Once again Paul and I meet in front of our favorite café, The Mighty Pen. In James Bond style, I sneak the Fly back into his side pocket while giving him a one-armed embrace. He inspects it for any sign of damage or overuse. Satisfied, he tucks it back into the breast pocket of his designer jacket. 

"Now I can breathe again."

"Are you sure you can?" My voice sounds bitterer than Paul's ristretto. "Aren't you the least bit curious what I found?"

"With any luck, you've got a lead on the Viper." He curls his lip. "If you do, can I get a cut of the reward? Since I provided the Fly and all?"

"Flick the Viper!"

Paul narrows his eyes. "Watch your tongue, damn you! You'll be the death of both of us."

No, your coffee addiction will do the work for me.

With a scoff, he opens the old-school glass door for me. I lead us to our favorite booth. 

Our robotic assistant doesn't have to ask what we want to drink because we always order the same thing. Their index fingertip slides open and pours fresh coffee into our ceramic mugs. Sparkling water gushes from their pinky finger.  

"Just flag me when you're ready," says the robotic server before darting to the next table.

Reaching over to the condiments, I activate a holographic menu. The fancy 3D pictures that make my stomach rumble in protest. It even allows you to sample three meals digitally before ordering. 

Today calls for a celebration. Today's the day Paul and I destroy AG for good.

Normally we keep it simple and order some version of our favorite drug. But this is no time for a fancy coffee. I'm going to order enough food to turn into a prime hog.

"What are you getting?" I ask him.

"Ah, the usual."

"Jesus!"

He pinches the menu away. "What?"

"You need to eat something." I cast a glance over his hollow cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes. "Man does not live on coffee alone."

"What are you getting?"

"A rare bloody steak with extra fries and a garden salad," I reply with a grin. "I'm even going to get bleu cheese dressing. Don't give a damn if it costs me a hundred holocoins."

"Holy Moses, you did find a lead on the Viper, didn't you?" asks Paul, his eyes wide with awe.

"Dude, drop it with the Viper."

"Then what?"

"I've discovered something that will destroy AG's reputation forever," I whisper under my breath. "With this evidence, you can write the story of your life, and we'll free our mutual friend."

He narrows his eyes. "Who?"

"Who, indeed?"

Cue his blank stare.

"Zephyr," I say, incredulous. "Who else?"

Paul's eyes flash in anger. "Are you flicking kidding me? I told you to drop it!"

"I have proof."

"You said you understood," he whispers, slamming his palm on the wooden table. "We will not touch this slavery nonsense. I refuse to print that anarchist, left-wing, radical...bullshit!"

"What the flick is wrong with you?"

"Keep your goddamn voice down!"

"Or what? Huh?"

All the patrons are staring at us. Some are tutting. As we speak, my rating has decreased by point-oh-five points as they flood my wristband with one-star reviews. 

Don't even give a rat's ass anymore. 

I slap the device down on the marble tabletop. "I flicking defy you to talk down to me after you watch this."

Paul picks it up and strides toward the exit, with me close on his heels. He pushes the door open with a violent motion and doesn't bother to hold it open. Marching towards the dumpsters, out of sight of the drones, he throws my device on the asphalt. 

It splits open, revealing the memory disc.

"I don't give a flying fuck what you've found, Tara." He smashes it a few times with his foot until it's nothing but a pile of fragments. "You will drop this right now! Before you kill us both! And everyone we love!"

"You think you've destroyed the only copy?" I hold a second device between my thumb and index finger. "There are a hundred like it being sent to... Every. Single. Journalist I know. Until someone writes it."

"Flicking hell, Tara." He gives my shoulders a gentle shake. "What have you done?"

"I'm going to crack AG open like an egg."

"No, you're going to destroy me!" He runs his hand through his gray waves. "Jesus H. Christ, they'll trace the Fly back to me. Did you even think what they'd do to my family?"

"You taught me to find the truth!" I shout back at him. "At any price. You used to inspire me with your words. But now..."

"Tara..."

"Now you're..." I'm shaking with rage. "You're just a spineless...gutter rat!"

"Say that again, Tara." His words fall with deadly calm. "I defy you to say that again."

It's DEFCON-1. If he finally wakes the flick up, I welcome nuclear war between us.

"It's true."

"Give me the copies." 

"No."

His order falls as quiet as a whisper even though his body is shaking. Not with fear. But with restraint. If I were anyone else, he would have pummeled me into the ground. 

"Tara, you will give me... Every. Last. One of those recordings."

"The hell I will."

"Don't make me..." He takes a menacing step toward me. "I will...for my family's sake."

"This isn't the first time people have refused to stand up to authority, and it won't be the last."

Our breaths fall heavy in the silence. 

There's even an uncharacteristic lull in traffic noise. Paul stares at me, desperate for a sign that I'll give into his demands, but I don't. He'll either attack me or back down. 

I don't know which it'll be. Not even sure he does.

Paul's eyes widen as he gently shoves me away from him. "Do what you want. If you want to hurt innocent people like they do, go ahead. Whatever it takes to get a headline."

"It's not about that."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"Zephyr is suffering, Paul." I hold up the device again. "You have the power to stop AG. Right here, right now."

He runs a desperate hand through his hair. 

"You used to tell me stories about terrible soldiers who kept people trapped in fear." 

"This isn't the same. They targeted my family because they had a different race and creed."

"It doesn't matter if it's because of race. Or faith. Or class." I swallow the lump in my throat. "Any subjugation is wrong. Fear is wrong. Don't make the same mistake."

"What do you want from me?" 

"Tell people their story," I say. "Send the evidence to all your friends. Let them print your article across the entire VR world so that no one can ignore it anymore."

"It will destroy me."

My courage surprises even me. "Use my name."

Paul stares at me, shocked. "No. No way. Never!" 

"For the love of all that's holy! What is the quote you love so much?"

"Whoever saves a life, saves the world."

"You don't have to write about Stella. I understand. She's gone, and nothing will bring her back." I hand the device to him. "Please tell me you won't ignore this. Zephyr needs you."

"They don't need me."

"They need your strength," I insist. "Your resilience. Your forceful words. I can't make an impact on the public like you can. Our leaders look to the media giants like you as a bellweather."

"What makes you think that?" He scoffs. "A hundred years ago, sure. Not now."

"Bullshit!"

"Watch your tongue."

"You're their guiding light. You're their conscience. The dagger that stabs them every time they turn a blind eye to injustice. Your words mean they can't ignore the corporations anymore."

"I don't know, Tara."

"The people need to know they're not alone." Paul turns his face from me, deep in thought. I gently touch his cheek and turn his face until we lock eyes. "And so do I."

Police sirens whine in the air. As they draw nearer, my eardrums begin to ache.

In that instant, Paul makes his choice. He grabs the device and tucks it into his pocket like a gold coin from a cursed treasure. He speaks the words that haven't fallen from his lips in over ten years. Words of a bygone bonfire flickering to life once more. 

"Live the fight, Tara."

We clasp hands and squeeze tight. Our only anchor in an increasingly chaotic world. 

"Live the fight, Paul."

"Go...and don't look back."

___

Word count: 1,435
Total word count: 16,462/20,000

Thank you so much for reading! Ahhh, we're getting so close to the end. ♥ If you've enjoyed the story so far, please leave a comment, or click the little star in the upper right.