“Edam?” his mum knocked on the door, “Are you up?”

He stayed silent under the covers until her footsteps retreated down the staircase and the front door slammed. Dad had already left for work. He wouldn’t be back until late at night, same as her. Shitty hours for sure, but at least that meant Edam could sneak out easier. After last night’s heist, he had climbed the pipe by his window and collapsed into bed, listening to the pounding of his heart. Sleep had never shown up.

Edam slipped out of the covers and made his way to the bathroom, where he splashed some water on his face. The mirror over the sink hummed quietly.

“Good morning, Mirage.” he said, activating the mirror’s more advanced properties. A robotic voice returned his greeting,

“Good morning, Edam. If you would like to test your health today, please place your hand flat on the mirror.”

He did so, and various stats appeared on the mirror’s surface. Heart rate, body temperature, how tired he was, how much he had eaten or drunk in the past 24 hours and so on. Edam skimmed over them.

“You need more sleep, Edam. Have you considered taking a nap?”

“Sure have.”

“You need more calories, Edam. Have you considered having a meal?”

“Thank you, Mirage.” Edam said, and the mirror’s display disappeared. Speaking to the mirror had been a morning ritual for as long as he could remember. It was comforting to have someone (or something, in this case) to say good morning to. Of course, his parents didn’t share that sentiment.

After brushing his teeth, Edam made his way downstairs, grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned on the TV. A beam of light shot from the wall, forming a large rectangle that gradually became more solid. An image of a house on fire became visible. The headline below read: ELDERLY COUPLE DIE IN HOUSE FIRE.

Edam flicked through the various news channels, all of them reporting on commonplace incidents. Fires, lynchings, murders… but nothing about the break-in last night. Given the importance of the object stolen, it would make for sensational news. Either they hadn’t gotten hold of the story, or, more likely, the military didn’t want to be humiliated so publicly.

His tablet pinged in his pocket, and he pulled it out. In its compact form, it was no more than two cylinders pressed together. When he pulled them apart, a screen unravelled between them, like a scroll.

Saavi had sent him a text: Work’s nearly done. Do you want to come over? Couldn’t have done it without you, after all.

He stared at the text for a long time. She must have stayed up all night working on… whatever she was working on. What if he had made a mistake? Helped her create something terrible?

Either way, it was best to find out now. She would complete it with or without him.

He pulled on his pants. Sure. What’s the address?

*

Edam hadn’t recognised the address, and now, as he approached the street, he knew why. Young men lurked in shadowy back alleys. Stray cans of beer and bottles of alcohol rolled towards his feet. Children peeked out of the windows of cramped houses, or played in the street with hoverboards long overdue for a repair. One mother pulled her child away as she saw Edam approaching. Neon signs advertising housing, drugs, sex, or all of the above flickered weakly, in an attempt to distract from the dirt and grime. The smell was something unique - that of fried electronics, piss and sweat.

He’d always known what the protests were about, but he’d never set foot in one of the slums himself. These were hardworking people, and the Government had screwed them over. Just like they'd screwed most of the city. But what could they do?

Edam checked the address again, a little wary of taking out his high-tech tablet. The address was supposedly just up ahead, which meant that Saavi’s ‘house’ was the bungalow at the end of the street. The one that had half-boarded up windows, paint peeling off the walls and looked like the kind of place druggies gathered to get high. But then again, that could be said for the whole street.

He tapped the wooden door of the bungalow with his knuckles. Saavi opened it immediately, wearing a white crop top and a metal face shield pushed up to her head. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

“You look… nice,” he muttered, as she closed the door behind him.

“You look nice, too.” she said, walking through a doorway on their right. The inside of the bungalow was unfurnished, unless you counted the cobwebs. He followed.

“You do live here, right?”

“No, I just spend my weekends here.” She rolled her eyes, “Come on, hackerboy. In there.” she nodded to a door. Edam opened it to reveal a staircase that descended into darkness. Saavi took the lead as he hesitated at the door, and a light came on above them. It looked like there were at least three or four more flights of stairs below them, zigzagging deep underground. The lights responded to their movement - each time the light before them turned on, the one behind would go out.

At the base of the stairs was a closed door with a screen next to it - a biometric hand scanner.

“That old thing?” Edam smirked, as Saavi pressed her hand flat against the scanner.

“Yes.”

“I could hack that, you know.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll hack it right now.”

She flashed him a smile as gears whirred and the door opened. They stepped into a large room with high ceilings and white tiles. On their right was the living room - or living area, since it had no walls - on the left, a kitchen with a marble counter. A block jutted out of the wall on each side after that, in what he assumed were the bedrooms. The ceiling was made of lights, making the whole room shine. Edam knocked on one of the walls, raising his eyebrows.

“So you live here.”

“Yep. Sorry about upstairs.”

Edam looked over the room again, “Where’s the… suit? If you wanna tell me you were just joking, I wouldn’t be mad at you.”

“I’m afraid not.” She strode over to the far side of the room, placed one finger on the wall and drew a pointed symbol. The wall began to melt, then shimmer, until it was replaced by a door. Edam’s jaw dropped.

“Could you hack that?” Saavi smirked.

“Maybe...?”

The door was several inches of metal thick, and Saavi had to use both arms to pull it open. She nodded at him, “Go on. Take a look inside.” He did so.

The temperature jumped a few degrees. Most of the room was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of holographic screens and a spotlight pointed at the centre of the room. The suit gleamed under the harsh glare. It hovered over a slab of metal on the ground, held up my magnetic force. The arms and legs were spread wide, showing off the various interlocking mechanisms that made up its humanoid exterior. He could only imagine what was going on beneath the surface. Slim, muscular, and about the same height as he was, it was designed to perfectly fit Saavi’s body.

“You must be Edam,” a man typing at a computer said, glancing at him. Saavi had mentioned an uncle once, and judging by the tan skin and grey beard, this was the man. “Pleasure.”

“Same here, Mr-” it only just occurred to him that he didn’t know Saavi’s last name. Her uncle gave him an odd look,

“Varma.”

“Mr Varma.” Edam finished, and Saavi punched him on the shoulder, laughing. She nodded towards the suit,

“What do you think?”

“It’s… amazing,” he said, running a hand over the smooth metal surface, “How’d you pay for all this?”

“My parents left me some money.”

“Some money? That’s a fortune! What did they do again?”

“My dad was a construction worker and my mum was a receptionist.” she shrugged, “I suppose they were careful about what they spent it on.”

“I guess,” Edam said, looking around the room once again - the high ceiling, the overhead lights, the various floating screens, and, of course, the intricately detailed suit before him. “So… is it done?”

“Nearly. Just have to put this,” Saavi picked up a glowing metal cylinder, “in here.” she walked around the podium and gestured to her uncle.

The metal plates in the suit’s back shifted, rotating to form a round aperture. Saavi slotted the cylinder inside and twisted it. The suit began to hum.

“Was that…” Edam started, remembering how the energy-source had glowed on Dr Ebert’s desk.

“Yep.”

The lines that separated the metal plates began to burn bright. The eyes of the suit were glowing now, slanted and diamond-shaped. Two streaks of white light ran upwards along the torso, meeting at a point below the chest.

“What do you say, Saavi?” Mr Varma said, ready at the control panel.

She nodded, “Give it a shot.”

The suit began to move.

It raised its head, turning to look at them. Edam stared at the glowing eyes. It seemed so… inhuman. Wrong.

And then the suit started to smoke.

It trembled, becoming limp again, aside from the occasional twitch. Mr Varma cursed, typing in a command. The suit became still and the light faded from its eyes. “Overloaded the capacitors. You need to modify that power-source of yours.”

Saavi grinned, “Of course, that was just a test-run. I’ll work out the kinks tonight. Should take about a day.”

“If you don’t eat, drink and sleep, then it is possible.”

“My plans exactly, Aarav.”

He looked from Saavi to her uncle and back again, “Wait, what do you plan to do with this thing, again?”

Saavi smiled, “Nothing major. Just some investigating.”

“Uh… can we take a walk?”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

*

They picked a bench out on the far side of the park, away from where a gang of teenagers huddled together, talking in low voices. The bench overlooked a lake - one where the water had long turned green, and the only things that moved were various pieces of floating garbage. The strong wind stripped away most of the stench, but Edam caught a waft of it now and then. It made him breathe through his mouth.

“Aarav says this park used to be beautiful,” Saavi started, “blue water. Ducks and geese. Young couples strolling around the lake.” she kicked a discarded water bottle, “And then at some point, people just stopped caring.”

Edam nodded, “I guess they had other things on their mind. Whole city went to shit after he won the election.”

“But it’s not irreversible. We can still clean the water. Pick up the litter and fertilise the grass. Bring the ducks back.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“Someone has to do it.”

“Why you?”

Saavi met his eyes, “Because no one else will. And I have nothing to lose.”

Edam sighed, shaking his head, “How do you… where do you even start with something like that?”

“I’ll start with the police force. Too many crimes are going unpunished, too many are punished for no reason. I’ll give them something to be afraid of. And at the same time, I’ll find out exactly what happened the night my parents died.”

Edam resisted the urge to recoil. There was a fire burning in Saavi’s eyes, a fire he’d only seen when Dr Ebert had pointed a shotgun at them. No matter what he said, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put that fire out. Not completely.

“Just… be careful, is all I’m saying.”

The fire faded.

Saavi laughed, putting him in a headlock, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think my climbing-buddy is becoming fond of me.”

He wriggled out of it, pushing her away, “Get outta here. Adrenaline junkies are people to avoid. They’ll do anything for sport.”

“True. But, be honest, are any of your university friends this exciting?”

“Most of them aren’t looking for a criminal record.”

Saavi sighed, “One day you’ll thank me for what I gave you.”

“A few broken bones?”

She smiled, getting up, “I should head back and finish work on the suit. Be careful on your way home.”

“Yep,” he said, watching the wind tug at her black hair. In the couple of months they’d known each other, this had to be one of the longest conversations they’d had. Otherwise, Saavi was a girl of few words. But he supposed certain experiences - such as robbing a house - were bound to bring people together.

He watched her leave, wondering if she would take any of his advice. Probably not. She was the kind of person who always did what they thought best.

And that was exactly why he worried about her.