“I’ll stay with you,” Buir says. “Ayma is only leaving two passes at the security gate anyway.”
Ghil gives an appreciative nod and continues up the stairs.
Velkan accompanies Buir and me to Sarth’s quarters.
“Are you going to be all right without us tomorrow?” Velkan asks Buir.
She arches a brow at him. “You’ve seen how Ghil handles those knives. What do you think?”
Velkan gives a wry grin. “Not much use against a plasma gun.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before Sarth and Crank get here,” I say. “Anyway, they can’t take weapons past the port security into the docking station.”
I splay my hand good night to Velkan and watch him walk down the hallway to his bunk room.
Buir falls asleep almost right away, but I lay awake for several hours, thinking about Ayma and wondering how much she knows about the origin of our bracelets. I’m glad Velkan’s coming with me tomorrow. Whatever Ayma divulges, it involves him too and, good or bad, I want him there to share that moment with me.
The next morning, Buir shakes me out of a deep slumber. “Are you ever going to get up?”
I rub my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight.”
“What?” I jump out of bed and weave my hair into a quick braid. “You should have woken me earlier!”
“I left breakfast for you in the galley,” Buir says.
“I’ll eat later. Gotta go.”
Velkan is already waiting downstairs in the cargo bay. “Rough night?” he asks, eying me with concern.
I shrug. “I couldn’t get to sleep. I kept wondering what news we’ll get today.”
He gives a sympathetic smile. “I didn’t sleep much either. I kept imagining all the possibilities.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Ayma seemed uneasy about the prospect of telling us where the bracelets came from.”
Velkan tosses a skein of hair over his shoulder and strides toward the door. “Time we found out.”
The military quadrant is awash with activity; a steady stream of sleek, black vehicles entering and exiting. Holographic messages with unintelligible strings of code flash intermittently overhead. Masked soldiers, dressed in black, guard the entryway, guns at the ready. As we walk toward the security gate, several drones fly overhead and circle us like annoying flies.
“What are they doing,” I ask.
“Taking DNA readings and running them through their criminal database,” Velkan says in a low tone. “Don’t worry, we’re not in there, yet.”
A shiver runs across my shoulders. Despite Velkan’s reassurance, I can’t help wondering if anything has been uploaded to incriminate us in Doctor Azong’s murder.
When we reach the security booth, an electronic voice ripples through a speaker, “state the purpose of your visit.”
“We’re traders from the Zebulux,” I say. “Ayma invited us here to discuss some … business opportunities.”
A camera whirs and takes our picture. “Checking,” the voice says.
“They’re uploading our scan to Ayma to verify who we are,” Velkan whispers to me. “She’s not going to recognize me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “As long as she recognizes me, she should verify us.”
As the minutes tick by, I shuffle my feet impatiently. I’ve gambled everything on the bracelets meaning as much to Ayma as they do to me. If I’m wrong, Velkan’s time as a free man will have been short-lived.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when the words, identification confirmed, flash over the security gate. Seconds later, a dispenser on the counter spits out two ID passes.
I reach for them and hand one to Velkan, glancing around. “Where do we go from here?”
Velkan opens his mouth to respond just as a sleek black LevAuto pulls up. The door slides soundlessly open. I look at Velkan and shrug. “This must be for us.”
He blows out a heavy breath. “I hope we’re not about to make a grave mistake.”
“I trust Ayma,” I say, climbing in. “She recognized that bracelet and it meant something to her.”
We ride in silence as the vehicle hovers over the immaculately appointed residences inside the military quadrant. The homes gradually grow more opulent the farther we move away from the security gate. I turn to Velkan and give a nervous smile. “I guess her family really is important.”
“Let’s hope it works in our favor.” Velkan runs the tip of his finger self-consciously over his neck where his holographed tattoo had been.
Minutes later, our vehicle comes to a stop a short distance from a gleaming glass building on a tubular foundation that sprawls over a gently sloping lot. The entire upper level of the residence comprises a large hangar full of luxurious private shuttles. A laser security dome encloses the entire building, allowing no unauthorized flights in or out. My breath catches in my throat at the fortified guard station and plated gate standing between us and the palatial residence. Four or five armed guards are congregated outside the station, and there could be any number of them inside. “Let’s hope they’re not here for us,” I whisper.
“Not likely,” Velkan replies. “If Ayma’s parents are high-ranking officials, this place is probably swarming with guards at all times.”
We wait in the back seat of the vehicle for what seems like an agonizing length of time before the plated gate lowers into the ground and our vehicle pulls forward again. I let out my breath and lean my head against Velkan’s shoulder. “My good feeling about Ayma was beginning to waver there for a minute.”
“I’m still not sure we can trust her,” he says, grimly. “Easier to interrogate us once we’re inside.”
The LevAuto hovers up the driveway and stops outside the front door. As we’re climbing out, Ayma appears at the top of the steps. I’m struck by her beauty, the smooth contours of her fine jaw and high cheekbones, dark lashes unfurled like spider legs, deep red lips, and that ebony hair, now loose and sweeping her shoulders like the night sky. I glance across at Velkan, fighting back a pang of jealousy, but he’s more focused on the guards who have appeared like silent shadows out of every nook and cranny.
“Welcome.” Ayma motions us inside with an authoritative flick of her wrist. We follow her into a spacious entryway with a floating spiral staircase in the center. She dismisses the guards and leads us into an office at the end of a short hallway. “Take a seat,” she says, as the door slides shut behind us.
We sit down on a luxuriously soft couch that instantly molds to our bodies. Ayma pulls out a DigiPad and taps on it, her fingers flying rapidly over the screen.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Scrambling the surveillance,” she says, before plopping down in the couch opposite us. She sighs. “Every breath I take is recorded and analyzed.”
“So how do you get around it?” I ask curiously.
She grins across at me. “Technology is my language. I enjoy the challenge of outwitting every reconnaissance device they come up with.”
“Are you sure no one can hear us?” Velkan asks.
“Positive.” Ayma straightens up and fixes her gaze on him. “Do you have a bracelet too?”
Velkan nods. “It was on my wrist when my master, Sarth, found me.” He glances uncertainly at me. “I … used to be a serf.”
Ayma arches a brow. “Not anymore I see.” She turns to me. “What about you?”
“The traders who sold me to my parents said I was wearing the bracelet when they found me.”
“Me too,” Ayma says softly. “My bracelet was stolen from me in the EduPlex a couple of months ago. It showed up in a pawn emporium a few days later.”
I shift forward in the couch. “You said you knew which planet the bracelets come from.”
Ayma gives a sober nod. “Mhakerta. A remote planet in the Netherscape.”
My heart begins to beat a little faster. “Have you been there? To search for your birth parents?”
She shak
es her head. “No one travels there anymore.”
“Why not?” Velkan asks.
“Because Artificial Intelligence seized control and enslaved the humans.”
28
The blood in my veins turns to ice. I stare at Ayma, dumbstruck. “How do you know that?”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small bracelet exactly like mine. “Watch this,” she says, tapping on it. I gasp in disbelief when a sequence of lights flickers across the band.
“It took some time, but I figured out how to reactivate it, and I was able to unlock the coordinates that were coded inside.” Ayma hands it to me to take a closer look. “When I located the planet, I hacked into their mainframe. Mhakerta is controlled by a self-actualizing software program that calls itself Preeminence.”
Velkan rubs a hand across his jaw. “So how did we escape?”
A beat of sadness strikes Ayma’s expression. “From what I can gather from deleted lab logs, we were evacuated by our birth parents.” She sighs. “I don’t know how or why exactly, but they were afraid of what Preeminence was planning to do to compound its intelligence. Mhakerta has been in complete isolation from the outside world for almost two decades. Inter-planetary travel was restricted several years before we were born.”
My mind races at a dizzying speed to piece together what Ayma is saying. “So, you’re saying that our birth parents are essentially trapped on a planet run by a malicious software program.”
She twists her lips. “If they’re still alive.”
“Did you learn anything else from the bracelets?” Velkan asks.
Ayma shakes her head. “Only that there were five of them.”
I frown. “And two are still unaccounted for.”
“There’s no way to tell for sure if they ever left Mhakerta,” Ayma says.
“How are you able to glean all this information?” Velkan asks.
Ayma curves her lips into a mischievous smile. “Lots of practice hacking. I get a kick out of playing the rebel. The Syndicate has invited me to join their military security division once I graduate. They discovered I’d been browsing around in the backend of their top clearance stealth fighter project for years unbeknownst to them. They decided it would be better to have me on their side.”
“You’ve been hacking into Preeminence too,” I add.
A serious look comes into Ayma’s eyes. “It’s extremely sophisticated. Took me months to figure out how to get in and out without leaving a trail.”
“But it can be done,” I say.
She shrugs. “No one could enter their airspace if that’s what you’re thinking. Preeminence’s robotic air defense system is impenetrable from everything I’ve seen.”
I sit quietly for a few minutes, my insides churning like a solar storm. I feel lost, and helpless, inadequate even to begin to process everything Ayma is saying. I don’t know how to move forward once I sell the dargonite. I’m torn between helping the parents who raised me and saving my birth parents who are trapped by some psychotic, self-actualizing software program. “We have to do something,” I say. “I can procure a ship if you can find a way in.”
Ayma angles a brow. “And then what? How are we going to take down their robotic military with one ship?”
“Can’t you overwrite the software?” Velkan asks.
“It’s not that simple.” Ayma frowns. “Preeminence is more powerfully encrypted than anything I’ve ever seen. It possesses an exponential intelligence that I’ve never encountered before, and it builds on it constantly from one day to the next.”
“The longer we delay the more difficult it will be to infiltrate,” I say.
Ayma grimaces. “Impossible would be a better word.”
I arch my brows. “So much for being a technology whiz.”
A flash of anger lights up her eyes. Something shifts in her expression. “I suppose I could take a stab at it.”
“Is there a way we could locate the other bracelets?” I ask.
She rubs a polished fingertip over her lips. “I tried tracking the trajectory, but the other bracelets must have malfunctioned. Either that or … the children didn’t make it.”
I bite my lip. The enormity of what our birth parents did to save us hits me all at once. They knew the huge risk involved, but the alternative must have been more horrific. My heart aches for them and for all the people of Mhakerta.
“Harsh as it sounds, we can’t waste time trying to track them down right now,” Velkan says. “We need to stay focused on what we came here to do; sell the dargonite, maybe even mining rights, and procure a warship.”
Ayma’s eyes widen. “Dargonite? Where did you get dargonite?”
I take a deep breath, hoping my instincts about her are right. We may have found some common ground when it comes to our bracelets, but Ayma’s father is a high-ranking member of the Syndicate, and trading in dargonite is a felony.
“It came from my planet, Cwelt,” I say. “It’s under siege by Maulers. We escaped on Sarth’s oremongering vessel. When she tried to sell me in an auction on Diretus, we abandoned her and fled in her ship.” I slide forward to the edge of my seat. “We need your help to find a buyer on the dark market. We have to purchase a warship and fly back to Cwelt to rescue my people before it’s too late.”
Ayma wrinkles her forehead. “I don’t know anything about the dark market.”
“If you can hack into the mainframe, surely you can hack into the stellarsphere and find it,” I say.
“You realize you’re asking me to commit a crime punishable by banishment to the penal colonies, execution even?”
“It’s the only hope I’ve got of saving the only parents I know,” I reply. “Surely you can understand that.”
Ayma’s features soften. She’s quiet for a moment and then she nods. “I’ll nose around a bit and see what I can find. You’ll have to be patient. Crime’s not my specialty.”
I grimace. “Wasn’t mine either, but I’m learning on the job.”
Ayma gets to her feet and stretches. “Do you want something to drink?” She walks over to a dispenser behind the desk. “Pink Solarade, Infused Crantoidberry, Elektra Chai—”
“Ooh, yes! I’ll have the Chai, please,” I say.
“Crantoidberry for me,” Velkan says.
Ayma taps the dispenser for our selections and brings them over. “Here you go,” she says, handing our drinks to us. “If you want, I can show you around. There’s no one home.”
“Sure,” I say, glancing across at Velkan.
Velkan gives a quick nod. “Just so long as we’re back before noon.”
Ayma opens the door. “I’ll have my LevAuto take you back to your ship when we’re done.”
“Where are your parents?” I ask as we follow her out of the office.
Ayma presses her lips together. “Working.”
“What do they do?” Velkan asks.
“My father’s the Syndicate Fleet Commander and my mother is a judge on the Supreme Chancery—the ruling body of the Syndicate. They’re never home.”
A smile twitches on Velkan’s lips.“No wonder you’ve had so much time to hone your hacking skills.”
Ayma flashes him a brilliant smile in return, and another tiny pang of jealousy goes through me. She’s stunningly beautiful, and I suspect it has little to do with the fact that she can afford the best dermal sculptors on Aristozonex.
She leads us out the back of her home into a lush garden filled with manicured plants of every shade of green and vibrant flowers exuding intoxicating scents. Birds flit past us, chirping and warbling, as they make their rounds of the nectar-laden blossoms. The garden sweeps down to a circular pool reflecting the sun like a crystal eye.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I say, trying to drink it all in. “Cwelt seems like a desert in comparison.”
Ayma shrugs. “All bioengineered. A designer draws up what you want and you upload the plans. Everything is fabricated at the ornamental garden p
lant and delivered by drone drop. No maintenance involved.”
“You mean … it’s not real?” I ask, frowning.
Ayma throws me a bemused look. “Of course, it’s real! Although, holographic settings are becoming popular. Some people prefer the flexibility of changing out their environment from time to time—holographic settings are more economical too.”
“Is the pool real?” Velkan asks.
Ayma grins. “Want to go swimming?”
Velkan shakes his head. “I don’t know how.”
“You don’t have to,” Ayma says. “The suit does all the swimming for you.”
“We should really get going,” I say.
“Some other time then.” Ayma takes a quick sip of her Crantoidberry. “I’ll have my LevAuto pick you up at the front door.”
“How will I contact you again?” I ask.
“I’ll give you access to my private account.” She taps on her CipherSync. “Don’t divulge these contact details to anyone. I’m supposed to use the registered account, but everything on it is closely monitored.”
“Let me know as soon as you find a buyer,” I say.
I climb into the vehicle after Velkan and sink back against the plush seating. “This is a whole other level of luxury than LevCabs,” I say.
“No kidding.” Velkan stares out the window with a contemplative look on his face.
“I suppose you’re wondering why out of the three of us you ended up the serf.” I say.
He turns to me and grins. “Actually, I was thinking about Ayma.”
I stiffen, my smile freezing in place.
“When I met her, it felt like I already knew her,” Velkan continues, his brow knotting. He looks straight at me. “There must have been some connection between the three of us on Mhakerta.”
My muscles relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about her in that way. He’s curious what the connection between us is. “Our parents might have known each other,” I say.
“I wondered about that too,” Velkan replies. “If they worked in the scientific sector, they might have realized what was happening and decided to evacuate us before Preeminence sealed Mhakerta off from the outside world.”
Girl of Fire: The Expulsion Project Book One (A Science Fiction Dystopian Thriller) Page 22