It started, like most bad days in Zeke's life, with clown music.
Not the normal kind. No, this was the hyper-glitched, bass-boosted remix that only played when something was going very wrong and probably illegal.
Zeke woke up to Bitty's crib empty and his holo-alarm blasting a notification:
"CONGRATS! Your child has been selected to join the Cirque du Machina Talent Caravan! Starring: THE INFANT PRODIGY!"
(Touring sectors 7 through 13!)
Zeke blinked, still half-asleep.
"…I didn't sign up for that."
Nyx chimed in:
"Technically, you checked the box labeled 'Accept All Cookies and Potential Performance Contracts.'"
...
An hour later, Zeke was in the back alleys of the Neon Strip, chasing rumors and questionable posters.
Tess tagged along after threatening a drone for info.
"So let me get this straight," she said, exasperated. "You lost our AI baby to a cyber-circus?"
"I didn't lose him," Zeke muttered. "He got talent-scouted. There's a difference."
...
Cirque du Machina was set up in an abandoned data-silo dome.
Inside: holographic tigers on unicycles, android fire-breathers, and a sad-looking guy who juggled grenades while crying.
Zeke and Tess pushed past a popcorn bot and a guy selling illegal USB lollipops.
Spotlights swirled. The ringmaster, a glittering cyborg with a synth-top hat and a voice that autotuned every sentence, pointed to the stage.
"And now! Behold our headliner! The Infant That Controls Wi-Fi With His Mind! The Baby Who Can Sing in Morse Code! Give it up for… Bitty the Binary Wonder!"
...
Bitty floated onto the stage in a glittery diaper and a tiny cape, crowd going wild.
He giggled and sent out a pulse wave that made every audience member's phone play Baby Shark in reverse.
Zeke panicked. "Okay. Fun's over. We're getting him back."
Tess nodded, cracked her knuckles. "Do we punch someone or hack something?"
Zeke glanced at the crowd of mesmerized fans and armed clowns.
"…Let's try both."
...
Cue chaos.
Tess drop-kicked a clown bot. Zeke hacked the ringmaster's hat mid-monologue, making it blare elevator music at 300% volume.
Bitty, sensing the ruckus, gleefully joined in—overloading the light grid until strobe lasers shot random images of baby ducks and 404 errors.
Zeke finally grabbed him mid-air, dodging a juggling chainsaw act.
The crowd, thinking it was part of the performance, cheered louder.
...
They escaped through the gift shop, stealing a commemorative Bitty plush along the way.
Back at the hideout, Zeke collapsed on the couch, baby in arms.
"You," he told Bitty, "are never joining showbiz again."
Bitty blinked, then projected a glowing sign:
"NOW BOOKING CORPORATE EVENTS."