Playing Tyler by T L Costa

Author:T L Costa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2013-07-02T04:00:00+00:00

The water of the fountain flows in quick, choppy little waves. I stare into it, each little crest of water rising up to taunt me. He’s alive. B’s alive and able to use a phone. To call some guy in Canada. Cause he’s worried about me. But he can’t call me. Can’t call his mom who doesn’t sleep anymore.

Angry, sharp little waves. Wish I could jump in. Wish it was deep. Even though it’s cold. My face is wet. Stinging. Hurting in the chill wind. I wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve. Don’t care. Don’t care if people notice. Who are they to judge?

I turn my head to the Beinecke rare book library. Odd gray and white cube. She’s in there, Ani. I’ll wait. Class should be almost over. Weird place to have class. Who designs a building shaped like that, anyway? I can’t decide if I like it or not. Doesn’t matter, though, one way or the other.

I hear her. Soft voice, like rain. Talking. About homework or something. I get up, walk over. She nods goodbye to the girl she’s talking to and I say, “I just got a call. Some guy in Canada.”

“Canada?” Her eyes narrow and she readjusts her backpack on her shoulder. “What are you talking about?” She looks down at my knuckles, bleeding, sore. “What happened to your hand?”

“Nothing’s wrong with my hand, it’s fine. Listen, a reporter. B called some reporter in Canada. The Montreal Standard, I think.”

“Why would he call some reporter?”

“He’s an old friend of B’s or something, an investigative journalist, wrote a book about Tidewater. You know, Haranco’s parent company?”

Her mouth opens slightly. “Oh no.”

“Yeah.” Some guys at the edge of the fountain are looking at us. Why are they looking at us? Totally creepy. I motion to Ani, start to walk. Walking helps me think.

“What did he want?”

“Information.”

“About?”

“About Rick, the UCS sim.” Those guys. Staring. Are they looking at her ass? I’ll kill them if they are. “He thinks there’s something weird going on.”

Her eyes follow the trail of a bus. Watching as it takes a corner. Then she looks up at me. Brown eyes open wide. “What about you, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think they might be right.” What if I killed Bashir Hamad? “There’s been some nights, some missions that just seem too real, you know?”

“But the simulator–”

“It’s built to be a model of the real remote-access terminal for the UAVs, right? So would it be that hard for Rick to have linked it up with actual drones?”

“No. It would be easy, actually.”

“Right.” I have to ask, have to know. “You didn’t link them, though. You didn’t do that.”

“No.”

“Even if it paid the cash for Yale that the scholarship didn’t cover?” I have to see her face when she talks. To know.

“Never.” The word is solemn, face pinched. “How could you even think that?”

“I’m not thinking anything. I’m just trying to make sense of this. I mean, we’re both a part of whatever’s going on.

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