by Ramona Finn
Wolf holds the torch high. He lets go of my arm and turns to drag others into the cave. I stagger toward the back, counting heads. Most of the clan is either leaning against the cave walls, coughing even harder than I am, or have sat down in the dirt, shoulders slumped. They all look exhausted and dirty. Crow trudges deeper into the cave. Alis and Skye stagger out of the dark night, windblown and fall to the dirt floor. The tightness in my chest eases—we are all here. Even Croc, who helps the wounded to the back of the cave. But we seem to have lost our last two ATs.
Outside, the wind howls. The clan gathers at the back of the cave, which is shallow and smells of bear. Wolf’s torch is growing weak, but we have no other wood. Most of the clan is already asleep. The day has been long. I sit with my arms around my knees and my back to the wall, listening to the wind. Every now and then a gust sneaks inside the cave, slapping me with sand and cold.
Skye sleeps curled up with her head pillowed on her arms. Alis sleeps sitting upright next to me. Looking at her, I can’t help thinking about Dat who sometimes seemed like Alis’ shadow. I know now what it must have been like for him to feel the dirt filling his lungs, to know the desperation of death coming closer. I want to remember him and mourn him, but I wonder also if he is one of the lucky ones. He will never have to face thirsty or hunger, or the AI’s fury.
I am thirsty, hungry and unwilling to sleep for fear of dreams. Pushing to my feet, I see Crow’s head come up. He watches me, but says nothing and doesn’t beckon me over. I’m grateful. He’s not the person I’m looking for right now.
I find Wolf sitting next to the fading light of the torch he holds. Dark circles bruise the skin beneath his eyes. His mouth pulls down in a slight frown, but he looks good enough to me.
He seems strong. Determined. Safe.
I put my back against the wall, slide down to sit and lean against him.
He glances over at me. “Water?”
I shake my head. I want some, but I know others will need it more. “Not now. Will the sun be up soon?”
Wolf makes a face, but says, “Soon.”
He always knows these things. Shifting to move a pebble out from under my butt, I ask, “Is a meeting of the clans like a Tracker council meeting? I mean, do you all talk, or do you just have leaders talk?”
He rubs at his eyes—they must feel as gritty as mine do. “Depends on how many clans come. Bird should be able to get two clans—maybe Pike will get the others.”
I consider his words and try to measure mine carefully in response. “How many clans are there?”
He shrugs. “No one counts. I know of four. There may be more. Some clans never come out to meet anyone, but you can see traces of them—tracks from scavenges or bones from hunts.”
I wait for one breath, and then blurt out the question I’ve been wanting to ask, “What about speaking to the other clans about the AI?”
Wolf holds very still. His dark eyes lock onto mine. My chest seems frozen. I lick my lips. I hope he is not angry, but I have to know if Wolf is giving up the fight against the AI.
His frown deepens, and finally he says, “What do you want to tell them? How we were beat? How we had to run?”
I stiffen and stand up. “We got into the Norm. We…Raj’s program might have damaged the AI. We haven’t seen the Norm active. We have to tell them the truth.”
He comes to his feet in a slow face move and blocks me from moving away. “And once you tell the clans this, then what? You want to ask for their help? For them to fight and die?”
Face burning, I face him. “Why not? Better to die fighting—isn’t that the Rogue way?”
He winces like I’ve struck him. “Even better to live. Lib, I won’t lead Rogues to certain death. You have a plan, let me know. Then we can talk to the clans.”
“In other words, figure out a way to fight first. What if the best plan is to get all the clans to join against the AI? But that’s not something you want to ask them to do, is it? Why not? Are you afraid the Fighter Clan will take the lead? That the Tracker Clan might have to work with an enemy clan?”
He reaches for my hand, but I jerk back. He makes a frustrated sound in his throat. “Why are you being so difficult?”
I stare at him. Part of me wants desperately to give in to him—to just let someone else take over this fight. But, somehow, I am a creation of the AI. Whether birthed in a womb or in some test tube, I know in my heart that I am whatever she made me to be. And Conie said I am the salvation of humanity. There is no escaping that. I can never give up this fight.
Letting out a sigh, I shake my head. “I don’t want to argue anymore. But I am not giving up on this.”
“Even if this battle may take all of the clans, and it may cost all our lives?”
All I can do is nod, for somehow we must stop the AI—and we have to save those in the Norm from Conie.
Chapter Six
The next morning, sand fills half the entrance to the cave. We have to climb out over the dust and into the harsh light. We have time to drink a few sips of water and eat some of the dried meat. We need more supplies. The sky is a pale blue and in the distance I can see the curving edge of the Norm—we are walking around it, I realize. We once tried to find the far side of the Norm, but it is too vast for that. But now I can see a new part of it—the metal shines in the light, almost blinding.
We start out before it is too hot, coming down from the cliff and walking with the Norm to one side and the cliffs to the other.
At the hottest part of the day, Wolf calls a halt, and we find a little shelter under the cliff overhangs. As everyone settles into whatever shade they can find, Wolf jogs over to me. I glance up, a little surprised he is coming over to me.
He stops in front of me and asks, “Think you can find a platform?”
“A working one?” I ask. I shrug. “Maybe.”
He nods. “Take Skye. I’m taking Crow and Mouse to see if we can find any plants with water in them. Maybe dig up some roots.”
I nod. The plants with water—the cactus—seem to be harder and harder to find. But a lot of the scrub plants have soft, tasty roots. I glance at Crow, who stands behind Wolf, frowning and rubbing at the scar on his face. He shakes his head as if he thinks the idea of trying to scavenge any food is useless.
Turning back to Wolf, I push my shoulders back. “We’ll try.” I wish I had more than Skye going with me, but when I glance at Alis, she sits with her shoulders slumped and her pale skin turning pink. She doesn’t look as if she’ll be of much use. I nod and tell Wolf, “We’ll follow after you when we get the supplies.”
If we can scavenge anything from the nearest platform.
Wolf drags a hand through his dark hair. “The clan can’t stay here long. Only until the sun starts to go down.”
I nod. “I know.”
His mouth pulls down. “Be careful.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. Warmth spreads through my body. I put my hand over his, and then turn and head out to find Skye.
But I am not certain we’ll be able to scavenge anything from the Norm—the AI has it locked up tight.
It seems to take forever to find a platform, but Skye spots one at last, and points to the sunlight glittering off the railing and metal panels. Even if this goes as smoothly as I hope, we won’t be able to carry much with us. But some water is better than none.
Skye perks up as we head to the platform, but we’re both keeping an eye on the sky, looking for drones or scabs. Nothing shows up.
The platform looks like an old one. One pillar is half rusted and hanging down. The roof sags. The floor looks clogged by sand and faded from the sun. I step up to the railing—that seems intact. Skye puts a hand on my arm. “Are you sure you want to try a hack?”
I shake my head. “We need water. And…well, this is not the first time the two of us have worked together. What is the problem? Do you think something will go wrong?”
Skye drops her hand and rubs the back of her neck. “First the AI seems like i
t’s dead, then it shakes the earth—that was the AI, wasn’t it? So… how safe is it to go poking around inside the AI with a connect?”
With a shrug, I wave at the railing that will let me connect. “When has this ever been safe?”
Skye lets out a long breath. She wets her lips—she is as thirsty as I am, but I also share her worries. She pulls a face and says, “I…we’ve made the AI into an enemy. This is a lot more dangerous than it used to be.”
I glance at the railing. Will the AI know I’ve connected? Or did Raj’s code damage Conie’s core? I realize my palms are sweating, but I also really want a peek inside—if I can get one. “I’m not stupid enough to think that I can sneak by the AI without any sort of detection. She’s always watching—but we might not even be able to make a connect.”
Skye backs up a step. “I almost wish that’s true. Make it quick.”
She turns and walks away. For a moment, I can only stare at her back and her long hair, being pulled by the wind. Something has changed inside her. She no longer even wants to try a connect—she seems to freeze up over the idea. We’ve saved each other’s lives, but we’ve also grown apart and I don’t know why.
Taking a breath, my feet planted wide on the platform, I put my palm against the railing. For a moment, nothing happens. The metal is warm—and nothing sparks. I should feel a prick against my palm. I close my eyes—and open them only to find myself still standing on the platform.
I hate this.
And I decide I am done playing by the AI’s rules. I am going to force a connect.
I yank the railing out, exposing bare wiring. Light flashes along one wire. I grab it.
Closing my eyes, I will myself into the system—I have no biogear, but I am certain now I don’t need it. My biogear exists inside me. For a moment, I only feel sweat sticking my shirt to my back. I hear only the wind singing through the metal of the platform. I let that fade, and focus not on my hand, but on the thin thread deep inside me—the one that tugs me into dreams.
My heartbeats slows. My breathing seems to stop. The wire in my hand warms.
I open my eyes.
I stand in a world of cool blue, endless walls. Familiar lines of filing cabinets to my left and right go on endlessly in front of me. And behind me. I wait, my breath tight in my chest, or that is how it feels even in this artificial world. Will Conie send scabs after me—or sentinels who act as virtual guards.
The room seems paler than usual—and I hear no sounds.
I summon a screen, will it to exist and begin my search.
Water.
Code dances over the screen, lines of information that is somehow something I understand. The information temps as it always does—I always want to know more. But I must focus. The clan needs water and we need it in containers Skye and I can carry.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. This is taking too long. And then an image jumps out of the code and I stop the search.
Raj.
Trembling, I don’t know if I want to know more, but I cannot resist. I have to know.
I expand the image and see Raj’s face. He looks tired, his dark skin an odd gray and his dark, curly hair seems shorter than it used to be.
He stares at me, and his voice echoes in my head. If you’ve found this, then I’m dead. Or worse. I know that’s hard on you, Lib, but you’re going to have to let it go. There are other things at stake. You know what’s most important.
My throat tightens and my heart thuds in my chest with dull, heavy beats. I want to call out to him, but I know I can’t. This is just some of Raj’s hidden code. A message he left just in case I came back for him.
This isn’t your fault, whatever’s happened to me. I made my own choices. I don’t regret them. What you need to know is that the AI is going to launch the Norm soon. Testing has started and things are going to get bad. You have to stop it, Lib. You’re the only one who can.
Raj’s message ends. The screen goes back to lines and lines of code scrolling past. I clench a fist. I want to go after him—I want to find him and get him out of here. But Raj is right—it is too late.
Raj can’t come back. If he is not dead, he is part of the system. Conie has integrated him.
Reminding myself that I have a job to do, I resume the search for water. I find access, and revise the code. We have no containers, so I need the water to be pulled from the Norm and delivered to the platform. That’s more risky than anything else. Once I’m done, I shut down the screen and step back.
With a blink, I’m back in the Outside, my palm tingling. The wire is cold now and dead. I’m left wondering how I forced this connect. I open and close my hand. I have more power than I know, and it almost frightens me. But, to defeat the AI—to really beat Conie—I may have to access the parts of me that she wanted to hide from me.
Glancing over, I see Skye watching with huge, blue eyes. She hugs herself and stays away from me. “You were in there a long time—that wasn’t quick.”
I wince. “It is what it is.”
Skye drops her arms to her sides. “Any longer and I was going to have to get in there to get you out.” She sounds angry—and worried.
And I suddenly know Skye wouldn’t have been able to make the connect. Not here and not now. I glance at my hand again. I forced this connect—it wasn’t a normal one. I shouldn’t have been able to hack a connect with just one wire.
Glancing at Skye, I tell her. “Water’s coming.”
Skye frowns. “Coming from where?”
I step out of the creaking platform. It feels as if it’s ready to fall apart. The sun is hot after the cool blue of the artificial world. I keep my head down to avoid the glare. And I listen.
“It’s quiet.” I whisper the words.
Skye starts to nod, but stops and lifts her head. She turns and her face pales.
“Drone,” I tell her quietly. “It’s bringing the water. Stay low and stay next to the platform. Don’t think. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.”
Skye glances at me. She doesn’t move, so I grab her hand and drag her against one of the platform pillars and push her against it. I stand next to the pillar opposite her. If she moves, she’s dead. The drones move in fast, going from a black dot in the sky to a humming black orb.
I hold my breath and try to lock stares with Skye, but she is staring at the ground.
Don’t move. Don’t move.
Willing Skye to stay where she is, I hold myself still and send images out of the platform empty and dusty.
The drone stops over the platform. It sinks down and rotates seeming as if to face me.
Nothing here. Empty platform.
I keep sending the images, pushing them out as I pushed out the connect. If Conie can invade my dreams, I should be able to use that thread to push back—to send images.
Something slides open on the drone’s black sphere and it extends one thin arm.
Water. Leave water. Prime command.
The drone reaches inside its sphere and pulls out one container and then another and then another and then a fourth. It settles them on the sand. Skye shifts a tiny bit. The drone whirls, a red light blinking on.
Shadow—play of light. Return. Now!
I slam out the last order, staring at the drone, willing myself into its circuits and code. For a second, the world becomes virtual—I see pale blue and connections and orders flowing past in bursts of light. For a moment, it seems as if I will be sucked into this world—I can get lost here in information. And I want that—I want to know more.
A crash and the spit of dying circuits pulls me from that other place. Blinking, letting out the breath I’d been holding, I see Skye standing over the drone. It’s glowing red eye fades to black. Skye holds one of the platform poles in her hand. Behind her, the platform creaks and falls into the sand. The drone’s eye starts to glow again and Skye slams the metal pole down on it, battering it to pieces.
When she’s done, I walk over and kick at the gear. “It was goin
g to leave.”
Skye drops the piece of metal. “How do you know?”
I shake my head. How do I tell her that for an instant, I was the drone? I was inside it. I was connected without even touching it.
I shiver.
The done is dead. I wave at Skye to grab two of the containers. When I lift the other two, my arms protest. They’re heavy. But I don’t want to give up a drop.
I also don’t want to think about the things I have learned about myself today. But I will have to face them soon enough—and I will have to learn how to focus these new skills. If I can.
Chapter Seven
We struggle, but get the water back to the clan. The containers leave my hands sore and my shoulders aching. But everyone is happy to see us. Wolf and the others also scavenged two huge lizards, three snakes and a rabbit as well as roots. We eat that night—not enough to fill my stomach, but some. I watch the sky, but no more drones come out.
But I still keep watch.
The next morning Skye seems distant and unhappy so I sit next to her and ask, “What’s wrong?”
She lifts one shoulder and seems reluctant to answer, but eventually admits, “I’m not sure I want to meet the other Rogues.”
I open my mouth to reassure her, but nothing comes out. I thought she was still thinking of the connect. Instead, she looks to the future, and I have no idea what to say. We don’t have long to eat—and there is not much to fill us, so we start to walk again.
In the distance, I notice familiar shapes jutting up into the sky like dark spires warning of past destruction. But the Empties I know lie in another direction. Catching up to Crow, I ask, “What is that?”
He glances at me. “You thought there was only one set of Empties? There are lots of them scattered around. I hear the Empties once covered most of the land.”
My jaw slackens. “Lots of Empties,” I mutter. Have I been looking in the wrong set of Empties all this time for my answers?
“These…the ones with the Glass Hall, they’re like neutral territory for clans.” He chooses his words like he tastes them first to see if they feel right. “There used to be a lot more clans, and more clan wars. Got bad enough, fighting over what we could get from the Empties, that something had to give.”