Their little team huddle was not the productive strategy meeting that Jeremy had geared up for. Rich had been uncooperative, acting openly suspicious at Jeremy's sudden allegiance for the human cause, while Michael had been distractible and lacking in any of the huge world-saving ideas that Jeremy had expected him to whip out.

"Fine," Jeremy said, frustrated after a long and inefficient conversation. "What do you think we should do going forward?"

"One of my mom's birthdays is coming up and I think Things Remembered has a sale," Michael offered.

Rich wadded up his dirty napkin and tossed it overhand into the trash. "There's a boba place downstairs that's pretty good."

Jeremy pinched the bridge of their nose. "Is this opposite land? Did I go through the looking glass at some point? Since when am I the one who's apocalypse-prepping against SQUIPs?"

Rich's face was unreadable. "Look," he said reluctantly. "We already knew that SQUIPs existed outside our high school. Mine got shut off because I got lucky. Most people aren't."

"Lucky," Jeremy repeated skeptically, eyes roving over Rich's numerous burn scars.

"Yeah. Lucky," Rich said. "'Cuz I'm not in a mental hospital right now and I'm putting my life back together without any voices echoing around in my head or going full SQUIP, which is more than you can say, Heere."

"It's fucked up that Spencer got taken," Michael said. "And that he tried to SQUIP me, I mean, what the fuck. But we're not dealing with a zombie army right now. We can't just fight through 'em and give them the anti-zombie serum like we did at the play. It's not something we can fix right now." Jeremy must have looked freaked out, since Michael reached over the table and squeezed their hand. "I promise, Jeremy," he added quietly, "I'll pull out all the stops. I'll do a couple all-nighters looking for Mountain Dew Red online, I'll talk to my Warcraft buddies who got SQUIPped before. We'll figure this out before everything goes to shit."

That was a start but it wasn't enough. Jeremy looked Michael in the eyes and straightened his back. "You're not going to eat or drink anything that hasn't been factory-sealed from here on out, Michael," they said firmly.

Michael dropped their hand, confused at being commanded. "Wha-"

"If Spencer can lace your drink with SQUIPs, so could that lady at Sbarro's," Jeremy said, gesturing behind them. "Or the grocery store clerk, or a classmate getting you a water cup. Even an ounce of Mountain Dew mixed in with another substance could trigger a SQUIP's start-up procedure. It could be in your hot lunch! Your slushie! Your pot brownies!"

"He's got the spirit, at least," Rich said to Michael, but it was more of a joke than agreement.

Michael waved his hands. "Oh, hell no, I am not quitting junk food! The whole reason I wanna survive the apocalypse is so I can enjoy my slushies and pot in peace!"

Jeremy clamped down on the anger that was building up behind their sternum. They schooled their voice to be cool, persuasive, detached. "It's not a joking matter, and I'm not being irrational. Consider this: If I gave you a slushie right now and told you it had Mountain Dew and a SQUIP in it, would you drink it?"

"Of course not-"

"What if I told you it might have a SQUIP in it, that the odds were 50/50? Would you drink it then?"

Michael slumped over. "No…"

"How low do the odds need to be for you to feel comfortable with the possibility of being SQUIPped?" Jeremy realized they were leaning forward in their chair and settled back, crossing their arms. "Thirty percent? Ten percent? Five?"

"I get it, I get it," Michael said. "But you've got that chemical analysis thing. Couldn't you just take a sip or a bite of something and tell us if it's got Mountain Dew in it?"

"I could," Jeremy said thoughtfully. "It'd be a pain in the ass, and not foolproof if someone was deliberately giving you a SQUIP and then planning to activate it later on, but I'd be willing to do it. Especially if the alternative is risking you getting SQUIPped too."

"But you'd be trusting Siri here to tell you the truth about it," Rich said. "You don't expect me to do all this paranoid shit too, do you?"

"Of course not," Jeremy said, waving their hand dismissively. "I don't care if you get SQUIPped."

"Jeremy!" Michael said disapprovingly and Jeremy flinched.

"I wasn't being serious," Jeremy said woodenly, like a child being instructed to apologize after pushing someone off the slide. "You're an asset, Rich. I can implement the same safety measures for you-"

"Save the bullshit, I don't care," Rich said. "Live fast, die young, fuckin' yolo. I'm eating whatever I want."

"You're okay with getting SQUIPped again?" Michael said, astonished, turning to face Rich.

"Of course not." Rich wasn't looking either of them in the eyes. His hands were shoved under his arms like he was trying to force himself not to pick at the scars. "But look at me. Do you really think I'm the one guy who's gonna survive a robot apocalypse? Nah, I was patient fucking zero. If that thing tries to invade again, I'm gonna fight her. Obviously. Like I should have been fighting her all along. But once it's in you…" Rich dropped any pretense of sounding cool and aloof. "There's no going back. So I know what the SQUIP would haveta do. She'd haveta take me over completely."

"I thought that's what it already did the first time," Michael said.

Jeremy knew what Rich meant, though. "It wouldn't be able to control your behavior through manipulation or stimulation anymore. You wouldn't cooperate at all. Your SQUIP would be forced to take control of your body and mute your higher cognitive functions whenever it could."

"Yeah." Rich gave a humorless smile. "Even when I was playing nice with her, she still had to do that sometimes. Now that I got a taste of freedom? I'm not making life easy for her ever again. So yeah," Rich stared across the food court at nothing in particular. "I'd be basically brain dead most of the time, I bet."

"I want to say a SQUIP would never go to that kind of length to control its host," Jeremy said unenthusiastically. "But a SQUIP that's part of a social network is different. In order to keep the social ecosystem operating at maximum efficiency, some individual differences need to be glossed over." They looked at Michael. "That's why the SQUIPped people at the school play were acting like 'zombies,' Michael. It wasn't efficient any more to give users the long-term behavioral conditioning that Rich and Jeremy got."

"So!" Rich stood up and stretched. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Right? Fuck, I don't wanna think about this heavy shit anymore. That boba tea is screaming my name almost as loud as your mom did last night, Heere." He left the table as though that sentence was a proper adieu.

Jeremy's brow furrowed as they tried and failed to remember what Jeremy's mother looked like. "She-"

Michael stood too, cutting Jeremy off. "Keep in touch, okay, Rich? We've got your back."

Rich held up a hand, waving as he walked away, though he didn't turn. Jeremy got the impression of a shounen antihero and half-suspected it on purpose.

"He doesn't care if he dies," Jeremy said disbelievingly once Rich was out of earshot.

"I don't really know him well enough to say," Michael said, shifting his weight. "Like, usually I'd say 'ask Jeremy about it,' 'cuz you actually know him better than I do. I don't get that suicidal vibe from him anymore, though? I think he's just sick of letting the SQUIP tell him what to do and eat and stuff, so he's not gonna let it boss him around when it's not even here yet."

"Oh," Jeremy said, their voice trailing away.

Michael thumped his hand on Jeremy's back. It was supposed to be a buck-up gesture but it made Jeremy stumble. "We're doing all we can right now," Michael said. "Try not to worry about it. Now, c'mon. I've got an overpriced Mom-gift to buy."

Jeremy let Michael take them into Things Remembered and listened as he hemmed and hawed between picking the on-sale candle holder and the personalized silver one with filigree that would match the dining room set. Jeremy was mentally playing Space Invaders on their phone and had gotten past level four when Michael triumphantly returned from the counter holding a gift bag.

"Well?" they said, turning off the game.

"Got the fancy one with a coupon," Michael said proudly. Jeremy made a noise of acknowledgment as they left the store. "Hey, are you able to come over tonight?"

"I always have time for you," Jeremy said bluntly.

Michael chuckled, running a hand through his hair and knocking his glasses askew. It was cute, reminding Jeremy of the deliberately-stylishly-messy hair look they spent 20 minutes working on each morning. But this look was natural, which should have been a turn-off because of the imperfections and lack of synchronicity. Why was it charming instead? "Great! I've got something planned." He tapped his nose, but before Jeremy could ask for details, Michael pointed across the aisle from them. "Let's check that place out."

It was hardly a subtle way to change the subject but it worked. Between AT&T and T-Mobile was sandwiched an electronic goods store, generic and bursting with overpriced tech which Michael was jabbing his finger at. "What, you need to buy a charger?"

Michael shrugged as they walked in. "You're the robot whisperer. This seems like a place you'd enjoy."

Jeremy smirked, leaning into Michael's personal bubble. "Starting to get sweet on SQUIPs after all, are you?"

Michael smushed his palm against Jeremy's face, pushing them away. "I'm being a supportive friend by sharing your interests. I'm a good role model."

Jeremy laughed, peeling Michael's hand off and looking around. They took a deep breath and let it out, enjoying the background noise of electronics whirring away. The store may not have been name-brand but most of the products were legit. Phones, computers, speakers, and tablets surrounded them. Even the lights were on a computerized timer system. Jeremy closed their eyes and spread their arms out, basking in the glow of the screens and the humming of brand-new tech.

"Communing with nature?" Michael asked wryly.

"You're the one who brought me here," Jeremy said, cracking an eye open to peek at Michael.

"Yeah, yeah," Michael said. "Pick out something under thirty bucks that looks fun."

Jeremy said, "It's your mom's birthday, not mine."

"I just saved twenty-five bucks on soda and I'm feeling nice," Michael said. "You wanna push it?"

Jeremy smiled and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The two of them spent about twenty minutes in the store fiddling with different gadgets and gizmos, with Michael particularly entranced by an impressive stereo system, but Jeremy forgot about all their other potential purchases when they spotted the wireless chargers. Michael dared them to put their hand on it to charge themselves. Jeremy did and giggled. "Kinda tickles," they admitted.

"Yeah, but are you charging?" Michael asked.

"I'd have to do this for a while and see. Maybe?"

"Oh! Oh!" Michael said, picking up another pad. "This one's 'lightning fast,' try this one!"

Jeremy gamely put his hands on top of the round black pad and laughed. "Shit! This one's way stronger!" They wiggled their fingers, feeling the electricity surge up their arms. "Feels like I just drank a Red Bull."

Michael plucked a box of the lightning chargers off the shelf and sang an "item get" tune. "We found our lucky winner!"

"You're such a nerd!" Jeremy said. They felt like the word should be a genuine insult but it came out too affectionately. They bounced on the balls of their feet. "Hey, hey, go buy that right now."

"I was gonna," Michael said. "Why?"

"I've got an idea. It'll be fun but it miiight get us kicked out of the store." Jeremy put their hands back on the charger for good measure. They'd need energy for what they had in mind.

Michael gave them a thumbs-up and went to pay, returning with the box tucked under his arm and receipt in hand. "So what's your evil plan?"

Jeremy scoped the place out. The store didn't have a huge amount of floorspace but it was adequate for their purposes. There was a handful of other customers milling about, meaning they'd have an audience but only a small one. Jeremy reluctantly pulled their hands away from the charger, flexing their fingers and feeling the energy thrum through their blood at the same frequency as the electrical charge in the air.

Jeremy closed their eyes, getting a feel for each individual computerized piece of tech in the store. Then, at their command, the lights went out.

Employees and customers-including Michael-gasped the way people always do when unexpectedly plunged into darkness. Jeremy snapped their eyes open. They couldn't see, exactly, but they could still feel every tech piece they'd connected to before. They sent a pulse out to test their limits, lighting the room in neon blue for a moment before the room returned to being pitch-black. In between, Jeremy could see flashes of blue outlines of all the computers around them. Eagle Vision. Cool.

"Don't be afraid," Jeremy mouthed. They didn't say the words out loud, but at their mental command the words came out of the speakers simultaneously. It wasn't Jeremy's real voice-it was a heavily modulated synthetic voice. "You have all been chosen to take part in an… experiment." Jeremy let the lights flash blue again. Michael grabbed their arm. He was probably worried that Jeremy was pulling some spooky SQUIP shit. Which they sort of were, but it wasn't dangerous! Not even for the by-standers. They didn't have a lot of concentration to spare but they patted Michael's hand reassuringly.

They kept mouthing, "An experiment of light, of sound, and most importantly, of technology." As the speaker synthetically generated the words, every single screen in the store lit up simultaneously, displaying cascading bright blue lines of binary and kana that Jeremy was pumping into them to gear up for the show ahead.

"What…" Michael whispered. Other people were murmuring worriedly, too, though no one was screaming for security yet.

From a row of phones, ringtones started going off in a synchronized beeping rhythm.

Jeremy was no musician, but they were a supercomputer that was made of math. Music was just a certain audio input arranged in a pleasing rhythm. Maybe a robot couldn't write a symphony but they sure as hell could analyze and remix one. Jeremy concentrated on the rhythm of the song they had in mind as the phone ringtones built up into a melodious cacophony of beeps and boops.

The computers all gave loud error messages in a way that closely mimicked a cymbal crashing. Their screens alternated into a flashing animation of neon red, yellow, and green that slid from one end of the store to the other as a wheedling electronic tune started droning from the iPads. An electronica dance beat began to pulse from the stereo system that Michael had been eyeing earlier while a synth keyboard seemingly played itself.

The net effect was a slow groove with a digital beat that ebbed and pulsed in tandem with every blinking light and display in the store. Michael gave a laugh of delight as he recognized the opening notes, his wondering grin visible in the on-and-off neon glow of Jeremy's light show.

Jeremy inclined their head, acknowledging Michael's reaction, as the hum of printers and scanners swelled into a bass riff. "Lay back," the modulated voice instructed shoppers. There were more people in here now than before-the display was attracting a small crowd. "Relax. And chill. After all, there's… so much trouble in the world."

A second digital voice, heavily bass-boosted and autotuned, began singing the opening lines of the Bob Marley song that Jeremy knew was one of Michael's favorites.

Michael dropped his shopping bags at Jeremy's feet without a word, bopping his head along to the Marley remix that Jeremy was programming for him in real time. His body was swaying almost unconsciously, and then he was dancing, grooving in time with the reggae. Jeremy had access to a couple computer-controlled novelty room lights and directed them to center on Michael, offering as much of a spotlight as was physically possible. The small crowd of customers talked excitedly as Jeremy lit Michael up in green, then yellow, then bright red. It took Michael a few bars to realize that people were watching him, but when he looked around at the other shoppers, he didn't even falter in his one-man show. Some people hung back and watched while others followed his lead, starting to dance in the middle of the no-name electronic shop.

Michael waved at Jeremy, trying to get them to join in. Jeremy's toes were tapping and their hand twitched with every down-beat but they were too preoccupied with keeping the song playing properly. Michael shrugged, belting out the chorus alongside the modulated Marley impersonator. The lyrics weren't complicated; by the end, at least half the other people in the shop were singing along to the chorus. Jeremy, for their part, was leaning against the wireless chargers, panting for breath, but they had enough juice left for a grand finale of light displays centering on an infectiously triumphant Michael as the song faded out.

And then the magic was over. Phones and tablets defaulted to their home screen. The stereo went silent. Fluorescent lights buzzed back on.

After that frozen moment of fading music, the room exploded with happy chatter and laughter and scattered applause and rising cheering. People honest-to-God cheered. Jeremy could easily analyze that they weren't celebrating Jeremy and Michael; they were excited about the free show they'd gotten to see unexpectedly. But still. There were cheers and clapping, like Jeremy was the star of a story-time blog entry or a feel-good movie.

The store was packed, but as if they sensed that he was the reason for the impromptu dance number in the first place, there was a halo of space around Michael. Michael's face had gone darker, sweat on his forehead. He seemed out of breath too, but let out a whoop and ran to bro-hug Jeremy. "That was amazing!" Michael exclaimed. "When you first got the SQUIP, this is the kind of shit I expected, man! How did you do that?"

Even without the spotlight on him, Michael was hot and glowing in their arms, babbling about how he hadn't had that much fun in forever and how brilliant that remix was and where could he find the Soundcloud link and did Jeremy see what just had happened?

Jeremy just laughed and squeezed him back.