The Thousandth Floor. Катарина Макги

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      As you wish, Watt couldn’t help replying.

      In addition, the girl went on, ignoring the sarcastic turn of phrase, I’m offering a weekly payment in exchange for constant updates on him—what he’s doing, where he’s going, any information you can provide. This is all for his own safety, she concluded, in an incredibly unconvincing afterthought.

      His safety, sure, Watt thought with a laugh. He knew a spurned-lover post when he saw one. This had to be either Atlas’s ex-girlfriend trying to win him back, or a current girlfriend worried about him cheating on her. Either way, the job was a freaking gold mine. Watt had never even seen a request for a hacker on retainer before; most H@cker Haus posts were one-time gigs, because most hacks were, by nature, one-and-dones. This girl wanted to send him weekly payments, just to track her crush’s movements? It was easy money, and he had no intention of messing it up.

      “Leda Cole,” Watt said aloud as he pushed SEND, “it’s going to be a real pleasure doing business with you.”

       LEDA

      “GOOD AFTERNOON, MISS Cole,” said Jeffrey, the doorman at Altitude Club, as Leda walked up to the elevator bank the next day. Altitude had biosecurity too, of course: Leda knew her retina had been scanned the moment she stepped into the entrance hall. But Jeffrey was the kind of personalized and old-fashioned touch that made Altitude membership so expensive. He was a constant fixture of the club, practically an institution himself by now—always at the elevator wearing white gloves and a green jacket and a warm, crinkly smile.

      Jeffrey moved aside, and Leda walked into the enormous brass members-only elevator. The doors closed behind her with a satisfying click as she was whisked up from the 930th floor entrance hall, past the tennis courts and spa treatment rooms to the club’s main floor.

      The Altitude lobby was lined with imposing dark mahogany and portraits of dead members. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the north and west walls. Leda glanced at the various groups gathered near empty fireplaces and clusters of couches, trying to seem nonchalant as she searched for Atlas. If this so-called “Nadia” person was right, his squash game should be ending right about now.

      She still couldn’t believe she’d posted on that sketchy website. It had been nerve-racking—and yet a little thrilling too, doing something so clearly illegal, and dangerous.

      She’d tried to upgrade her security first, but Leda still couldn’t help wondering if Nadia knew more than he or she was letting on: about who Leda was, and why she was curious about Atlas. Oh well, she thought, none of it really mattered. “Nadia” probably didn’t live in the Tower—probably wasn’t even a girl. And Leda had no intentions of dealing with her, or him, ever again once she’d gotten what she wanted.

      A moment later she saw Atlas walking out of the locker room. He had on a soft blue polo that brought out the caramel-colored strands of his hair, still wet from the shower. Nice work, Nadia. “Atlas,” she said, with what she hoped was the right amount of surprise. “What are you up to?”

      “Just finished a squash match with David York.” He flashed her a smile.

      “Sounds like it’s all back to normal, then,” Leda replied, a little more sarcastically than she’d meant to. She wondered what the Fullers thought about his reappearance, the way he’d just materialized inexplicably at Cord’s party and jumped right back into their lives as if nothing had happened. Then again, they were the ones obsessed with maintaining appearances; this whole illusion of normalcy was probably their idea.

      “About that.” He sighed. “I wish I could explain everything, but it’s complicated.”

      Isn’t it always, with you? “I’m just glad you’re back okay.”

      “Me too,” Atlas said softly, then glanced around the club as if noticing the flow of activity for the first time: kids heading to afternoon tennis lessons and friends meeting up for drinks on the enclosed terrace. “Sorry, were you waiting for someone?”

      “I was on my way to the juice bar,” Leda lied. “Want to come?”

      “You and Avery still drink that liquid spinach?” Atlas laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll pass, thanks. Wanna do the Grill instead?”

      “I guess I have time,” Leda said casually, though this was exactly the kind of thing she’d been hoping for.

      They headed across the lobby to Altitude’s casual grill and grabbed a table near the back, next to the window. Even though she loved the view here, Leda took the seat that faced away from the flexiglass so she could look out over the restaurant. She liked keeping track of everyone coming and going.

      “I haven’t been here in ages,” Leda admitted as they settled in. She thought suddenly of middle school, before her family had gotten into the club, when she always spent the night at Avery’s and then came to Saturday brunch here with the Fullers. She and Avery would pile their plates with egg whites and lemon cakes and try to sneak sips from the mimosa fountain, while Atlas rolled his eyes at their antics and messaged his friends.

      “Yeah, me neither,” Atlas said, then laughed. “Obviously.”

      Drew, who’d been the waiter at the Grill since Leda could remember, walked up to their table. “Miss Cole. And Mr. Fuller! We’re all so glad you’re back.”

      “Glad to be back.” Atlas smiled.

      “Can I get you two something to drink?”

      “I’d love a beer, actually,” Atlas said, and Drew winked; Atlas had recently turned eighteen, so he was legal, but Drew had been sneaking them drinks for years now.

      “Iced tea would be great, thanks,” Leda murmured.

      “What, no whiskeycream?” Atlas quipped as Drew walked away.

      “You know that’s an Andes-only drink.” Leda tried to play it cool, but her heart was racing. What was he doing, referencing that?

      “Thanks, by the way, for the other night,” Atlas went on. Leda hesitated. “About Avery,” he clarified. “You were right, she was really drunk. I ended up taking her home after that game of Spinners.”

      “Oh. Sure,” Leda agreed, hiding her confusion. She’d just made that up in order to keep from playing Spinners. She was surprised, actually, to learn that it had been true; Avery wasn’t usually the girl who needed to be taken home. She hoped everything was okay.

      “Anyway.” He grinned, and Leda felt that rush again, of being the focus of Atlas’s attention. It was a frighteningly addictive sensation. “I’m so out of the loop. Tell me everything I’ve missed this year.”

      She saw what he was doing, deflecting attention away from himself, from questions about where he’d been. Well, she could play along.

      “I’m sure you’ve heard about Eris and Cord,” Leda began, taking a quick breath to steady herself. She tried to mentally recite a meditation chant, but none came to mind. “Did you hear about Anandra, though?”

      The conversation meandered. Leda told him about Anandra Khemka’s stealing СКАЧАТЬ