Soo-hyun took another drag, their face briefly illuminated by the tiny blazing light. “I can track the constellations on my phone.”
“That’s not the same as seeing them.”
A breeze from the west pushed the clouds over Incheon, and though the sky was clear overhead, Soo-hyun could barely see any stars shining amid that endless black.
“When you’re right, you’re right.”
“There’s talk of terraforming Mars, to make it more like Earth so we can live there, but no one talks about how we deterraformed Terra. Without meaning to, without trying, we’ve set the planet on a path where it will no longer support us.”
Soo-hyun nodded and took the joint, careful not to burn their fingers on the small stump. They took a long drag, held it, and passed the joint back to Kali.
Kali inhaled, squinting against the smoke that drifted up to her eyes. “It’s arrogant to think we could kill an entire planet, but we’re killing ourselves.” She offered the end of the joint to Soo-hyun.
“Oh, no, I am toasted,” Soo-hyun said, watching Kali through heavy-lidded eyes.
Kali had one last hit of the joint, and dropped it into a beer bottle by her foot, where it briefly sizzled.
“If we terraform Mars before we treat our addiction to consumption, we’ll just end up deterraforming it, too. That’s why I need the virus, Soo-hyun. It’s the tool we can use to reverse all the damage we’ve done.”
“But it’s just a virus,” Soo-hyun said, their head swimming calmly.
Kali beamed. “It’s so much more than that. It’s a living piece of software that can grow and change. It can fill any system, any niche. We can use it to run our cities, our countries, our economies. There’ll be no need for money when it can do most of the jobs. There’ll be no greed, no rampant consumption. We will let the code govern us and it will pull us back from the brink of collapse.”
Kali turned her chair to face Soo-hyun. She leaned forward, and rested a hand on Soo-hyun’s knee. “Do you see how important that is?”
Soo-hyun nodded and blinked. Kali loomed large and ephemeral in their vision—her face didn’t shift, Soo-hyun’s eyes did, but the effect was the same. “I do,” they said after an eternity had passed.
“You were there that night, along with Red and the others. You were all exposed. You could all be arrested for your part in the theft, and yet we have nothing to show for it.” These last words came out slow: “Where is your brother?”
“I already told you where he lives.”
“He wasn’t there. Where else could he be?”
Soo-hyun paused. “I don’t know.”
“This is an emergency, Soo-hyun. Every day that passes without the virus is another day of pain and suffering for countless people. It is one day closer to complete collapse. It is …”
Kali continued, but the words drifted beneath Soo-hyun’s understanding. At the word “emergency” something had come loose in Soo-hyun’s mind. When they first hacked the dogs, the machines were severed from the emergency services data network so they couldn’t be tracked and relocated by city contractors. If that break with the network was causing the latency, reinstating them could be the solution. Piggyback the stolen signal off the police servers, and get the dogs running smooth. Soo-hyun smiled, hands itching with the promise of a problem almost solved.
“Are you listening to me?”
The smile dropped from Soo-hyun’s lips. “I think I know how to fix it.”
They stood and so did Kali. She grabbed them by the arm and squeezed tight. “That can wait. Where is your brother?”
Soo-hyun glanced over Kali’s right shoulder. “I don’t know,” they said. “He could be staying with a friend. He could be staying with his mom.”
“Where does she live?”
Soo-hyun shook her head. “I don’t know; we’re not exactly close.”
“We can’t trust the virus to him, Soo-hyun. I know he’s your brother, but he’s also a man. The masculine death drive is too dangerous at this early stage of the virus’s development.
“All throughout human history, our species has been driven forward by the masculine death drive. Hunting animals for their meat allowed us to evolve into modern Homo sapiens sapiens. The drive to conquer saw us cover the entire Earth. Even the rediscovery of distant lands during the age of empires was driven by the explorers’ suicidal urge. What man sails to the unknown horizon unless he truly wishes to die? Our technical development has always been driven by violence. Better weapons require stronger metals require a better understanding of materials. The ability to manipulate metals led us to industry, which led us to today. Which leads us to our only hope.
“I birthed the virus, Soo-hyun; it bled from my fingertips, code pooling to form a living piece of software. A living piece of software that is out there, somewhere, without me. It needs me, Soo-hyun; it needs its mother.
“You care for your brother, I understand that. But this is bigger than you and him. This is bigger even than me. Where can I find your brother?”
“I don’t know,” Soo-hyun said again.
“What about the hacker? Could he have kept a copy?”
Soo-hyun bit their lower lip. “Maybe.”
Kali took both Soo-hyun’s hands and squeezed. “You know where we can find him?”
Soo-hyun nodded. “The kid basically lives at this VR café. That’s where me and JD met him.”
“Good, good,” Kali said. “What’s it called?”
“The Varket.”
“Thank you, Soo-hyun. You have no idea how much this means to me.” The words sounded neutral, but some spark in Kali’s pale eyes made Soo-hyun uneasy.
“Can I— Can I go now? I might have a fix for the dogs.”
“Of course,” Kali said. “Think it’ll be done by morning?”
“I don’t know,” Soo-hyun said. “I need to implement it first, then test it.”
“Keep me in the loop.”
“I will.” Soo-hyun proceeded to the ladder, aware of the vertiginous height as they swung their leg out over the top rung. They descended slowly, the weed emptying
