Little Brother

perfectly dark by the sea, and treacherous, even with our keychain lights. Slippery, sharp rocks that were difficult enough to walk on even without trying to balance six pounds of smashed electronics in a plastic bag. I slipped once and thought I was going to cut myself up, but she caught me with a surprisingly strong grip and kept me upright. I was pulled in right close to her, close enough to smell her perfume, which smelled like new cars. I love that smell.
    "Thanks," I managed, looking into the big eyes that were further magnified by her mannish, black-rimmed glasses. I couldn't tell what color they were in the dark, but I guessed something dark, based on her dark hair and olive complexion. She looked Mediterranean, maybe Greek or Spanish or Italian.
    I crouched down and dipped the bag in the sea, letting it fill with salt water. I managed to slip a little and soak my shoe, and I swore and she laughed. We'd hardly said a word since we lit out for the ocean. There was something magical in our wordless silence.
    At that point, I had kissed a total of three girls in my life, not counting that moment when I went back to school and got a hero's welcome. That's not a gigantic number, but it's not a minuscule one, either. I have reasonable girl radar, and I think I could have kissed her. She wasn't h4wt in the traditional sense, but there's something about a girl and a night and a beach, plus she was smart and passionate and committed.
    But I didn't kiss her, or take her hand. Instead we had a moment that I can only describe as spiritual. The surf, the night, the sea and the rocks, and our breathing. The moment stretched. I sighed. This had been quite a ride. I had a lot of typing to do tonight, putting all those keys into my keychain, signing them and publishing the signed keys. Starting the web of trust.
    She sighed too.
    "Let's go," I said.
    "Yeah," she said.
    Back we went. It was a good night, that night.

    Jolu waited after for his brother's friend to come by and pick up his coolers. I walked with everyone else up the road to the nearest Muni stop and got on board. Of course, none of us was using an issued Muni pass. By that point, Xnetters habitually cloned someone else's Muni pass three or four times a day, assuming a new identity for every ride.
    It was hard to stay cool on the bus. We were all a little drunk, and looking at our faces under the bright bus lights was kind of hilarious. We got pretty loud and the driver used his intercom to tell us to keep it down twice, then told us to shut up right now or he'd call the cops.
    That set us to giggling again and we disembarked in a mass before he did call the cops. We were in North Beach now, and there were lots of buses, taxis, the BART at Market Street, neon-lit clubs and cafes to pull apart our grouping, so we drifted away.
    I got home and fired up my Xbox and started typing in keys from my phone's screen. It was dull, hypnotic work. I was a little drunk, and it lulled me into a half-sleep.
    I was about ready to nod off when a new IM window popped up.
    > herro!
    I didn't recognize the handle — spexgril — but I had an idea who might be behind it.
    > hi
    I typed, cautiously.
    > it's me, from tonight
    Then she paste-bombed a block of crypto. I'd already entered her public key into my keychain, so I told the IM client to try decrypting the code with the key.
    > it's me, from tonight
    It was her!
    > Fancy meeting you here
    I typed, then encrypted it to my public key and mailed it off.
    > It was great meeting you
    I typed.
    > You too. I don't meet too many smart guys who are also cute and also socially aware. Good god, man, you don't give a girl much of a chance.
    My heart hammered in my chest.
    > Hello? Tap tap? This thing on? I wasn't born here folks, but I'm sure dying here. Don't forget to tip your waitresses, they work hard. I'm here all week.
    I laughed aloud.
    > I'm here, I'm here. Laughing too hard to type is all
    > Well at least my IM comedy-fu is still mighty
    Um.
    > It was really great to meet you too
    > Yeah, it usually is. Where are you taking me?
    > Taking you?
    > On our next adventure?
    > I didn't really have anything planned
    > Oki — then I'll take YOU. Friday. Dolores Park. Illegal open air concert. Be there or be a dodecahedron
    > Wait what?
    > Don't you even read Xnet? It's all over the place. You ever hear of the Speedwhores?
    I nearly choked. That was Trudy Doo's band — as in Trudy Doo, the woman who had paid me and Jolu to update the