by Ramona Finn
Skye rolls her eyes. “It’s odd. And odd things should be looked at. And…and doesn’t this place look like inside a connect?”
With a nod, I lay my hand against the glass wall, spreading out my fingers over the cool surface. The glass reflects me—brown hair, a wide mouth, smooth skin, long, lean limbs and wide eyes. I stare at myself and then let my stare lose focus.
This does feel like inside a connect—but inside a connect, I would just imagine things to call up data. Can I do that here? When my image becomes fuzzy, a small, square image forms. I stare at it, willing it to become clear, but it seems the power is weak in this system. The image fades slightly—but if this really is like inside a connect…
Excited now, I take a deep breath and ask for a map…and the path to Dr. Sig. I choose her because I don’t know who else to reference—she must have been here at some time, right? Slowly, a path forms, lighting up under my touch. Jerking my hand away, I glance over at Alis and Skye. They’re still arguing about why it’s not dusty and have walked ahead of me.
I glance back at the glass and then decide to try the path just shown to me—why not, after all. I have nothing to lose. Calling to Alis and Skye, I lead them deeper into the maze of glass corridors. It is almost familiar to me—like a connect, but also like a memory. We reach a corridor that is blocked by glass.
“We should go.” Alis starts to turn around, but Skye says, “I’m not sure I want to go back.” She sounds unhappy. I glance at them and then take a step closer to the glass wall in front of us, I concentrate on the map shown to me. I touch the glass wall. It slides open, revealing a room. I step inside.
This room, unlike others, has a few chairs made of metal—and more glass walls. There are no tables, no gear I can see, but there’s something familiar about all of this. Reaching out, I touch the nearest wall. The room brightens so the walls glow brighter. The light lets us see to find our way. On one wall, something like a screen appears.
“We’re in her lab,” I murmur. I don’t know if that really is true, but it feels right. I must know this place because of memories that I carry from Dr. Sig—memories the AI gave me. Did she know she had done that? Was it a mistake—or something the AI could not prevent? Conie tried to hide them from me, but being here is stirring a connection to Dr. Sig that is stronger than I ever knew.
Skye comes up to stand next to me and stares at the blank screen on the glass wall. “What is this place?”
“A lab—I think. Like the Gear Room we used to have in the tunnels.”
Alis walks over to the screen on the wall and touches it. She jerks her hand away. “It feels warm. Like there’s power here.”
Cold washes over me. Power? Why? What was this place? Why is it hidden under Empties? Did Dr. Sig hide it for a reason? Maybe to keep it hidden from the AI?
Taking a deep breath, I glance around the room. Can I access information here as I would in a connect?
I hesitate, and then reach for the screen. It is warm, but when I ask it to call up information, the screen remains stubbornly blank. Mouth pressed tight, I push my hand against the warming glass and demand access.
Bits of data start to flow, glittering lines of code that fade again.
Skye’s voice sounds soft as she breaths out one word. “Wow.”
“This is…more than odd,” Alis says. “We should leave.”
“How can you say that?” Skye says and I hear that mix of longing and anxiety in her voice. She still misses the Norm—she still wants to find a way to go back where it would be safe. She knows this place matters, too, but I think she knows more on an instinctive level.
Frowning, I focus on the screen. The screen remains dark with only blips of light, but data starts to slip into my head.
Memories flicker—only they aren’t really mine, and yet they are. Random scenes that flash past almost too quickly. I grab at one.
For a flash, I see Dr. Sig reflected in the glass. She smiles at a tall man who stands next to her, his arms around the waist. I blink and the image vanishes.
Was that my family? My mother and father?
I don’t know, but I do know one thing—this is Dr. Constance Sig’s lab. Or it was. This is a connection to her that is separate from the AI and that might mean it has information vital to defeating the AI.
A shiver races down my spine. Pulling my hand from the warm glass, I look around the room. “Dr. Sig was here, in this room, working on technology to create the AI. But she wasn’t just creating something new—she was adapting alien gear that crashed here on Earth.”
Alis hugs herself. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“You did a connect?” Skye asks.
I glance from Alis to Skye—they’re both looking worried. “When I was in the Norm, the AI showed me…or maybe I just was able to get glimpses…of how it was created. Dr. Sig somehow blended part of her consciousness into a machine that became the AI. It calls itself Conie—like it really is Constance Sig. But it’s alien at its core. It doesn’t really understand humanity, but it thinks it can protect humans without really knowing what it is protecting.”
Alis glances around and hunches her shoulders. “I’m not sure I want to be here anymore.”
I shake my head. “No…it’s safe. This may look like a connect, but that’s because the AI is using this structure for its artificial world. But this place is real. And it seems to be shielded, or at least offline from the AI’s network. I’m not getting a true connect. In fact, I’m having trouble pulling up data at all. The systems are either not working right or running out of power, or maybe both.”
Skye frowns. “If you’re having trouble with a hack here, how do you know all this?”
I ignore her question and stare at the walls. “There must be more—and a way to access the data that could still be here.”
Walking, I trail a hand over the walls, searching for other activation points. The glass goes from feeling cool to warm, and more screens appear inside the walls. I place my hand flat on one, but it remains blank. Disappointment curls inside me. The need to know is stronger than almost anything else.
I slide a hand over another screen. This one feels slightly curved. Power seems to flicker within, as if it’s been so long since anyone has activated it that it is having trouble waking up, but this one seems to be in better working condition than any others. If I could just reach into it—push into a connect the way I was able to connect to a drone with just thoughts.
Closing my eyes, I push into the wiring, letting go of myself and reaching into the circuits. They are old—and mostly made of light. Bright orbs slip past me, streaking past. The power is weak—fading. It’s geothermal and the vents have been cooling for so long that the system has been shutting down anything deemed unnecessary. So much has been lost—forgotten. But there is storage. Backup.
Connection: secure.
The backup isn’t blue like the AI’s construct. This connect is mostly blacks and dark hues, like the sky just after sunset. Emptiness stretches out in every direction. The back of my neck prickles, and I realize the backup holds some of the alien code—that’s what I’m seeing.
The realization scares me—and it is exhilarating. How long has it been since anyone has seen this? I tread carefully, trying to unravel the dark code that speeds past me. It is almost as if the alien code has taken over all the systems—or if it is caught here in endless loops. I see the same code over and over. How is it that I was reaching for the backups and hacked this instead? Is it because the alien code needs so very little power to function?
I start to follow the lines of code, drawn by the dark, sinuous movements. It’s seductive—so compact. I can sense the power within it. No wonder Dr. Sig wanted to use this. It’s…elegant. New lines of code weave and form and I reach out to just touch…
“Lib?” Alis reaches out and grabs my arm. Startled, eyes flying open, I stare at her. I’d almost forgotten that she and Skye are with me.
“What?” I blurt out
the word, angry for the interruption. I curl my fingers tight. Maybe Alis was smart to interrupt. I might be trying to touch things better left alone for now. But I have to know if this alien code could help us defeat the AI.
Alis and Skye share a look as if they’re more than worried about me. Skye shrugs as if whatever Alis wants is nothing she is going to decide. Alis faces me and says, “We should head back or we’re going to miss any kind of meal or water.”
She’s right. And I can always come back here. Alis turns and walks out. Skye follows, glancing back at me as if to make sure I am coming. I give one last look at the walls. The screens slowly fade away until the walls just look like glass again. Next time I’ll come back on my own.
We have a little trouble finding our way back—the map is still in my head, but I am too distracted to think about it.
Back in the main room, the clans are still in their own groups, but the arguments have died down. No one looks all that happy, but no one is shouting.
Alis and Skye head straight to the area staked out by the Tracker Clan. I can smell the smoke of a fire and that seems out of place here. My stomach grumbles from the lack of food and the smell of meat roasting, but I linger in the glass hallway for a moment longer. I almost want to turn back and head to the room right now. However, maybe the screens aren’t working for me because I am the one who needs rest and food.
With a heavy sigh, I head over to join the Tracker Clan. But all I can think about is the connect I had in Dr. Sig’s lab.
After we eat, a few from the clans mingle. All except the Fighter Clan, which seems to keep to itself.
But Red Kite leaves her clan and strides across the room. Her stare locks onto me, her eyes narrow slightly, but then she grins. What does that means? Is this a challenge?
I hope not. I can fight—Wolf taught me—but I’m not sure I’d ever win against someone who has trained her entire life for combat.
Wolf is talking with other clan leaders still. I don’t know what he’s saying, but judging by their hard faces it isn’t anything they want to hear.
I clean the little food I’ve been given—we still have to share what little we have—and a shadow falls across me. I glance up and see Bird standing over me.
She sits next to me and waves toward Wolf. “He’s arguing that they should let you speak and tell your full story. But Red Kite won’t listen to anyone now and keeps telling everyone there is no need to hold council.”
I push out a breath. Wolf’s fighting for me sends warm flutters through my chest, but I’m not sure he can win this fight. So why bother?
I glance at Bird. “What if I really can’t be trusted and I don’t even know it?”
Bird rolls her eyes. “You gave up the biogear. That counts for something.” She stands and puts one hand on her hip. She’s so small, yet filled with so much fire. “Your whole story can be told. All you have to do is challenge the leaders for the right. But you’d better do it before Red Kite convinces the other clan leaders that you’re dangerous.”I glance up at Bird. I’ve touched alien code. I’ve battled the AI. I realize Red Kite is actually right—I am dangerous. The only question is who is in the greatest danger from my being alive—the AI, the Rogues, or me?
Chapter Ten
You can be heard. All you have to do is challenge the leaders for the right.
Bird’s words echo in my mind. It seems odd she’d tell me something like this—we haven’t always been friends, and she hated the biogear I had the Tracker Clan using. Is this more about her supporting Wolf and the Tracker Clan against the other clans? And do I really want to tell my whole story to all these strangers?
I’m not sure about that, and since we’ve lost the tunnels, I’m not sure Bird has her smoke to see visions any longer. But Bird and I at least came to terms about not using biogear—it was making me too much like the AI. Does Bird now think I can save the Rogues—and the world—from the AI? Or does she still see doom ahead for all of us, just as the AI showed me? Maybe she thinks it doesn’t matter what anyone says—that it’s action that matters. I’d have to agree with that idea. But do I do as she’s urging and challenge the clan leaders? Is that really going to get anything done?
With a soft groan, I roll over. I’m tired…so very tired. The Glass Hall never seems to grow darker or lighter—it just is. And while my fingers itch to get back to the room that must be Dr. Sig’s lab, I should wait until I’m rested. Going there exhausted isn’t going to help me uncover new data, and I want to be cautious about dealing with the alien code. I don’t know if that’s what’s really wrong with the AI, or if that could be our salvation.
I’ve found an empty corner of the hall. It is warm enough to use my outer shirt and my pouch for a pillow. Oddly, the floor seems soft—softer than dirt or sand—even though it seems to be glass. It’s warm and my mind starts to drift into odd dreams.
The Glass Hall is empty. Panic races through me in a sharp bite like that of the biogear connecting, but I don’t know why. My heart hammers against my chest. I have no idea where everyone has gone.
“Skye?” I call out, but I don’t. That is the way of dreams, but I can’t seem to wake myself. My voice echoes against the hard walls.
Something on the floor flutters …a brightly colored ribbon. It is from Bird. She wears ribbons pinned to her skin clothing and in her hair.
With trembling fingers, I pick up the ribbon. “Bird? Where are you?”
This is just a dream, but it feels so real. I hear a laugh behind me and spin around. Nothing.
The laugh, low and taunting, echoes again from behind me. This time when I turn, I glimpse a shadow.
I follow it, heading back to Dr. Sig’s lab. Inside the room, the shadow seems to be lurking, hiding in the walls, but how can it do that.
Gripping the ribbon tightly as if that will anchor me, I grind out the question. “What is going on?”
A soft voice answers me. “Lib.”
I turn again, expecting another shadow, but this time Constance Sig stands in her lab. Or is this the AI who wears Dr. Sig’s face? Is there even a difference between them?
I study the features I know so well—brown hair pulled up and back. Her hair lays perfectly smooth. Her face is oval with a chin that tapers to a point. The high cheekbones and hollows below and the sharp jaw line make her seem angular. Her body is angular as well—tall and lean. Like me. I cannot tell if her eyes are those of the AI—are they too blue? Too bright? Or am I dreaming of Dr. Sig? She steps closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for you to find me, Lib.”
Now I am confused. I take a step backwards. My back hits a glass wall. For a moment, I feel as if I am staring at my own reflection in glass, not at Dr. Sig. But I am not her. Shaking my head, I tell her, “I’ve been searching for Dr. Sig.”
Is that true? Is that why I keep going back to the Empties?
Her smile widens. “Have you been trying to come home?”
It sounds so nice—home. I have a home with the Tracker Clan, but we lost our tunnels. Do we live here now?
As if she knows my thoughts—and why wouldn’t she if she is part of my dream—she gestures to the Glass Hall. “Home.”
I glance around the room—the lab. It looks different today. The walls display screens, all of them humming with energy. A soft, lavender glow seems to be emanating from them. This is the mix of alien gear and what Dr. Sig created—this is how it should be.
“This is where it started, don’t you remember?”
I frown. “Why would I remember? I wasn’t here.”
“But you were. I was here. This is where we fused two technologies to create the future.” Turning, she walks to a wall and touches a screen. Code dances over the screen—I know it, and yet I don’t.
And now I don’t know if I am dreaming, or if I have connected to the Glass Hall somehow. Is this really Dr. Sig? Have I found her?
She turns to face me. “And now you know what you have to do, don’t you?”
Her eyes seem
to glow brighter—and bluer. Is this really Dr. Sig—or Conie, the AI? Conie—Control Over the Normal Inhabited Environment. The AI created to monitor and maintain the Norm. But now the AI wants to take the Norm away from this world and destroy everything left behind.
“It’s the only way,” she says in that same calm voice. A dream voice. “We have to save the Earth. It’s time—”
I jerk awake and sit up. That either breaks the dream or breaks my connect to whatever lives within the walls of the Glass Hall. Sweat sticks my skin shirt to my back and drips down between my breasts. I’m breathing hard and shaking. I wipe at the sweat cooling on my face, blink and try to focus on the main hall. Hot panic sears through me—I can’t see any of the Rogue clans. Why aren’t they here?
A hand clamps down on my shoulder. “You’re up. Good.”
Alis offers me a water skin and sits beside me. “You slept really late, but I figured it didn’t matter.”
“Where is everyone?”
She waves a hand to the entrance of the Glass Hall. “Out on scavenges. Seems most of the other clans scavenge by day—or at least the Fighter Clan does and they pretty much either shamed or strong-armed the other clans into going out with them. Said we need supplies and food and Red Kite said she knows where to get both.”
Rubbing my eyes, I glance around. I still do not know if that was a dream, a vision, or a connect. I glance at the floor, and decide it would be best not to touch it with my bare hands.
Alis digs into the pouch hanging across her chest and pulls out a chunk of dried meat. “Hungry?”
With a nod, I take the meat and take a bite. It’s dried snake, salty, but good. I end up eating the rest of it quickly, take a long drink of water and then ask, “Where’s Skye? Did she go with the others? And where are those who were hurt? They can’t be out on a scavenge.”
Alis waves to an area on our right. “Croc set up a room for the injured. He’s with them now. Skye went exploring. She said she didn’t want to sit around doing nothing, and she didn’t want to hang around a bunch of Rogues who can’t figure the truth when it’s shoved under their noses.” Her mouth twists up on one side. “I happen to agree with her so I stayed.”