Wildcard (Warcross #2)(66)

I send a reply.

When will I see you and Taylor?



When Hideo finishes greeting you, the new Warcross world for the closing ceremony will open. Hideo will personally announce it to the audience. For a moment, you, the other players, and Hideo will all be inside this world at the same time. That’s the moment right before the beta lenses get patched, and the moment you will be able to hack into his mind.

Zero pauses.

Be prepared. We’ll see you on the floor of the arena.

I will.



Our conversation ends. I bring up the cube in my hand again, letting Zero’s hack hover in my palms. I know Hideo will seize the chance to trap Taylor in the algorithm, hopefully freeing his brother. But the algorithm itself . . . I think back to the image of Hideo’s uncertain face as he stood with me on the deck of his yacht.

I break open the cube to stare at the code, letting the glowing blue rows of text fill the interior of the car, and then close it back up again. I have to believe that he’ll do what he knows is right. End it.

But if he doesn’t, I’ll be ready for him.

I take a deep breath. Then I reach out to Hideo, asking him to Link with me. For a while, I stare at the glowing green halo around his profile, suddenly wondering if he’s changed his mind.

Then, a pleasant ding sounds. I feel the familiar trickle of his emotions into my mind. He’s tense and uneasy. But most of all, he feels ready, surrounded in a dark, sure aura. Neither of us says a word.

I close my eyes at his presence, letting myself stay immersed a while longer in nothing but this glimmer of his feelings and thoughts. Then we reach the grounds of the Tokyo Dome, and I open my eyes to the roar of crowds gathered outside the stadium.

Thirty minutes until the beta lenses patch.

Giant projections of today’s players broadcast against building walls and holograms of our championship highlights looming along the stadium’s perimeters. As the sight of my own footage comes into view, I hear the broadcast paired with it.

“—in the move to allow controversial wild card Emika Chen, originally of the Phoenix Riders, to play in the closing ceremony following her dismissal from the team. Chen, this year’s number one draft pick, had so many write-in votes that—”

For a brief moment, I feel that thrill again of being escorted to the dome for another game of Warcross, of standing with teammates and fidgeting, eager to be the ones to win.

Now I’m heading back into the arena for a different reason altogether.

Soon, I join other black cars carrying official players until there is a caravan of us heading in the same direction. I find myself clenching and unclenching my fists in rapid succession. Stripes of all the teams’ colors adorn the sides of the dome today, and suspended overhead is an enormous Warcross logo in silver chrome, rotating slowly.

I step out of the car in a daze and follow the bodyguards that are already waiting for me on the red carpet leading into the stadium. People crowd along either side, dressed up like their favorite players and waving their banners and posters. They let out a deafening cheer when they catch sight of me. All I can do is look back at them and smile desperately, unable to tell them any of what’s really happening. Behind and ahead of me, I recognize a few of my fellow top-ten players who will play today. They’re all here. More cheers shake the ground as each of them make their way past the throngs.

Then we’re inside the dome, and I’m shrouded in the arena’s darkness, illuminated only by a path of colored light leading out into the center of the stadium. The booming voices of analysts along the top floors echoes around the space.

“And here come another wave of players, folks! We’ve spotted Team Andromeda—Captain Shahira Boulous leading her players in, Ivo Erikkson, Penn Wachowski—”

“—followed by the Demon Brigade’s Jena MacNeil and her crew—”

Their words are nearly drowned out by the audience. As I reach the edge of the arena, the Phoenix Riders come into view. Hammie and Roshan are already here, waiting with the other players of today’s match. Asher’s out in the audience with the players who weren’t chosen or who’d already been chosen last year.

Out of all the players, my teammates look the most tense. They know what’s going to happen. The sight of them tugs at my heart, and I find myself unconsciously turning toward them.

Roshan sees me first, nudges Hammie, and waves to me. Overhead, the analysts say my name, while images play around the arena of footage from when I was still an official player.

Even in a stadium full of people, I feel vulnerable. The last time I was exposed in public like this, I’d almost died. My gaze sweeps the audience, searching in vain for Taylor and expecting to glimpse Zero in the shadows of the arena’s halls. The back of my neck prickles as it once did on the rain-swept streets of Shinjuku. He could be anywhere. Everywhere. And even though I can’t see him, I know he’s watching me.

Still, I keep my smile plastered on, knowing that I’m currently being projected for everyone to see. Jax. If Zero is here, then that means she probably is too, looking out for me. The thought of her gives me some small comfort, and for a second, my smile is genuine.

Fifteen minutes until the beta lenses patch.

As the last of the players file into the arena’s center, the sweeping lights dim and the overheads brighten. Everyone in the stadium disappears behind the glow that surrounds us. I stare out into the darkness as a voice starts to introduce each of us.