generally prefers the default setting, which is a facsimile of his good eye. The therapeutic prosthetic can pick up the muscular impulses associated with eye movement and therefore animate the iris accordingly, and the pupil dilates and constricts in response to ambient light. In general, the illusion is quite convincing, though the display is thin enough that it does not entirely stop the light from the back of the eye from escaping; throughout the course of a day, Dre’s eye will faintly glow in every portion of the visual spectrum.
“Have you eaten?” Alexei asks the boy.
“I ate with the others.”
“How are you getting along with everyone?”
“Good, I guess.”
“Have you met Ki?”
“Yeah, I met her. She kind of scares me.”
“Why?”
“I seen her train. She can be—I don’t know—kind of
vicious
.”
Alexei smiles. “Speaking of training, how’s yours coming?”
“Good.”
“How good? What’s your rank?”
“I’m up to twenty-seven.”
Alexei nods. “Only seventeen to go until you qualify. You think you can do it?”
“I can do it,” the boy says. “I don’t know if I can win the whole thing, but I’ll qualify.”
“Good.” Alexei takes another sip of tea. “How’s the eye? Any headaches or flashes?”
“No. It’s all good.”
Alexei nods and the boy continues to stand in the doorway.
“Is there something on your mind, Dre?”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
The boy is now picking absently at the edge of the copper door strike beside him. “I want to know what I’m really doing here.”
Alexei frowns. “What do you mean? You’re here to train.”
“I know that,” the boy says, “but I also know there’s something else going on. Something you’re not telling me.”
Alexei is increasingly amazed by the extent to which the boy has retired his aggressive inner-city disposition and adapted to his new environment. He has even started replacing his baggy and oversized wardrobe, designed to conceal weapons and paraphernalia, with the new jeans, cargo pants, T-shirts, and hoodies that were waiting for him in his closet.
“What makes you think that?”
“The fact that one and a half million NGD is a lot of money for some punk from Baltimore, but it’s nothing to you.”
Alexei looks away from the boy and bobs his head. He watches the floor between them for a moment, then uses his toe to push the chair beside him out from the table. “Have a seat, Dre.”
The boy hesitates for a moment, then enters the kitchen and sits. His posture is stiff and guarded.
“Have you figured out what it is that I do here?”
“Not really,” the boy says. “But it looks to me like you’re building some kind of army.”
Alexei takes a moment to consider the boy’s response. “Actually, I’m doing the exact opposite,” he says. He pauses to take another sip of tea and to lean back from the table. “Armies are about numbers, Dre. They’re about creating a force, and then applying as much technology as you can afford to multiply that force. The point of an army isn’t to destroy one’s enemy so much as it is to destroy his will to fight, and the best way to destroy your enemy’s will to fight is to overwhelm him with as massive and terrifying a force as humanly possible. Does that make sense?”
“I guess.”
“What I do is different. Rather than numbers, I invest in individuals—individuals with very special and specific talents that can be applied in just the right way and at just the right time to maximize their effectiveness. Do you know what the word
pivot
means?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“It means to, like, turn real quick.”
“Right. To turn or redirect suddenly. The word comes from one of the earliest and simplest machines ever built—basically just a beam resting on a hinge. But when you apply force to that beam, it becomes a lever. And if the whole thing is designed properly, just a tiny amount of force can displace
“Have you eaten?” Alexei asks the boy.
“I ate with the others.”
“How are you getting along with everyone?”
“Good, I guess.”
“Have you met Ki?”
“Yeah, I met her. She kind of scares me.”
“Why?”
“I seen her train. She can be—I don’t know—kind of
vicious
.”
Alexei smiles. “Speaking of training, how’s yours coming?”
“Good.”
“How good? What’s your rank?”
“I’m up to twenty-seven.”
Alexei nods. “Only seventeen to go until you qualify. You think you can do it?”
“I can do it,” the boy says. “I don’t know if I can win the whole thing, but I’ll qualify.”
“Good.” Alexei takes another sip of tea. “How’s the eye? Any headaches or flashes?”
“No. It’s all good.”
Alexei nods and the boy continues to stand in the doorway.
“Is there something on your mind, Dre?”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
The boy is now picking absently at the edge of the copper door strike beside him. “I want to know what I’m really doing here.”
Alexei frowns. “What do you mean? You’re here to train.”
“I know that,” the boy says, “but I also know there’s something else going on. Something you’re not telling me.”
Alexei is increasingly amazed by the extent to which the boy has retired his aggressive inner-city disposition and adapted to his new environment. He has even started replacing his baggy and oversized wardrobe, designed to conceal weapons and paraphernalia, with the new jeans, cargo pants, T-shirts, and hoodies that were waiting for him in his closet.
“What makes you think that?”
“The fact that one and a half million NGD is a lot of money for some punk from Baltimore, but it’s nothing to you.”
Alexei looks away from the boy and bobs his head. He watches the floor between them for a moment, then uses his toe to push the chair beside him out from the table. “Have a seat, Dre.”
The boy hesitates for a moment, then enters the kitchen and sits. His posture is stiff and guarded.
“Have you figured out what it is that I do here?”
“Not really,” the boy says. “But it looks to me like you’re building some kind of army.”
Alexei takes a moment to consider the boy’s response. “Actually, I’m doing the exact opposite,” he says. He pauses to take another sip of tea and to lean back from the table. “Armies are about numbers, Dre. They’re about creating a force, and then applying as much technology as you can afford to multiply that force. The point of an army isn’t to destroy one’s enemy so much as it is to destroy his will to fight, and the best way to destroy your enemy’s will to fight is to overwhelm him with as massive and terrifying a force as humanly possible. Does that make sense?”
“I guess.”
“What I do is different. Rather than numbers, I invest in individuals—individuals with very special and specific talents that can be applied in just the right way and at just the right time to maximize their effectiveness. Do you know what the word
pivot
means?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“It means to, like, turn real quick.”
“Right. To turn or redirect suddenly. The word comes from one of the earliest and simplest machines ever built—basically just a beam resting on a hinge. But when you apply force to that beam, it becomes a lever. And if the whole thing is designed properly, just a tiny amount of force can displace
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