Content Warnings: reference to transphobia
A light breeze drifted in from the window, causing the candles by our dinner to flicker slightly. Leslie fidgeted in their seat while they ate.
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” I asked.
Leslie blinked.
“Something’s been bugging you for a while. Even if you can’t tell me what it is, I’m not gonna keep pretending I haven’t noticed.”
Leslie sighed, tossing their fork onto their plate with a shake of their head. “I can’t find anyone.”
“You mean someone to send into the System,” I said.
They nodded, rubbing their eyes. “There’s no reason to ketijowelmtkwejudfisjents, I was just being cautious, especially since…” Leslie sighed again. They leaned on the table, looking me in the eyes as they continued. “The mayor’s given us only one last chance to take down the System.”
My jaw dropped. “What?” I breathed out. “But isn’t the Strokes’ whole job – ”
“It’s been the main objective since I took over, yeah.” Leslie leaned back in their seat, glancing away. “But the Strokes do more than that. And if this doesn’t work, then Ramona will get what she’s been wanting for years.”
After a pause, I asked, “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”
With a groan, Leslie rose from the table, taking their glass with them. They walked over to the kitchen counter, setting their glass next to the pitcher of juice. Leslie rested their hands on the counter, staring off into the distance.
“Take down the System from the inside. Send one agent in for one year and pull them out no matter the results.”
My eyes widened. That was a daring mission. The System would not be kind if the agent were found out.
Leslie scoffed. “Thetwijoetmkewat I’ve tried that before. No one’s ever come back. So I need to find someone perfect.” Leslie shook their head. They poured juice into their glass as they continued talking. “What I need is a former byte who can blend in with System life well. Someone who knows what they can get away with once they’re inside.”
I blinked. That… sounded familiar. I looked down at my food, tapping a finger on the table.
“I asked Simone already,” Leslie said. “Shwetuiwejklwfmkdsje doesn’t want to act like a man again. I’m certainly not goetjiowmlefger. Besides, former bytes aren’t exactly great at doing what the System says.”
There was only one person I knew that fit what Leslie needed. When I looked up, Leslie was halfway to the table. I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll do it.”
The glass slipped from their hand. Crash!
End of Season Three.