"Because I'm not driving home naked," were the words Midnight woke up to. Katherine's voice. Idle wasn't in bed. Neither was Katherine.

"I don't see why you have to drive home at all," Idle replied. "You seemed perfectly fine in my bed the other night."

"I've had a long day, I'm emotionally wrung out, I need rest."

"I know how to help you get—"

"I'm not going to walk another three kilometres on a treadmill. I don't have that kind of endurance!"

"Look, corpie—"

"That's just it. My weeklies are tomorrow morning. Every Wednesday I go into the AlterLogic main offices and—"

"Get your good drone programming for another week, I know how it—"

"Then you know I have to be—"

"What if you call in sick?"

"Are you going to write me a doctor's note?"

"You were talking about quitting just—"

"Talking about, Idle. I was talking about it. Making that kind of change to my life after only knowing you for, what, four days, is—"

"Five."

"What?"

"We met Friday night. At Abley's."

"I don't—"

"Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. Five days."

"That's not a significant difference."

"All I'm saying is that you should have all your facts straight before you—"

"Jump off a metaphorical cliff and throw my career in a trashcan?"

"Exactly."

Midnight got up and walked to the computer room. Katherine and Idle were standing there, arguing with one another. Katherine had put her panties on and had her arms crossed, leaning toward Idle, who was naked and gesturing wildly. Both heads turned as she came in.

"Hey there sleepy head," Idle greeted her. "You got any way to convince the corpie here to hang out with us a little longer?"

Midnight shook her head. "I'm not the mind controller in the room, right?"

Katherine laughed. "I have to get home! I have work in the morning, and I need some time to cool off."

Idle jumped back in. "I'm telling you, you could cool off here! Just a few minutes on the—"

"I'm not going for a walk. I'm going home. Maybe, maybe if we could use your chair for—"

"It's all hooked up for tomorrow's match and without my technical support on hand—"

"We could use mine," Midnight suggested.

Both heads turned again. Midnight giggled nervously. "Uh, i-if you don't mind going to—"

"Won't work, sweetie," Idle interrupted. "I have to be here."

Katherine nodded. "And I want to be home. And I won't be able to drive home, then."

"Still..." Idle looked back at the blonde. "You did want to cool off."

"I did," Katherine agreed. "And there's good parking there. I can't drive to work tomorrow anyway, because it's my weeklies."

"We could both get a popcar home from downtown easy enough on a weekday night."

"It almost sounds like we both like that idea."

"Well, it has one big problem," Idle said with a grin.

"What's that?"

"We'd have to get dressed."

Katherine laughed loud. "Why is nudity always your sticking point?"

Idle indicated Midnight with a wave of her hand. "Exhibit A. Notice the beautiful dark skin, those small but perfectly pert breasts with those sharp nipples showing her arousal; the flat, athletic tummy and the tight ass; not to mention the smooth crotch and absolutely fantastic thighs. All things you wouldn't be able to see, if she were wearing clothes."

Midnight flushed. So did Katherine, she noticed.

Idle persisted, stepping close to Midnight and placing her hand on the dancer's stomach. "Even if she were wearing underwear, as you are, it would be that much more challenging to note the exhibit's arousal, like so."

Her fingers dipped. Midnight gasped.

"See? Without that fabric in the way, it's easy to tell that the exhibit is very turned on."

"I think I get it, Idle," Katherine stammered. "I still think we shouldn't drive naked."

"Might be too much of a distraction to the other drivers?" Idle asked with a grin.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. Alright. I'll let you use Midnight's equipment to help me relax and cool off. But no suggestions. Just... let me get dressed."

Idle sighed overdramatically, making Midnight giggle. "I guess. We probably should too." She slapped Midnight's ass cheerfully, and Midnight jumped and marched to the bedroom, where they had disrobed.

Katherine followed them. "I could leave my car here, too. I could come back to get it tomorrow."

"Just leave it in Spin's spot," Idle suggested. "Not like anyone's going to steal it here."

"More likely to do that near my place," Midnight added, gathering her clothes.

"Worst you'd need to worry about is it getting towed in the winter, if you left it on the street."

"And that," Katherine concluded, "isn't a problem right now."

"Thank you, Miss Obvious."

Katherine rolled her eyes at the comment, but Midnight could see her smile. "I'll go get my clothes from the kitchen."

"Oh sure, leave us alone in the bedroom. It's like you want to never get going."

The three of them laughed, and Idle finally moved to get dressed.

Before they left Idle's apartment, Katherine paused and reached into her purse, pulling out Spin's broken phone and pill bottle, and setting them down on the coffee table. "No leads from the tech people, I'm afraid. Whoever wrecked the phone did a thorough job."

"What about from this tech person right here?" Idle asked, pointing at Katherine.

"The recordings on Spin's computer. A little more fruitful. If they're the same as those on the phone, they could be putting that old headset on in their room and if you add a little oneirathol—or a lot of oneirathol, in this case—and..." Katherine shrugged.

"They were dosing themselves then reinforcing their suggestions with recordings?"

Katherine nodded. "That would be my guess. Unless they were in the business of making suggestion reinforcement audio files for other people."

"Anything specific?"

"Unfortunately, no, without delving into every second of every one, they just seemed to be very generic. Other than that phrase that starts everything off."

"'We need to talk about nothing.'"

"That's the one. Maybe they're therapy exercises?"

Idle shrugged. "I've never been in therapy. Yet. Suspect I might need it after this shit."

"Me too," Midnight agreed. "Though, uh, it's not my roommate that's missing, so I dunno."

"But there is something weird going on in your head," Katherine said. "That might mean something. And I bet my family is going to want to put me in therapy if this keeps going."

"If what keeps going?" Idle asked.

"This. All this. A few months ago, Kyle and I split, now suddenly I'm a lesbian, considering leaving my job, solving mysteries, getting involved with the seemier side of Alteration..."

"Hanging around naked with a dancer," Midnight added.

"Getting your brains fucked up on a treadmill," Idle put in.

"Having wild orgies."

"Eating salad. Literally."

They got their shoes on and headed out the door, still chattering and laughing. Idle summoned a popcar, and soon the three of them were on their way to Midnight's apartment. In the joking, none of the three of them noticed that Katherine's purse sat forgotten next to Spin's broken phone.

Katherine gasped as the trio entered Midnight's apartment building.

"Forgot your purse?" Idle asked. "Just noticed it's not on your shoulder."

"That's it exactly." Katherine sighed.

"Need to go back for it? I can call another cab."

Katherine bit her lip, thinking, as they walked up the stairs. "You know what? No. It's all good. You can call me a car when we're done, I can use my computer at home to do the same to get to work tomorrow, and I can just bring a lunch. I'll come over right away after work to get it, will that work?"

"And to celebrate my brainhack victory."

"Well, obviously." Katherine smirked. "You're the best brainhacker I know."

Midnight's apartment was as neat as Katherine remembered it. Everything just in its place. Idle took Katherine by the arm almost immediately and steered her to Midnight's work chair.

"No chance for me to take in the moment, hm?" Katherine said dryly.

"What can I say?" Idle half-apologized. "I want to get in your head."

"In such a hurry." Katherine sat down. In truth, she was excited, too. And off-balance. A little uncomfortable. Something on the desk caught her eye. A business card. "You've got some competition, Idle."

"Whazzat?"

Katherine pointed at the card. "'Benedict King, Freelance Alterist,'" she read.

"Oh!" Midnight said, walking over. "That's my new neighbour. Just setting up downstairs, trying to drum up a little business. Maybe I'll give him a try sometime."

"Trying to make jealous?" Idle asked with a suggestive grin.

"Maybe!" Midnight laughed back.

Katherine smiled at the exchange, then took a deep breath as Idle picked up the card to examine it. "There's..." she hesitated. "Something I want to ask."

Idle paused, looking up and putting the card in her pocket. "Something you want to ask? And Midnight, can you get me a chair?"

"Yeah, right away," Midnight said, making her way to the kitchen.

"Does the something you want to ask have to do with more nudity?"

"Not especially, no," Katherine replied. "But... You can make hallucinations happen with Alterations, right?"

"Of course." Idle sounded curious.

"Can you let me dream about... what... what the future might be? If I... If I left, if I quit, if I kept up with you two, if..."

There was a moment of silence as Midnight brought in a folding chair for Idle to sit on.

"I don't want you to force-feed me any pictures, you understand," Katherine continued. "I just want to... to dream. To fantasize. Free-form."

"I get it," Idle said, and it seemed to Katherine that she was uncharacteristically serious.

"Get my mind in the right place, and let it go where it will."

"I know what you mean." Idle sat in the folding chair at the keyboard.

Katherine started unbuttoning her shirt. "I'm not getting naked," she stressed. "Just comfortable."

"For me, comfortable is naked."

"Well that's great for you." Katherine stood and pushed her skirt to the floor, kicking it gently to the side.

"You sure you don't want to get more comfortable?"

"This is comfortable enough, thanks. Besides, I don't want you losing track of what you're supposed to be doing and decide that you want to continue the fun from the other night."

"You think you're that irresistible?"

"You think I'm not?"

Idle grinned. "I'll concede the point, corpie. Put on the bike helmet, let's get this underway."

Warm.

Warm in and out.

Through and through.

Drifting through warmth.

It was just warmth, first, but...

There was a form and structure to it.

It was a warmth of dreams, of emotions.

It wasn't a temperature at all, it was a feeling.

Katherine opened her eyes to the patterns on the visor in front of her reminding her to close her eyes.

Katherine opened her eyes to the patterns on the visor in front of her reminding her to close her eyes.

Katherine opened her eyes, but not really. But she could see, but not really.

She could see warmth.

Midnight.

That was the warmth. Clear as day.

Midnight, and Idle, both.

Saying goodbye to her as her day began.

Greeting her at the door as she returned home.

Sitting down to dinner together.

Watching a movie.

Playing a board game.

Making love.

She knew she moaned. She knew Idle must have heard her. Midnight, too, sitting in her little broken down chair by the television.

She trusted Idle didn't break her promise. She opened her eyes to the patterns on the visor in front of her reminding her to close her eyes.

The scene was different.

She was Altering someone. Someone she didn't know, didn't recognize. Some faceless person. Her imagination wouldn't give her a face to work with.

She was sitting by them, talking. Helping. Fixing them. Healing them. Curing whatever was troubling them. Making them—no, helping them to make themselves better. Therapy.

It was warm.

So warm.

And returning home exhausted to four waiting arms, four lovely eyes...

She opened her eyes to the patterns on the visor in front of her reminding her to close her eyes.

Through the visor, she could see Idle.

She could see warmth.

She would think more about it in the morning.

The patterns on the visor reminded her to close her eyes.

Warm.

Warm in and out.

Drifting through warmth.

Drifting,

drifting...

"Psst. Corpie." Idle whispered.

She looked over at Midnight. Then back at Tailor.

The two of them were asleep.

She checked the readout. Tailor was definitely asleep, not in trance. The system was on hold, waiting for input from the subject so that it could bring Tailor gently out of the Altered state when she woke.

Idle checked the time. She had to be getting home. She needed her rest, needed to be at her best to challenge nVizzible.

Well, one night in an office chair won't kill you. Though your back might be unhappy in the morning.

Idle very carefully gathered up her belongings, quietly slipped her shoes on, and headed down to the main floor, calling for a popcar on the way. Midnight would get her home, or to work, in the morning.

Idle arrived home, went upstairs.

The apartment was empty, but there was Spin's broken phone right there on the table to remind her of what was missing. And Tailor's forgotten purse to remind her of what might be. Strangely, she didn't feel at odds with herself about staying alone. Midnight and Tailor really had buoyed her spirits, given her so much to look forward to, so much hope. Even if Spin was...

Idle sat in her own comfortable armchair and thought about what they'd learned. It was an awful lot to take in for five days' worth of drama.

Part of her wanted to go over to Spin's computer and read the letter that they had written for her, the one which Tailor had taken the effort to transcribe and clean out all the hypnotic language. Just let Spin's words wash over her and let go. Take up with Midnight, live and love and laugh and forget about the person who had been her roommate and her friend since...

And her coach since.

And her substitute family since.

It... seemed almost worse, to forget. It was better to worry. Better to be upset, to be angry, to remember and cry. Or it would be, but the idea of getting emotionally tied up in knots just felt exhausting. And so she didn't.

She just... didn't get upset. Or angry. Just didn't.

She wasn't sure that she knew how to get upset about it. She thought about that for a moment. She didn't really know the process for getting upset in general, but it didn't mean that she couldn't. Thinking about officer Grant and the way he'd dismissed her proved that. But thinking about Spin...

Nothing.

It didn't make sense. It just didn't.

The brain is such a fucked up thing, Idle thought to herself, and Spin knows how to fuck it up even more.

What she'd told Tailor the night before, about how much she didn't want to be alone in the apartment, it wasn't a lie. Maybe a touch of an exaggeration. Still, the apartment felt very big, and Idle felt very small in it. She wandered into the computer room, unsure of why. She felt directionless, aimless. She ran her hands over her brainhacking chair, looking for some kind of comfort, and thought about her upcoming match.

She'd been too preoccupied since the last match. Midnight. The search for Spin. Tailor. She had a match in the morning and she'd done no preparation. And without her roommate, her rock, to keep her on track, she had no focus, even for the things most important to her. Not that Midnight and Tailor weren't important, they were. Especially Midnight. And the mystery, that was important, too.

That was the problem, Idle decided. There was too much that was important, all of a sudden. One week ago, she was worried about one thing: her upcoming match with Anonyma. Now there was a whole list of things she had to concern herself with. Not to mention the things that Spin used to handle that she hadn't even considered yet, the list of which was itself another thing that she had to think about, let alone all the items on that list.

"Fuck."

It wasn't like she'd forgotten Spin, or all their time spent together. And she didn't expect to. But she couldn't seem to access emotions that should go with those memories.

She started to consider what forgetting Spin would do to her life. There would be far too many holes in her history. Little of her present would make sense. Spin clearly made the right decision. Which made sense, Spin was an expert Alterist, and they had been even before they had been accredited. They had an almost supernatural understanding of the way the mind worked, they had made it their entire focus from the moment Idle brought the idea of learning Alteration to them.

Despite that...

Despite that, it felt easy. Not so much to forget, but just to move on. Midnight apparently already had, but Midnight hadn't lived with them for years, just known them as a social media manager, and apparently as a dental anaesthetist.

Anaesthesia felt like the right answer. Numbness. Lack of art. Lack of energy. Lack of feeling, of awareness. When she'd had her appendix removed, it wasn't like she'd forgotten about her stomach, but there had just been no sensation there, even as the doctor made her incision. She'd been too young to be Altered, then; they'd used more traditional poisons to get the job done. The child brain wasn't developed enough. It wasn't until the mid-teens, sometime during puberty, that the necessary pieces of the puzzle fell into place to make the process workable for more than a few minutes, and then it became more and more viable as a subject aged. Peak suggestibility, according to studies, fell between twenty and forty for most people, after which some of those needed paths began to resist modification. For children, the mind was too flighty, too difficult to pin down; in older folk, the challenge was more in convincing the mind to be more flighty.

That was something Spin had studied. How to create more effective Alteration in children. The answer was, simply, that it was impossible, given current methods. And certainly nearly two decades ago they didn't have the first clue, so... a little injection. A small prick. Hardly noticed against the pain of the inflammation and the headache and fever and burning throat. And then she lay back and closed her eyes, and she felt the surgeons warm touch on her belly, felt her mother's hand in her own, felt... something... happening... and eventually she got bored and tired and fell asleep.

That's what she felt like doing now. Being bored and tired and falling asleep. Thinking about Spin made her numb, made her want to be numb. Her match tomorrow precluded the use of Alterations or substances to make that happen, but sinking into Spin's Alteration-induced sense of nothingness seemed very possible and maybe inevitable.

And that's when Midnight filled the void.

The general lack of emotion brought on by thoughts of her roommate was contrasted powerfully by the flood of sentiment that nearly bowled her over, thinking about the lithe dancer. Joy, happiness, arousal, giddiness... Infatuation, certainly, and maybe even love. Even if it was way too soon for that kind of talk, it was there. The word was there, on the edge of Idle's mind, and there was only one real explanation for that.

Thinking about that explanation brought numbness, followed by the flood of Midnight again.

What a perfect name for her, too, Idle thought as she slipped out of the computer room and headed towards her bed, stripping as she went. Midnight. Warm, inviting darkness. Covering everything. Full of stars and light in unexpected places, and mystical and quiet and secretive. She grinned as her underwear hit the floor. Okay, maybe not secretive.

Midnight had been anything but secretive. The girl had depth, she wasn't shallow, but she had no compunction about sharing those depths. Idle flopped into bed, thinking about their first night together, about how Midnight had taken her shirt off on the sidewalk, how she had stripped down on the treadmill before even being hypnotized. Even with Tailor, who she hadn't been Altered into adoring, Midnight had been unabashedly truthful. Idle suspected that that was one of the things that had helped the corpie open up and relax.

No, Midnight wasn't one to hide things. Her devotion was complete.

Idle closed her eyes and swam into the numbness, letting her love for Midnight swirl up from the depths and engulf her as she fell asleep.

The tea had tasted strange.

The hiss in her ears reminded her of the tea.

The lights in her eyes reminded her of the hiss.

The memory of the strange taste reminded her of the lights.

And the words she couldn't hear sent her deeper and deeper into the spiral.

She was tired. Her body was tired. Her brain was positively exhausted.

And there were so many words. Worlds of words. The thought made her giggle. So many words that they made up a whole universe. A whole universe made up only of words. It was inspiring. She imagined trying to read them. They told a story. A long story. Dark and deep.

Dark and deep. The story reminded her of the tea.

She'd done it.

Midnight grinned, adjusting a slider on the program.

She'd done it. With her second-rate equipment, and a little help.

She yawned happily. Katherine's eyes looked through her, or maybe Katherine's gaze didn't reach her, with the pretty lights in the trace from the helmet in front of her being so perfect, so dazzling, so easy to get lost in...

Midnight blinked, stepped back, looked away. She'd seen those lights too often, from the other side. They were starting to affect her even now. Probably her own tiredness.

She considered the tea, then shook her head. That would probably only make things worse. Caffeine or not, the extra additives probably wouldn't play well with those lights. Or maybe would play too well with them.

She answered the knock at the door she had known would be coming. Her guest walked in, assessed the situation, as Midnight locked up.

"Perfect," the guest said, giving Midnight a thrill at the compliment. As directed, the dancer sat down in her armchair and relaxed, letting the guest have the spare by the computer.

She loved watching people be Altered. It was so much fun. And Katherine would be so much happier to be a full part of everything.

The move had been worth it. Hadn't been cheap, but it had been worth it. Saving up. Waiting for the right apartment to open up. Leaving behind a job. Looking for the perfect opportunity to execute.

Ben had been taunted for months. Tormented. He wanted to be a part of something bigger, wanted to be a great brainhacker, and there was only one camp that he wanted to be a part of. But they didn't want him. He wasn't man enough for them. Direct quote. He was called a pussy. A cunt. Girl. If he wasn't a man, he was obviously a woman, and women weren't meant to be brainhackers, no matter what OhAnnaJ said about it.

It wasn't Anna that he was interested in, anyway. Caden Collier's philosophy spoke to him. Brainhacking matches were won or lost before anyone put an Alteration headset on. And he'd set up the perfect scenario to win his first significant match.

And then the wild card had showed up.

He looked at the beautiful woman in the computer chair, with half-lidded, unfocused eyes darting about in a mockery of REM sleep, dreaming the dreams that he and his thrall had spoken into her mind.

"Months of work," he muttered, careful not to be overheard by the entranced analyst or the sleeping dancer, curled up in the old chair across the studio apartment. "And you nearly ruined it all." He looked over at Midnight. "Fortunately, I am highly adaptable. And after tomorrow, it won't matter. You will just be one more piece of evidence of my absolute superiority."

He had ambition. Acceptance into the crowd was just the start. The simpering dickwads that used to follow Collier around didn't have a leader, not a leader with any sort of actual impact anymore. Caden had been castrated. He had a lifetime ban from brainhacking. He wasn't suited to lead a group of brainhackers when he couldn't play the game himself. No, Collier's boys needed real leadership, someone who could guide them in the right way, show them how the game really worked.

Ben wanted to be that guide. Would be that guide.

Caden was a good brainhacker, a good Alterist, but he didn't understand people, not the way Ben did. That much was clear. Ben would have won that fight, won fair, not pushed his opponent to the point of having a disconnect. Caden couldn't see, couldn't understand how he was being goaded. Most people couldn't see it. But Ben saw it in real time, watched him be fooled into taking the loss.

Caden needed control, and lost his position when he didn't have control. Ben had control. Ben had spent a lot of time building control. Control of himself, control of others.

And after his morning's match, he would have proof that he could do what he'd said. He'd have beaten a strong candidate for professional brainhack, and he'd have a professional Alterist under his thumb.

Then Ben would claim Caden's position. And from there, reclaim brainhacking for its rightful owners.

There was a text message on her phone when she woke up, from Tebby Dare, asking her to give him a call before the match. There was lots of time for it, she had at least an hour.

"Hey Idle."

"Hi Tebby, what's up? Any news?"

"We can't find anything about Spin, except that a lot of people are worried that they're missing."

"And the new guy?"

Tebby let air through his lips with a sigh, making a rattling noise. "nVizzible. Well. Someone with a similar enough name—"Captain Unseen"—popped up on the Collier forums a couple months ago, caught the usual bullshit hazing, flamed out. He was claiming that he knew Caden's secrets and followed his philosophy, and wanted to help the community grow in a new direction. They laughed at him until he left, and in the usual way of things in those sorts of brain-dead spaces, they're still laughing about him. Some of them think that nVizzible might be Captain Unseen, just because of the name."

"Well that's just fucking special, isn't it. No confirmation?"

"Not from there, their hackers don't seem to be too interested in finding out. But it gets better."

"I don't see how that—"

"Captain Unseen was doxxed."

"Fuck, of course he was, they're—"

"Your area code."

There was a pause.

"What?" Idle asked.

"Captain Unseen has the same area code as you."

"Fuck. So..." Idle quickly ran through the possibilities, and came up with only one: This 'Captain Unseen,' who might well be nVizzible, who might be deeply connected to all this mess, was local. She supposed he might have been somewhere else in the province, but there wasn't really much of a scene anywhere else, and if you want to be good at the game, you need to be able to have matches both in person and online. He had to be close, or he had to be visiting often.

"Same as Spin, too, I found the post where they got doxxed."

"Shit, Spin was... Christ."

"Uh huh. They didn't tell you?"

Idle couldn't think of anything to say.

"You know the sort of shit that Caden's boys put people through," Tebby continued. "Spin didn't—"

"They fucking did not," Idle replied, succeeding, with some serious effort, to find some anger for her friend's actions. It needed her to shift her thinking, to realize that she had been in danger herself because of her roommate's silence on the matter, to actually get to fury.

"You okay?"

Idle realized she hadn't spoken in a few moments. She took a deep breath. "No. No, but I will be. I have a match. I have to be fine, at least for that."

She could almost hear Tebby nodding. "Time for anger after?"

"Oh you better fuckin' believe it, Tebby."

A mirthless chuckle drifted from the phone speaker. "Beat the new kid. Beat him good. We'll sort all this out in the aftermath."

"Yeah."

"If he is a Caden stan, or an attempted Caden stan, flatten him and show them all what's what."

"Not sure that that's gonna do it. We don't even know that they're the same..."

She thought about a business card, in the pocket of her discarded pants, and wondered.

"Idle?"

The brainhacker again noticed the silence that came with her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"I'm gonna have to—"

"You do what you need to. I want a shower and some more time to think."

"Break a leg."

"You t—uh, thanks, Tebby, I'll do my best."

She could hear the other Alterist's chuckle as he hung up.