by Simone Pond
“Their software is similar to ours, just extremely powerful. If I see anything weird, I’m pulling you back up.”
Ava shut her eyes and ascended into darkness . . .
6
Grace was in the middle of a deep sleep when a loud banging at the front door echoed through the quiet cabin. The pitch black of night had dimmed, but it was not yet morning. She ran out of her room, almost bumping into her father.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Not sure.”
Grace followed Joseph to the front door. “Where’s Mom?”
“She didn’t come home yet,” he said, opening the door.
Sam stood in the entrance, his face pale and hair disheveled. That couldn’t be good. Grace had never seen him so sloppy. “You better come with me, sir,” he said.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?”
“It’s the mainframe, sir. Mrs. Strader’s still inside, and I can’t pull her out.”
“Dammit.” Joseph pulled on his jacket and followed Sam outside.
Grace ran outside, barefoot and without a sweater. The cold, wet air seeped into her skin, but she didn’t turn back. She needed to know why her mother was in the mainframe this late. Did that private conversation with Ms. Atwood have something to do with her going back in? Was it something Grace had done during her aptitude test? She knew there was something weird about that red door. It had a significant bearing to it, though she didn’t know what. Just something she sensed. Maybe Ms. Atwood mentioned it to Ava, and that’s why she went back in? Grace trailed behind her father and Sam toward the main hall, her head throbbing. What if something terrible had happened to her mother? They had their differences, but she still loved her.
“I tried to stop her, sir, but she wouldn’t listen,” Sam explained.
“I’m not angry with you, Sam. We all know how hardheaded she can be.”
“She said she was going in with or without me, so I stayed to monitor. She was fine at first, but then something strange happened to the coding. I tried to pull her back up. But I couldn’t. She mentioned something Grace had discovered.”
“Did she mention anything about Morray?” Joseph asked.
“Yes, she told me about the digital footprints.”
Grace stopped walking. Digital footprints for Morray? She knew the red door signified something important, but not to that degree. How was she able to track down anything, let alone Morray? How could something so momentous be possible? It didn’t compute—she was an amateur with the technology, at best. The mainframe was her mother’s world. She looked up to the millions of stars glittering above. That’s what the mainframe was to her: infinite beyond her comprehension.
“Come on, Grace.” Joseph stood by the entrance to the main hall. Grace admired her father’s ability to emotionally detach from the situation and focus on the solution. She was a wreck.
Inside the main hall, Sam led Joseph and Grace to the lounger where Ava was hooked up to the mainframe. She looked so peaceful and relaxed, but Grace knew there was a lot more going on underneath the surface. The monitor flashed streams of glowing code, and Sam pointed out discrepancies to Joseph. Grace stood over her mother, touching her cheek. Her skin was radiating as if her cells were on fire. “She’s hot,” she said. “We need to hurry up and get her out.”
“You see, right here. Every time this pattern comes up, something glitches and it repeats itself like a never-ending loop. I can’t break it.” Sam stared at the screen, holding his temples. He was strung out and exhausted. This wasn’t like him. He always had control of the situation.
“Let me get a closer look,” said Joseph, moving Sam out of the way. He hunched down and studied the monitor.
Grace watched her mother sleeping, lost somewhere inside the mainframe. She wondered if she had come across the same red door. Did she find a way to open it and go into the woods?
“Do you see a red door in the coding?” Grace asked.
“Red door?” Sam looked at Grace.
“Yeah. When I was inside, I came to a red door. Beyond it there was a forest, but my test ended before I could figure out the way through,” explained Grace.
“Of course. That’s it!” Sam almost shouted.
“What’s it?” Joseph asked.
“Grace, do you think if you went in, you could find the red door again?” he asked.
Joseph stood up. “Absolutely not. Grace isn’t going back in there.”
“But Dad, what if I can help?”
“Sir, she might be able to see something from the inside that I can’t see,” said Sam.
“We’ll solve this from the outside.”
Sam nodded, backing down.
Joseph pulled over another chair and motioned for Grace. “Tell me exactly what you saw when you were in there. Step by step.”
Grace sat down and explained what had happened when she was plugged into the mainframe. She told her father how she was able to control her direction by voice command. That she wasn’t exactly sure how she knew what to say, but she used her instincts and followed her gut—the same way she tracked her opponent in a sword fight. Joseph listened carefully and kept checking the monitor.
“It’s my fault she went back in,” Grace said.
“It’s nobody’s fault. Your mother has a mind of her own.”
“I think I figured out something.” Sam began typing code. His fingers moved so fast Grace couldn’t keep up. She went back over to her mother and waited.
Whatever Sam was doing was working. “Her eyes are moving!” she yelled. “She’s coming back!”
Ava’s eyes shot open, and she gasped for air. Joseph and Grace held her down to help ease her back into consciousness. She removed her hand from the connector panel.
“Go easy,” Joseph whispered.
Grace hugged her mother. She never thought she’d be so happy to see her overprotective eyes so alert.
“Air, I need air,” Ava coughed.
Joseph placed an oxygen mask over Ava’s face, and Grace stood back to give her mother some breathing room. After a few minutes, Ava took off the mask and sat up, smiling. “I take it something went wrong?” she asked.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” Joseph said, relieved and irritated.
“What happened?”
“You tell us,” Joseph said.
“At first the movement was erratic, but once I relaxed I was able to follow Grace’s trail. I saw a red door and tried to open it, but nothing happened.”
“You were inside for over five hours,” said Joseph, examining Ava’s eyes and heart rate.
“What? It felt like a minute.”
“There was a glitch in the coding. You were stuck on a loop,” said Sam.
Grace held her mother’s hand and helped her out of the lounger.
“I’m feeling a bit loopy,” Ava joked.
“Not funny,” Grace laughed. “I’m glad you’re out.”
“Let’s get out of here before the judges arrive and disqualify Grace from the competition,” Joseph told the group.
“I’ll stay behind and clean up everything,” Sam said.
As they exited the main hall, Grace peeked back and noticed Sam was still typing code. She almost said something, but her mother wanted to hear about tryouts.
*
Later that morning, Grace returned to the main hall to hear the result announcements. The place was once again packed to the rafters. The loungers and monitors had been cleared out—probably on their way back to Silicon Valley. The judges sat in a semicircle in the middle of the room. Groggy and jittery from lack of sleep, emotionally drained from her mother’s mainframe fiasco just a few hours prior, and worried about the final results of the tryouts, Grace wanted to be alone for the announcements. Rather than sit with the other competitors, she hid in the back row of the bleachers. That way, if she didn’t make it into the academy her friends wouldn’t see her disappointment.
Ms. Atwood stepped up to the center of the room an
d peered out to the audience. Her wiry gray hair looked twice the size it did the day before. The judges must have been up all night deliberating. Once the crowd quieted down, she addressed the group.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We hope everyone, especially the competitors, got some rest. We were in deliberations for a good portion of the night and again this morning.” She paused and glanced at the group who had competed in tryouts the previous day. “As you know, the program only allows us to select a total of four candidates from each village. The decision has been most difficult, as all of you exceeded beyond our expectations.”
Grace had heard the same speech every year, but somehow this year the words sounded phony and forced, like someone giving a pep talk on a sinking ship. The competitors always exceeded beyond their expectations—that was the purpose.
“Let’s get right to it, as I’m sure you’re quite anxious. Our first cadet selection is Blaine Freeman, who will be placed in Strategic Development training.”
That was a no-brainer—Blaine was an expert methodical planner with a brilliant mind. The short—but confidently tall—candidate made his way to the center of the room. One down, three to go. Actually only two remaining spots, since Search & Rescue wasn’t in the stars for Grace.
“The next cadet selection is Blythe Ballesteros for Digital Communications training.”
Grace relaxed a bit, grateful Blythe hadn’t taken the slot for combat. Though she had the physique of a warrior, Blythe was a die-hard tech head. She strutted to the center of the room and stared out to the audience, refusing to smile. One more category to go. If she didn’t get into combat, it was over. The moment of truth was just a few breaths away.
“The next cadet selection is Marion Jones for Combat & Weapons training.”
Grace rose out of her seat, both shocked and crushed. Her entire future just went to her best friend. It was over.
She watched Marion dance her way up to the center of the room with her red curls bouncing all over the place. The audience laughed and cheered her on. Grace wanted to be happy for her friend, but the undertow of jealousy swept her away.
Ms. Atwood continued with her speech, but Grace was a million miles away. “As you know, our final category is Search & Rescue. This category is reserved for the candidate who out-performed across the board in all categories. Ladies and gentlemen, please congratulate Grace Strader.”
Grace remained still, unsure she had heard Ms. Atwood correctly. Why would they pick her for Search & Rescue? It had to be a mistake. How could she qualify for something that involved bleeding wounds and reassembling body parts? No way. This was a category for someone with a much stronger constitution. She was waiting for Blythe to grab the microphone and tell the judges they had made a huge mistake and they couldn’t possibly want this wimp. Instead, Blythe just nodded, inwardly laughing at the irony.
The woman sitting next to Grace nudged her to go down to the floor. She slowly got up and made her way through the cheering crowd. She had a suspicion her acceptance into the program had something to do with the mainframe incident. Or maybe she had out-performed the others. Either way, she was in. She was going to the academy. Marion put her arm around Grace’s shoulder and escorted her to the center of the room with the other cadets.
“Smile, Gracie. You made it!” Marion grabbed Blaine’s hand and motioned for Grace to take Blythe’s reluctant hand, and the four lifted their arms up triumphantly. The audience applauded, but Grace wasn’t as jubilant as the others. Now she’d have a lot more to prove.
After the ceremony, Marion and Grace walked outside. “A bunch of us are going to the Cantina to celebrate. You coming?”
“Nah, I’m not in the mood.” Grace didn’t bother hiding her disappointment.
“But this is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. What’s wrong?”
“It’s a lot to take in. I’m not sure about Search & Rescue. Specifically the rescue portion. I had my heart set on combat,” Grace said.
Marion looked heartbroken. “I’m sorry. But you out-performed everyone in all three categories. That should make you happy.”
“It’s gonna be tough.”
“Sure it is, but I’ve never seen you back down, Gracie.”
“I better get home and pack.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.” Marion walked off like a puppy that had no other puppies to romp with.
Grace didn’t go home. She walked in the woods, trying to process the results. After ambling around for a while and not feeling any more settled than before, she walked down the path and headed toward the one place she found solace. She sat down on the front steps of the library, staring off toward the trees. The early spring air was cool, but carried a hint of warmth.
The library door opened and Sam almost tripped over Grace. “Whoa, didn’t expect to see you there.” He steadied himself and readjusted the sack over his shoulder. He was still wearing the same rumpled clothes, and his eyes were puffy and red.
“Did you hear the announcements?” asked Grace, standing up.
“Congratulations,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, Search & Rescue.”
“Seems to be a strange choice,” he said.
The look of doubt in his eyes irked Grace, and she felt an urge to defend herself. “The judges know what they’re doing,” she said.
“Wonder if they know you’re a fainter?”
Grace ignored the barb. “What are you doing at the library?”
“Getting a few things for the trip north.”
“Trip north?”
“I had to pick up some of the journals for your mother,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” She felt like someone had shot a heavy rock into her gut.
“She didn’t tell you?” he asked.
Grace shook her head, terrified to hear what was coming next, but already having an idea.
“Your mother and I are going to the academy for a semester to work with the new equipment.” Sam walked down the stairs and patted her on the head, which infuriated her more.
“Aren’t you tired of playing the watchdog?” she said bitterly.
“Aren’t you tired of needing one?”
He walked off toward the village. Grace wanted to run after him and tackle him to the ground, but a sudden dizziness had taken over. An acidy rage churned in her throat. She tugged at her collar to get air. Her dream of going to the academy was turning out to be a nightmare. How was she supposed to find independence and forge her own path when her mother kept stepping in the way? She had worked so hard to get into the academy—she couldn’t let her mother ruin everything. She ran back to the cabin, ready to stand up to her mother, but her parents were in the middle of an argument.
“What’s going on?” asked Grace.
Ava quickly faked a smile and approached her daughter. “We’re so happy for you.” She gave Grace a hug.
Grace pried herself away. “When were you going to tell me? On the train?”
“I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t find the right time. And I didn’t want to distract you from tryouts.”
“You’re ruining everything for me!” Grace yelled.
“My going to the academy has nothing to do with you.”
“Can’t I have just one thing to myself without you hovering over me?”
“Grace . . .” Ava’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m not sure I want to go. If I decline my acceptance, at least I’d have the village to myself,” Grace said.
That’s when Joseph walked over to Grace. “You sound like a child. This is a huge honor, and you’re being a spoiled brat.” He used a decibel reserved only for his soldiers.
Grace stepped back and lowered her head, embarrassed by her behavior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to hold back her tears.
“It’s time you realize your mother isn’t out to get you. She’s looking out for you.”
“Sometimes I just wanna look out for myself,” Grace cried.
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br /> “You’ll have plenty of time to do that. You’re our little girl, and I hate to break it to you, but you will be even when you’re old.”
“Even when I’m old?” Grace widened her eyes.
Joseph softened a little and reached around to hug his daughter. “Yes, even when you’re old.”
“For the record, I didn’t approach the academy. They came to me a few weeks ago. I was going, whether or not you got into the program. I knew you’d get in. What I didn’t foresee is your capabilities inside the mainframe. What you did during tryouts was groundbreaking. You were able to track down a footprint of Morray. That’s amazing for someone with little to no experience. Imagine what you could do with the proper training. In fact, I’d love for you to help out in the lab.”
Grace stared at her mother, shocked and confused. “You want my help?”
“I haven’t discussed it with anyone yet, so nothing’s set in stone. It’s just something to think about.”
“Search & Rescue will be pretty demanding.”
“Your studies are your first priority. But maybe you could visit the lab and help out from time to time? I’ll be working overtime, tracking down Morray.”
Grace admired her mother’s enthusiasm, but she didn’t want to conduct any additional mainframe searches. The one during tryouts was enough to last a lifetime. What did she know about the mainframe, let alone a digital reconnaissance mission to find Morray? She liked the idea of being helpful, but not at the expense of her goals. The idea was to spend less time with her mother—a lot less time. It would already be painful enough seeing her on campus.
“I don’t know. The mainframe is your thing.” Grace said.
“You have time to think about it. But you must keep this to yourself. Ms. Atwood isn’t entirely sure it was Morray’s footprints, and she doesn’t want to stir up the masses. I’ve been instructed to keep the information classified.”
Joseph spoke up, “But in the meantime, I’m putting together a special-ops team. Just in case your mother is right.”
Ava perked up. “Just in case? You know I’m right.”
“Either way, we’ll be prepared,” Joseph said.
There was something else Grace needed to solidify before they headed north. “So, if we’re gonna be on the same campus, I want to establish some boundaries.” She paused, making sure she had her mother’s full attention. “At the academy, I’m just another cadet in training. I don’t want any special attention or treatment from you. I need you to keep your distance and give me my space,” Grace said.