The Glitch Saga- The Complete Collection

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The Glitch Saga- The Complete Collection Page 20

by Stephanie Flint


  “No. I’ll remember. I promise I’ll remember.” I lower my head against her head.

  “You can’t—”

  I press my lips against hers and kiss her. Her lips are smooth, warm. I close my eyes and trace her cheek. I lean closer, breathing a warm, humid stench. Her face is slimy, formless, like a lump of putty…

  I open my eyes and scream as a shapeless, dark red face peers at me from the wall. I push myself off the bed, tangling myself in the covers, and hit the metal grate hard. My heart rackets in my chest. Where am I… who am I?

  Something glows faintly in front of me—a man, his head hunched over his body, his arms tied at his sides by incorporeal means.

  I freeze in place. My breaths are ragged. I can’t move.

  Remember. Must… remember.

  The man disappears. The ghost is gone. I stagger to my feet. I shiver and sweat, and I spit in the sink, nauseated. The face is gone. The face—

  Dear Community… I was kissing the Legion Spore’s hull. I gag and brace myself against the kitchen cabinet. Despite the gooey warmth coming from the lumpy flesh of the organic fixture, it helps me stabilize myself. The dreams were real. Somewhere, somehow, that man managed to keep those memories.

  I stare at the wall. Gone… Lady Black said he would be gone…

  Just like Val said I was gone from her vision. I hug myself, wishing Val was next to me.

  “Legion Spore?” I barely speak, my teeth are chattering so badly.

  The rigid form of ivory returns to the counter and the floor.

  Yes, Master Zaytsev?

  “Bring up any logs to do with my sleeping patterns, and show any periods where your data wasn’t accurately recorded.” I clamp my hand around the locket Val gave me. Just a few more hours, and we’ll head back to the base. I’ll see Val. I can hold her, and know none of those dreams were real.

  Except… they were.

  We do not have any records from the past several nights during the start of your REM sleep cycle.

  “When I was dreaming,” I whisper.

  Yes.

  I nod, still shaking. “Thank you.”

  I force myself to walk toward the bathroom and not look at the two central hub towers. He’s in there. I slip into the bathroom and sit, my arms wrapped around me. I want Val, but I can’t help but wonder if Lady Black knows her lover’s memory survived.

  His name was Hernando Martinez. Life-spirit major, persuasion minor. A rebel from Mexico who was captured and brought in for interrogation. The Camaraderie believed he knew the locations of multiple bases throughout Central America, but he knew only one. He was then relocated to the COE Cuban base, where he was utilized for his life powers in the creation of the Legion Spore.

  I run my fingers through my hair. Thirty minutes left, and then we’ll portal into the Legion Spore’s hangar. In the meantime, I’m on the search for how he retained his memories. I match the image of the ghost with his profile picture. Same person. But the glitch is far deeper than the others I’ve encountered. Each section is a fragment, like a sleeper code waiting for the right conditions to act.

  Perhaps, Master Zaytsev, you are the missing piece.

  “Martinez would have no reason to know I’d exist.”

  Not you specifically, Master Zaytsev. The dreams have made themselves a regular occurrence since you first slept within us. Perhaps your state of mind must reach REM sleep in order to activate the rest of the program. After all, your mental and physical health must be translated into code in order to be recorded.

  “You think those records interacted with the glitch?”

  Precisely.

  I compare the two sets of data. There’s a string of code that overlaps the other. “What does this code signify?” I ask. An image pops into my mind of me holding Val—then Lady Black. Fear… protection… loss.

  I shudder.

  You are the perfect host, Master Zaytsev. Your emotional attachment to Lady Salazar is remarkably similar to the attachment Hernando Martinez felt for Lady Black. In fact, it may be that your own emotional interest in the same lady caused the program to activate.

  Guilt stabs at me. “His memory is gone, correct?”

  The man who was Hernando Martinez died in our creation. However, it appears he forced us to retain his memories through sheer will.

  I crane my head and stare at the ceiling. “How?”

  His life-spirit power must have kept his consciousness—what you call a spirit—alive longer than the average human or beast. Though his powers were used at the onslaught of radiation from the pendants, he was aware of his surroundings for far longer than our other occupants. Perhaps he used his persuasion power, along with his resilient will, to protect and embed select memories into the current intelligence matrix.

  A chill runs through me. If he was using his power for the duration of the Legion Spore’s creation, he would have been subjected to the pain of the merge. At least now I’ve found the glitches responsible and I can remove them before I leave, or at least quarantine them from the rest of the program. But that still leaves the potential for further memories to haunt my sleep. I don’t want to know if his memories extend to his death.

  “One more question.”

  We are not limited in answers, Master Zaytsev. Please do ask. Amusement rings through its voices.

  I flinch. Hubs don’t have personality, so the Legion Spore shouldn’t have one either. I make a note on my tablet to check for the source of that code next—starting with the code that allowed Martinez’s memories to remain.

  “Is this prolonged awareness the case for all life-spirit users?”

  No. Most were merged instantaneously with our programming.

  “Why was he different?”

  From our review of your dreams, Master Zaytsev, we can most logically conclude that his resilience came from knowing what would happen. As such, he was better equipped to defend himself.

  I check the records. The people from the Community—with a couple exceptions, haven’t caused much trouble. It’s the others, the rebels who knew about hubs and beast transformation, who left their legacy.

  Master Zaytsev, are you all right? Your emotions indicate disturbance.

  “How many other hubs have ever shown personality?” I rest my head against the chair’s ivory back. Almost time to return.

  None, to our knowledge, except early, incomplete prototypes. Why do you ask?

  I take a deep breath and look across the desolate city’s edge. All that remains of this once-thriving section of Tokyo is shattered buildings and burned-out mechs with scorched, acrylic glass pods. A cluster of Special Forces agents herd prisoners into a transport ship, their hands behind their backs.

  I frown. “They’re still taking prisoners? Where are they taking them?”

  Unknown, Master Zaytsev. Would you like us to look deeper into the Camaraderie’s files?

  “Please do.”

  Our leads indicate this information is held within Commander Rick’s private files. Should we continue our investigation?

  Despite its itching curiosity to do so, I shake my head and loop my fingers through the chain of my emerald pendant. “No. I’ll ask him later. Do they have powers?”

  The Legion Spore scans them. Yes. Two life-spirit elementals. One with laser eyes, and three techno sight users. One water elemental. All but one were captured from mechs, and the other was taken from a hidden intelligence base.

  Life-spirit. Techno sight. We don’t use them for beasties, we use them for hubs. “The other prisoners from the past few days—do they also have powers?”

  Yes. The powers we mentioned earlier, along with telepathy, armored skin, fire, air, and radiation elementals.

  Those are used as beasties, but I doubt that’s why Special Forces is taking them as prisoners. The powers involved were used directly in the creation of the Legion Spore. I close my hands together. “Thank you. Prepare the return portal to the Cuban base.”

  Yes, Master Zaytsev. Oh…
Master Zaytsev?

  “Yes?”

  Would it be all right if we turned off the interior design program while you are not on board? It makes us most uncomfortable.

  I squirm in my chair. My job here obviously isn’t complete. “As long as I’m not on board, sure. Do what you like.”

  Pleasure ripples through its thoughts and underneath its leathery hull. Thank you, Master Zaytsev. We appreciate your generosity.

  And now it’s appreciative, too. Go figure.

  We’re home. The flesh of the Legion Spore’s hull ripples and separates, opening to the pale blue light of LEDs. I squint into the light. The hangar is much brighter than the Legion Spore’s general ambiance. The edge of the hull reshapes, sloping into carefully formed steps. Oddly enough, this was the Legion Spore’s idea. I take the first step carefully, making sure it’s sturdy, and then hop down.

  Val stands across the room, swaying her hips as she waits. Her gaze falls on me. She grins, showing fangs, and runs at me in a full-on hug. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her against me. Her lily-scented perfume reaches my nostrils, comforting, but it’s accompanied by an image of Lady Black at my side. I force the image away, focusing instead on Val’s dark, frizzy curls.

  “How’d it go?” she asks. “I’m so glad you’re back.” Before I have a chance to respond, she presses her lips against mine. I sink into her embrace. If this could last forever, I wouldn’t protest—

  Greetings, Lady Salazar.

  She jerks away from me, her eyes wide as she looks over my shoulder. The organic vessel hovers behind us, its steps retreating into its hull. She frowns. “Was that—”

  “The Legion Spore,” I finish, wishing it hadn’t interrupted us.

  Our apologies, but we noticed something we think you should know.

  “Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, concerned.

  Master Zaytsev—we don’t mean to alarm you, but we sense a fourth entity in this room.

  My heart skips a beat as I search the room both with my eyes and with techno sight. The security cameras don’t show anyone else. I pull Val closer. “Someone invisible?”

  No… the fourth life-force is emanating from your partner.

  Val’s lips part in surprise. She glances at me. “I haven’t noticed anything unusual. I mean…” She bites her lip. “I’ve heard of people controlling others through telepathy, and that sometimes registers as another entity, but—”

  I hold my fingers to her lips, trying to calm her despite my own rapid heart.

  “What do you mean?” I ask the Legion Spore. If there’s someone else here—

  Our apologies… it seems our initial response was incorrect.

  I wince. If the Legion Spore had a false reading, this could be the onset of another glitch. But Val murmurs her relief in Spanish.

  “Legion Spore,” I ask, “what was the source of your reading? Why was there a false detection?”

  Not a false detection, Master Zaytsev. A misinterpretation. We believe the correct response to the situation should be, ‘Congratulations.’

  I frown. “Congratulations?”

  Congratulations on your upcoming parenthood, Master Zaytsev. Lady Salazar is with child. Approximately two months, based on the biological signs from the child and your partner’s memories.

  Val’s jaw drops as panic floods through me, deadening my limbs. I’m going to be a father? I haven’t finished fixing the glitches in the Legion Spore yet! I need to research how to care for a child, and—

  Additionally, the child appears to be growing exponentially faster than normal. At the current rate of development, the child will be born in June.

  My cheeks flush with heat. The whole room sways. For a moment, I can’t see anything. The child… my child… can I even be having a child? Only seven months instead of nine… “How is that even possible?” My vision starts to clear at the corners and I glance at Val’s stomach.

  She’s carrying our child?

  I’m going to be a father?

  What the heck is the Camaraderie going to think?

  I link my fingers through Val’s. Her face is still blank with shock.

  Unfortunately, we do not know how the accelerated speed of development is possible, Master Zaytsev. The child already exhibits the use of powers, and this could be the cause for the unnatural rate of development. Perhaps this is a side effect of being irradiated by the pendants while in an early stage of pregnancy.

  Little zaps of Val’s electricity tingle across my hands and wrists. Her expression slowly transforms from shock to delight. She tugs my hands. “We’re going to be parents!”

  I nod, numb. The involvement of the pendants, the unusual development…

  So many things could go wrong. I swallow hard. “Legion Spore—keep this a secret, just between us, okay?”

  May we inquire as to why? The voices are puzzled.

  I glance at Val, who narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Why a secret? This is… this is amazing.”

  “I’m not sure how the Camaraderie would react,” I say quietly.

  Val’s sharp canines press against her lower lip. “You don’t think they’d harm it, do you?”

  It’s not that. It’s something buried in the back of my mind that I can’t quite pinpoint. I see Lady Black clearly as I—Martinez—hold her. Something from those memories. But what? It’s like something I’ve forgotten.

  “No, I don’t think they’d harm it. But how are they going to react to their youngest leaders having a child?” Val’s twenty-three and I’m nineteen. I’m not sure how old Lord and Lady Black were when they had their son.

  We think the council would be ecstatic. There have been no children of enhanced powers born since Lady Emily Black, and she was raised outside of their control for several years. They are likely to be intrigued by a child who is developed within their sight.

  I blink. That’s the part that’s bugging me. It’s not the Martinez memories… it’s the song about Lady Black’s father. It’s the research I did afterward, the part where he tried to keep his daughter from the Camaraderie. After her grandfather’s death, she was under Commander Rick’s care, and no one would have dared hurt her to test her powers.

  But us? We’re new. I may work for the Camaraderie—and they keep the Community running smoothly, but I can’t forget their name and what Commander Rick allowed Lady Winters to do to me and Val.

  “I’d still prefer to keep this between us,” I say sternly. I lean into Val’s ear, feeling the softness of her cheek against mine. “I’ll explain later,” I whisper.

  As you wish, Master Zaytsev. We will remove this incident from our records.

  “Thank you.”

  Val frowns. “Can it do that?”

  I link to the programming to check, but since I gave it permission to reprogram itself, it seems entirely possible that it can adjust its logs, too. Not the most comforting thought, especially when I find that that references to the child… my child… are completely gone.

  I nod. “I guess so. Why don’t you tell me about your mission?”

  As long as we’re not thinking about the child directly, a wandering telepath isn’t likely to pick up on our news. They have no reason to suspect we’re hiding anything. I smile weakly as Val links her arm in mine and we leave the Legion Spore behind us.

  “Well,” she says, her face still pale from the news and my choice to erase the info, “our mission was successful. Seems I’ve made a good impression with the Community leaders, anyway.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Her face lights up with a mischievous grin, though her eyes flit between me and the hall doors we pass. “You’ve got to see this.” She yanks me down the hall toward her room. Once there, she pushes a tablet into my hands. On the screen is a pair of leaders I don’t recognize, each posed seductively with wide, alluring grins and long, pointed canines.

  I stifle a half-choked laugh. “Val—”

  She shows me her teeth. “Fangs are all the rage. De
ntal surgery… who knows what they’ll come up with next!” She laughs and flops on the bed.

  “So that’s how you’re explaining the teeth.” I smirk. Doesn’t surprise me. Fashion isn’t efficient for citizens, but leaders do whatever holds their audience’s attention the longest.

  “Better than wearing false teeth.” Val swings her feet from the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “The Community leaders are so easy to manipulate. I mean, they’re smart… they really are, but they’re…” She fishes for the word as I sit beside her.

  “Figureheads?” I ask. That’s exactly what I can’t be—what I don’t want to be. I can’t work on the Legion Spore forever. I’ve got to improve the Community and maintain my relationship with Val and…

  Blood rushes from my cheeks. She’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father. I’m going to have a child of my own. Someone to raise and care for and feed and clothe and who knows how I’m actually supposed to do all of that if I’m trying to keep the Legion Spore running smoothly and what if the glitches aren’t done by the time the child is born or what if there’s a defect and the child has some kind of mental issue because I’m pretty sure Val isn’t going to want to go the Community route and simply abort it and try again but I’m not sure what Commander Rick will think because it’s certainly not efficient but then we’re leaders so they might have someone else taking care of the child but then that means I might not be a very good father and—

  “Are you listening to me?”

  My attention snaps to Val, who scowls with her arms crossed over her breasts. I swallow hard. “We’re going to be parents.”

  She blinks, then nods once. “Yes. But if you don’t want the Camaraderie knowing about that, you’re going to have to put that in the back of your mind. Remember how they knew that you killed Brainmaster?”

  My blood drains to my feet. They might already know. What if one of their life-spirit elementals has already figured it out? What if they expect us to tell them? What happens if they find out we haven’t? What if—

  Val lays a hand on my arm. “It’s going to be okay, Tim. For now, listen to my story, okay? Focus on me?”

 

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