“You know what these implants can do,” hissed Tilley. “I can smash your skull against this wall, like cracking an egg. You know that, right?”
Zoey clawed uselessly around her neck. Then she reached down frantically with her left hand, digging into her pocket.
He said, “So it doesn’t matter whether or not I have the device, not to you. Because you know I can smear these tiles with your brains without breaking a sweat. Right?”
Shae begged him to stop, told him she didn’t want this, any of it.
Zoey’s lungs burned, trying to pull in breath through her compressed windpipe. Her hand found her phone. She brought it up with her right hand, holding it so the screen was visible over Dexter’s left shoulder. With a shaking thumb, she tapped the browser and brought up the list of hostage negotiation tips again. She found what she thought was the relevant sentence.
She croaked, “I … can take that request to my people. But … it will take some time…”
Dexter squinted in confusion, glanced back at the phone, then let her go. Zoey collapsed to the floor.
He said, “You’re dumber than they told me you were. I know you own this place, I know you’ve got the money. Whatever I want done, you can do it with a word.”
Zoey struggled to catch her breath. Her throat was throbbing. “I’m sorry … I’m used to being on Shae’s end.”
Shae said, “Can we please talk to that other guy instead?”
“I want half of the ten million in dollars,” said Tilley, “and half in Spoils, transferred to my Hub account.”
Still sitting on the tile floor, Zoey folded her legs under her and let out a sigh. Her neck was burning and she was starting to feel clammy all over from the shower steam. She pushed her hair out of her face.
“You know I can’t let you take her.”
“You can’t stop us.”
“‘Us?’ You’re acting like you’re running off together. You think she wants this? Look at her!”
“So what. For almost all of human history, this right here is how it was done. You wanted a woman, you acquired her, no different from livestock. I understand why, now. Women don’t know what they want. I can make Shae happy. She doesn’t know it now, because society has told her it’s shameful to be with a guy like me. All we have to do is push through that. In time, she’ll see.”
Zoey found herself wishing someone had in fact activated a device to melt her brain.
“I, uh, understand where you’re coming from, Dexter. And it’s good that you’re … honest about your desires—”
“No. You don’t even live in the same universe as I do. You notice ninety percent of the customers here are male? All of us, starving for this.”
“Yeah and ninety percent of the employees are girls, same as the sex workers in any of the thousand brothels in this city. You think they wouldn’t prefer to be doing something else? Meanwhile, I have to do boring meetings with rich CEOs every week and guess what—they’re mostly guys. That’s the world.”
Zoey had several vices in her life, perhaps none more dangerous than her addiction to pointless arguments.
“No,” said Tilley, trembling with the anticipation of finally putting all of this into words. “Look at you. You’re as fat as me and your face is nothing special, but even if you lost every penny you could always find a guy to take care of you. Men have wanted what you have since before you even knew what it was, begged you for it, done you favors. Meanwhile, I was treated like a slug on a sidewalk, told every day that no one wants me. You’ll never know what that’s like. So no, you won’t talk me out of this. We’re not even speaking the same language.”
“I just came from a party, a bunch of people there I barely know. This gross old rich guy was hitting on me the whole time. Do you know what he liked about me?”
“Your tits? That you look like you have no respect for yourself and will do anything in bed?”
“He liked that I’m twenty-three. How many years can pass before that window closes? All that humiliation you went through in school, all those cheerleaders getting treated like goddesses, I get it, I was there, too. But each and every one of those girls is praying they can get their lives to a solid place before society declares them invisible. Meanwhile, a guy can get old and ugly and still pick up prom queens as long as he’s got his life together. That can be you! Let Shae go, maybe we can work something out. Turn your whole situation around.”
Dexter reached over and grabbed Shae, roughly this time. He pulled her in front of him. An arm around her neck, a gloved finger stroking her collarbone.
“I’m not giving her up to some fraternity douchebag. You have five seconds to tear up her contract, or I’ll crush her windpipe.”
Zoey’s hand instinctively shot up to her own neck.
“There is no contract. She just made that up, to stall.”
Tilley scoffed and shook his head, as if he was annoyed with himself for falling for it. “So we don’t need you at all.”
“Well, you do now. There’s almost certainly a trigger-happy army waiting for you out there and your implants don’t make you explosion-proof.”
“Then they’ll take out Shae, too. We’ll die together. If that’s how it’s destined to happen, so be it. I still want the cash. We’re done talking.”
He raised his hand, putting his fingers around Shae’s throat. Zoey reached up, touching the MY EYES ARE UP THERE pendant, rubbing it between two fingers.
Zoey said, “Stop.”
“I said WE ARE DONE TALKING!” The shouts ricocheted around the tiles.
“I agree. Let go.”
Tilley loosened his grip.
His eyes went wide. Confusion. Doubt.
Zoey said, “Take your hand away from Shae’s throat. Drop it by your side.”
He did just that, his eyes following his hand as it dropped.
Terrified.
His hand was acting on its own.
Zoey said, “I forgot to mention before now, but my company developed those implants. Well, one of my companies. One product we never sold publicly was the remote override. I’ve got one embedded in my necklace here. It’s voice operated. Have a seat, on the floor. Let’s talk.”
Dexter Tilley did not move. He was trying to lunge at Zoey, she could see him flexing, trying to make his body obey. His face was turning red with the effort. For the first time in his life, his arms and legs were not his own. People have nightmares where this happens, right?
She touched the pendant and said, “Sit on the floor.”
His body did as it was told.
“Thank you. Shae, if you want to slap him or kick him, now is your chance.”
Shae had backed away, trembling. “I don’t understand what— I just want to go. Can I go?”
“I don’t want some private security dope out there to gun you down in the confusion. Give me a minute and we’ll all leave together. Now, we have several options for what we can do with Mr. Tilley here. And I’m leaving it up to you. If you want me to make him tear his own throat out, that’s what we’ll do.”
“I don’t want that.”
“What do you want?”