Kiera grabbed the edge and hauled herself up onto dry concrete. She curled up against the dingy wall, dripping and shivering. The thin fabric of her saturated dress clung like a second skin. “You made me jump in the toilet.”
“Nothing you or your family added to that water was still there when you jumped in.”
She gulped. “W-what was that stuff they shot at me? Felt like I hugged a cactus naked.”
“Electrical-based pacification weapon. You would probably call it a taser, only instead of barbed projectiles connected by wires, they fire micronized darts with embedded single-use power cells.”
“Okay, whatever.” She shivered. “Are… my parents okay?”
Pet swiveled back and forth. “If the androids wished to kill them, they would not have been using stunners. I believe they were after you, and have no reason to harm your parents.”
Kiera hugged her knees tight to her chest, nurturing a tiny glow of warm hope. “Now what?”
“Rest. You are exhausted.”
After wringing her dress out, Kiera put it back on, sat, and hid her face against her knees. Droplets trickled down her legs. Every breath brought the taste of damp moss to her tongue.
“You should try to sleep. It is still the middle of the night,” said Pet.
Kiera shivered, teeth clicking. “Even if I wasn’t scared to death and worried about my parents, I would still have trouble falling asleep on concrete.” She closed her eyes, picturing the amazing bed she used to have in… virtual reality. A hazy world where she’d been eleven years old for more than one year. Could that fake life have been overwriting her real memories? No… virtual reality doesn’t work like that. It was real time… compressed, but real time. Not like a memory implant.
“Pet?”
“Yes?”
She lifted her head to look at it. “That tank was a virtual reality machine, right? They didn’t just implant memories or make me forget stuff, did they? Why can’t I remember the real world?”
Pet swiveled side to side. “No, Kiera. The VR is not a memory implant. I believe your forgetting what happened before is a side effect of cryogenic preservation coupled with spending too much time in a semi-preserved state.”
She gulped. “How long was I half-frozen?”
“You were much more than half frozen. The system placed you in a state where your brain could process virtual reality, but your life functions were slowed almost to a standstill. You did not effectively age, though you did expel waste about once every five weeks.”
She gazed down. “You didn’t answer me. How long was I in sixth grade?”
“You experienced the school year ten times over the course of about two real years.”
“Ten times?” She stared. “No wonder it felt so messed up. But I’m still eleven?”
“Yes, your body was preserved. Two years is the limit of the technology. After that long in semi-awareness, it would have needed to fully thaw you or risk serious damage to your body. It is not safe to return to full preservation from that state. Since you were kept like that until the very limit, I am not surprised you have memory loss. Also, many repetitions of the same events have created stronger memories which drown out the past like holding a candle against the sun.”
She shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth. “Is that what the game meant when it said I didn’t have enough time left?”
“Probably.”
“But…” She scrunched up her nose at the cube. “Why did it matter if I beat General Xax? That last day at school, everyone—even the lunch lady—kept asking about the game.”
“I don’t know.” Pet bobbed up a bit, an attempt at a shrug. “Maybe they just wanted you to finish it before you had to be unplugged. You know, so you didn’t go around moping about being cheated out of victory.”
She let her face down against her knees again, closing her eyes. I can’t win. Either too hot to sleep or too cold. “Why did the tank flush me like a turd?”
“That is the typical procedure for when the occupant becomes deceased.”
“I’m not dead.” Kiera tried to squeeze herself into a tighter ball from the cold. “Am I? Is this some kind of messed-up purgatory thing?”
Pet hovered near her shoulder. “While my sensors lack any way to perceive things of a supernatural nature, I am quite sure you are alive and not in any manner of alternate dimension.”
“Great. So… why did it flush me like a dead turd instead of opening?”
“I don’t know. But I agree that it is strange.”
She sighed.
“Kiera?” asked Pet.
“Hmm?”
The cube nudged the side of her head like an affectionate cat. “I don’t think you’re a turd.”
She smiled into her legs. “Thanks.”
27
Broken Home
Kiera startled awake with a gasp, jerking upright. Her cheeks peeled away from her knees with a sting somewhere past uncomfortable but not quite painful. Heart racing, she looked around, trying to remember how she wound up sitting in cold, total darkness. Her dress had almost dried, except for where still-damp hair pressed it against her back. She slid a hand down her leg to her feet and tried to rub warmth into her numb toes.
Robots. Swimming away from stunners.
Parents.
“Pet?” asked Kiera, her voice shivering along with her.
Her small, cube-shaped friend floated into the air at her left. The sudden appearance of blue light from its thruster made her flinch. “Yes. I am here. I landed so you could sleep.”
Kiera grasped the four-inch cube and pulled it into a hug, sniffling. “Thanks for staying with me.”
“You’re welcome.” Pet brushed itself at her chin. “There is a way to the surface further ahead, and you won’t have to swim.”
She relaxed the embrace a moment later, letting Pet float back up. “Please go check on my parents. Tell them I’m okay?”
“Be right back.” Pet zipped off to the left.
A halo of light slid away down a dingy, concrete shaft with square walls and a rounded ceiling. Dark water rippled and glittered below. Soon, the tiny robot glided far enough away that the passage became dark again. Kiera stood, keeping one hand on the wall, and stretched. She tried to rub the cold out of her rear end where the concrete had drained all the warmth.
How long was I asleep?
Her breaths echoed in the underground passage, joining a song of dripping and burbling water. Worry for her parents built, making her sick to her stomach. She paced in tiny steps back and forth, fearful of tripping into an icy bath. The minuscule glow of the laser pistol’s energy display on the ground nearby tinted her feet green.
“Guess it’s waterproof.”
She faced the direction she believed to be deeper into the tunnel. Why didn’t the robots come after me from the other side?
Blue light appeared in the distance after a few minutes. Pet bobbed into view, skimming along the ceiling over the water. She stared at it, kneading her hands in anxiety. When the little robot glided over to her and pressed itself to her chest, she burst into sobs. It trying to hug her couldn’t be good news.
Kiera grasped it, sank to her knees, and bawled.
“I’m sorry… they’re not there.”
“W-what?” She coughed away tears. “Not dead?”
Pet struggled to twist side to side, a headshake. “No. At least I don’t believe so. I did not detect any blood. Your parents are missing.”
Shaking, she forced herself to stand, picked up the laser, and started to walk back, but turned and went three steps the other way before stopping. Pet kept close to her head, following her pacing. Her hands trembled; her chest tightened. “No… I don’t want to be alone.”
Pet nudged her shoulder. “You aren’t alone.”
Two grateful tears slipped out. “I’m scared.”
“I would be as well if I were capable of being frightened.” The cube nuzzled against her cheek.
Kiera thought… and thought. “Maybe… maybe they think the robots got me and went home all sad?” The idea of her parents believing her dead or abducted weighed like a stone where her heart should be. “I should go home.”
“Is that wise?” asked Pet. “The robots can find you there.”
She brushed grit off her sole, one hand on the wall for balance. “I don’t think they’d expect me to go back there so soon. And if Mom and Dad think the robots got me, they wouldn’t stay here in hiding. Besides, you can detect the robots from far away, right? You can warn me.”
“All right.” Pet hovered up to her shoulder.
Kiera crept along the narrow sidewalk running parallel to the water. “How far is it? It felt like it took us all day to get here.”
“Your father’s injury slowed you down. You were all walking at the speed of his limp. I think you can make it home in about two hours. Less if you run, but there is no need to make yourself tired. Also, if there is danger at the house, you would need to be able to run. If you are already tired….”
“Yeah, I get it.” She grasped a tuft of her hair and showed it to pet. “I’m not blonde.”
“What does that have to do with running now or later?” asked Pet.
Kiera laughed nervously. “I’m making a stupid joke to try and not think about how scared and worried I am right now. This girl Brittany in school? She’s a blonde, and she’s every stereotype you can think of. Such an airhead.”
“You realize those children were only computer programs.”
“Yeah.” Kiera grinned, eyes locked on the ground so she didn’t step on anything foul. She placed her feet one in front of the next, following a wavering path of dry concrete between piles of gunk. “I guess they were stereotypes on purpose. Sometimes I felt like I was stuck in a crappy sitcom. Some of the stuff that happened… It makes sense now. I was stuck in a TV show. Ashley seemed different, but maybe only ’cause she was my best friend. But I guess Ash had been a stereotype too. Fashion-obsessed tween.”
Pet giggled. “That dress was on sale for $180.”
Kiera stared at Pet. “What?”
“I have access to the logs.” The floating cube bobbed up and spun rapidly for a second before stabilizing.
“Did that needle in my brain hurt me?”
“Unlikely. The cortical interface lance is extremely thin. Once it is inserted to the proper depth, wires thinner than human hairs emerge from the tip and make connections enabling it to feed you sensory information to create a virtual world. Have you ever heard of the ‘brain-in-a-jar’ theory?”
Kiera glanced at Pet. “I’m eleven. Sixth grade. I may have repeated it ten times, but I’m still a sixth-grader. So, no… And that sounds disgusting.”
“It’s not a literal brain in a jar.” Pet wobbled side to side, a smile. “It’s a philosophical scenario. A brain, removed from a body and placed in a jar while connected to a computer or other machine that simulates reality, would not know that it is a brain in a jar and believe the simulation to be reality.”
“Oh.” Kiera shrugged while walking. “I dunno about brain in a jar, but what about ‘kid in a tank of goop?’ I’ve seen that one.”
Pet giggled.
“Are you a kid too, or do you just sound like it?”
The cube glided side to side, playing in the air. “I was designed with this voice to be pleasant to a wider selection of people. It is considered ‘cute and appealing.’ Each pet cube has a distinct personality that evolves based on our interactions with people. If you do not like my voice, you can change it. I can sound like an adult—man or woman—or an old person if you like. Or even a tiny child.”
Kiera stopped, staring at a long stretch of nasty on the ground. “Eww. What is that? And no, your voice is cool. I like it.”
“It appears to be a mixture of dirt, moss, mold, and… well, the decades-old decomposing remains of rats and other small animals. I take that back. Decomposed. They are not capable of rotting to any greater degree.”
“Ugh.”
Even a running jump would land her in the middle of it, so she gritted her teeth and advanced, shoulders scrunched up. Wet, slimy brown funk oozed between her toes with each step. Disturbing it lofted a smell like a dead bird found in the attic. She held her breath, all the muscles in her back tensed, arms raised in disgust. Once she cleared the swath of ick, about ten paces later, she spent a moment swishing one foot then the other back and forth in the water to wash them.
Pet zipped ahead a little ways, and hung in space by a pipe opening high on the wall to the right. “In here.”
“Really?” Kiera padded over and stood on tiptoe to stare into an opening about two feet wide. “It’s dark and small.”
“The passage ahead caves in. You could climb this pipe or swim back up and go out the way you came in. This way does not involve soaking yourself again.”
“Again? I’m still damp.” She sighed. “Fine.”
Kiera set the laser pistol in first before grabbing the edge of the pipe and pulling herself up, toes seeking purchase in gaps between bricks. Grunting, she wriggled in, pushing the laser forward as she flattened herself out atop a thin layer of dried mud. The narrow passage didn’t give her enough room to get up on her hands and knees. Pet drifted over her and led the way as she elbow crawled forward.
“What time is it?” asked Kiera. “How long did I sleep?”
Pet stopped and spun to face her. “It’s 9:07 a.m. You slept from 2:18 a.m. until 8:44 a.m.”
“Wow… So long.” She pulled herself onward, walking on her forearms down the narrow pipe. “Are you sure I’m not still in some simulation? How did I go from boring suburbs to stuck in a sewer?”
“The VR simulation ended,” said Pet. “Your pod was nearly out of power.”
Kiera sighed. “Thanks. Umm… this pipe isn’t going to like fill up with water when I’m in it, right? That’s like major nightmare stuff.”
“If it begins to rain hard, there might be water, but I do not think the pipe would fill all the way.”
She shuddered and crawled faster, determined gasps echoing for what seemed like miles.
At 9:28 a.m. according to Pet, a patch of sunlight came into view up ahead where the pipe curved around a ninety-degree right and canted upward. Kiera squirmed past the curve, adoring the warmth of the concrete around her body. It took less than a minute to crawl up the ascending part to an opening full of daylight. Grinning, she shimmied out into a tall, rectangular chamber full of silt, plastic bottles, a few Starbucks cups, and fast food burger cartons. She stood, gazing up at a storm drain opening.
“Oh wow. Thanks for the climbing classes, Dad.” She sighed. Confused, she twisted to stare at Pet. “How am I… I mean… I floated in a tank for a long time.” She lifted her dress to expose well-defined muscles on her stomach. “How am I like this? I wasn’t even this über in real life.” She let the dress fall back in place.
Pet tapped itself into her arm. “Before the tank released you, it gave you injections that conditioned your muscles and helped you recover from remaining still so long. During the time you were in VR, the system provided you the bare minimum of nutrients, so you lost some weight.”
“Some weight? I’m a stick figure.” She grumbled, but froze as a memory of Bio-Mom needling her over calories came back. I don’t think I was heavy, but I definitely wasn’t ripped like this. She glanced at her noodle arms. Okay, maybe I’m not ripped, but….
“You are healthy.” Pet floated straight up to the opening and went out. A moment later, it reappeared. “I don’t see any threats.”
“Right. Uhh… how am I gonna do this without losing the gun?”
A tiny gripper clamp sprang out of Pet’s side. “I will hold it for you. It’s not too heavy for me.”
The base of the pistol’s handle had a small ring intended for a lanyard or something, which Pet closed its tiny pincer on. Swaying from the weight, the cube flew up and out.
Kiera wi
ped her hands on her arms to get rid of gooey moss, eyed the underside of the storm drain, and jumped. Her first attempt slapped concrete. She squatted deeper on the second try, leaping up as hard as she could shove with her legs. Her fingertips caught the ridge of the metal opening, and held. Feet skidding over the wall, she roared with determination and pulled herself up. Hot, humid air blasted her in the face when she stuck her head out, pushing the chill of the sewer back down into the darkness below.
She slithered onto the soft silt and rolled over onto her back, basking in the heat of day.
Pet dropped the laser on her belly.
“Oof.” She grabbed it with both hands. “Thanks.”
Within minutes, the ice thawed from her bones. She stood, shaking her head back and forth so the wind caught and dried her hair.
Desolation surrounded her, but the patch of forest at the end of the artificial river remained visible as a dark stretch in the distance to her right. A few piles of rubble dotted the area, but nothing had even enough structure to count as ‘used to be a building.’
“Guess it’s that way?” She pointed at the trees.
Pet wobbled. “Yes.”
She smacked her lips, thirsty. “Okay.”
Walking at a brisk stride, Kiera followed Pet across the desert, reaching the edge of the trees in about twenty minutes. Random thuds and snaps kept her spinning, frightened that a pack of wild dogs might find her tasty. Over dozens of scares, only once did she spot anything alive: another boar, this one big enough to ride. It faced her and made a threatening noise, but didn’t chase her when she ran. She slowed to a jog, then a walk as soon as she felt confident it wouldn’t come after her.
“I’m so thirsty….”
Pet drifted to the right. “We are close to the water.”
The cube led her through the woods to the edge of a giant lake surrounded on all sides by trees. She crouched, ankle deep at the bank, and drank handfuls. A heavy snorting grunt startled her paralyzed, water dribbling out of her palms. When it happened again a moment later, she raised her head.
Citadel: The Concordant Sequence Page 26