Lock In (Lock In, #1)(40)

Trinh held her hands in a way that expressed bored equanimity. “Maybe I’m wrong, Shane,” she said. “Maybe I’m just an * who had a bad experience with her when I had to deal with her. And maybe the two of you will get along just fine and you won’t feel like putting a bullet into your gut, or whatever. In which case, great. I hope the two of you are happy together. But then, maybe I’m not wrong. In which case, watch your partner, Shane.”

“I’ll do that,” I said.

“There’s some weird shit going on with Hadens,” Trinh said. “That thing at the Watergate. And I know you’re involved with whatever’s happening with Loudoun Pharma. If the two of you are working on something big, then the last thing you’re going to need is her falling apart. When she goes down you don’t want her to take you with her.”

“More clichés,” I said.

Trinh nodded. “It’s a cliché. Fine. On the other hand, you’re one of the most famous Hadens out there, aren’t you. Or used to be, anyway. Still famous enough that people called you a scab for showing up to work the other day. How will it look when you f*ck up because of Vann, Shane? How will it look for your dad, the next senator from Virginia?”

I didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Just a little something for you to think about,” Trinh said. “Take it however you want. Have a good night, Shane. Hopefully you don’t have to save anyone else before you get home.” She walked off.

* * *

There was a welcoming committee of threeps waiting for me when I got to the town house. They tossed confetti at me when I walked through the door.

“Whoa,” I said, fending off the tiny bits of paper.

“We wanted to make you feel at home on your first night,” Tony said.

“I don’t usually have confetti thrown at me when I come home,” I said.

“Maybe you should,” Tony said.

“Why do you have confetti anyway?” I asked.

“Left over from New Year’s,” he said. “Never mind that now. We also wanted to thank you for stepping in with Tayla’s little problem out there. She told us about it when she came home.”

“It’s not the usual way to meet your new housemate,” Tayla said.

“Let’s not make it a regular thing,” I said.

“I would be okay with that,” Tayla said.

“And these are your other new flatmates,” Tony said, pointing at the two remaining threeps. “That’s Sam over there—”

“Hey,” Sam said, raising a hand.

“Hello,” I said.

“—and this is the twins, Justin and Justine,” Tony said, pointing to the remaining threep. I was about to ask for clarification when a text popped into my field of vision, from Tony. Go with it, I’ll explain later, it said.

“Hello,” I said, to the twins’ threep.

“Hello,” at least one of the twins said back.

“Can we do anything for you to make you comfortable?” Tony asked. “I know you’ve had a fun-filled couple of days.”

“Actually, all I want to do right now is get some sleep,” I said. “I know that’s not very exciting, but it’s been a really long day.”

“Not a problem,” Tony said. “Your room is like you saw it the last time you were here. The desk chair has an induction pad in it. It should work for you until you get something better in there.”

“Perfect,” I said. “In that case, good night, everyone.”

“Wait,” said the twins, and then handed me a balloon. “We forgot to throw this at you when you came in.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“We blew it up ourselves,” the twins said.

I thought about the implications of that statement. “How?” I finally asked.

“Don’t ask,” they said.





Chapter Twelve

AND OF COURSE I couldn’t sleep. After three hours of trying I finally gave up and went to my cave.

For a Haden, personal space is a touchy subject. In the physical world there has always been a debate on how much space a Haden actually needs. Our bodies don’t move and most of them are in specialized medical cradles of greater or lesser complexity. A Haden needs space for their cradle and the medical equipment that attaches to it, and strictly speaking that’s all we need.

Likewise, for our threeps, space shouldn’t be an issue. Threeps are machines, and machines shouldn’t need personal space. A car doesn’t care how many other cars are in the garage. It just needs space to get in and get out. Put both of those together, and when people first started designing spaces for Hadens and their threeps, they were all like the efficiency apartments LaTasha Robinson showed me: small, clinical, no-nonsense.

Then people started noticing that Hadens had developed a spike of major depression, independent of the usual causes. The reason was obvious if anyone took any time to think about it. Haden bodies might be limited to their cradles, and threeps might be machines, but when a Haden was driving a threep, they were still a human being—and most human beings aren’t happy feeling like they live in a closet. Maybe Hadens don’t need as much physical space as naturally mobile people, but they still need some. Which is why those efficiency apartments were the Haden residence of last resort.