Page 130 of Neon Flux

“I was about to risk my life on a mission with you—of course I looked you up. Sarah Leewood, youngest child of Miranda Leewood, CEO of RejuvaLife Pharmaceuticals, net worth: 4.2billion. One of five kids, all set up with their own trust funds. You could’ve actually changed things with that kind of money, but instead you’re out here playing revolutionary.”

The color drained from her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? You walked away from real resources that could’ve helped thousands so you could run around with Deacon and his band of idiots. You think blowing up a data center helps anyone? How many people died when that grid went down?”

“You can’t change the system from within,” she hissed, leaning forward. “I tried that. Redirecting funds, setting up unauthorized treatment programs, smuggling meds to Magenta clinics. You know what happened? They caught me, locked me in a ‘wellness center’ for six months, and undid everything. Every. Single. Thing. To protect the bottom line.”

“So what—Daddy wouldn’t give you the keys to the kingdom, so you decided to burn it down instead?”

“Don’t you dare simplify this,” she snapped, her composure slipping. “The system isn’t broken, E. It’s working exactly as designed. It’s engineered to extract profit from suffering—our suffering. You have no idea what it’s like to be inside that world and see how it really works.”

I refused to feel sympathy. “And that justifies putting innocent lives at risk? People died in that explosion, Taos.”

“People die every day because they can’t afford basic medical care!” Her voice rose, then she caught herself, glancing around at the sterile, spa-like surroundings. When she continued, her voice was low and intense. “You think I chose this path lightly?”

“I think you wanted to be a hero,” I shot back. “Easier than the hard work of actual systemic change. Easier than staying at RejuvaLife and using your position to help people who needed it.”

“What do you know about helping people? You’re fucking working for POM!”

That I was. And I needed this job to keep helping the one person who actually mattered to me.

“Youwillget me into the Church. I found that kaijin pendejo for you and fucked him to within an inch of his life so you and your little gang could play folk hero. I put my life on the line—my friend did too—so you could do what? Cause some property damage? Some revolution. You owe me this.”

Taos rolled her eyes. “Your friend? Please. That wasn’t exactly a hardship for either of you. It’s what she does for a living anyway.”

My Flux sparked beneath my skin before I could stop it. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, come on,” she said dismissively. “Let’s not pretend she’s some revolutionary hero. She’s just a—”

“Choose your next words very carefully.”

She gave me a confused look. “I’m not saying you’re like her—”

“Oh, but I am. Except Mercy is kind, generous, and forgiving. I’m not. So tread lightly.”

The lights in the spa flickered, reacting to the electromagnetic disturbance I was barely containing.

Taos glanced at the flickering lights, then back at me, something like envy flashing across her features. “There you go again with your precious Flux. So easy for you, isn’t it? Born with power the rest of us can only dream about. Did you know I’m the only one of my siblings without Flux?”

“Should I feel bad for you? Mercy took a risk to help. She didn’t have to. Neither did I.”

“Fine,” Taos said, waving her hand like she was swatting a fly. “Your friend helped. Great. But it’s not like I can just walk you into an Echelon service. My parents are members, not me.”

“But they take you to special events,” I pressed. “You know the security protocols. The access points.”

She looked away. “I cut ties with my family. I told you that.”

“Yet here you are”—I gestured around the high-end spa—“in a clinic I could never get an appointment at.”

Her jaw tightened. “I have my reasons.”

“And I have mine for needing Church access. So unless you want POM to know exactly who modified that code—and they will, because their analysts are actually competent—you’ll help me.”

She glared at me, hatred and calculation warring in her expression. “Fine. You want in? Your Flux is your ticket. The Church is obsessed with eletrotekniks—something about resonance patterns bridging the physical and digital realms. They’ll give you the royal treatment if you claim you need their help. Just say…say Brother Ian said you’d be a good candidate. That should get you where you need to go.”

“That’s it?”

“It’s all you’ll need. Trust me.”