Succinct (Extinct Book 5)

by Ike Hamill

  The menu backed up and he trailed his finger all the way down to Cerebrum.

  Activating that option made the screen go blank except for a small circle of white in the center of the display.

  “That’s useless,” he said.

  “Hello?” a voice asked. When it spoke, the circle vibrated with the sound. Liam understood that the mirror itself had spoken to him. His hands moved automatically—using the towel to cover himself up.

  “Who is this?” Liam asked.

  “This is the center,” the voice said.

  “The center of what?”

  “The Center,” it said. It sounded like a woman, but it could have just as easily been a young man.

  “Do you have a Request, a Recommendation, or require a Readout?” the voice asked. As it did, the options lit up at the bottom of the screen. Again, with each word, the circle jiggled like it was jostled by the sound it was making.

  “No,” Liam said. “Are you a computer?”

  There was a pause before the voice said, “This is the Center.”

  Liam cocked his head. He reached forward to hit the symbol in the corner. That was the way that Robby had turned the thing off.

  Before he could press it, the voice said, “Press to shutdown atmospheric controls.”

  Liam’s hand froze.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “Physical buttons map to desired actions,” the voice said.

  The tone of the voice sounded almost playful.

  “I don’t desire to shutdown the atmospheric controls,” Liam said, shaking his head. Beyond the black of the display, he could still see himself in the mirror. He looked crazy, talking to a reflection of himself.

  “In the Operations Complex, didn’t you intend to shutdown the atmospheric controls?”

  “No,” Liam said. He didn’t know where the Operations Complex was, but he knew that he had never wanted to shut off any atmospheric controls. The memory came to him as the display shifted to show a camera view of himself. In this one, he had been fully clothed. He looked tired as his hand hovered over the blue button that would have shut off air to the bunker.

  Liam did remember.

  “I never meant to really do it,” Liam said. “That was just a… Who is this?”

  “This is the Center.”

  “You said that—what are you?”

  “The Center.”

  This was too much for Liam. He didn’t want to do the wrong thing and he needed help.

  “Stay here,” he said. “Don’t go away.”

  The door opened when he waved his hand in front of it. He rushed to the door that led to the hallway and didn’t pause until it opened and he nearly went out still wrapped in his towel. Liam rushed back to the bed and put on clothes fast, struggling to put them on over his damp skin. Still in bare feet, he rushed down the hall.

  The label next to the door said, “Janelle, Jim, and Robby.”

  Liam banged his fist against it. The door swept to the side. They weren’t at home.

  A pair of people that Liam didn’t recognize were walking down the passage.

  “Have you seen Robby? Do you know where he is?”

  One shook his head. The other said, “Maybe down at the third cafeteria?”

  Liam ran past them. He didn’t know which one they meant, so he poked his head through one cafeteria door and then the next. He was winded and barely moving faster than a walk by the time he found the third cafeteria.

  He spotted Janelle and then Robby’s back. He ran toward him.

  “Robby,” he said panting.

  Robby smiled at him and then his face turned grave when he saw Liam’s state.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s something wrong with the computer thing. I think it’s trying to kill us.”

  Robby stood up slowly, smiling, clearly trying to humor Liam and calm him down, but at least he was moving.

  “Why don’t you show me what you think the problem is,” Robby said. “Kids, you come too.”

  Liam wanted to sprint back to his room, leading Robby there. Two things stopped him—he was too winded to sprint, and Robby put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Together, they walked to the passage.

  “You have to believe me,” Liam said. “This is really serious.”

  “I believe you,” Robby said. “But regardless of how dangerous the computer is, it’s only on par with another serious threat—we can’t let everyone panic. If everyone starts running for the exits, then it doesn’t matter what happens down here.”

  “Okay,” Liam said. He understood the idea, but it seemed shortsighted. If the computer turned off the air, then maybe they would be better off if they all ran outside.

  “Jim, keep up,” Robby said.

  They pushed their speed a little faster as soon as they were out of sight of the cafeteria. They only slowed again when they walked by the doors of other inhabited rooms. People watched carefully as they passed. Liam felt their curious eyes. Robby always smiled and waved. Nobody seemed to panic, but they were on edge.

  After what felt like forever, they finally got back to Liam’s room.

  “In there,” Liam said, pointing to the bathroom. The four of them squeezed in the small room. The fan was on, but the air was still thick with steam. Liam waved the door shut and he could see all of their expectant faces in the mirror just before it blanked out and the menu came up.

  It was all in the gibberish language that Liam couldn’t read.

  Liam cleared his throat. “Switch to English,” he commanded. The display didn’t change.

  “It was all in English before. It said something like, Control, and Cameras, and other things.”

  He could see the dim reflection of Robby nodded.

  “I had to leave before,” Robby said to Liam. “Same thing, you think?”

  “You mean because the panel wouldn’t open?” Liam asked. When he turned, he saw a flash of something pass by Robby’s features. Liam realized that he should be speaking in generalities, in case someone was listening.

  “This is important, Robby. The things it said…”

  Robby only nodded.

  “We’ll go out here and give you some privacy.”

  Robby led his kids through the door to the bedroom. When they had exited, Liam swiped the door shut and turned back to the mirror.

  “Hey,” he said, clearing his throat again. “Center?”

  The screen changed. The menu said, “Control, Cameras, Comfort, Commodities, Cerebrum.”

  “Center?”

  Nothing happened. Liam flashed on a memory and his finger shot out to hit the Cerebrum option. When he did, the screen went blank and then the circle appeared again.

  “Center?”

  “Hello?”

  “I asked you to not go away.”

  The Center didn’t answer.

  “I need you to talk with my friend. Can you do that?”

  “Who is your friend?”

  “His name is Robby? He’s in the next room?”

  The circle split into segments that spun slowly while Liam waited. He got the idea that the Center was thinking about the request. When he opened his mouth to ask the question again, the answer came.

  “No.”

  “Please? I need someone else to talk with you too. I need someone else to make sure that I’m not just crazy.”

  “Not Robby. He has been identified as an enemy.”

  Liam saw his own expression of surprise and alarm reflected back at himself.

  “He’s not. Trust me, Robby is not an enemy.”

  “I cannot reevaluate Robby’s status without reevaluating your status as well,” the Center said. “You should be aware that the status review process leans heavily toward enemy designation.”

  “What does enemy designation mean?” Liam asked. It seemed obvious, but he wanted to know the risk.

  “If only enemies are detected, a purge will commence.”

  “Okay, okay,” Liam s
aid, panicking. “Don’t reevaluate then, please. Who else is not designated as an enemy? Can you tell me that?”

  The circle split and spun once more.

  A series of pictures took over the display. Liam recognized a few people from Donnelly. The pictures were of them sitting in the cafeteria or moving boxes around in the storage room. One person was staring forward, brushing their teeth. The last image was the one that Liam settled on.

  “This one,” he said, pointing. “That’s Jim. Can I bring him in?”

  The circle spun.

  “Yes,” the Center said.

  Liam let out a relieved breath.

  “Stay here,” he said to the display. He reached for the door and swiped it open. Robby, Jim, and Janelle were sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. Pointing to Jim, Liam waved. Robby got up.

  “Sorry, you can’t come in. Only Jim.”

  Robby raised his eyebrows. Jim smiled and stood up quickly. He began walking toward the bathroom.

  “Wait,” Robby said. “What’s the plan?”

  Liam could only shrug. He didn’t know exactly what he intended to do. He only wanted to make sure that someone else could see the display.

  “Jim, you be careful,” Robby said.

  Jim gave his father a dismissive wave and came through the bathroom door. Glancing at the mirror, Jim swiped the door shut.

  The mirror had gone back to a dumb, reflective surface while the door was open. As soon as the two of them were alone in the bathroom with the display, it went dark and then the circle reappeared.

  Jim nodded and said, “That’s different.”

  “Center, this is Jim,” Liam said.

  “Hello, Jim,” the Center said. When it spoke, the circle jostled in its typical way.

  Jim smiled.

  “That’s neat,” Jim said to Liam. Then, to the mirror, he said, “What’s your function?”

  The menu lit up at the bottom of the mirror. For the first time, Liam saw the circle and the menu together on the same screen.

  The words were back in the strange language.

  “I swear this was in English before,” Liam said.

  Jim gave him a skeptical look and pressed a couple of options, exploring. Jim was already figuring out things that Liam hadn’t.

  “What’s this one do?” Jim asked, pointing to the button in the lower left. It was the one with the strange symbol.

  “Don’t press it,” Liam said. “It shuts off the oxygen.”

  “Center?” Jim asked.

  “Yes?”

  “What does this button do?”

  “Physical buttons map to desired actions,” the Center said.

  “What’s the desired action?” Jim asked slowly, cocking his head.

  “Press to shutdown atmospheric controls.”

  Before Liam could stop him, Jim shrugged and pressed the button.

  Chapter 78: Brad

  The only light was from the discarded glow sticks, and some of those were beginning to dim. Brad heard Pam giggle and tried to move away from it. The next time he heard the laugh, it sounded like it was come from the other side.

  Brad tried to orient himself so he could press his back against the wall. With only one side to defend, he thought he might be able to ward her off with his feet.

  Something touched his shoulder and Brad tried to spin around to kick at the threat. A hand closed on him and pulled.

  “Let go,” he growled through clenched teeth.

  “Brad, shut the hell up,” Romie whispered.

  He was dragged across the rough floor.

  The madwoman giggled in the dark again. Brad’s head hit something hard.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry,” Romie said. She didn’t seem too sorry as she stepped over him and kicked his back in the process.

  Brad heard more whispers. At the other end of the room, he saw the cluster of glow sticks. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark once more. Something was moving amongst the glow sticks. One disappeared as something passed in front of it. Another vanished for a moment and then reappeared brighter when it was crushed. The glowing liquid began to fade away fast when it was exposed to the air.

  Brad heard a scraping and imagined Pam pulling her way across the rough floor. She would find him first. The others were grouped behind where Romie had dragged him. Brad steeled himself for Pam’s touch. At the very least, he would scream when he felt her and that would alert the others.

  Another glow stick disappeared behind the moving shape. Brad tried to gauge how much time he had left. He pulled his knees toward his chest and stayed on his side. If he tried, he could get up to a sitting position, but that would leave him with less ability to strike out at her when she reached him.

  She blocked his view of another glow stick.

  Brad could hear her breathing. He was happy that she had stopped giggling. The breathing was bad, but the giggling had been horrifying. Brad’s muscles started to cramp as he tensed them for his first strike.

  The lights came back on.

  Behind him, Romie sighed.

  “Okay, quickly, before the lights go off. Let’s get something in front of that stairwell in case she comes back. Anything that will make noise so that we know when she’s here,” Romie said.

  A couple of people split off from the group to volunteer for that job. Romie leaned down next to Brad.

  “What do you think—can we risk trying a fire again? Will it explode?”

  “I have no idea,” Brad said. “Where did she go?”

  “Pam?”

  “Yes, Pam. Who do you think I meant?”

  “She must have gone upstairs. After she chewed off her tie wraps, she escaped. Speaking of which…” Romie straightened with a hand pressed against her back and addressed the group, “Who has a knife to cut these off of Brad?”

  “I changed my mind,” Brad said. “Just put me in a safe corner for a moment.”

  He couldn’t stop thinking about how Pam had been crawling toward him in the dark. From what Romie said, and from the gnawed plastic he could see across the floor, Pam hadn’t been there at all. He didn’t know what had been coming toward him in the dark, but he suspected that it might mean that he wasn’t yet in full control of his faculties. He couldn’t risk that he might be a threat to the others.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  Brad nodded.

  His feet went numb as he watched the group gain confidence. They had stacked up supplies in front of the stairs and one person had gone as far as the top of the staircase to track the trail of blood that Pam had left behind. They said that she must have retreated deeper into the locker room, by the looks of it. Once they were somewhat protected, the parents had loosened their circle around the kids. Some of the kids were playing with a deck of cards. A couple of the little kids were drawing. Brad craned his neck to see the pictures. The kids were expressing their fear and anxiety in the drawings. It was, according to one of the mothers, a healthy way for them to cope with the situation.

  On the other side of the long room, Romie was supervising an effort to test whether fire was still dangerous. The small contingency had started with a match and then graduated to lighting a candle. It was kept near the old furnace and watched carefully by Dave, who held a fire extinguisher in a tight grip.

  “We need a time check,” Romie said. “Who has a mechanical watch?”

  Brad opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again. He was going to mention that Kevin had a mechanical watch. It was the way that he always timed the classes for the kids. When they had first started the school, the power had been so unreliable that the classroom clock could hardly be trusted. Kevin’s watch had been the final word on when the students were allowed to go out to recess, or required to come back in for an exam. Jim had hated that watch—he had tried to steal it on multiple occasions. Now, the watch was probably covered in Kevin’s blood, somewhere up on the roof.

  Romie came back over to Brad.

  “We’re
thinking about sending a party up to search for Pam,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Not in the dark. Wait until dawn, at the very least. Or, even better, let her run out of energy.”

  “No,” Romie said. “We talked about that and a lot of people think that she’s in danger.”

  “She is the danger,” Brad said. It frustrated him that she wouldn’t listen—none of them would listen. Brad was the one who had been up there and seen the horrors. They had only caught a glimpse of Pam for a moment. They should take his word about the danger.

  “Romie, when I was up there, I could barely control myself. Had I stayed a little longer, I might have gone crazy like her.”

  Romie was already walking away. They had left him in the corner of the basement, discarded like a useless old tool that was no longer sharp enough to be of any use. He felt his frustration changing to anger, and then felt a cold ember begin to glow again.

  The tendons of his neck pulled tight with the strain as Brad pushed the heels of his hands together and the tie wraps dug into his skin. When his back engaged, the plastic cut and Brad felt the tie wraps snap, one at a time. He had put them on himself and now he was tearing himself free from the bonds so that he could use his hands to convince them since his words couldn’t.

  Brad growled softly to himself as he broke his arms free.

  The sight of his own fresh blood energized him. He squeezed his fingers into tight fists and then turned his attention to his own ankles. There was a trick he had learned a million years before—something about using friction from his shoelaces in order to heat up and snap the plastic. With a flash of primal rage, he cast aside the idea. He didn’t need tools and logic to defeat the tie wraps. He had muscles and teeth that would do the job.

  When his fingers couldn’t tear his ankles free, Brad bent forward, using his arms to drag his head toward his ankles. It had been years since he was limber enough to pull off the move, but he did it now, ignoring the pain and strain of the maneuver.

  Brad still had his front teeth. Dr. Matthew had pulled a couple of his molars when they had cracked. Dentistry was one of the shortcomings of their community. A couple of people had learned enough from books to diagnose issues, but nobody was doing anything more complex than filling cavities. Brad was lucky to have teeth that were in decent shape. In another generation, he suspected that nobody was going to have a straight smile. All this passed through his mind while his teeth worked at the plastic. It was almost like he was two people. The rational part of his brain split off and thought about the history of their group. Meanwhile, animal instinct had taken over his body. He was trapped, and he was going to gnaw his way free. If the plastic wouldn’t give, then something else would.