She going to set you up with someone?” The implication that a meal wasn’t enough.
“She’s run out of girls to try with.”
“Someone’s picky or just afraid to take a chance?”
“I just don’t want other people making those sorts of decisions for me. Besides, I’m still young. Not ready to settle down.”
“Paolo, you’re thirty-two. I was your resident advisor your freshman year. Sometimes you just need to get on a train when it pulls into the station.”
“I know.”
“So, you ready to tell me about it?”
Paolo swallowed. Fuck it. He was going to jump in.
“I want to do it again. With her, and you.”
“Paolo.”
“Let’s not play games Kendra. That’s what that video was for.”
“So, you liked it?”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
“And that’s what you liked, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Paolo felt a rush as he vocalized the thought for the first time. Not remembering a damn thing was the perfect high for a man who knew too much.
“I shouldn’t tell you this.”
“What?”
“I want to do it again too.”
“God, Kendra. This is fucked up.”
“I know, and I love it.”
“Why can’t we be normal?”
“Because this is so much better, Paolo.”
“Does it have to be with Malcolm?”
“If you want her, you get him. Besides, I want him running you. Something clicked with us that night. It’s never been so good.”
“You’d done this before?”
“Of course, darling. I’d have never done that to my precious Paolo without knowing he’d be ok.”
“Kendra, who’s driving this, you or Malcolm?”
“Maybe it’s mutual. Does it matter?”
“I suppose not. So, when can we do it again?”
“Not until we do a job first. How far along are you?”
And there it was. The cost of the ticket to take the ride.
“I’m getting there.”
“What does that mean?”
He felt her flipping him again, right back to work and the task of making her rich.
“I can put all the people together and most of the time I can get them to do what I want. The final piece is constructing missions that the system never registers. I need to spin up multiple missions that link the Pairs together.”
“That’s real progress. How hard is the last part?”
“I know how to do it, just not sure if I’m capable of programming it. If I can’t I’ll find a work around.”
“Keep pushing. Malcolm tells me there’s something in six weeks if you are ready.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks Paolo. Call me again sometime.”
“I call you all the time.”
“You know what I mean.”
She had said that to him so many times before, but finally Paolo knew just what she meant. She was going to use him, and he was going to love it.