17. Metallic Taste
Metallic Taste
Dylan
Machined coffee filled the plant-based plastic containers to the brim, the cups proudly stencilled with logos and messages of various kinds, branded vegan, Earth-friendly, recyclable, compostable, biodegradable.
Isaak sat across from her in the coffee shop, fiddling nervously with the lid of his drink.
She wasn’t sure this place was the best setting for this conversation, but it was close to the office, and unlikely to be visited by anyone she knew – so they’d at least have some privacy.
After what had just happened, she didn’t think meeting at either of their flats was a good idea.
Not until she felt like she could trust him again.
He was wearing the same black fake-leather jacket from the night they met at the club, paired with trademark faded jeans. Dylan still had her same Dr. Martens on.
“Have you ever fought wolves like that before?”
He shook his head, looking at his drink. “No. It was either us or them…”
She nodded. Yes. “But seeing even a heavily modified, brutal-looking animal get shot and spray its blood all over my face… You can understand me being upset.”
He sat straight up. “Of course. Fuck. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry I summoned you.” There was a pause and then he slapped the table, startling her. “No, actually, I’m glad I did… The more I think about it, the more certain I am I might not have made it out without you.”
She wasn’t too comfortable with his impulse to hit the table in frustration. Anger management issues? Deep-seated trauma? Something to do with his dramatic exit from the ReSports scene?
“I really don’t think I helped that m—”
“No, honestly,” he insisted. “The way you were running, and that kick… I’m impressed.”
Despite everything, his smile made her heart flutter, her knees going weak. She flushed. “Well, it was nothing compared to seeing your captain’s instincts kick in. And that flip looked badass, straight out of a Lazarus game.” Oh, crap.
Now it was his turn to blush. “Wait, what do you mean my captain’s instincts? You knew about my Lazarus days? Have you been looking me up online?”
Oops. Oh well, time to confess, she guessed.
“Actually, I didn’t need to. I knew who you were from the beginning. I used to be a fan.”
He stared at her, colour drained from his face.
He took a sip of his drink, taking in what she’d said. Taking a moment to process it.
“What gave it away, besides me wearing that damn t-shirt? I didn’t even realise I had it on till you mentioned it. I thought the beard would help disguise me.”
“Using your real name made it a bit obvious.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “When I pointed out your t-shirt, I was expecting you to own up to it. Why didn’t you?”
He took the straw to his lips and drank. But after all his nervous sipping, there was nothing left, so he just slurped in air as he avoided looking her in the eyes.
“I don’t miss those days.” He couldn’t have been more obviously lying if he tried. Lying to himself too, maybe. But he shouldn’t need to.
She pulled a rebellious strand of hair out of her face. “It’s fine if you do.”
Isaak shook his head, pushing his back against the soft sofa, the red fake leather gently creaking as creases formed where his shoulders touched it.
“Why did you leave?” she asked. This wasn’t exactly the interrogation she had planned, but she would get to the Tapeworld again later. It felt like he was beginning to open up a bit, and she wanted to know as much as he was willing to tell her.
He swallowed. “I didn’t. I was kicked out. Fired because I fucked my knee up.”
Shit. That must have been hard.
“Some people thought” – she meant I thought but couldn’t admit it – “that you were taking a leave of absence to heal up, but then you never came back. Your team sucks to have done that to you.”
Isaak shook his head. “The team’s not to blame. My knee isn’t going to get any better. There is no going back.”
“What about surgery? There are implants, augments you can get…”
He tsked. “Surgery is just delaying the inevitable. And I don’t make enough money for augmentations. Install costs a fortune, plus the maintenance subscription they force you to get. I’m not sure I trust the idea of filling my body with metal like that.”
She nodded. “No, you’re right, it’s pretty shit. I’m sorry. Is that why you spend so much time in the Tapeworld? I noticed that in there you don’t have a…” Don’t say it. Don’t say it, Dylan.
“You can say it. A limp.” He had an amused smile on his face.
“Shit.” Her heart sank. “I don’t want you to think that I see you any differently because of it… I—” She felt stupid for bringing it up, and stumbled over her words as she tried to figure out what she meant to say.
He placed his hand on hers. “I know. Dylan, I know what you mean. It’s okay, you’re not a bad person.” He smiled, and this time it comforted her. His hand on hers felt nice. But he quickly moved it away again.
Isaak fixed his gaze out of the window of the coffee shop, locked into a thousand-mile stare.
“The pain fucking sucks, sure. But the pressure of leading the Lazarus for that long, everyone wanting answers and wins out of you… I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to do it anyway.
” He looked her in the eyes. “Now that you know my secret, I have to ask… Where did you train to run and fight like that?”
“Because I was faster than you when those wolves were chasing us?” She let her smugness show. “That surprised me, actually. I thought the greatest ReSports player of all time would be a master inside the Tapeworld.”
His cheeks went red. “I’m not… I wasn’t…
” He shook his head. “During my first strides, I realised your physical ability IRL translates into your prowess in the Tapeworld. It’s magnified, so don’t look too smug, but the scale is still limited by how much you can do out here. I don’t know how or why.”
It made sense. “And if I were to try using a gun in there?”
“It would be just as difficult as out here, unless these people also trained you as a crack shot? I think you were about to tell me, in excruciating detail, about your training.”
He looked pleased himself, and it was contagious. A warmth suffused her chest, and she played into it. “Actually, I think the whole point of meeting right now was for you to tell me what the hell is going on with you, but… fine. I’ll tell you about my training, but then you owe me answers.”
He nodded, looking more serious again.
“I trained all my life because of my parents,” she said. “I trained at the Apocalypse Revolt camps.”
He furrowed his brow, not knowing what she meant.
“There were a few dotted around the Kingdom. Only recently been repurposed or demolished. The deal between the Apocalypse Revolt and the Tech Kingdoms, which ended the Dark Year, ensured the Revolt would carry on training the new generation. To hold the Kings and Queens to account, in case they failed in their efforts to slow down climate change.”
He stared open-mouthed at her for a moment. “And what did you learn there?”
She flashed her teeth. “How to kick ass.”
He grinned.
Goddess, he was cute. She was enjoying being the centre of attention for a change.
All those years running around after Talia with her boy toy of the week, leaving only leftovers for Dylan.
She usually avoided them entirely. But she didn’t want to get sucked in too far without knowing more about him…
“So,” she said, “can you please tell me what were you doing in that forest tape-space before you summoned me?”
His grin dropped. “Ah. Yes. I guess I owe you an explanation.”
“Also, why did you summon me?”
His eyes opened wide. “Right… That was an accident.”
She pushed her drink towards him, done with it. “Thinking of me and saying my name was an accident?”
He smiled weakly, before turning serious. “It’s hard to explain. I looked at the house and saw your face on it. I…”
She had trouble making sense of what he meant. “You saw a vision of my face?”
“I don’t know if it was a vision, or the tape messing with my head, or just…”
“Your endless fascination with me?” she teased. “No, but seriously,” she added, so he wouldn’t feel obliged to answer that particular question, “you’re always inside the Tapeworld, aren’t you? Could that be why you’re seeing things?”
His face showed concern. “Maybe.”
“So, what were you doing there? Is it secret?” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Hacking? It’s hacking, isn’t it? What kind of hacking? It’s not Russians, right?” She stared at him.
He looked down in silence, scrutinising the top of his machined coffee cup.
“Oh my goddess, it is Russians!”
“It’s not Russians!” he barked. “At least, I’m pretty sure it’s not Russians…”
Dylan went quiet, waiting for him to elaborate.
“It’s not like hacking in the real world. I’m not a computer whiz.”
“You’re the London Lazarus team captain. You are a computer whiz!”
A flash of disapproval went over his face, but his demeanour remained friendly, if slightly upset.
“Former captain. And that’s not the same thing.
Sure, I know my way around VR shooters—” His hand went under the table and he touched his hurt knee.
“That doesn’t mean I know anything about cybersecurity. ”
He went serious, and the boyish look disappeared from his face. He suddenly looked more mature.
“I’ve been stealing.” He folded his arms, looking away from her. “That’s what it is. I go into these pockets, personal spaces in the Tapeworld, and I copy secrets, data, blueprints – that’s what I was doing at that house. That’s why the wolves chased us.”
Of course. She should be so lucky to be attracted to someone normal, someone who was just grinding at their normal job, trying to make ends meet. Here she was with a pilferer of industrial secrets, a retired professional VR gamer turned hacker.