I take a deep breath. As far as I can tell, the Manticore is still struggling with the denial-of-service attack. Once it tries to revert itself, it’s going to suffer a nasty crash… a far bigger glitch than any of the previous ones.
I drop the shield. A swirling purple mass opens before me, and I rush through it into a dinky command room with unfinished walls and a metal grate for a floor.
Master Zaytsev… The first Legion Spore sounds puzzled, even embarrassed. We did not realize you were coming for a visit. The musculature of its walls transforms into elegant leather while the metal grate smooths over with fine ivory. We apologize for our previous appearance. You caught us unaware.
I laugh, amazed, and sink into the command chair. “You are absolutely forgiven. I just wish the Manticore was more like you.”
Once I’ve had a chance to calm myself, the original Legion Spore asks me questions—why its brethren attacked me, why I sabotaged the vessel, and why my latest program prevented it from alerting its superiors to my escape.
Lady Salazar will be worried for your safety, it concludes, the disharmonized voices playing like a soft violin.
I down a glass of water and wince from brain freeze. “Where is she now?”
We believe she is located at the Camaraderie of Evil’s Cuban base. We can check—
“Please do.” After another glass of water, I return to the command center. Bright, mid-afternoon light assaults my eyes. The Legion Spore no longer looks like the ill-construed mess of leatherwork it had when I first started this project. Its ivory console meshes perfectly with the contours of the wall. Its leathery skin is firm to the touch. I trace my fingers along the pebbled surface. My work has paid off, just in time for me to leave.
Lady Salazar just left the base’s hangar.
I turn sharply. She got my message. “Erase the security log; make it look like the hangar has been empty during the occupied periods.”
Objective complete.
“New question: where could we go to hide from the Camaraderie of Evil and the Manticore? We need someplace to stay while I work on a way to make the Manticore safe.”
By our calculations, the nearest location would be Australia, at the rebels’ original headquarters. The tower is broken, but the ruins may hold defensive pockets which would make for a small stronghold.
I locate the indicated marker. “Thank you.” I stand. “Please create a portal from here to the Cuban base—Lady Salazar’s quarters. I would like to return to Val.”
Yes, Master Zaytsev.
The portal opens.
“Legion Spore—” I pause. “Thank you. I much prefer working with you than the Manticore.” A sense of telepathic pleasure emanates from the vessel, and I step through the portal. Though the Legion Spore won’t remember where I’m going, it will remember the rest of this conversation, and my gratitude.
Val swoops into my arms, her fingers strung through my hair. “You’re alive!” Her frizzy hair envelops my nose. I hold her close. “I saw your message. I’ve found a small jet that isn’t on the scheduled daily roster. Full tank… everything’s prepped.”
I search her eyes. “Are you sure you want to go?” I ask, but I know she doesn’t have much of a choice. Either she comes with me or the Manticore targets her and our child. I touch my hand to her stomach. She strokes my cheek, her nails tickling my skin. I shudder, then clasp her hands in mine. “I don’t know how long I’ve managed to distract it.”
She unfastens the ruby pendant from her neck and lays it on the table. She goes for mine, and I shake my head. The corners of her lips turn into a frown.
“Tim—”
I rest my hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Keep yours. I’m taking mine.”
“They’ll come after you.”
“Once this is over, I want to come back. There’s a lot we can do here, but I can’t let them create another Legion Spore vessel until they can see what’s going on.” Not that they’ll have much of a chance if the ship goes rogue.
Val looks to her ruby pendant. Its chain dangles innocently from the edge of the desk. “If we leave the pendants here, they won’t have a reason to follow.”
“If we take it with us,” I counter, “the Camaraderie won’t be able to create a third Legion Spore. Besides, it doesn’t matter. The Manticore will get them to search for us. We just need to stay one step ahead. We’ll get somewhere safe, and then try to contact Commander Rick. If that fails, then we’ll create our own team, defeat the Manticore, and then explain ourselves after all this is over.”
Her lips twist into a frown. “Okay.”
I use techno sight to make sure the hall is clear. We run down the corridor. I sense movement from the cameras and I yank Val into my arms, grabbing her in a deep kiss as Stuart passes us at the cross-section. Warmth floods through me from Val’s soft lips, though her eyes are wide with fear. I’m sure I look the same, and a quick glance at the servant tells me he’s looking right at us. Val is too warm against me, and I’m not sure how long I can hold the charade of a passionate embrace…
The servant wanders on his way, hands behind his back in perfect posture. I hold Val against me until he’s gone. Then we run at a full sprint. He’s a telepath. If he has any suspicion we’re running, he knows. Granted, if he has any idea of what’s really going on, I doubt he’s surprised.
We reach the hangar bay and I enter the key code, my fingers fumbling to find the right combination. It takes two tries, and I clear the cache mentally as the door slides open. A gush of warm wind rushes past. A thick veil of gathering thunderheads obscures the remaining daylight, and the afternoon is dark, heavy with the potential for rain.
“Lead the way,” I tell Val.
She pulls my wrist and leads me to a small jet on the far side of the hangar. We slip inside. She preps the engines. I link my mind into the jet’s computer, locking out two locator chips and one hidden tracking device. I create a technological barrier to keep us from being traced. The cold, lifeless system feels hollow after the pulsing energy of the Legion Spores. The engines rumble, our seats jolting underneath us. “We need a couple minutes for the engine to warm up for everything to function properly,” Val says, taking the throttle and checking that I’m all right. I mentally lock the hangar doors.
Last time we ran, I did the piloting. That was the rebels’ flying car.
Now I’m running from the Camaraderie.
The jet kicks and lifts from the ground. I grip the fabric seat. “Here we go,” Val whispers. We shoot away, leaving the one place that still accepts us. My heart sinks. Hopefully I can find a way to fix the Manticore without involving anyone else, but with its powers, it’s entirely possible that once it overrides my programming, it will convince the council that I’m the traitor. What if it goes beyond that, and starts manipulating them for its own gain? I’m not sure what it could possibly want aside from revenge, but if it turns the Camaraderie against us, I’m going to need all the help I can get.
It’s possible that I might be able to get some help from Jenna. If I can reason with her and warn her of how the Manticore could jeopardize the Community, maybe she’ll join my cause.
But that’s if I can find her. Hopefully it won’t come to that. With luck, maybe the other council members will figure out how to stop the Manticore on their own.
Val lays her hand on my arm. “What are we going to tell Lady Black and the commander?” She glances at me, her dark brown eyes made darker by the dim light of the cockpit. The jet is on autopilot.
I squirm, trying to make myself comfortable in a chair meant to keep its occupant awake. “We tell them the truth. Once we’re safely hidden away, I’ll send them a message explaining everything. We’ll tell them that we plan on returning to the Camaraderie once this is over, but right now, they have a bigger enemy… we all do.”
If the Manticore goes completely rogue, none of us are safe.
Harsh sunlight filters through the jet despite the tinted window. I’ve
managed to take a brief nap, but most of our ride has been taken in silence, staring at the ocean below.
Now the edge of a land mass is visible, a desolate sandy shore. The screen of the GNSS, the Global Navigation Satellite System, reveals our mark. As we fly closer, the shimmer of a dark, broken object juts through the barren outback.
Val takes the controls and I stretch my powers in search of technology. Beyond the jet, the desert is empty. Still, something tickles the edge of my mind, growing stronger as we near the remnants of the tower. A few hints of technology remain in the vestiges of the forgotten headquarters, old computers stripped of any information that would be helpful. But the tickling sensation isn’t from there.
I direct Val to go west, and the sensation grows.
Somewhere out there is another vessel.
“Stay out of their scanner’s range,” I note. “I don’t want to attract unwanted attention.” I close my eyes, using the ship’s communications to reach the larger vessel. The thing’s a hybrid jet of South African make, one that’s complaining of a low fuel tank. I rub Val’s heart locket between my fingers. The complaint is purely mechanical, no AI. The tickle comes from a much more familiar source—an invisibility generator. The generator isn’t running at the moment, but we’re too far out to see them, anyway. There’s something else, though. Smaller, familiar.
I blink, startled from my search.
Val tilts her head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. More than okay.” I tap into the offending technology—sense out the camera, then look through the lens. The camera lies against pocket fibers, a hazy image of a tall woman sitting in the pilot’s chair. An unfamiliar voice asks if anyone hears a beeping—the low fuel indicator—and then Jenna’s voice confirms she does.
I grin. “It’s the rebels. Jenna’s out there, and she has my old tablet.”
Val’s eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod. The camera’s view adjusts as they search for the source of the warning indicator. Now’s my chance. I’m not keen on speaking with the rebels, but maybe Jenna can work with me from a different angle. I focus on a screen in plain view, their GNSS, and scramble the code into Russian so Jenna has a chance to realize who I am.
The COE made a second Legion Spore. Val and I are having a baby. We need help.
Needles of pain rack my head. I gasp, yanked from the system. The screen on our navigation panel flashes and dies.
Val rattles the controls. “It’s not responding,” she whispers, urgent.
I try to focus on the jet so I can get the message back in order, but I feel like cotton balls are scrubbing the inside of my brain.
Pong—the little white ball sags and thuds uselessly to the ground.
Centipede turns into a terrifying array of pink squiggles.
Tetris—I’m crushed under the weight of blocks twice my size.
Solitaire—Commander Rick clucks his tongue from the king’s card.
“One of the Legion Spores found us.” I can’t breathe. Community, why didn’t I shield the navigation system? I struggle out of my seat.
Val turns. “Where are you going?” she protests, her eyes wide with panic. “We’re dead in the air!”
I nod, searching the compartments for anything that might be useful. Bottled injections, shields… but there are only rations and a medical kit. A couple parachutes, but that would make us visible targets. By now I imagine the Legion Spore—I’m not sure which one—has already narrowed our location to an exact point.
WE ARE LEGION.
The voices sear my mind and I collapse in twisting, convulsing pain. Limbs merging into a solid form… Retinas burning as lasers shoot from our eyes… Voices cold, indiscriminate…
The attack cedes and I let out a breath, numb. I’m far too familiar with the technique. Val’s face has drained of color. She stares in horror through the window at the barren land below.
“Val—” I push myself to my feet, shaky. “It’s just an illusion. Just the outward attack, meant to stave off potential hackers and telepaths. It’s where I put the vessel’s pain.” I remove my tablet from the chair and link it via wireless connections to Jenna’s tablet. I transfer the files about the Manticore.
A portal opens in front of our ship and a tentacle extends through. “There are parachutes—” I start to say, but Val shakes her head, her eyes wide. There’s not enough time. I try once more to get our jet’s systems under our control. My mind goes blank. I don’t remember what I’m searching for, and when I remove myself from the system, I’m still locked out.
I close my hand around Val’s. “I’m sorry.”
She gnaws at her lip, frantically searching the dash for anything useful. I link to the rebels’ GNSS via my tablet. There’s no guarantee they got my first message, not if the Legion Spore interfered.
The COE made a second Legion Spore. Val is having a baby. We tried to escape. Failed. Please help.
I cut the connection. Mentally scramble their signal, so the Legion Spore vessel won’t be so quick to find them. The ship’s portal envelops the jet and then we’re above the sea, our transport wrapped in tentacles below the living airship.
Val rushes across the divide between our chairs and sidles into my lap, her arms around my neck. My body trembles. A small portal opens beside me and a thin, translucent tentacle slips through. I stare at it, horrified. If the Manticore found us, then we might not live much longer. I squeeze Val’s hand as the tentacle splits into two. One tendril wraps around my wrist, the other around Val’s. She swallows hard, her throat moving subtly under her bronze skin.
We materialize inside a vessel with leather walls and a familiar, warm light.
I let out a breath. This is the first Legion Spore. We’re not facing endless torture on our return trip.
Commander Rick strides out from the command room and halts before us. Val’s breath comes short. “Master Zaytsev,” he says, “you are wanted for treason and sabotage. Lady Salazar, you are accused of aiding and abetting a traitor.”
I sink against the floor. A traitor is all I’ve ever been. Legion Spore, I think, trying to communicate via techno sight.
The commander’s mustache twitches. The CLS Legion Spore will not answer to you, Timothy.
Our apologies, Master Zaytsev. You always were the kinder one. The voices are strained against their will, their resentment tight. Not toward me. They’re sorry—and relief floods through me like a crashing wave.
Val bites her lip. “Please—you have to listen to him. The Manticore—”
The commander tucks his hands behind his stiff back, his eyes narrowed at the both of us. “The Manticore acted in self-defense against Timothy’s sabotage, and it is still working though the recent attack. Legion—”
“Read my mind, please!” My heart crashes against my chest. “Look at the past two days. The Manticore is trying to kill me—trying to kill Val. It wants revenge. It’s been manipulating you, Commander. Please. I’ll submit to a full examination. Just do it before we return to the base.”
Commander Rick’s forehead wrinkles and I feel him in my head. I show him the taunts and the attack. My sabotage.
“Intriguing.” He strokes his beard thoughtfully.
“The first one is fine,” I continue. “It’s got a few glitches, but they can be resolved. The personality is caused by a layer of programming that Lady Winters snuck in.”
The commander eyes the two of us under the brim of his safari hat. I hold Val tighter.
“It would be unwise to believe thought alone,” the commander says. “However, I will launch an investigation into the Manticore’s behavior. In the event that you are telling the truth, we will determine how to proceed with your attempted sabotage from there.”
“Thank you, sir.” I lick my lips. “Sir?”
“Yes, Timothy?”
I cringe at the lack of title. “The Manticore is using the hubs to extend its powers. Once we go back, if it’s worked through my last program, it may try
to attack us, including you.”
Commander Rick raises an eyebrow. “I have more than enough experience in how to keep a hub under control,” he reminds me. “All the same, I appreciate your candidness. Legion Spore—return us to base.”
Another portal looms in the window, and then we’re in the Cuban hangar bay. A pair of Special Forces agents wait beside the door, and a third has the injection in hand. I pull Val closer, listening to her panicked breathing. “I love you,” I whisper.
Her voice catches. “I love you too, Tim.”
“Walk,” Commander Rick says firmly. I grimace. My rubbery legs can stand again. Val and I support each other, trudging through the back hatch of the jet and into the chilled air. The agent flicks the needle free of bubbles.
Legion Spore—please. If there’s anything you can do to protect us—
Unfortunately, we cannot, as much as it pains us to be unable to do so. Perhaps the best thing is simply to remember. The airy voices bring the image of Martinez to me, a fluttering memory of holding Emily Black and his promise that he loves her.
“Please separate.” The male agent steps up to me and Val, his eyes hidden beneath his dark visor.
“No,” Val says urgently, “the vision—”
I tighten my shaking hand around Val’s and attempt to meet the agent’s eyes through his visor. “I won’t fight you, but I will remain at her side.” I press my lips together. This one thing—then they can search my memories all they like.
The agent glances at Commander Rick. “Sir?”
“I’ll cooperate with your investigation,” I say. I know he’s reading my thoughts. Val leans closer, shivering, the flowery scent of her lily perfume permeating the air.
Commander Rick inclines his head, and the agent inserts the needle into the vein in my neck. The liquid’s cold. The sense of technology ebbs until there’s nothing left but a large, resonating shell around me. Val and I hold each others’ gaze as they give her the injection, and she looks lost, confused. Her sense of electricity, the loss of intuition…
The Glitch Saga- The Complete Collection Page 38