“Stop saying you know him,” Carlo Magno hissed. “Do you want to get us both arrested, too?”
“But it’s not supposed to end with him arrested,” Pati cried. “Why did he have to get arrested?”
“It’s simple,” said a voice by Pati’s side, and she looked up to see Bao standing over her. He was dressed like a Sigan security guard, but he pushed a button on his jacket and it changed color, becoming a plain old jacket. He took off his ball cap and stuffed it in his pocket, and suddenly he looked exactly like every other protester in the crowd. “When you try to get in somewhere, the first thing you do is plan how you’re going to get back out again. The only way to get Alain out of Sigan was to send him to prison.”
“Are you a part of this?” asked Carlo Magno.
“Good to see you,” said Bao. “Tell Mari congratulations.”
“But then how are you going to get him out of prison?” asked Pati.
“Getting out of prison’s easy.” He smiled and slipped into the crowd. “Just ask the seagull.”
“Wait!” shouted Carlo Magno. “What’s going on?”
But Bao was gone. Carlo Magno held Pati tightly, and the police put Alain into one of their cruisers.
In the middle of the plaza, the reporters looked earnestly into their camera nulis and shared the story with the world.
“I hate this part,” said Jaya. “Saying good-bye is the worst.”
Marisa pulled the last suitcase clear of the autocab, and it closed its doors and drove away. Anja grabbed Fang’s roller bag and the five girls headed into the airport, with Jaya’s little suitcase nuli following like an eager puppy.
“Look on the bright side,” said Sahara. “Which is literally every other side. We won the tournament, we gave the prize money to Mari’s family, and we friggin’ decimated KT Sigan. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and Johara’s already buying up their stock. It’s a classic hostile takeover.”
“It doesn’t sound very sexy,” said Anja, “but it’s going to destroy them. Or their American branch at least.”
“Plus we saved the restaurant,” said Jaya. “Ten thousand yuan isn’t a ton, but it’ll keep you going until the rest of Mirador gets back on its feet.”
“Not all the sides are bright sides,” said Marisa. “We lost Grendel—and if Sigan goes down, we’ve lost pretty much any chance we had of finding him again.”
“Don’t worry,” said Anja. “We’ll get him back.”
“How?”
“However we can,” said Jaya. “No one can disappear forever.”
“Thanks,” said Marisa. “Grendel doesn’t even affect you, so . . . that means a lot.”
“Of course we’ll help you,” said Fang. “What are friends for?”
Sahara smiled. “And can we please take yet another moment to bask in the stunning victory of Wong Fang and her Cherry Dogs? One of the most astounding victories this sport has ever seen?”
The girls cheered, for what felt like the thousandth time that weekend. The other travelers paid just barely enough attention to glare as they moved around them.
“That’s the great thing about fame,” said Marisa, watching the crowd ignore them. “We just did something amazing—and part of it was even public and legal, which is kind of new for us—and yet none of these people have any idea. The world goes on.”
“But we know,” said Jaya.
“And the Overworld fans know,” said Sahara. “We’ve already been invited to a real league—three different invitations to real leagues.” She grinned from ear to ear. “We did it.”
“Time to get a coach,” said Fang.
“Probably,” said Sahara. “Doesn’t hurt to look around, at least.”
“Heads up,” said Marisa, watching as the doors opened and another group of travelers walked in. “Psycho hose beast at six o’clock.”
They turned and saw Nightmare walking toward them, a purse in her hand and a very expensive suitcase following close behind. She walked toward them solemnly, and stopped a few feet away.
“Congratulations again,” she said, and looked at Fang. “Zhùhè.”
“Xiè xie,” said Fang.
“Now that you’ve had a taste of the big leagues,” said Zi, still looking at Fang, “have you thought about joining a real team?”
“She’s on a real team,” said Sahara.
“She’s on a very good up-and-coming team,” said Zi. “One that’s definitely going to be a real team someday.” She looked at Sahara. “I mean that.” She looked back at Fang. “But it’s going to take a while, and you’re ready now. I’m offering you a place on Wu Squad, if you want it. Our Jungler is retiring at the end of the season.”
Fang looked shocked. “I . . .”
“You’re too good for the Cherry Dogs,” said Nightmare. “Believe me. You’re probably fighting with Sahara constantly over strategy, right?”
Fang and Sahara looked at each other, guilty grimaces creeping across their faces.
“I can give you something they can’t,” said Zi. “A major-league team, with a coach and sponsors and living expenses and the whole thing. Endorsement deals and top-level play. That’s the world you belong in, Fang.”
Fang looked at her a moment, then at the other girls in the group. Her gaze fell on Marisa last of all, and she stared at her a moment before turning back to Zi.
“I already have something you can never give anyone,” said Fang, and smiled. “The best friends in the world.” She put her arms around Marisa and Sahara, the two girls standing closest to her; it was the first time she’d voluntarily touched anyone since she’d arrived. “I’m pretty sure I’m exactly where I belong.”
Zi stared at them a moment, then rolled her eyes and walked away. Anja and Jaya gathered in from the sides, and Fang stuck her hand into the middle of the circle.
“Team hand thing?” asked Fang.
“See?” said Anja, putting her hand on top of Fang’s. “This is the perfect time for a hand thing—not in the cab when I’m not there.”
Jaya and Sahara put their hands on the stack, and Marisa put her hand on top. “I love you guys,” she said.
Sahara smiled. “Cherry Dogs forever.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Can I thank the entire video games industry? And everyone who ever made a sports movie. And a heist movie. And a sports movie that was also a heist movie. Do they make those? I don’t think they make those. A hearty thank you, then, to Jules Dassin, who created what is arguably the first heist movie in 1955, called Rififi, and thus kicked off my favorite little subgenre of fiction. I’m delighted to have finally joined that subgenre with Ones and Zeroes.
I must also thank my editor, Jordan Brown; my agent, Sara Crowe; and everyone who works with them behind the scenes. My assistant, Kenna Blaylock, is invaluable. My friends and early readers are indispensable: Allison Hill, Mary Robinette Kowal, Gama Martinez, Brandon Sanderson, Howard Tayler, Larry Van Lent, Audrey Wells, Dawn Wells, Robison Wells, Natalie Whipple, and more. And, of course, I can’t forget my second-favorite Overworld team, the illustrious Your Mom: John Brown, Steve Diamond, Javier Mixco, Maija-Liisa Phipps, and Ethan Sproat. I couldn’t have written this book without Your Mom. Your Mom was really useful in those long, hard, late-night sessions.
I am not exactly good at video games myself, but I do love to play them, and I have a Cherry Dogs team in both League of Legends and Overwatch. If you’ve played with me online, thanks for inspiring me; if not, look me up, and let’s have a game.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DAN WELLS is the author of Bluescreen as well a
s the bestselling Partials Sequence and the John Cleaver series, the first book of which, I Am Not a Serial Killer, has been made into a major motion picture. He has been nominated for the Campbell Award and has won a Hugo Award and three Parsec Awards for his podcast Writing Excuses. He plays a lot of games, reads a lot of books, and eats a lot of food, which is pretty much the ideal life he imagined for himself as a child. You can find out more online at www.thedanwells.com.
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BOOKS BY DAN WELLS
THE MIRADOR SERIES
BLUESCREEN
ONES AND ZEROES
THE OTHER LEFT
THE PARTIALS SEQUENCE
PARTIALS
FRAGMENTS
RUINS
ISOLATION
PARTIALS SERIES COMPLETE COLLECTION
CREDITS
Cover art © 2017 by Sebastien Hue
Cover photograph of models by Michael Frost
Cover design by Michelle Taormina
COPYRIGHT
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
ONES AND ZEROES. Copyright © 2017 by Dan Wells. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016949509
ISBN 978-0-06-234790-9
EPub Edition © January 2017 ISBN 9780062347923
* * *
17 18 19 20 21 PC/LSCH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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Dan Wells, Ones and Zeroes
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