Some time ago, the boss provided Avery with access to a special dashboard. Apparently, the previous leader wanted something like that—a detailed view of where the boss was currently projected.

  Specific.

  The previous leader was known for control, but this was extreme.

  The boss left this dashboard and shared it with Avery. As he had said, it didn’t bother him, and it could be useful for Avery to easily check where to go if the boss needed it.

  Roger. It was actually useful.

  Avery wondered if the boss knew when he used the dashboard.

  Probably yes. So that it wouldn’t look like he was peeking, Avery very rarely used this view.

  But. Today, he used it.

  Honestly, Avery wasn’t sure what he wanted to achieve, except that he suddenly and surprisingly to himself decided he wanted to know if it was possible to meet the boss.

  Even if—what then? He would go there, and what? Avery could hardly imagine what he could say.

  He looked at the data once more.

  The boss’s projection was active. He was materialized; what was more, he was in the very center of the capital.

  Avery expected there would be no projection or that there would be one, but somewhere without detectors, so there would be no location.

  But no.

  The boss had been in the same place for two hours. Avery had been looking at this dashboard, almost motionless, for about forty minutes.

  Suddenly, he stood up.

  He took a drink of water. Tasteless. He added honey. A custom from whom? From the boss.

  Avery finished it, put the glass down, and hesitated.

  Then he made up his mind. He left abruptly, the door slamming shut behind him.

  Fifteen minutes—only one Gate separated him from the location.

  Closer to the place, he slowed down. Then he stopped and closed his eyes for a moment.

  Avery wanted to listen. Would he hear the boss’s projection? He knew this buzz; he had been able to recognize it from a distance for years.

  Yes and no. It was very light.

  As if the boss had recently perfected his projection.

  It was a place for walking but also for shopping. The noise was pleasant, not tiring. Just people. Shouting, laughing, and some music. The sound of plates and glasses—there were restaurants here.

  A fountain.

  The boss was sitting by the fountain. Avery looked. Yes, the water sprayed at him; his hair was wet.

  The boss’s projection was very real.

  But. The boss wasn’t real… or maybe he was?

  Lately, Avery had been questioning everything.

  The boss had his eyes closed. He definitely knew Avery was here. Unless he wasn’t paying attention. Sporadically, he wasn’t. Now the boss looked like he might not care. He was talking to himself, his eyes closed.

  What? Avery closed his eyes again. He started listening. He was constantly practicing his hearing.

  Shit.

  The boss was talking to himself in that second language again. Avery understood more than the boss was aware of, but the boss spoke so quickly and indistinctly sometimes.

  But no. Not today.

  Today, the boss was speaking calmly, slowly. What?

  “… As you would say, no? Amusing… I dream of hearing you say it again, hearing your voice. Song, imagine. There are so many recordings of Riley; his voice is to be heard everywhere. Recently, o, I told you all about it, so to hear Riley shouting his ‘fucking whatever’ is no problem. But, Song, to hear your voice is impossible. I destroyed everything. There are no pictures, almost none, as Shadows kept some. I store them securely; the hard copies I destroyed. No videos. Nothing. I remember you very well, Song; you are alive in my memories. But I miss so much hearing your voice again. Feel you again…”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The boss. Avery couldn’t believe it. Not that he hadn’t heard it before. He had heard it more than once, yet he didn’t believe it.

  It wasn’t possible. No one could be that loyal.

  That was what he thought, usually, until recently. Avery had been questioning everything he had thought before, so… maybe it was possible to be that loyal?

  The boss continued talking. Avery realized that the boss had been sitting there and talking to himself for hours.

  Not to himself. To his Song.

  “… It doesn’t matter what happens, whether I succeed or fail. You know, the ship is one-third complete. I will wait; we will fly there. Si is preparing for the exam, training with me. We will try. Either we find it or we don’t. Either we succeed, or we don’t. Either way, it is good. I already know how to destroy myself; it gave me the first fraction of freedom—I haven’t felt free for, plus minus, one hundred and twenty-three years. You would laugh now, wouldn’t you? At my perfect calculation. However, I have regained control over myself—I can destroy myself.”

  Shit?

  Avery was in shock. He was certainly because his hand had started to shake.

  “… But Song, this second freedom. I didn’t expect it. It is so liberating—this absurdity, this whole story with Riley and what is in the media. I am, paradoxically, free. This is the end, Song, of this topic, the fight with it, my self-reproaches, my sense of guilt. Riley as a hero? By all the heavens, how amazing. At first, I was so shocked, and then. Heavens. Freedom, Song, that would free you too, no? I checked the data; I know you avenged me. I didn’t know then; now I know. Song, you—”

  The boss suddenly stopped.

  Shit, did he notice?

  He did. The boss opened his eyes and looked directly at Avery.

  Avery came closer. But he didn’t sit down next to him. He still didn’t know what to say. So, he waited.

  Did the boss know that Avery had heard? No, the boss was speaking in a second language; he might think that Avery didn’t understand.

  “Boss, I wasn’t sure if I should come over; I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “O? I am, you could say, in private mode right now; you don’t like mixing work with—”

  Avery interrupted him. “I can talk.”

  “Luna blurted something out?” the boss asked, but he was smiling. He added. “Avery, I can detect spots without detectors. They are unusual. And Luna? It is not possible she was dancing for that long. It was definitely about talking; I would be surprised if she danced at all.”

  “She managed fifteen minutes.” Avery said.

  By this, he admitted that yes. It was about talking.

  The boss laughed, covering his face with his hand.

  Avery decided. He sat down next to him. And they sat there, in silence, for about ten minutes.

  It wasn’t even uncomfortable.

  At some point, the boss took a deep breath.

  “What did my Luna have to discuss with you that you removed all the detectors?” he asked directly.

  “Xavier,” Avery said.

  “Xavier? Why now? It is not close to any—” Suddenly the boss stopped.

  Avery knew what he wanted to say. It wasn’t close to any anniversary—a date when Avery usually did something like taking a vacation or disappearing. Or getting drunk.

  “No. It’s not,” Avery replied. Then he decided to say more. “It’s close to another anniversary. Clar’s and yours.”

  He took a chance; he said it.

  “O.” The boss said, and that was all.

  Silence was between them again, but it was comfortable.

  “It is true; my anniversaries are soon. This year, it will be different. I will think about only one. The good one,” the boss finally said.

  He smiled.

  “Why?” Avery asked.

  “I am certain I have freed myself of my burden,” the boss answered.

  Avery nodded. That conversation of theirs was very specific, yet they seemed to understand each other.

  Again suddenly, the boss asked.

  “And you? What would need to happen for you to free yourself?”

  A very specific question. An excellent question. “I don’t know. Before they let Xavier out of prison, I thought that revenge—killing him—would solve my problem. But didn’t.” Avery said, surprising himself the most.

  He had probably told the boss more about what he thought and felt on the subject than to anyone else.

  “I didn’t kill Clar, and I didn’t want to. Song certainly did want to. But he couldn’t. Only now do I understand how frustrated he must have been—”

  Avery interrupted him.

  “Why do you think about your Song and not yourself?” he asked.

  It still irritated him.

  Although the boss didn’t know that Avery heard many of his conversations, Avery did—the boss always thought more about the other one than about himself. Naive.

  “My existence is entangled with Song’s existence,” the boss said.

  That was the answer. Very naive.

  “Song is dead.” Avery stated.

  “Yes and no,” the boss replied.

  What could that mean? Yes, alive—in the boss’s memory? Incurable, the boss was incurable.

  On the other hand. Avery had been questioning everything lately. Maybe such love really did exist.

  Suddenly, the boss said something more. “In my case, the absurdity of the current situation helped me. I looked at it, finally separated all the ‘because’ and ‘but,’ and I looked at it directly. Did I say yes, or did I say no?”

  “I guess it was a lack of consent? Like my situation?” Avery asked.

  “For years, I had thought that Riley didn’t understand what I was saying to him. It is not an easy story; he certainly felt that I provoked him. Because it is true that I did; only my goals were different from what Riley assumed. It was a strangely understood revenge on my part. I always blurred it in my mind, explaining Riley’s behavior—that he could have understood differently. However, eventually, I did not consent. What is more, if I could have spoken, I would definitely have said ‘no.’ I was in love with Song—”

  Avery interrupted him.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I was partially unconscious. I sent you documents about the energy operations a long time ago, no? I was right after one of those; Riley additionally drugged me with something.”

  What the boss said—

  “To sum up, I see the look on your face, Avery. There was no consent. Like in your case. And even so, only now have I managed to get rid of the feeling of guilt.”

  “I don’t feel guilty,” Avery said firmly.

  “I know. I wonder what would help you,” the boss spoke slowly, as if it really puzzled him.

  Why did the boss keep thinking about someone else? And what was more—was the boss thinking about him?

  “We will see, Avery; maybe it’ll work out for you as well. Meanwhile, thank you,” the boss said.

  That was specific.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For the conversation. It seems to me that this is the first time you have talked to me, considering me a person, no?”

  It was correct. Avery had an epiphany.

  He hesitated; he wanted to say something; he wanted to show that, in fact, something had changed drastically. But this time, it was he who was interrupted.

  “Amazing. Progress. Avery, I will disappear now—perhaps not in front of people, though; at most they will think I am a Shadow. Thank you again.”

  “Of no problem—”

  The projection disappeared before Avery could finish.

  “—Taj.”