by Ramona Finn
We reach the tunnels long before daybreak, thankfully.
As we climb in, me following last of all, I hear the soft murmurs begin. There’s always someone waiting for us in the tunnels when we return. Part of this is security; you never know who could have piggy-backed in with you. The other part of this is in case there’s an emergency. We need to be able to react as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Normally, this is a good thing. Tonight, I dread it. I want nothing more than a place to sleep, at least for a little bit. But I know I won’t be that lucky.
As I finally drop down into the tunnel behind Skye, I hear the voices more clearly. One is angry and higher in pitch; the other is deep and dark. Bird and Wolf. It seems like all they do anymore is argue. Usually about me.
With a sigh, I head over towards them. I don’t even bother telling the others to take what little we salvaged to the Tech Room. And it is very little. Though there were many drones, a lot of them were smashed apart so badly that there weren’t any parts to retrieve. And as for what we could retrieve… let’s just say I was outvoted. When I suggested that we collect what we could and go, Bird rounded on me. She accused me of being calloused and cold. Of being more machine than human.
I flinched at the words, and they sting even now, but a squirming feeling in my gut makes me wonder if she isn’t right.
The biotech, the statistical way I analyze deaths, I think morosely. Isn’t that how a machine would operate?
Before I can answer myself, I reach Bird and Wolf. Wolf looks grim, his arms folded across his chest, his brow furrowed heavily across his dark eyes. He doesn’t notice me at first as I approach them—Bird holds his full attention.
“Both Sidewinder and Lizzie. Coral’s taking it pretty hard.” Bird’s voice is laced with barely controlled anger and I’m sure most of that is for the sake of the clan. Most of them are still sleeping.
Wolf lets out a sigh, and then rubs his large hands over his face. When he pulls them away, he only looks tired. “What happened? How did it all go so wrong?”
Bird shoots me an angry glare and then looks back at him. “I don’t know. They were taking too long. When the drones came, they were supposed to be already out of there. But the Glitches didn’t get out until halfway through the fight. They might as well not have come out at all.”
“Bird,” Wolf cautions, his eyes sharp as he gives her a reproving look. “They are assets as much as anyone else. It’s a good thing they got out.”
Assets? I think, something that tastes sort of like acid and anger is working its way through my ribcage. I stomp closer to the two of them so that I’m directly in the middle of their conversation.
“It wasn’t our fault,” I say instantly, feeling attacked by Bird and finally having had enough of it. “We couldn’t have known it was going to happen like that!”
“I believe you,” Wolf says immediately, holding up his hands to show that he understands. “It’s a terrible thing that happened, but—”
Bird scoffs at him. “Not her fault? It’s all her fault! All of this has been her fault!”
I don’t bother looking at her. I know that the only one whose opinion matters here is Wolf’s. “The plan worked like it was supposed to—” I begin, trying to at least explain what happened.
“Oh? So Lizzie and Sidewinder were supposed to die?” she demands hotly.
I ignore her and continue, keeping it short to appease Bird. “We hacked into the AI. She tracked us. The drones came.”
Bird looks like she’s ready to interject again, but Wolf puts a heavy hand on her shoulder to stop her. He shakes his head. “Then what went wrong?” he asks me carefully, leaving his hand on Bird’s shoulder to keep her still and quiet.
I hesitate. I think of my search through the AI’s mainframe. Had that triggered an unusual amount of drone activity? I don’t think so, but it is possible. I open my mouth to say as much, but instead an entirely different answer comes pouring out, “Skye was attacked inside the mainframe. A scab went after her and was shocking her. I went after her and we fought. It took longer than it should have.”
It’s the truth, I’m grateful to say, but it’s not all of the truth. If I had stayed with Skye, none of that would have happened. Probably, we would have gotten out as soon as I noticed drone activity outside—which I would have noticed if I’d been looking for it rather than snooping through my personal records.
But I had to search, I think to myself. I have to find my parents, and the AI is the only thing that will know.
“So, what? You get to save your friend at the expense of two of ours?” Bird lashes out, but this attack seems less fervent than the others.
“Bird, go get checked out by Croc,” Wolf tells her gently.
She shakes her head, still looking at me. “No. I’m fine.”
He sighs. “Then go to bed. Get some rest. There’s nothing more anyone’s going to get done tonight.”
“But she—”
Wolf shakes his head firmly. “No. You need to stop blaming her. This wasn’t her fault.”
Angrily, Bird jerks her shoulder back from his hand, pulling away from him. “Why do you always do that? Why do you defend her?”
For a moment Wolf looks surprised... and maybe a little guilty, too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about favoritism,” she says in a low voice.
“Don’t be stupid,” Wolf growls at her, anger finally flushing his tanned features. “I always put the safety of my people first. Always. Do you honestly think I would put them in unnecessary danger over some stupid Glitch?”
I flinch. Stupid Glitch. My heart sinks and I feel my eyes begin to burn with the promise of tears. Still, in front of them, I do my best to hold the emotion back even as I feel hurt washing over me in angry waves.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” she mumbles in answer. Before anyone can say anything more, she turns and walks away down the hall, presumably to get some sleep.
The others in our group have already disappeared. Some lingered a little while to listen in on Bird’s argument with Wolf, but most have already heard it a thousand times now. What’s the point? It’s all my fault, according to her. It always is. Even Skye has already left, not even lingering long enough to tell me good night.
Wolf and I are alone in the hall when he finally speaks. “Lib, I—”
But I realize I don’t want to talk to him anymore. I’ve waited for us to be alone to work this out, and now that we are, I realize I don’t want to. I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m just some stupid Glitch. I turn on my heel and stalk down the hall. I hear him call my name one, two more times, but I still don’t turn.
If I can help it, I’ll never talk to him again.
…
My decision not to talk to Wolf lasts for just shy of a day. By the following evening, I’ve learned that there are to be no more missions and I’m furious. I corner him in the training room, thankfully alone, and demand him to explain.
“No more missions?” I ask hotly by way of greeting.
He pauses in his movements to turn and look at me. Then he runs his hands through his dampened hair and says, “Not right now. The council’s called a meeting to… talk about some things.”
Making a frustrated sound in my throat, I clench my hands at my sides and say, “I don’t care about the stupid council! They can talk all they want. That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t go out for missions.”
His mouth turns down in a frown. He takes a steadying breath and says, “Look, I promise that the ban on missions is only temporary. It’s not like we can go that long before needing to collect more resources anyway.”
Silently, I concede his point. But I fold my arms across my chest anyway, because I don’t like the sense that he can just tell me what to do.
After a moment, he says, “And you need to care about the council. Because you need to be there tonight.”
I raise a single eyebrow at him, pursi
ng my lips together before I say, “And you weren’t going to tell me?”
He curses, “Jeez, Lib! Yes, I was going to tell you. But you’ve been avoiding me, remember? I figured I’d have to corner you in that Tech Room or something.” Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out, trying to calm himself down. “Just show up, Lib. That’s not a request.”
Then he turns away from me and starts going through the motions that keep his body in good shape—and probably keeps his frustration down.
I grit my teeth and think about whether there’s anything else I can throw at him for the sake of arguing, but I’ve got nothing. Fine, I’ll go to this stupid meeting, I think to myself. But despite being annoyed and angry, there’s a little tendril of fear that runs through me.
The council makes the decisions. The big ones. And if they decide that I’ve done something wrong, then there may be nothing I can say in my defense.
CHAPTER SIX
I have been to one council meeting before. It was months ago, and it didn’t leave me with the best of feelings, though then I at least knew that Wolf was on my side. Now, I’m not so sure. At the time, there were only four council members instead of the seven that normally made up the group. As I stand in the new council room, as wide and short as before and with the same single hole in the ceiling for light, I notice that they’ve since replenished their numbers.
Seven members.
They’re in a semi-circle in front of me, sitting on chairs carved from solid interior rock and still attached to the floor. It makes them all look bigger, older, and wiser, maybe, but as I search their faces I note that most of them are young. Even the thirty-something woman I remember from before is gone now. I don’t think she’s died, but it seems she’s no longer a member of the council. Some of the faces, however, are familiar.
I recognize the man with the shaved head, his eyes a weird sort of golden hazel color. He’s only a few years older than Wolf and goes by the name of Komodo. I’ve never been on a mission with him before, which I didn’t think was unusual until this moment. Now I wonder if he didn’t deliberately make it that way.
Next to him sits Wolf, who isn’t looking at me. My eyes linger on him, but his gaze never shifts. He’s unconcerned about all of this... and that makes something in my chest tighten.
On the other side of him are two women who are arguing in hushed whispers. They look to be little more than children, and I think they’re probably even younger than I am. I think maybe they’re sisters because their arguing doesn’t seem to surprise or concern anyone else. They do it a moment longer before stopping at the same time. They turn and look at me in unison then, their dark eyes locked on me. A shiver runs through me, and I don’t think they’re on my side.
My eyes continue around the semi-circle to find the woman from before. The one who could be my sister or my mother in age. She smiles kindly at me, but it’s brief and her eyes are hard. I move on from her quickly. Next is a young man I don’t know. He looks to be about Wolf’s age, and not all that interested in anything that’s going on.
As the last member of the council enters late, I feel all the wind knocked from my lungs.
“Bird is part of the council?” I blurt incredulously.
What few murmurs were bouncing around through the council cease. Bird takes her place sitting next to the bored young man. Instantly, I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. It’s Wolf who answers me. “She has more right than most to participate in the judicial process of the clan.”
The blandness of his tone and the hard ice chips in his eyes make me want to shirk down to nothing. Suddenly, I wish I’d turned down coming to this meeting.
“I will be impartial,” Bird promises me, but I don’t believe her. How can someone who hates me so much honestly be impartial? The simple answer is that she can’t.
I say nothing, and wait for it to begin.
“Do you know why you are here?” one of the sisters questions.
I hesitate. My eyes dart to Bird, then back to the sisters. I’m not sure which one spoke now. “Not exactly,” I say, and don’t add, but I have a pretty good idea.
“Gazelle, tell her!” one of the sisters says, nudging the other.
The other—Gazelle—swats her away. “I’m going to, Doe. You’re so impatient!”
“I am not—”
“Hush, both of you!” admonishes the woman with the ageless features. “We are council members. Act like it.”
Both girls, properly chastised, apologize in unison. “Sorry, Lark.”
Satisfied, the woman named Lark turns from them and focuses on me. “You are here because, once again, we have found ourselves in danger since your arrival. We must question if this is mere coincidence.” Though her tone is formal, it’s also gentle. Her eyes linger on me, not unkindly, but as though to measure me from the inside out.
But despite her gentleness and despite her kind eyes, I feel anger swallow me. How can they do this to me again? Haven’t I proven myself? Haven’t I shown them that I can be trusted? Hasn’t everything I’ve done benefitted them as much as me?
I grind my teeth together in anger, feeling my emotions bubble up towards the surface, preparing to be launched ahead like mortars. I want to fight with these seven people who are so determined to think they’re better than me, when they don’t even know—
I’m cut off, thankfully, before I open my mouth and say something in the heat of anger.
It’s Wolf. “Our people are discontent. That doesn’t mean it is your fault. But we must consider everything.”
He’s still cool, distant. But at least he’s not accusing me. Not outright, anyway.
“Discontent?” I repeat. I’m still angry, and a big part of me wants them to know it. “And why are they discontent?” I shoot a look to Bird at the very end of the row, my eyes narrowing at her. I hope she reads the accusation in my look.
I see her clench her jaw. She knows that I’m not happy. She’s not happy either. But I see her take a deep breath and, when she speaks, I can tell she’s making an effort to be neutral. “Things are changing. Rapidly. We, the council, and others, understand that you are only trying to help.” She pauses and I almost jump in right there, but she moves on too quickly. “But what you don’t understand is that you’re going about this would-be helping the wrong way. Introducing the tech to our culture isn’t beneficial, it’s destroying who we are as a people.”
I grit my teeth, but I won’t miss my opportunity to speak. “Not everyone is discontent, as you put it,” I growl at her. “A lot of people like the changes that I’ve brought with me. And a lot of those changes have made us stronger, have made life easier. Have made surviving easier! How can you say that’s wrong?”
Bird shakes her head. “Just because some things are easier does not mean they are better. The words are not the same.”
I open my mouth to argue with her, but she holds up her hand to stop me and continues to speak. “This meeting is about life. This is about the fact that you, Lib the Glitch, cannot see the trees for the forest. You are blinded by your own statistics.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand.
She shakes her head, for a second looking weary, and maybe even… sad? Sympathetic? No, it’s pity I see on her face. Instantly, I don’t like it. “I am talking about how you are so willing to sacrifice the one to save the many.”
I blanch. What? How can I be on trial for that? Sometimes you have to sacrifice a life to save a lot of lives. Would it be better to sacrifice a lot of lives for the sake of just one? I don’t think so. I can’t think so. “You’re upset… because I save more people rather than just one?”
Bird makes a frustrated noise and opens her mouth, looking like she wants to yell at me for being an idiot—I can honestly say I feel the same towards her. But before she gets the chance, a newcomer enters the room. One I’m very familiar with. My eyes widen.
“Skye?”
She offers me a tentative smile, but it’s strained. The flash of h
ope that filled my chest at the sight of her fades immediately. I realize with a jolt that she’s not here for me.
“Don’t be so hard on her, Bird,” she says, though her eyes stay on me. “Lib is trying to do what’s best for everyone. It doesn’t make her a bad person.”
For a moment, no one says anything. Then I hear Bird sigh. I turn away from Skye, partially because I find that I’m angry with her, too. When I look at Bird again, I see that she’s trying hard to control her features, to soften them. When she speaks again, her tone is calmer.
“I mean only that one life can change everything. To lose it over something like a statistic, or because a single life is unimportant when confronted by the grand scheme of things, is wrong.” Bird hesitates, and then finally says what I think she’s been wanting to say from the start. “My visions tell me this is the wrong way to go. That this will only bring a new world that is just like the old one. That we will be the new AI.”
I flinch at that, my foot jerking back to take a step away from them of its own accord. I am not the AI! I will never be like her! The things she does… I would never do things like that. I’m trying to help people, not hurt or destroy them. Why can’t Bird see that I’m making things better?
I almost open my mouth and ask her that very question, but something makes me stop. Maybe it’s the cool look in Wolf’s dark eyes; maybe it’s the sad one in Skye’s. Or maybe it’s just the sudden uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that tells me something’s not quite right. Whatever it is, I hesitate and I wait too long to say anything. Bird speaks again.
“We must move beyond this. We must learn that every life is precious—and that sometimes sacrificing the one means that we have already sacrificed ourselves. And that is the greatest loss.”
I don’t understand what she’s talking about. But something inside me churns with guilt. I think of how analytical I’ve been. Percentages of who comes home and who doesn’t. And just because I’m over fifty percent, I consider it a victory. But what about Lizzie? What about Sidewinder? What about all those who have died on those missions—missions I still believe are important? Would they think of them as successes?