The Glitch (The Glitches Series Book 1) Page 18

I manage a small smile and nod. And I wish I had his certainty.

  We step inside the Norm. The door stays open behind us. I might have broken it. Because it is night, it seems the Techs are asleep or inside. I nod the direction we need to take, and we head out at a slow jog.

  “The core’s not where you thought,” I whisper to him.

  He gives me a glance, but he follows me.

  We stay in the shadows between buildings, half running. The drone’s visual lays out the route we need to take. Raj’s breathing becomes labored. Mine doesn’t. I’m both faster and stronger.

  Maybe it’s all the training with Wolf—or maybe it’s the bioengineering in me. The skills and power I used to get Raj out of the Norm return. They are stronger here. Or maybe it’s just that I can access them here.

  Either way, we’re moving fast and I see the building we must enter. The doorway is dark. I nudge Raj. “Just up ahead!” I say, keeping my voice quiet.

  I want to head straight to the AI core, but other blips appear on the visual. There is movement up ahead. Drones. I halt at the corner of the building, holding out an arm to stop Raj.

  He leans against the wall. I watch for the drones. Two head down the screen, scanning, moving slowly. We stay still in the shadows. The drones slip past.

  “How did you do that?” Raj mutters when he’s caught his breath. He motions with his hand to the gear I’m wearing.

  I bite my lip. But this isn’t just about the gear. It’s that I could integrate it with my systems.

  “I’ll explain later,” I say quietly, hoping he’ll drop it.

  He puts a hand on my arm. “Drones are advanced biotech.” He lets the words hang between us. His face is half cast in shadow making it difficult to know what he’s thinking.

  I shake my head and say, “We need to move now.”

  We dart out and run into the building. The Norm seems to think it needs to be daytime because the dome overhead is starting to lighten as if it is dawn. That doesn’t matter. We head to the building indicated on the map. I yank on the door. It sticks, so I glance at the map and then at my hand. My palm tingles almost like a connect, except I remain in the Norm. To my surprise, the door swings opens easily. We duck inside. Behind us, the door closes, leaving the room utterly black.

  I find that I don’t need light. My eyes adjust instantly, and the drone view shows everything in tints of green.

  “I can’t see anything!” Raj hisses.

  “Don’t worry. I can.” I take his hand and lead him down a long hall.

  According to the map, the AI core has to be housed below us. That’s what's pulling the most power. Other systems are spread over the Norm, but Conie would need extra power. She has to be here. If we can reach her, we should be able to connect and hack her program. Then we can shut her down.

  But it’s not going to be that simple. Three drones appear on the map. They’re small blips and they’re heading our way. I glance around and heft the weapon in one hand. Can I make all three nonfunctional before they fire on us? I’m not sure I can and I fear it would only alert the AI to send more drones and Techs to swarm us.

  I point ahead of us and then up.

  Raj lets go of my hand and holds out his palm. “Need light and that,” he whispers and nods to the weapon in my hand. I give it to him and glance at the wall.

  Light is not something my biotech was designed to need, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use it. Reaching out, I place my palm flat on the wall. Fibers tickle my skin. I concentrate and think one word. Lights!

  The floors and ceiling brighten with that cool, blue light of the Norm.

  Raj aims and fires the drone weapon. A beam of light that smells like burning metal shoots out. Raj sweeps the hall in front of us. I would have tried separate bolts, but his sweep does a better job. The light cuts the drones apart.

  The drones crash to the floor and lay there, sparking, smoke rising from the remains.

  I glance over at Raj. He’s breathing heavily and sweat gleams on his face. “How’d you know how to do that?”

  He straightens and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Games when I was a kid. Before the AI kicked me out of the Norm.”

  I nod. “This isn’t a game.”

  Raj doesn’t hand the weapon back, but he says, “Good. I’m not playing.”

  We start down the hall again. But there is no way Conie doesn’t know we’re here now.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We find stairs and I follow them downward. And then it becomes a ladder to go even deeper. The map shows me this is repair access only. I wait for something to go wrong. Drones can’t fit in the access tube, but my palms are damp and so is the back of my shirt. I was expecting more defenses, and I begin to think she is letting us walk in for her own reasons.

  Glancing over at Raj, I see him lick the sweat off his upper lip. I wonder if he thinks the same thing I do, but I don’t bother asking. It doesn’t matter what we think.

  The tube opens out into a narrow hallway. The drone visual shows we’ve almost reached the room we needed to access. The place is oddly quiet, except for a distant hum of power in electrical wires.

  Raj glances over at me. “No drones?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s next.”

  He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.” He points to the door ahead. “That’s the only way out for us.”

  We start down that hallway, our boots echoing against the metal floor. At the door, I stop and Raj stops a step behind me. I glance at the door. There is no way to open it. But a railing, just like the ones on the platforms in the Outside, rises up next to the door. It is thin and green. I reach for the railing and wrap my hand around it.

  Instead of the prickle of a connect, a memory washes over me.

  Muted blue walls, and the brighter white-blue lines of data. It’s calming to watch it flow. I know she will protect me, watch over me as her favorite. I fret sometimes that I do not go into the Norm. But there is so much data to absorb. She shows me what is important.

  The memory ends. It leaves me chilled to my core and my heart pounding. I glance over at Raj. He hasn’t noticed a hesitation—meaning it happened in less than a nanosecond. He doesn’t know. But I do.

  I lived here. I was happy—or at least content.

  He can’t know that, I decide. Not ever.

  “Are you going to open it or what?” Raj asks.

  I glance at the railing, at my hand. I fear we are walking into a trap, but I cannot turn back.

  I close my eyes. Whatever’s beyond this door isn’t going to be good. I vow I will do everything possible to make certain Raj makes it out of this alive.

  With a steadying breath, I twist the railing and command the door to open. It does with a soft hiss like a breath.

  Up to this point, it has all been so easy, so calm that I’m actually not expecting the swarm of things that fly at us. These aren’t drones. They’re scabs. I know what they are at once. Instead of being smooth globes like a drone, they have arms and legs and attachments sticking out of a flat disc. They rush us. One catches my arm, its metal claw cutting my skin. Raj fires the drone weapon, slicing through metal. Another scab cuts into the copper wiring that interfaced with my drone visual. It goes dark. I drag it off and throw off the useless visual. Turning, I see Raj’s jacket is torn. So are his pants. He fires again, slicing through a half dozen more scabs. More fall out of sliding panels that line the room.

  Across from us is another doorway. This one is wide and open. “Raj, there,” I shout the words and start for the doorway, ducking scabs, kicking at them, using every trick Wolf ever taught me. My hands sting from striking out at metal. I hear the power hum on the done weapon Raj carries.

  Glancing back, I see he hasn’t moved. He waves me ahead. “Go,” he shouts.

  I call out his name, but a scab slams into me, sending me flying through the doorway. The door slides shut. Getting up, I pound on it and my fists dent the metal. “Raj!”

  Ste
pping back, I look for the railing to connect and open the door, but a soft voice stops me.

  “Welcome home, Lib.”

  My skin prickles and my blood seems to freeze. That voice echoes inside my head and the ache lifts inside my chest.

  I’ve missed you.

  The words whisper in the back of my mind. I shove them aside and turn.

  There is nothing to miss. I no longer belong here. I do not miss Conie!

  Conie forms her projection in front of me. It starts with an outline, and then scan lines fill in the hair, the face, the eyes, and the mouth. She assembles from the top down. She wears a tunic of cloth today, like the one I had on when I woke in the Outside. Her lips are almost smiling, and her eyes are almost welcoming. But they are the wrong color. They are an impossible electric blue.

  “You’ve done a good job, Lib.”

  “Getting here? Did you think a couple of drones would stop me?”

  She takes steps toward me, one hand outstretched as if she could touch me. She needn’t bother with this, and I wonder why she does. “Of course not. Their purpose was to take out the glitched Tech with you, but the scabs can do that.”

  “You wanted me here?” It’s not really a question. I can still hear the noise of the drone weapon on the other side of the door, whining and high. I walk through Conie and head for the opposite side of the room, where the controls must exist.

  I have to stop in front of the controls. There are so many railings and status lights.

  I have to get into the system, but how?

  Conie walks over to my side. Her feet do not quite meet the floor and she makes no sounds when she walks. But she smiles at me. “I knew you would return.” Her voice is calm voice and might be sweet if it wasn’t so cold. “You were meant to return once you fulfilled your purpose.” She struggles with a frown. It doesn’t quite form and she gives up and says, “You were meant to come alone. Why did you bring a glitched Tech?”

  I study the controls in front of me, but I ask her, “Why not? And what do you mean I was meant?”

  The projection flickers, but remains still. “The purpose I gave you. It is your entire meaning. It is the reason you exist.”

  I have to look at her, even though she is not really there. “Reason…” I trail off because I know this is the truth.

  I am a created being—manufactured. I…no…I have a mother. I have Conie. Images blur in my mind. I have a mother, and yet…I don’t. How can both be true? Conie wears my mother’s face. I know this for a fact. And yet, I also know I’ve been engineered. Given purpose by the AI—and then manipulated by Conie.

  I stiffen my back and stare at Conie. There is no going back now—and there’s no stopping Conie from telling me the truth.

  I reach for the control railing. But a sharp prick stabs my lower back. It’s like a connect, but different. I glance around. A glowing cable extends from me. It’s buried in my lower back. I know this at once. The data dump rips information from my skull. With a cry, I fall to my knees and clutch my head. Memories are dragged from me—new ones, old ones. They try come together only to twist apart.

  Conie steps up to me. “Sending the glitched Techs wasn’t a good solution. I did not anticipate they would join up with the decedents of those who rejected the security of the Norm.” She strokes my head with a hand as if I can feel her touch. I struggle to fight the download, but I can’t. What will I be without memories? Will I be back to being nothing? Empty as the ruined cities? “The program was sound—recycle glitched Techs to the Outside. Instead, they did not recycle. They return and connect through back doors and use low-level systems to steal. Stealing is wrong, Lib. Bad enough that this affects the Norm, but it put schedules in danger. That puts everything inside the Norm at risk. I protect the Norm. I keep it functional. I maintain the schedule for the plan that will save humanity. The departure is exact and cannot be delayed.”

  I choke out a cry and flail at the connect to my spine. I can’t reach it.

  “That is why I grew you. The perfect Glitch to be put in the Outside. Your purpose was to find the other Glitches. Search them out and return with the data on their location. The drones terminate too few and too randomly. This calls for a large scale extinction of all threats to the Norm.”

  “No.” I choke out the word. Is this true? The drone attacks were random. I am not at fault for that. But I am now.

  Conie straightens. “You have given me the location. I will correct the error. Imperfection constantly burdens humanity, but that can be remedied. In the end, the survival of humanity is all that matters.”

  The download takes locations and landmarks, but skips past Bear’s choice to go back into ground and the sorrow I felt. It starts to download Wolf’s image and skips again. It can’t deal with emotion. That is Conie’s flaw. She has no physical body. She can simulate feeling, but she can’t understand it. That’s why she needed me, and that’s what I can use against her.

  I think about Wolf—about how his body pressing against me left me tingling and warm. I think of his mouth covering mine, how he stole my breath. I focus on the pride of getting a hit in on Wolf and the pleasure of his smile.

  Conie tips her head to one side. “What are you doing, Lib?”

  “Something you can’t,” I tell her. I let the tears spring to my eyes. I think of Raj, fighting for his life and how it felt to have him put his hand over mine. I think of Bird’s fear and anger, my frustration, and I let go of a low growl. The download stutters again, and I use that instant and flip it around. I start to pull at the data. I drag back my memories and then start shifting through Conie’s to find more.

  “Lib?” Conie’s projection flickers. “You cannot. You have no access.”

  “You just gave it to me.” I struggle to my feet. I’m searching through terabytes and terabytes, more data than I can process, so I simply grab and go for more. I hit older data—it’s structured differently and I begin to pull at that, following twined threads.

  Conie flickers again, as if she cannot maintain the projection with me in the data stream. Her eyes shine even brighter. “You will set the program back. This cannot be allowed.”

  “So stop me.” I throw the words at her. I also throw more emotions—love, fear, joy, terror—into the data stream. She blinks twice. The cable snaps away from me and snakes back into the control panel.

  Staggering, I put a hand to my lower back. I feel the blood oozing warm from my skin. I turn to try and access the control panel, but behind me I hear the hiss of the door. Glancing at the doorway, I see scabs pour into the room, their metal gleaming and appendages clattering.

  Conie disappears, but her voice remains. “Lib is no longer functioning within parameters of the program. Terminate.”

  Cables snake out from the controls. I jump back and dodge them. Wolf’s training has become instinct. One dives at my neck. Pain tears through me, making me grit my teeth. This time, the cable is simply out to pull the life from me.

  Reaching up, I grab hold of the cable and yank hard. The end comes away bloody and sparking. With a growl, I use the cable to knock the scabs out of my way.

  “Attempting reboot of Lib program,” Conie says, her voice calm.

  “I’m not a program. Growth is life, you said. Well, I’ve grown. So get used to it.”

  I turn to the doorway, but Raj is down and struggling to reach the far doorway and the railing there. And too many scabs swarm the room. I need to connect—to shut them down and find us a way out.

  But going in may give Conie the perfect opportunity to get what she needs—me dead.

  Or maybe it’ll end with her dead.

  I slap a hand on the railing next to the door. Pricks sting my palm, and I blink.

  Connection: Secure.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I’m inside, but this artificial world is not right. The same cool blue washes the room, but smoke hazes it, too. What sounds like metal crashing echoes from all sides. Did I do this with the download con
nect and the data I pulled from the AI, or is something else happening?

  Sentinels form at once and come at me. Black and skeletal, they appear to be made of metal that is almost liquid. They have arms and legs but no head or face. They don’t need faces. They only mimic humanity.

  One sentinel reaches for me, but I dodge out of its grasp. With a blink, I’m in another part of the data stream. The sentinels follow. I head in the direction the smoke seems to be coming from. I need to call up the lines to shut down the scabs and drones—if I can get a breath long enough to do that.

  The sentinels follow me. I blink again and end up in the room with cabinets. Looking up, I see Raj on a tall ladder. Somehow, he made a connect and got in here, but I don’t know what he’s doing. He moves three times normal speed, faster than he’d ever be able to move in reality, and I remember he was raised to work within this world of data streams and information. Sentinels seem to form out of nothing, hover around Raj, and shoot out electricity from their hands.

  Just like with Skye when I first found her in the connect.

  I am tired of these sentinels. This time I don’t wait to call up the lines of light. I let loose my anger and spread out my hands. Light flows from my fingertips in bolts that vaporize the sentinels. Raj leans back to avoid a bolt. He falls and I catch him before he hits the floor. He slams into my arms, taking us both to the floor, which dissolves and ends with us in an empty, blue-tinged room. Raj grabs my arm. “Lib, did you do it?”

  I shake my head. “No, things have changed.”

  A whip of energy comes at us, ripping between us so Raj is forced to release me. Looking up, I see a sentinel. I stretch out my hand and don’t even bother with energy. I simply close my fist and the sentinel crumples into dust. The download has left me able to control this world, but the AI will be trying to change that.

  I grab Raj’s hand and blink again. We end in a room that looks as if it is the Outside. I realize it is a room created by my memories that were downloaded. With a wave of my hand, I wipe it away and delete it. Raj stares at me. “You failed?” Anger is tight in his voice, but beneath that I hear the heartbreak. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how deeply he wanted this to work.