“That’s ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “I think you’ll reconsider that word choice after you see what you did to Sage. Oh, he’s still alive, but he’s nothing but a drooling vessel. You destroyed all vestiges of his personality.”
“All I did was crush his source code!” I said in disbelief. “How did that—”
“The net,” Lionel interrupted angrily, thumping his cane against the ground. “Your action triggered an energy surge that doubled back and translated through his net. The old man’s brain is fried, and he’ll be that way until he dies. Which won’t be long.” He sighed irritably and ran a hand over his face, before adding, “I’m sorry for getting frustrated. I already answered these questions for your neural clone, and she was every bit as belligerent and obstinate as you are now.”
I blinked. “She was?”
He snorted. “As soon as your clone came into the system and realized that everything had been a simulation, she was fit to be tied. Luckily, she could use the Tower’s cameras to confirm what I was saying, so she calmed down quickly enough to realize that there was still work to be done. She got in touch with Maddox, and after having to explain the situation a few times, finally convinced the woman to go on the attack. They got everyone.” He paused for a satisfied chuckle, and then glanced at me.
I could only imagine how I appeared. I was rattled by what he was telling me, unable to emotionally separate myself from the things I had seen and experienced in the simulation. My heart ached with Zoe’s loss, and even though he had assured me she was alive, I didn’t quite believe it. I couldn’t shake the memory of her in that bed, slowly bleeding to death.
“I need to call my friends,” I said abruptly. “I’m sorry, but I just need to—”
“Check on them, yes,” Lionel replied, nodding knowingly. “System requests visual connection to Cornelius’s cameras in the war room, as well as an open channel.”
For several seconds nothing happened, but Lionel didn’t seem concerned by that, his expression mildly bored. Behind him, the wall suddenly flickered, and a screen appeared on it, revealing several angles of the war room in my quarters. I immediately spotted Zoe sitting in one of the chairs in the conference room, her head resting on Eric’s massive shoulder, and her boots kicked off on the floor. Her mouth was partially open, and as I watched, a soft, sharp snore sounded through the speakers.
Tears spilled from my eyes, and I pressed both hands over my mouth to keep my cry of relief from getting out. They were all there—all perfectly alive and whole. Maddox was standing with Quess behind the desk, going over something on the computer, while Tian was lying on the floor in her usual Tian-like fashion, her legs resting on the wall. Liam was lying next to her in a more conventional way, but neither one of them was sleeping—they were talking. Chatting as if everything in the world hadn’t fallen apart and then somehow put itself back together. The only person who wasn’t still was Grey. He was prowling a circle around the room, his hands clutched tightly behind him.
I sobbed silently, the tangled web of unnecessary grief and relief leaving me weak and shaken. I was happy they were alive, grateful I hadn’t lost them, yet scared at how real it had felt and how close I had come to losing them.
After I had taken several moments to let it all out, I quickly started to pull myself together, wanting—no, needing—to hear the sounds of their voices. It took a few shaky breaths, accompanied by several swipes of my finger under my eyes to sweep away the wetness, before I eventually managed to steady myself enough to say, “Hey, guys.”
Several heads jerked up and looked around, searching for the source of my voice, and then Maddox pointed to one of the screens, where I could see the smallest image of myself.
“Liana!” Tian cried, and I watched her quickly scramble to her feet, race around the conference table, and launch herself up the stairs using her lashes, her patience at an end. Grey was a few steps behind her, walking at a fast pace, while Liam trailed behind them, his fists in his pockets. The only two who didn’t move were Zoe and Eric—and that was because Zoe was still out like a light. I felt mildly annoyed at that, given that her simulated death had caused me so much pain and trauma, and then smiled to myself.
She was alive. She was breathing. I could get over her sleeping through this.
“Thank God you’re okay,” Maddox said, bringing my focus back to her. “I knew you were recovering from becoming an AI, but we were getting nervous. Your counterpart wasn’t giving up your location because apparently coming out of the neural cloning process can be quite traumatizing, and too much stimulation could overwhelm you and cause you to suffer a psychotic break. After seeing Sage… I felt inclined to follow her lead.”
It didn’t take me long to figure out that she meant my neural clone, and it suddenly sank in that Liana—the other Liana—had already gotten to work cleaning up the mess that was left in the onslaught of Sage’s plan. I wasn’t sure how much she’d gotten done, but there was a way to find out.
“What all has… my counterpart been up to?” I asked.
“Let’s see… She helped us track down every single legacy that got out when the cells opened up, notified all the departments that they pretty much need to find a new representative for the council, and had the sentinels dragged down to the furnaces in Cogstown and melted down. Oh, Lacey’s fine, by the way. Dylan as well. Did you really make her climb the side of the Tower?”
I paused for a second, taking a moment to recall when that happened in that timeline, and realized that we had started climbing in the real world before Tony threw us off the Tower, and she had obeyed my orders and continued up.
“What about Rose?” I asked. “She was in the sentinel.”
“The sentinel lost power about an hour after you left Dylan,” Grey replied for Maddox. He looked rough, his mouth turned down in a sad expression, his eyes filled with loss and pain. And I suddenly realized that Leo must’ve been uploaded at some point, against his will, which meant Grey had lost him suddenly, and without warning.
It suddenly hit me that I had, too, and I couldn’t help but feel a crushing wave of despair slam into me. My friends were alive, but I had lost someone after all.
We both had.
I met Grey’s eyes, and there was a flash of recognition there, and a slow darkening. “I’m all right,” he said, before I could ask. “I… Leo’s gone, Liana. I… I don’t know what happened. One minute he was there, the next he was gone, and I…”
He faltered, and my heart broke all over again. Leo was gone. Both of us had lost him, and neither of us knew what it meant for the other. My spirits plummeted, but I forced myself to push it aside to deal with later. We didn’t need to hash it out right then and there, and I was exhausted. Even sleeping for five hours hadn’t done much to replenish me, and all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and go to sleep. “We can talk about it later,” I replied with a smile that I didn’t quite feel, trying to reassure him that everything was okay. “I’ll head up to the Citadel and see you all soon. Just… stay there, okay?”
Maddox frowned, clearly confused by my order to remain in the quarters, but she nodded. “See you soon.”
The screen went blank a second later, and I released a heavy breath. In truth, I wasn’t sure how to feel. My friends were alive, but the trauma at seeing them dying still lingered. I knew it would consume my nightmares for years to come, but what was worse was that it was a weight the AI version of me was going to have to carry as well. I wondered what it was going to be like interacting with her. Would she appear at council meetings by Leo’s side? Would I have to watch them standing there together, and only reminisce that it used to be Leo and me like that?
It felt strange thinking of her as some interloper who had stolen my man away from me. She was me. The exact same person, only… without a body. Able to share something with Leo that I never could.
“How are you feeling?” Lionel asked from behind me, and I sighed heavily, shaking my head.
“I don
’t know,” I replied honestly. “Tired, upset, emotionally drained… I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that it’s over. That nothing I experienced actually happened, and yet we still won.”
“Some of what you experienced did translate through to the real world,” Lionel pointed out. “But I can understand. I know you’re tired, but someone wants to talk to you.”
I turned in time to see his form flicker out, replaced by an amber glow that I recognized intimately—it was the color of my skin only a short time ago. It was weird watching the lines of my body form, like a mirror that drew me in to create suspense before I could see my final image.
I took a step back as the crimson armor formed over her, the purple wings behind her, and lifted an eyebrow, already concerned with her decisions to keep those as part of her permanent image. “You really think the citizens of the Tower are going to respond well to that?” I asked, giving her the onceover.
“The citizens of the Tower aren’t going to know about me,” she replied, folding her arms over her chest and lifting an eyebrow. “Leo and I talked it over, and we decided to keep my existence a secret from everyone except the council. In time the citizens might be able to handle the truth, but many of them are still too brainwashed by Sage’s changes in the system over the years.”
I pressed my lips together but had to give her credit. It was smart to restrict information like that, especially with the way things were currently. “It’s a good idea,” I agreed with a nod.
“I know it is,” she replied dryly, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was still me, but also not. It was so weird. “I’m here to talk to you about what comes next. For you.”
I frowned, giving her a wary look. “Are you firing me as Champion?”
The AI version of me snorted derisively and shook her head. “Not at all,” she replied. “But… you have to know this is going to be really weird for all of us. Do you really want to go to council meetings and have to watch Leo and me working together, side by side? You never wanted to be Champion—it was just something thrust upon you through forces out of your own control. You have an out, if you want to take it. Leo’s already told everyone that you single-handedly defeated Sage and Sadie’s evil plot to destroy Scipio, so you could retire tomorrow, and everyone would understand.”
I chuckled at that, and then shook my head. “I… I’m not sure what I want,” I told her truthfully.
“Oh, you are. You just haven’t had as much time as I have to think about it.”
“You’ve only had five hours,” I shot back tartly, not liking how she already seemed to know what I wanted. Sure, she was me, but that didn’t mean she was able to read my mind.
“An eternity to a computer program,” she replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Now, I think you can agree with me that this Tower is too small for the both of us. But, if you’re willing to hear me out, I have a great idea for a new department that I think you’d be suited to take point on.”
I stared at her for a second, both intrigued and a little frightened by the fact that my neural clone was already creating a whole new department. That was a little fast, and I had no idea what function another department could even serve in the Tower! Still, the questions the idea spun up in me were far more intriguing than the speed with which she was moving, and I took a step closer and gave her a considering look.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, and she grinned.
Epilogue
One year later
“Hey, Liana!” Quess shouted from behind me.
I turned from where I was inventorying supplies, lifting a hand to shield my eyes from the bright glare of the morning sun hitting Greenery 8’s roof. The young man was walking over with another crate in his hands, but had a smaller white box on top and a very pleased grin on his face. “Morale Officer and Official Cheermeister of the Diplomacy Corp reporting for duty, with the first bit of good news of the day!”
Excitement thrummed through me as he looked at the small box, and I hurriedly stepped away from the stack of boxes to go to him. “Okay, one: Morale Officer, yes, but you are not introducing yourself as the Cheermeister to the Patrian delegation, or anyone, ever.” Quess groaned in mock disappointment, but the smile on his face never wavered as we stopped in front of each other. “Two… is that the gift?”
“Sure is. Dinah says it contains every survey of the outside environment since the Tower’s creation and historical events of note, as well as an assortment of what she coined ‘cultural gems.’ Think they’ll like it?”
I grinned as I picked up the box and pulled open the lid, barely able to contain my pleasure when I saw the data crystal nestled in the center, glowing slightly. It had taken hours to persuade the council to give it up—one of the few things that they had argued with me about—and even though I had won, they might still try to convince me one more time that an air filtration system would be a better gift. They just couldn’t see the value in passing along elements of our history or culture instead of a piece of technology that served a purpose. But I knew the environmental studies would give the Patrians some idea as to how to help us eradicate the radiation seeping into the area around the Tower, hopefully making it habitable again.
Which was why I took the crystal out of the box and slid it into the pocket of my purple uniform. I didn’t want the council members changing their minds and taking it back, and was willing to steal it should they ask for its return.
It still felt weird looking down and seeing myself clad in purple. Years of wearing nothing but a Knight’s crimsons made the new color stick out like a sore thumb, but I was getting used to it. As the leader of the newly formed Diplomacy Corp, I had to, because purple was the color Leo and Lily—which was what my AI counterpart was calling herself now—had chosen for us. My contribution had been the patches; each uniform had a patch on one arm that depicted the Tower, and was woven together using the colors of every department. It had been important to me to include it, as a symbol to the citizens that the Diplomacy Corp worked only in the best interest of all the people, no matter what department they came from. We took anyone who couldn’t make it in the other departments and trained them to be explorers, ambassadors, scientists, historians, negotiators, investigators, councilors… The list was as long as my arm, because there was always some new niche role to fill.
The department’s role in the Tower varied, but centered around one idea: how can we help the people have a better, more fulfilling life in the Tower? It took me a while, but I finally figured out that we could start by ensuring equity between departments. Whenever a Cog’s transfer request was rejected from the Core and we suspected inter-departmental bias was a factor, they could come to us for an unbiased investigation into the issue. We would then submit our findings to Leo and Lily, so they could override or enforce the decision. Whenever a citizen felt that a Knight was ignoring their problem, they could come to us, and we would investigate that Knight, and said problem, on our own. Whenever an individual felt overwhelmed by their life inside the Tower, we would talk to them, and make them feel less alone.
But then the concept had grown. We had started hosting inter-departmental functions to help develop better relationships between Tower members, had advocated for non-uniformed clothes to be allowed back into the Tower so that the residents didn’t have to wear their department’s colors all the time, had negotiated territorial and labor disputes, held parties, and now had plans to start the very first inter-departmental sports competition.
But most importantly, we offered a place to anyone who didn’t have one.
And today, our mission was finally going to expand outside of the Tower, in the first cross-cultural exchange between nations.
“I’m sure the Patrians will like it,” I replied in answer to Quess’s question. “And to be honest, I think the council is genuinely in love with this exchange idea, but they’re too afraid to say it. They’re all new to this, remember? With the exception of Lacey and myself, they�
�ve only been council members for a year.”
Quess gave me a bemused look. “You’ve only been on the council for a few days longer than them, and you’ve changed positions to boot. I’m not sure you have a leg to stand on with that argument.”
I shrugged, but he wasn’t wrong—and sometimes I wished the other councilors would remember that I was every bit as inexperienced as they were at leading. But ever since they learned the new Scipio had half my personality in it, they seemed to constantly defer to my judgment, taking cues and advice from me alone. It was awkward, because I didn’t always think the decision I was making was the best one, so I wound up having to parrot the phrase, “I don’t know, what do you think?” when things got to be a little much.
It was half the reason I was so eager to leave; the members of the council needed to start forming opinions on their own, without my influence.
“Be that as it may, the exchange benefits all of us—the Tower and the Patrians. They’ll get a better look into our lifestyle and culture, and we will do the same with theirs. Hopefully this will lead to trade, a peace treaty, and maybe even a mutual defense pact against whatever is happening in the South. Not to mention the training and observation programs and survival courses! We’re going to gain a deeper understanding about each other’s culture, the inner workings of our governments and societies, insight into who we are and what our goals are…” I trailed off, trying to find more reasons to sell my program to him, but he laughed good-naturedly.
“You know I’m good with this,” he replied jovially. “We get to stay in a house. With doors that lead outside to the ground. Where we can pick a direction and keep walking forever!”
“Until you run into a lake or a mountain,” came a masculine voice from behind me, and I turned to behold my twin. The last year of living with the Patrians had changed him, but only for the better. He seemed calmer. Though “reserved” was a better word to describe it, I thought. It had come from living and acting as the Tower’s unofficial ambassador for the past year, and keeping the Patrians apprised of our situation until we got everything figured out. I knew it had been stressful for him—half the time, the council would tell him one thing, and then wind up changing it the next day, which drove him crazy—but he had made it work, and had grown into his own. It hadn’t been easy living without him for the last year, only getting to see him during one of his debriefing missions, but after the second Requiem Day, we hadn’t been sure what help we would need getting everything back online, and wanted to keep a line of communication open in case the power drain had caused one of the greeneries to fail. Starvation had been our primary concern, as the refrigeration had gone offline and spoiled most of our reserve crops and food, but we’d muddled through.
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