Boyband shook me awake as we descended. I awoke to orange sunlight cast across fields of yellow and green grain.


    Multistoried barns stood close to each other like rustic skyscrapers. Switchback conveyor belts moved to shuttle crates up through multiple doors that had the outward appearance of red wood, though I knew it was just an imitation.


    “Is that it?” Naoma pointed to the holomap on the dashboard.


    “Yup. My parents’ farm is just north, just past the distribution center and outlets. You''ll see plenty of blue barns in a line with a field on one side and a lake on the other.”


    “Got it.”


    “Park to the right of the third one.”


    She did as she was told, landing on a concrete pad before large glass doors. The Eclaine farm looked more like a village with a row of buildings to complement the description. While most of them still held the visage of farmhouses, the square structure and modern build of the one in front of us told that it was the office building.


    Boyband led us to the doors. Naoma walked with eyes straight ahead. I couldn''t help but marvel at the backs of grazing animals hidden amongst tall grass. Bubbles and occasional jumping fish filled the lake. Could these be living animals? They were bound to have some. While I knew they had plenty of estate, this much could be only purchased by moguls of true animal products. I wondered what actual milk tasted like. Did real cheese actually grow mold?


    My knowledge of how the SocStan party worked was limited to rumors and Deleon''s ramblings. He, like many who invested in an ever expensive secondary education, hated that the once-poor jobs now thrived. Any excuse to validate his elite education found ground in complaining. When the world saw construction work, farming, and other trade positions as secondary, society broke at its seams. A new generation pursued those undesirable jobs, making the world realize how essential they had become, and turned it for a profit as one of the leading political parties. Androids and AI dominating positions in the tech industry only helped to prove the worth of the SocStan plight.


    The doors opened automatically. A man in an indigo suit sat on a swiveling chair in the middle of a circular desk with multiple floating security panels showing movement around the farm campus.


    “Devóne?” He dropped a tablet onto the desk as he stood. He had a dark complexion and was bald with a vision implant like Tevon''s, except the silver band on his curled around the circumference of his head.


    Boyband chuckled. “Thought you’d never see this face again, did you, Lorren?”


    Lorren shook his head and stepped out through the hole in the desk’s circle. “But–but–your parents. We thought you–”


    “I’m not.”


    Lorren scowled and looked up at Naoma and me. “Were you with them the whole time?” His voice switched between humble confusion and a stern tone to match his security guard composure.


    “Does it matter?”


    “Of course, sir. Sorry sir.”


    “Have any of the other families been asking about me?”


    “No, why–”


    “Who owns the estate now?”


    “Your father’s sister is currently in a legal battle over that matter. It began days after you…left.”


    “Battle between what people?”


    “The surrounding farms have all appointed their legal representatives to turn the land over for a public auction. They believe that such a crucial part of the republic’s agriculture cannot fall into inexperienced hands. Your aunt wants it to stay with the family. No one has found a will. That remains yet another tenant of controversy.”


    “Has anyone said anything about who murdered them?”


    Lorren shrugged. “With the drama following the event, one finds it hard to believe that this was a natural disaster, but there is little known.”


    “How much of the farm burnt down?”


    “Only a few buildings on the western side. Your home remains standing.”


    “Which buildings did we lose?”


    “Two warehouses and your parent’s office”


    “Hmm.”


    “Do you think that office had anything to do with the murder?” Naoma asked. I was relieved she remembered to adopt her disguise.


    Boyband shrugged. “We’ll talk about that later.” He looked back at Lorren. “Send a few members of the tech team to the mansion. I have a neurospace issue that needs fixing.”


    “Of course, sir, but–where in the name of the light have you been?”


    Boyband scowled. “Away.” He turned back and waved for us to follow. He spared Lorren one last glance. “I’ll send you a message when my neurospace is back online. I want you to send me everything you have on my parent’s death investigation, the legal battles, anything a curious little boy like me would want to know.”


    “Of course, Master Eclaine.”


    “Don’t worry, Lorren,” he said as we walked through the doors. “The legal complications will pass on as soon as they know an heir to the Eclaine empire has survived.”


    “Zeg, look who’s in power now,” I chuckled.


    “Where are we going, Devóne?”


    “Stick with Boyband. We’re going back to my home. I’m going to find out who zegging killed my parents.”


    “Hey,” I put my hand on his shoulder.


    He glared at me, then relaxed as he remembered that I wasn’t one of his parents’ servants.


    “Let''s get some sleep.”


    “Piss off.”


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “I would like that,” Naoma said.


    “My piss?”


    She rolled her eyes at Boyband. “I don’t care what implants or mods you have. My body needs rest.”


    “But we don’t, right Petya?”


    “You especially need it. The Bite will let you stay awake perpetually with proper feeding, but the mind can’t handle it. Life demands order. Zeg it up and you zeg yourself. Regardless, I want to lie low for at least the rest of the day. I need some time to make sure we aren’t being followed and to cover our trails. Our minds need to be refreshed for what is coming. Get us back on the neurospace network with those tech assistants and I’ll get an update from Ralia. Is your place safe?”


    “We got all we zeggin’ need. Might not have all the violet powered defense that Miss Neon Idol had her whole life, but we have plenty of sentries, automatons, automatic turrets, you name it. We’ll kill any shac that tries to touch our cattle, or us in this circumstance.”


    Naoma opened her mouth with a furrowed brow but let her frustration puff away with a sigh. Was her past so simple? Had Reef taken her as a talented singer or did they make her into one? She was human, wasn’t she? I felt sick even considering that she could be a shac. She could be transmitting everything we say. Maybe we didn’t break her free from her shell but only disabled a program. I dug my fingernail into my pointer finger until it hurt. I had to think about something else.


    “Are your cows real?” My voice came off forced and awkward, but they seemed to not think anything of it.


    Boyband smirked. “Oh, you poor boy. Have you ever had non-printed beef?”


    I shook my head.


    “Zeg the farm. It’s mine anyway. I''ll give you a look and I’ll have one of my parent’s chefs make something for us. They have to be here still feeding the remaining workers. See the farm, eat, then we’ll call it a night while we figure out the bugs with our neurosystems.”


    My tongue flooded with curiosity and hunger.


    I couldn’t fathom what it would taste like without the bitter sting of chemicals and the inherent burnt plastic aftertaste. I stopped before asking about trying some of his produce, if they had any fresh crops to spare. The cocky kid would be sure to share some if he had it, but I couldn''t spoil my palette. Food was enjoyable, but more of a distraction when compared to the necessity of teeth. How long could the kid keep us here before he ate one of his family’s servants?


    “We’ll have to keep moving,” I said. “At least until we’ve settled matters with Techvax and whoever is with them.”


    “How do you hope this will end?”


    We turned to Naoma. Real beef no longer occupied my mind.


    “I want to come back here,” Boyband said. “Get the zeg out of Deleon’s cult and remove the Bite.”


    “And if they can’t remove it?” she asked.


    “Pfft, I’ll find another way.”


    “You, Petya? Where do you see yourself? You can’t keep running.”


    From what? Where? What about you? If I ran away from the grasp of society, would you run with me? “Boyband said the SocStans will help fulfill Deleon’s promise. That is enough for me to think about. There never is an end until we join with the light, right? What about you?”


    She smirked. I couldn''t find sincere joy in her face.


    “Back to music?”


    “The world needs its Naoma,” Boyband said.


    She looked at the ground. “I''m sure I''ll figure it out.”


    Boyband spoke after a moment of silence without eye contact. “Follow me. I''ll show you around. It''s about a quarter-mile walk to my place. My parents like being close to everything, but far enough to leave the business behind if needed.”


    “Your dad''s office was here though, right?” I asked.


    “With the other business buildings? Yes. Maybe we''ll see what''s left of it, unless they''ve already removed the damaged property. I doubt it. It sounds like a mess here. At least we''ve got plenty of ands on staff.”


    “Was Lorren an android?” I asked. Part of me hoped he was with how demeaning Boyband had been with him.


    “No. He''s one of the few humans. The personal chefs are human and a few others that require an artist’s touch.”


    “Glad to hear your parents don''t endorse algorithms as art,” Naoma said.


    “And-made food is always the same. The chefs here always surprise me. I get that you''re not an AI-art supporter, but isn''t your music based on corporate algorithms?”


    “Why do you think I hate it so much? That''s Anton''s Music, Reef’s music. Funny enough, the other artists he produces are all true talent, as far as I know. I guess I''m the only one of his that is owned by an outside company.”


    “Keep AI where it belongs,” Boyband said, “in medical accuracy, bureaucratic functionalities, you know the rest. I do have to thank some AI and taking over plenty of jobs. Without them, the blue collar labor of the SocStan founders never would have found worth in our modern society.”


    “You sound a lot more mature,” I said.


    “Zeg you.”


    I chortled. “There he is.”


    He waved for us to follow and walked a few feet ahead, flipping off any ands in the field as they did the menial gathering of a variety of crops that I had only seen in advertisements for restaurants that could only be found in the high end Blue District and above. Indigo light shone above the crops in a lattice of light rods.


    “I’m sorry to hear how poorly you were treated as a refugee,” Naoma said.


    Boyband walked with his head held high, not caring to listen to us.


    “Thanks.”


    We let the silence sit for a few moments.


    “You didn’t have similar experiences, did you?” I asked.


    “My life before Reef is a blur.”


    I smirked. “I get that. It’s hard to believe that I had anything before working for Deleon. It feels like a dream, too.”


    “No, you misunderstood. It is a literal blur. Knowledge, general human competence, it''s all there, but the experiences are gone. You might have broken down one of Anton’s walls, but some still remain. Will I pursue music when I’m out of this? Sure, I’d love to, but I don’t know if I am capable of it without his programming. Even if I can sing, you can’t download creativity like I downloaded the skyshuttle flight proficiency. You would think I was paid well, being the top selling artist for two years in a row, but Anton has no need to pay his products. The version of me he controlled didn’t care about pay when everything was provided for me. Without Reef, I’m nothing.”


    “So you want to go back?”


    “Zeg, no. I want to break down Anton’s last wall to discover my past.” She sniffed and looked away from me. “I want to be sure that I am human.”


    Her existential crisis burned what soul remained within me. I was sure she was human. She had to be. “We can test that by other means, you know?”


    “I’ve done it before. I am human, but I mean–I need a past. I need purpose. If I have nothing but a memory of being a glorified advertisement for the Finians and their associates, I’m worse off than any and who go back to an artificial family at the end of the day.”


    “Belonging.”


    “What?”


    “You want to belong.”


    “Sure, put it that way. I–I just don’t know. I’m zegging lost, Petya. What I mean to say is that if we survive this, If you help me and Boyband live actual lives once again, you’re better than any sin of eating teeth could ruin you. You can be–you are a good person. I don’t care about what you have done. You ran out into the Red. Zeg me if you’re some manipulative freak that gets off on this all being a cruel trick, but I doubt that. I can tell you’re tormented by what you have to do.”


    She adopted her natural look. Her violet hair and makeup looked Indigo under the field’s lights. “Don’t give up on this.”


    Any boyish fantasy had been banished for the sake of reality. I could kiss her. I wanted to, only having known each other for a few days. She was beyond any dream imagined while listening to her music. She was not the Neon Idol, but a real person. Confused, terrified, and in search of purpose in an increasingly artificial world. Her eyes were magnets. She stepped closer. Our hands brushed.


    She might have thought that I was a good person. I did not. I hoped to prove myself wrong, but knew the abominations I would have to commit to ensure the future that she envisioned.


    I grabbed my hands behind my back and walked up to pace with Boyband. Zeg, it was painfully awkward, but I was glad she came along.