The AetherMall was at the center of the city. It was a sprawling complex of fashion shops and luxury entertainment suites that stretched on for nearly a mile. A few people whispered and stared as they passed. Jenx turned up the collar of his jacket.

“Can’t we just choose a store and go in?” he muttered.

“The Prince wants to look around, Jenx,” Yasha said. He hung onto Florzel’s arm.

Florzel squinted down the interminable hall. Then he asked, “What sort of stores does your kind of person frequent?”

“Um, ‘my kind of person’ doesn’t shop at the mall,” Jenx said. “I’m a tailor. I custom print everything I wear.”

“It’s because he wants to wear dresses but he’s too skinny to pull off the regular sizes,” Yasha explained. Florzel smirked.

“It’s not just that,” Jenx said, a bit miffed. “I like to design clothes. A lot of the stuff in the stores is so… garish.”

“You’re no fun at all,” Yasha said. “Perhaps You Highness would like to visit this one?” He gestured to a dimly lit shop that smelled heavily of cologne. “They have a sort of beachy style-- beachy, but fancy.”

“Sounds fine,” Florzel said. They all went inside. Some bland pop hit played quietly over the loudspeaker. Jenx cast a critical eye across the selection. It was all very decadent and overpriced. He could make something much better on his own.

“Oh!” Yasha exclaimed. He held up a pair of peach short-shorts. “Wouldn’t these look cute on me? I gotta try ‘em on.”

He went back into the changing room. Jenx sifted through the clearance rack. He pulled out a large beige sweater. Perhaps he could use the material. He looked up when he saw Florzel studying him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What do you want?” Florzel asked him, in response. Seeing his confusion, he elaborated, “In return for your silence, I mean.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Jenx said. He hung the sweater back up.

“It helps to make a deal,” Florzel said. “It makes us both responsible for holding up our ends.”

“Alright,” Jenx said. “I want you to leave me and my friends alone.”

“Hm,” Florzel said. He smiled. “Not possible, I’m afraid.”

“See? You can’t give me anything I’d actually want,” Jenx said.

“What about money?”

Jenx snickered. “Yeah, and then what would I be? An independently wealthy programmer living in a duplex?”

“You wouldn’t have to be a programmer anymore,” Florzel said. “I could get you reassigned.”

Jenx almost wanted to believe him. Then he shook his head. “No. You couldn’t. I was born to be a programmer, just like Yasha was born to be a Gwami.”

“Eh,” Florzel shrugged. “Some people might say that. Some people might think otherwise.”

“What do you mean?” Jenx asked.

“Some people might say that the whole ‘you are your genetic code’ thing is a load of propaganda,” Florzel said, “not the fact they tell you it is in the academy.”

“They don’t lie at the academy,” Jenx said.

“Some people might say they do,” Florzel said.

“Even if they did,” Jenx said, “my chip says I’m a programmer. You couldn’t change that.”

“I can,” Florzel said. “Give me your wrist.”

Jenx hesitated. Then he held out his hand. Florzel pressed the vein where the chip was. There was an odd, cold feeling. Jenx gasped. Then the feeling stopped.

“I’ve overridden it,” Florzel said. “Now you can be anything you want. Live anywhere you want.”

Jenx touched his wrist. “Anything?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Florzel said. “You’ll need a replacement for your old job. I’ll arrange you a generous stipend. You’ll be under my protection.”

Jenx looked up at him. “Why are you being so nice?” he asked.

“Because you’re a liability,” Florzel said.

“Yes,” Jenx said, “but you don’t keep liabilities happy. You kill them. Or, at least, your father does.”

“Yikes. A little fresh, aren’t we?” Florzel said.

Jenx blinked. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-- I didn’t mean--”

“Side effect of the chip’s deactivation,” Florzel said. “It’s alright. I don’t mind-- really.”

Yasha returned from the dressing room, looking dejected. “My thighs are too big,” he complained. “Jenx, you should try it on, it’d look better on you.”

“I think I’m good,” Jenx said. “They’re kind of exactly my skin tone. It’d be like I was ass naked.”

“Well, duh, that’s the point,” Yasha said. “People will say, damn, is that guy ass naked? But nope, it’s a pair of cute booty shorts.”

Florzel laughed, and Yasha beamed. He took Florzel’s arm again and asked him, “What else would you like to see at the mall today?”

“Let’s go to the VR center,” Florzel suggested.

Yasha hopped a little. “Oh, yes! What sort of game do you play?”

“I’ve never played, actually,” Florzel said. “It’s sort of a common thing to do.”

“I absolutely agree,” Yasha said. “Jenx, you’d know about VR.”

Jenx decided to ignore the insult. After all, he had suddenly become fabulously, extravagantly rich. He could afford a sense of humor. “Well,” he said, “I do like going to the virtual zoo. It’s interesting to see what the ancient rainforests were like, and to see all the extinct species.”

“Ugh, that sounds so educational,” Yasha complained.

“It might be fun,” Florzel said.

“It is. My parents took me there all the time when I was a kid,” Jenx said.

“Then let’s go,” Florzel said. “You coming, Yasha?”

“Of course,” Yasha said. “As long as I don’t have to expand my mind or whatever.”

----------

He was there with him once again, only a breath away from him. He was watching Rifter intensely, all the while standing so still that a butterfly could have landed on his dark lashes. Rifter leaned forward, gently pressing a hand to his cheek. He almost drew back in surprise, realizing with a start how warm it was.

“We did it didn’t we...it worked…” He paused, his green gaze still locked with Rifter’s.

“I think perhaps…”

And then he was screaming, they were both screaming. Everything was wrong, everything was horribly horribly wrong. And he was grabbing for him, sobbing. Rifter was gripping his hand tightly, swearing that he wouldn’t let go. And he didn’t...the rest of the arm broke off instead. And then Rifter was screaming again, screaming his name over and over and over until his throat was hoarse.

Rifter jerked awake now, his eyes stinging. He wiped them on his sleeve, slowly getting out of bed. He dressed and bathed himself as he did every morning, ate a well managed breakfast, only taking a bite a full ten minutes after his taste testers had tried it. Then, as he always did he went to his work room. As he stepped inside his gaze fell to the large portrait of the green haired girl that was placed there. He approached it, staring up at her. There was no one there to talk to, this was his special room, the place for the projects only he and a few others could know about. Despite this fact, after a beat he ran his thumb down the line of the girl’s jaw in the portrait and said softly,

“I am so very glad the emperor let me give her your face Luciel.”