by David Meyer
Returning the empty canteen to his cloak, he twisted back to the crater. After leaving his people, he’d gotten low and crawled across the desert. He’d drawn as close to the crater as he dared, then set about covering himself up with tons and tons of sand. It gave him cover, while also helping to shield him from the heat.
He’d lay there for a long time—it felt like hours—silently baking away. Eventually, the setting sun slipped over the horizon. And then, at last, Dargon had appeared.
At first, the man’s interest in the crater had confused Titus. But with time, he’d come to understand it. The Naticans had built a good lead on the Banished and would almost certainly have beaten them back to the fort.
At the same time, the light had come from Natica. For all Dargon knew, the Naticans had built some kind of terrible weapon, one capable of multi-mile strikes. With all this in mind, the man had good reason to abandon his pursuit, to instead investigate the crater.
Dargon hiked to the lip of the crater. Titus couldn’t see his face from this distance, but he perked up when the man lurched backward. Immediately, the rest of the Banished took a few steps back as well.
Planting his feet, Dargon came to a halt. He locked his gaze on the crater. His body became perfectly still.
What’s he looking at? Titus wondered, craning his neck.
Twenty seconds later, his question was answered when gold sand, swirling in tight circles, appeared. Rocketing up the side of the crater, it stopped at the lip.
That’s a sandswarm, Titus thought. One without a drystorm.
For a full minute, the sandswarm remained there, unmoving, while its gold innards churned at blinding speed. Then it shifted again, heading around the lip.
The Banished backed up some more. Dargon, meanwhile, held his ground.
The sandswarm stopped some ten feet away. Its edges began to loosen. Its swirling gold grains extended outward.
“Get out of there,” Quantic shouted.
But Dargon remained utterly still.
He’s as good as dead, Titus thought.
He felt a twinge of sadness. Not because the man was about to die, though. If anyone deserved to die, it was Dargon.
No, the real issue was that this felt so … empty. Only then did Titus understand the true depth of his feelings. He despised his brother. Loathed him, hated him. That was the real reason he’d been chasing the Banished these last six months. He didn’t just want Dargon to die.
He wanted to be the man’s executioner.
He wanted to thrust a blade deep into his chest. He wanted to step back, watch the man bleed out, watch him perish.
Titus started to rise, causing millions of grains to slide off of his back. His ultra-dry mouth opened wide, ready to scream, “Get out of there.”
But then, the sandswarm began to morph, to change shape, to become, well, something else.
Eyes wide, Titus watched the gold sand form a block. Fierce winds started to shape it. The block cinched in the middle. It flowed outward at the corners. At the top, sand fell away, forming a sphere.
Thin layers of sand began to sweep over the block, leaving behind all sorts of little details. Things like hair with fancy curls. Clothes. Bracelets and other pieces of jewelry, all made from sand. Such things didn’t exist in Natica. He was only aware of them because of Kayden.
It’s a woman, he realized.
Shocked, he tried to comprehend what had happened. Clearly, this woman, this creature of the desert, came from Luminosity. She was a digital being, made physical by the interaction of that terrible light and the sandswarm.
But who was she? How had she come to inhabit the sandswarm? And why?
The waves of sand slowed as the woman took on her final form. She looked very much like a real person, albeit one made completely of gold grains. More gold grains, swirling, shifting, and vibrating, covered her in a light haze.
For a while, she stood there, in all of her glory, a sandswarm come to life.
“Hello,” she said at last. Her thundering voice, strong and feminine, carried far across the land, all the way to Titus’ waiting ears. He found her tone warm and gentle, yet oddly lacking in feeling. “I’m Cormella Dodge.”
Until that very moment, Titus had considered standing up, calling to the woman. After all, she came from Luminosity so he’d thought of her as an ally. But hearing her name gave him pause. He’d never met Cormella. But he’d heard enough to know she was trouble.
Dargon studied her for a long moment. “I’m Dargon,” he said, raising his volume to match hers. “Dargon Foster.”
“You’re from Natica, I take it?”
“Not anymore.”
She cocked her head. “Oh?”
“They banished me. Now, I live here. In the hinterlands.” He gestured at the desert. Then he gazed at her reverently, as one might look upon a goddess. “What are you?”
“That’s difficult to answer. But I’m from a place called Luminosity.”
Even from this distance, Titus could see the man’s eyes pop out of their sockets. Dargon knew Luminosity had existed in the distant past. But this was the first time he’d heard that it was still around.
“I watched a presentation about Luminosity,” he replied. “The speaker—Emma Andale—claimed it was a digital city.”
“That’s correct.”
“So, you’re a … person?”
“Yes. And no.”
“I don’t understand.”
She tilted her head to one side as if deep in thought. “I’m made from computer code, but with a brain very much like your own. All in all, it’s probably easier if you think of me as a person.”
“I see.” He exhaled. “Are you here to kill me?”
She shook her head. “Why would I want to do that?”
“You’re from Luminosity.” He shrugged. “So, I assume you’re in league with Natica.”
“Don’t assume.” She took a step forward and her body shifted along with her, just as if it were made of flesh and bone. “I take it you don’t like Natica?”
“It’s not that simple.”
She stared at him.
Titus kept his eyes glued on Cormella. All in all, her appearance made him queasy. And he knew better than to trust her. But she had a sparkling way about her, a certain undeniable magnetism.
“People did this.” He swept his hand across the landscape. “Our species turned a once-vibrant world into little more than a lifeless desert.”
“Go on.”
“We don’t deserve to live, not after all we’ve done.” He shrugged. “The slate must be wiped clean. Only when mankind is gone can this world hope to recover.”
“You’re talking about a system reset.”
“A what?”
“Imagine the world as if it were a computer. Imagine you’ve spent eons building an intricate code that suddenly becomes malware. It begins to hurt the computer. Not just other programs, but the computer itself. You try to fix the code, but nothing works. What do you do?”
“You delete the code. Start over.”
“Exactly.” She rubbed her jaw. “I think I can help you.”
“How?”
Ice slipped down Titus’ spine.
“We share a common enemy. Simply put, we both want humanity dead. I can offer you assistance with that. And I can offer you more. You see, I know what caused the Broken. It was computer code, developed by a software engineer named Kayden Kell. With time and space, I can undo it.”
“Is that right?”
“After every last person is gone, I’ll begin to deactivate the code. The Broken will end and the water cycle will repair itself. Life will start anew.” She smiled. “How does that sound to you?”
He stared at her for a long time. Then he exhaled.
“Good,” he said. “Real good.”
Chapter 36
The park was deserted by the time Kayden exited the Skyscraper. So were nearby streets, as far as she could tell. It was difficult to be sure.
It was getting late and as a result, the gas lamps were starting to dim. This emphasized the large black dome, making it look similar to a night sky.
She glanced down at the busted tablet, held tightly in her hands. Cormella was finally gone. Ordinarily, she would’ve cheered the news. Then she would’ve gone back to her laptop and finished up her work on HXO and the Broken.
Instead, she felt more frightened than ever. Partly because Cormella was now out there in the physical world. And partly, because of the woman’s final threat.
Simply put, mankind shouldn’t exist, Cormella had said. It should’ve never existed.
I could say the same thing about artificial intelligence, Kayden had retorted.
I suppose you could. The difference is I’m in a position to do something about it, she’d said, typing rapidly on the tablet. I’m leaving you with something. Something I created for just this very moment. You can try to stop it. In fact, I encourage you to try. That’ll make it far more fun.
I don’t understand.
Oh, you will. Soon enough.
What was that supposed to mean? Of course, it could’ve been a trick, an empty threat. But Kayden couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more challenging.
Cormella’s finally gone, she thought, ruefully. And somehow, we’re worse off for it.
“Well, the dome’s still here.” BeBo emerged through the glass door. Holding it for Jarven, he took in the city. “So is everything else.”
“Maybe she was lying.” Jarven, clutching Virdo’s shirt in a death grip, stepped through the door. He dragged the guy into the middle of the circular colonnade of columns. “You know, just to keep us on edge. Wouldn’t shock me a bit.”
Valhalya was last to leave the Skyscraper. Hiking through the colonnade, she perched herself at the top of the encircling marble steps. “What do we do now?” she wondered.
“We gather everyone up,” Jarven replied. “Tell them the truth. About Cormella, the dish … all of it.”
“Fine by me.” Valhalya glanced at Virdo. “Just so long as we place blame where it’s due.”
His cheeks flushed. Indignantly, he tried to wrench himself away. But Jarven refused to let go of his shirt. “This isn’t my fault,” he said.
BeBo stared at him. “You conspired with our former captor. An A.I. who held us prisoner for centuries.”
“I didn’t know.”
“He’s right,” Kayden said quietly.
BeBo spun toward her. “Huh?”
“He didn’t know.” She shrugged. “How could he?”
“He made up a virus, Kay,” Valhalya said. “And told everyone we had it.”
“Only because he thought we were the bad guys.”
Slowly, Jarven released Virdo’s shirt. The man crumpled to the platform.
Virdo looked up at him, then at the others. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Don’t be sorry,” BeBo said. “Just fix what you did.”
“I … don’t know how.” He slid to a column, set his back against it. “Everyone thinks we’re insane. Driven batty by a computer virus, of all things.”
“Then we’ll have to tell them the truth about that, too,” Kayden said. “It’s the only way.”
“We need to start with friends,” Jarven said. “How about Casper? Maybe Lanika and Rupert, too?”
Six months ago, Casper Kordell, Lanika Ward, and Rupert Hortman had been some of Jarven’s closest friends. They, and others, had helped him fight Cormella and the peacekeepers. But the end of Protocol Forty-Eight changed everything. As folks grew suspicious of Kayden, allies began to drift away, seeking to distance themselves.
“They’re snakes, all of them.” BeBo frowned. “But it’s worth a try.”
Kayden aimed a glance at Virdo. “Will you back us up?”
He nodded.
“Okay, then let’s—”
“Wait.” Valhalya held up a hand. Tipping her head upward, she frowned. “Does anyone else hear that?”
“Hear what?” BeBo asked.
Closing his eyes, Jarven perked his ears.
Kayden closed her eyes as well. She focused her attention on her ears and heard some of Luminosity’s telltale noises. The dull buzz of electricity. The rustle of clothing. A slight breeze in the air. And … wait, was that a scream?
Her brow hardened into a ridge. Straining her ears, she heard a quiet shout. Then a barely-audible yelp.
Tearing her eyelids open, she looked at Valhalya. “I heard screams,” she said breathlessly.
Abruptly, the glass door crashed open.
Kayden spun on her toes. Her jaw fell agape as a crowd of people stormed outside. No, not people.
Peacekeepers.
Peacekeepers were digital beings. But unlike Cormella, they couldn’t really think. As such, they were unable to improvise or evolve. Because of this, Kayden and her friends had taken to calling them, NPCs, or non-playing characters.
Their programming made them predictable. Still, they had the ability to process lots of information at high speeds. And in large numbers, they were extremely dangerous.
Virdo drew his legs in and the peacekeepers passed into the colonnade. They wore matching one-piece uniforms, consisting of black boots, black leggings, dark red body armor, and black helmets with closed visors. For equipment, they carried batons.
Their presence caught Kayden by complete surprise. Valhalya planted her feet, adopting a fighting stance. Jarven and BeBo, meanwhile, put their fists up, daring the peacekeepers to draw near.
As they swept toward her, Kayden cringed and closed her eyes. Holding her breath, she waited for batons to strike her head and shoulders.
But nothing happened.
Confused, she cracked her eyes open. Peacekeepers streamed around her, heading for the stairs. Hitting the ground, they hiked across the park.
Twisting around, she watched the peacekeepers, hundreds of them, march onto the streets. Without slowing or stopping, they continued toward the edges of the city.
The last handful of peacekeepers filtered through the glass door. Like the others, they strode down the steps and disappeared into Luminosity. Before long, they were gone.
Completely baffled, Jarven turned in a circle. “What was that?” he wondered.
BeBo lowered his fists. “Let’s find out.”
Chapter 37
The city felt eerily still. Not a soul passed by as Kayden and her friends trekked down Birch Street. But that didn’t mean things were quiet. Oh, no. Not even close.
Screams, shouts, and shrieks, all filled with abject terror, rocked Kayden’s ears. Amongst this unsettling cacophony, she also heard a series of deep, sustained, crunching noises. Those noises, even more than the terrified yells, made her shiver.
She quickened her step and the others matched her pace. They hurried past a couple of tall buildings, windows thrown open and doors ajar. Food wrappers, books, bags, and other items lay in the street amongst puddles of spilt drinks and melted ice cream cones.
Kayden observed it all with a curious eye. Her fellow residents, by and large, were tidy folks. They weren’t the sort to just throw their trash in the street.
They kept going. Soon, she caught a distant glimpse of Luminites. Close to one hundred people gathered in the middle of Birch Street, a good ways back from the shimmering black dome. They were shouting and yelling themselves hoarse.
Four or five people stood much closer to the dome, on the nearby curving road. Recklessly, they swung and hurled objects at the darkness. Things like chairs, frying pans, and baseball bats. One woman even clutched a long lamp, which she swung overhead.
Jarven arched a quizzical eyebrow. “It looks like they’re attacking the dome.”
BeBo shook his head. “And they thought we were crazy.”
Kayden kept her eyes glued to the scene, watching the Luminites assail the darkness. On second glance, she noticed sparks soaring through the air. She followed them back to thei
r origin point and noticed a figure.
Squinting, she saw a peacekeeper, his outfit blending in with the darkness. Twisting her head, she noticed other peacekeepers. Aiming their batons, they sent showers of sparks toward the dome.
A deep, abiding crunch rang out.
The ground rumbled. A stiff breeze crested against Kayden’s face. Meanwhile, the people closest to the dome, along with the peacekeepers, took a collective step backward. Then they continued their assault on it.
Shifting to the right, she spotted Rupert Hortman. Their one-time ally was a portly man with long gray hair tied back into a ponytail. With a vicious swing, he slammed a metal footstool into the dome. There was no resulting sound. Indeed, the footstool seemed to have no impact whatsoever on the darkness.
Another resounding crunch hit her ears.
A fierce wind, along with an accompanying tremor, shot down the cobblestone street. A few people fell down. Others were forced to grab onto decorative gas lamps for support.
Closer to the dome, Rupert lost his balance. He dropped to the cobblestones. The footstool squirted out of his hands.
Two people lunged for him.
He looked up, uttered a terrified shriek.
Yet another crunch.
His shriek died out as a strong quake struck the cobblestones. The resulting wind sent the lungers reeling backward a couple of feet.
Kayden fought to keep her balance. Her gaze, meanwhile, was locked on Rupert. Or rather, on where he’d been.
For he was now gone.
Chapter 38
Jaw agape, Jarven stared into the abyss of blackness. “Where’d he go?”
Rupert’s disappearance sent a chord of fear through the object-swingers. Looking agitated, they backed away from the ever-growing darkness.
“The dome …” Valhalya fumbled around, searching for the right words. “I think it swallowed him.”
The nearby crowd disintegrated as people took off running. They were so panicked they didn’t even notice Kayden and her friends.
As the street opened up, Kayden strode forward. She sensed everyone’s fear, their dread. But she didn’t stop.