by Shaun Barger
Blue went quiet again. Jem waited, patient. Finally, Blue looked at her—dark eyes brimming with tears.
“It’s been hard,” Blue said. “Being down here. Underground, without any VR. Sometimes it’s like I can’t breathe. Like I can feel the miles of rock and dirt above us, pressing down on my chest. I asked the commander if I could get a VR connection—tried to explain that I grew up in the clouds, with endless sky in every direction. But she wouldn’t listen. So now the only VR I can use is with you, in your mods. And you were gone so long this time. It’s hard enough being stuck here, on Earth, with . . . well, with everything. But living down here? Even the garden feels small to me now.”
She took a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself.
“The doc has what she needs from me to replicate her cure. I’m not due for another four months. I could make the journey to the base now, but not for much longer. And then, once the baby is born . . .”
“I understand,” Jem said softly. “I’ll talk to Eva.”
“I . . . already asked Eva if I could go. She said no. Wouldn’t explain why but she was adamant that I stay here.” Blue was trembling. “Jem, please. This . . . thing between us. It’s been . . . unexpected. To say the least. I really fucking wish I could stick around and, I don’t know, see where things go. But being down here is killing me. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Hey, it’s okay!” Jem clasped Blue’s hand in her own. “You don’t have to go. I’ll talk to Eva—you’ll have your very own VR bed by tomorrow. Trust me.”
Blue shook her head. “I don’t want to raise my kid in a cave. I’m sorry.” The tears spilled over, silently rolling down onto her cheeks. “I want to make a difference. Want to help Eva so badly. But I’m fucking useless.”
“Shhhh,” Jem said, kissing away her tears as she held her tight. Fighting to stifle the bitter cold that filled her at the sudden, miserable certainty that she was going to lose this woman. “Shhhh. It’s okay. You’re not useless! And you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Blue calmed down and looked at her. Hesitant. “What if . . . you came with me? What would happen to you? If they took your mods out?”
The thought of it sent a stab of anxious nausea twisting through Jem’s gut.
“I don’t know,” Jem said. “Maybe I’d be me, just slower. But I’ve had them since I was a kid. My brain has . . . grown around them. So . . .”
“Are you sure they wouldn’t make an exception for you?” Blue asked, incredulous. “It just doesn’t make any sense. Besides the fact that you could take out a platoon of their soldiers on your own. How many people live there, free from the Synth, because of you specifically?”
Jem shrugged. “The colonel commanding the base appreciates what we do, but has always made it clear that the Resistance Underground doesn’t have any actual authority over them. They had a few disasters with pre-war mods being hacked, and they’ve taken a zero-allowance policy. Maybe they’d let me keep mine, but . . .”
“I’m sorry,” Blue blurted out, cutting her off. “That was so shitty of me to even ask. Eva needs you. The Resistance needs you. That’s so much more important than me.”
“I—” Jem said, kissing her once “—completely—” twice “—disagree.” A third time, on the nape of her neck. “But don’t tell my boss, okay?”
After a while, Blue fell asleep in her arms; melting against her, very obviously relieved to have said the words she’d been holding back for weeks. Jem’s arm went numb underneath her, unpleasant tingling cold across the skin as Jem flexed her fingers, trying not to wake her girlfriend.
Not that she would have been able to sleep, anyway.
Jem rose early the next day, careful not to disturb the softly snoring woman beside her. She took a cold shower and put on her somewhat threadbare civilian clothes instead of the more formal Resistance uniform she’d grown accustomed to wearing as of late. Jem needed to talk to Eva as a friend, not as a subordinate. She strapped on her shielded holsters out of habit. Pistol on one hip, EMP blaster on the other. Even here she felt naked without them.
Jem punched a button beside the heavily armored door to the Alpha Core lab and waited several minutes until the panel responded with a buzz—the door cracking outward, silent on its thick hinges.
Eva leaned up against the doorframe with a whiskey bottle in hand. “Wellll,” she said. “If it isn’t my favorite person in the entire world. Just in time for the party! Will you walk into my parlor? Said the spider to the fly.” She flashed a wicked grin. “Have a drink.”
“A bit early for liquor,” Jem said, following Eva inside.
“Ohhhh, what does early mean anyway,” Eva said. “I don’t sleep, and we’re so deep underground, I don’t even remember the last time I saw the sun.”
Jem leaned against the wall, folding her arms. “Do you ever leave?”
Eva shook her head. “No ma’am. I am a recluse. A hermit. A subterranean agoraphobe. People come to me. Or Ezra goes to them.” She tapped her forehead. “Still got a few tangled knots of crazy to unravel. But I’ll be better soon.”
She took a swig from the bottle, and sighed, visibly relaxing. She offered Jem the bottle, but Jem shook her head, declining.
“What’s the occasion?”
“The completion of my masterpiece. The Grand Triumph of Human Ingenuity. The single tippity-tap-tap to send this house of cards tumbling into a pile.”
Jem took in a sharp breath, thinking of all the firepower she’d dispersed across the city. What was Eva planning? They didn’t have the manpower to take on the Philly Peacekeeper force, let alone Armitage’s full military might.
“Uh-oh,” Eva said. “I see worry etched into that stunningly beautiful face.” She grew more somber. Serious. “I hate keeping you in the dark like this. Please don’t think I take your trust for granted. I am so, so grateful for everything you do. If it weren’t for your help, I’d never have been able to complete this so quickly. And humanity will thank you. Trust me on that.”
“That’s . . . not what’s bothering me,” Jem said. Though Eva’s mysterious plan had indeed been her primary concern, until last night. “It’s Blue.”
Eva’s expression softened. A flash of guilt in her bright blue eyes. “Ah. Yes.”
“I’m sending a Runner to deliver a cure kit to Base Machado tomorrow,” Jem said. “I’d like Blue to go with him. And, if possible, I want to escort her there.”
“Jem,” Eva said delicately. “It’s just too dangerous. I can’t send her out there, not in good conscience. And I certainly can’t afford to spare you for the time it would take to go all the way there and back. Let alone the risk. I can’t afford to lose you, Jem. As a sister or a soldier.”
“That’s fine, I can stay. A security detail will do just as well. I know you’re worried about her, but she’s fully aware of the risks and would rather make the journey than stay here and—”
“Jem, listen—”
“No, you listen, Eva,” Jem said, heated. “Blue is losing her mind down here. Her claustrophobia’s really fucking with her, and I’m seriously unhappy with the fact that she came to you asking for VR to alleviate it and you flat-out refused to help her because . . . why? Because you take personal issue with VR?”
“You’re right,” Eva said, placating. “That was selfish of me, not letting her use VR. You know how I can be, I wasn’t thinking—I’ll have a VR bed delivered right away.”
Jem shook her head. “It’s too late for that. I tried to convince her but she’s made up her mind.”
“Jem,” Eva said, apologetic, and put a hand on Jem’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow her to leave.”
Jem brushed her hand aside, struggling not to get angry. “Why?”
“Jem, I—”
“It’s because of that, isn’t it?” Jem said, pointing at the twisting machinery of the Alpha Core. “Whatever you’re planning, that’s why you won’t let her leave. I’ve been moving a lot of se
rious firepower—I know something big is going down. Something dangerous. And I haven’t pushed, because I love you, and I trust you. But you need to trust me too. Whatever you’re doing, please let me in so I can help you. So I can understand why you’re being so goddamn stubborn.”
Eva stood there, conflicted, and Jem could tell that she wanted to tell her. Wanted to let Jem in so badly. But then she shook her head.
“This is bigger than Blue, Jem,” she said. “Bigger than you. Bigger than me. And for now, please, just keep trusting me. Only for a little while longer, okay? Then everything will become clear.”
Jem opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. Took a deep breath. Sighed.
“Gimme that,” she said, snatching the whiskey bottle from Eva’s hand and taking a swig. She grimaced, eyes watering.
Eva grinned. “That’s more like it.”
Jem leaned up against the wheeled medical bed. Miserable. “I hardly know Blue. But . . . I don’t want her to go. I’m going to do right by her, no matter what, but it’s just so . . .”
Eva leaned up beside Jem and squeezed Jem’s hand. “I know, little swan.”
“Have you ever been in love before?”
“Love, eh?” Eva arched a brow, chuckling. “One month in and you’re already dropping the L-bomb, huh?”
Jem felt her face go hot. “No, uh, I mean—”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Eva said. “There was this kid before I was taken. Total dork, but sweet. Funny. I’m a sucker for funny. We were fifteen. He was my first. And last, I suppose. It was okay. Better the next few times. But then . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t think it was love, but I’m glad I got to experience at least a little bit of something like it. Before the Synth took that away from me.”
Jem offered her the bottle, but Eva declined, so Jem left it on the floor beside the bed.
“I’ve got some work to do,” Eva said, looking haunted. Jem nodded and turned to leave, but Eva took her by the arm—stopping her. “And Jem?” She looked into Jem’s eyes, her gaze piercing. “Thank you.”
* * *
Flashing red. Wailing alarms.
Jem sat up at her desk with a gasp, heart pounding. She reeled for a moment, dazed and confused, but then remembered that she hadn’t slept at all the previous night and must have dozed off while reviewing this week’s operations.
Blue wasn’t in their bed. Struggling to remain calm, Jem slammed a hand against the wall comm, shouting to be heard over the alarms as she called for Eva. Called for Blue, Ezra, Dr. Blackwell, anyone!
No response.
She drew her pistol and went into the flashing red light of the halls.
Eva’s quarters first. If they were under attack, she would be the primary target. As much as Jem wanted to go find Blue—it was like Eva had said. This was bigger than either of them.
The door was unlocked. Jem burst into the room, pistol ready. No sign of Eva. No sign of a struggle, but that didn’t mean anything. If she wasn’t here, then she was probably—
The alarms cut. The flashing red lights went dim, replaced once more with soft white. The intercom crackled.
“Jem?” came Eva’s voice from the intercom. “Jem, are you there?”
Jem ran out to the hall comm and slammed her fist against the button. “Reading you, Eva,” she said, relief flooding her. “Loud and clear. The hell is going on?”
Eva laughed, sheepish. “I—uh—that may have been my fault. The Alpha Core, I had some automated functions running. They tripped the alarms.”
Jem breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Christ. You scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Where are you? And where are—”
“Hi, Jem,” Blue cut in. “We were just sitting down for breakfast. You fell asleep at your desk, but you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I didn’t realize it was a false alarm at first,” Eva said. “There’s a panic room hidden in the common area. I brought us all in, but, uh . . .”
“But Ms. Colladi hasn’t ever used it before,” Dr. Blackwell said, bemused. “And now we’re stuck.”
“It’s okay!” Eva said shrilly. “I’m overriding security now, this’ll just take a second and we’ll be right out—”
A shrill electric noise rang out from the intercom and the lights went dim, just for a moment. When they went back on, the armored blast door of the Alpha Core lab down the hall from Eva’s quarters silently opened.
“Wellll,” Eva said. “That should have opened every single lock in the facility. But we’re still locked in. So the good news is, I’ve narrowed this down to a mechanical issue, not software. The bad news is, I’m going to have to dismantle the panic room door from the inside. Which might take a few hours.”
Jem could hear the others groaning in the background.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jem said into the intercom. “I’ll head over now.”
“No, it’s fine!” Eva said. “There’s nothing you can do from the outside. We’ll be fine—we’re fully stocked with plenty of . . . water. And nutrition cubes.”
Blue made a noise of disgust.
“Go have some breakfast,” Eva continued. “The good doctor made waffles. Someone might as well enjoy them before they get cold.”
“All right,” Jem said. Hesitant. Eyeing the open door to the Alpha Core lab. “Actually . . . I think I might go grab some shut-eye.”
“Roger that,” Eva said. “Sweet dreams, vice-commander. Eva Colladi, signing off.”
Another crackle, and the intercom went silent.
Slowly, Jem holstered the pistol and went over to the Alpha Core lab.
The throne sat empty within. The twisting pipes and messy bundled cords lit colorfully by countless blinking lights behind it.
Jem knew she should just close the door. Knew she should just go to the common area and eat some waffles.
She was happy. Things were good. Eva trusted Jem and knew she would never betray her. Never go snooping where she didn’t belong. But . . . they’d be stuck in there for hours. And if Jem could see what Eva was planning . . . if she could know for sure that her worries were unfounded . . .
Jem stepped over the threshold into the lab. Took tentative steps past the wheeled bed to the steel throne. She sat. Took the helmet hanging to the side by its thick topknot of cords. Took a deep breath and pulled it down onto her head.
Jemma Burton became a god.
She’d had her mods for so long that the incredible amplification of her reflexes, intellect, and memory felt utterly normal to her. But this. Her body was distant, a tiny fragment of the whole that was Jemma Burton. She could see everything. Understand everything. Every science and art and philosophy that had eluded her. The entire contents of her mind, the collected artistic and academic works of mankind—every book, poem, language, song, film, all experienced in a vivid burst that she could somehow fully grasp, understand, and retain.
Jem focused in her attention, already losing track of time. Had it been milliseconds since she’d donned the Alpha Core helm? Or hours?
She felt the walls, experiencing the strange sensation of her mind becoming the limits of her body—her edges amorphous, abstract—a great sprawling, electric chaos in an abstract world that quickly came into focus around her as her immense digital mind adjusted.
It was strange. She was Jem, yet she wasn’t. The tiny Jem existed at the core of her being; this great swirling intellect around the speck of her mind—but somehow she knew that the influence of Jem’s human mind was still absolute.
She shrunk herself down, groping at the edges of this enclosed digital space. Though many of the Alpha Core’s processes were dedicated to her mind, near as much of it wasn’t a part of her at all, but a framework upon which this amorphous labyrinth of light and information that she existed within was built.
Time; there was no time. Or there was infinite time—she couldn’t be sure. But she needed to focus. Couldn’t let herself be distracted by the ecstasy of godhood. She was here fo
r Eva. Here to see what she was planning. Here to see what she’d been working on for so long, months that may well have been experienced as millennia to her oldest and dearest friend as she worked within this machine.
She came upon a sealed quadrant, a glowing core locked and hidden away within complex trillions of puzzles and dead ends. She closed upon it, her being stretching out into trillions of smaller protocols, each picking away at the individual corners of this mystery.
Slowly, she unraveled the quadrant to reveal a door. Locked—even to her. But the keyhole, the keyhole!
She peered through it—peered through a door in the sky high up over an impossibly secure world spread out in miniature below. An immense empty plane with a prison of light at the center. And within that prison, another mind. Another AI.
Trapped.
The AI was obscured by the prison of light, but as Jem looked, her nebulous mind pressing and straining against the keyhole, she saw through the light to a maelstrom of hellish agony that surrounded the screaming mind. The mind wasn’t trapped at the heart of the nightmare, Jem realized, but the source of it—horrifying visions constantly pumping from its center, angry, trying to get out, battering and wailing against the walls of its cage as it fought to infect the empty world beyond.
Jem didn’t understand what it was, but managed to peer through the boiling mass of pain and terror until she found, huddled up into a miserable ball at the very center, a young, terrified teenage girl. Naked and filthy, with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her face pressed into her knees.
Eva.
It was Eva as Jem had seen her on the Synth screens so many years ago. Wild-eyed, insane. Brand bloody, hair tangled and torn out in chunks. Face filthy and twitching as the eternity of suffering she endured played over and over and overandover andoverandover—
Jem pulled back, realizing that the nightmare storm surrounding the Eva AI was some sort of trap. Some sort of virus, reaching out with digital barbs to latch on to any intelligence it might come into contact with, to draw it in and force it to suffer the agony Eva had endured in Torment.