“Why? He wasn’t a thief, he was an actor.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Really?” Straightening my spine, my eyes bulge.

“It’s not my secret to tell.” He laughs. “But mostly it’s because Disconnects only watch film, so we’re stuck with a lot of old movies.”

“Well, I’ve always loved old movies. They were so much more fun when all they did was tell a story instead of being a virtual-life experience. I like really old ones, like The Goonies. My parents were so afraid one public misstep would ruin my chances of becoming an Influencer when I grew up, they kept me under lock and key. Movies were practically my only friends. It was a good thing my dad had a massive collection of them.” For once, my Maker cover story aligns with the truth, and I’m glad I get to share a little bit of the real me.

“It sounds like you were always meant to be one of us.”

“Maybe.” Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I smile.

“We have the original The Goonies here in the Vault, you know. We should watch it sometime.”

“I’d like that.” For a moment, I dare to believe in the possibility of real friendship.

“Hold on a second. Question. Have you ever seen Jerry Maguire?”

“Yes. My dad worshipped classic actors like Tom Cruise, so I’ve seen all his films.”

“Cool. Okay. What’s the famous line from that movie?”

I don’t have to think about it. “‘You had me at hello’?”

“The other one.”

“‘Show me the money’?”

“Correct. Good. You’re one of us. Just checking.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Most people believe the line is ‘Show me the currency.’”

“No, it’s not.” My jaw drops. “No way. That movie came out before there was a world currency! Before the new era when the world became one nation and we marked the change by adding letters to our years. It was, like, 1996.”

“Exactly—but try finding a copy that still says ‘money.’ You can’t, outside the Vault or your dad’s collection, apparently. We have the original. We know the truth, but that’s one way the Corporates are changing history as part of the plan to get everyone to enter the Simulation. It seems like no big deal, but eventually people will forget there ever was something called ‘money.’” Standing, he drags me to my feet. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?” I follow close behind him, crouching as the ceiling slopes.

“To the Bodleian. It’s in the oldest wing of the Vault, but it’s not far.”

It’s nearly pitch-black, and he lights lanterns as we go. I cling to the hem of his shirt so I don’t lose him. “Stewart, are your parents legacies?”