open as JD and Khoder followed. JD kept his head down and watched his feet carry him to the elevator, idly wondering if the building’s security was good enough to get a reflection off the gaudy tiles.
JD found Soo-hyun’s stolen boots waiting by the elevator, one of them tapping quickly. “Is this the building?” he whispered.
“Don’t be daft.”
“Then what are we here for?”
“I told you yesterday: planning dinner. I’m starving. You’ve got that money I gave you, hyung? Your shout.”
“Why is it my shout? It was your idea.”
The elevator opened with a faint digital chime. Soo-hyun ignored JD’s protest and bowed with exaggerated flourish, motioning him and Khoder inside. They hit a button near the top of the control panel, simply marked “R,” and the elevator jolted as it began to ascend.
“Bro, this elevator is nicer than your apartment.”
“You haven’t seen my apartment,” JD said.
“I’m not wrong though, am I?”
JD glanced up to see Khoder reflected to infinity in the mirrored walls, staring up at the intricately detailed decorations along the roof of the elevator car, painted with gold leaf or something like it.
“Keep your head down.”
“They look at me, they see fucking Gandhi.” Khoder tapped the brim of his baseball cap where wires ran along the edge, connected to AR microprojectors. “I’ll set you up before the job.” Khoder raised a middle finger to the small dome in the corner that more than likely hid a camera. “Ever been flipped off by Gandhi, bro?” he asked it.
“How do you even know who Gandhi is?”
Khoder shrugged, still watching the camera. “Searched for ‘famous skinny brown guy.’ He was a big deal.”
JD shook his head and looked to Soo-hyun for support, but they just smiled. Their face said: “You brought him; he’s your problem.”
The doors opened and Soo-hyun pushed ahead, carrying JD and Khoder forward on their wake. They stood in the entrance to a dimly lit restaurant called Orbital. The candles that topped each table provided the only luminescence, islands of fire in a sea of darkness. Human waitstaff, dressed all in black with faces shrouded, moved between the tables—shades of black shifting on black, black tablecloths, black carpet, sheer black curtains pulled back from tall convex windows.
The city stretched beyond the wall of glass. Skyscrapers dominated the landscape, glowing with a million rectangular eyes, and Songdo Stadium loomed large in the panoramic view. As JD watched it shifted slightly to the left, as though its rounded roof were the shell of some massive tortoise, walking steadily across the city, demolishing everything in its path. JD felt light-headed, like he was about to pitch over sideways, then the sensation drained from his mind as he understood: the restaurant was revolving.
Soo-hyun approached the restaurant’s host standing at a glass lectern, underlit by a tablet glowing with reservation details. She was the only visible staff with her face uncovered, and her features were odd—too symmetrical, surgically perfected—but undeniably attractive. She wore a long shapeless top, fabric transparent but decorated in Mandelbrot patterns, with a bra underneath like a wide black censor bar. JD preemptively elbowed Khoder to stop him saying anything inappropriate.
“We need a table,” Soo-hyun said.
The host’s face stayed blank. “I’m sorry, but we’re completely booked.”
Over the woman’s shoulder the restaurant was mostly empty. JD opened his mouth in protest, but thought better of it. He leaned close to Soo-hyun. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“It’s gotta be here.”
JD sighed and took the envelope of money from his back pocket. He slid out a fifty-euro note and placed it firmly on the host’s tablet. “If you look again, I think you’ll find we have a reservation.”
“Under the name ‘Fuck You,’ ” Soo-hyun said.
“Soo-hyun,” JD whispered, harshly. He turned back to the host: “Please, it’s my birthday.” He gave her his warmest smile.
The woman produced a small blacklight torch and shone it over the currency, as though she could tell forgeries with her naked eye. Indignant anger swelled in JD’s chest, but he quickly quashed it—for all he knew the notes were forged. He took a small step back, ready to rush the elevator if the host reached for her phone to call the police.
“While you’ve got that light out, maybe check me for crabs, huh?” Khoder said, to no response.
The woman looked to JD and the edges of her mouth pulled back in the approximation of a smile. “Right this way.” She picked up three menus and walked them into the restaurant proper.
“By the window,” Soo-hyun said to the woman’s back.