The Glitch Saga- The Complete Collection

by Stephanie Flint

  Pong?

  Confusion—games are inefficient.

  One of the humans… their commander… cuts himself from his elitist council. He strides toward us. Face grim, determined. He’s angry—the stronger of the bunch.

  Release yourself, Master Zaytsev.

  Wiggling—wriggling—a new struggle, a different game. We should keep him here, make him activate the program.

  The commander’s thoughts suggest retaliation if we do.

  Better to let him think we are compliant.

  My body jerks.

  I sit up fast and nearly hit my head against Val’s chin.

  “Tim!” She wraps her arms around me.

  Lady Black stands a meter away, her eyebrows raised with concern. I swallow hard. I saw something in the code, but I can’t place what. The vessel hovers in the hangar, considerably larger than the first, and a few stray eyes mottle the dark, leathery exterior that bulges with lumpy bits of flesh. They don’t blink.

  I groan and rub my forehead. I hate connecting with hubs.

  The commander offers me his hand. He pulls me up effortlessly. The corners of his mustache twitch with his smile. “Good job, Master Zaytsev. Without your work, we might have lost the entire vessel.”

  My heart pounds and I sway on my feet. “Thanks,” I murmur. Val leans me against her shoulder.

  Commander Rick puffs out his chest and strides toward the new vessel. He stops halfway to it, turns to address us, and clasps his hands behind his back. “Good work, everyone. It brings me great pleasure to introduce the second Legion Spore vessel into our fine fleet. This one shall be named the CLS Manticore. A powerful new airship… second of its kind.”

  We each clap half-heartedly—Benjamin the most enthusiastic—but something feels wrong. Something with the Manticore’s thought process. Superiority, anger—I need to check that the programs have installed properly.

  Val helps me limp to the computer station, where I type everything by hand. All the codes are in place. The fail-safes, the backups. Except for nearly losing one of the life-spirit elementals, the merging went without a hitch. But underneath it all, hidden in bits and pieces of each program, I finally find the code I’ve been searching for. The code responsible for the first Legion Spore’s rogue personality.

  I felt the embedded files when I was linked. I separate the files now and examine them as a whole. It’s a program meant to receive a mind, a pilot, but I don’t understand how Lady Winters hid it so well. My chest constricts tight. That program was meant to connect the Legion Spore’s operator to the Legion Spore’s power matrix.

  The Legion Spore was meant to be a host—a vessel for a spirit.

  I lick my lips. Lady Winters must have wanted to use the Legion Spore’s powers for herself, but she had to hide her plans… had to keep anyone else from knowing she intended to take power. Why else would she install such a program, given that she could connect telepathically? That program must be why the first one wanted me to join the hub. Not only would our connection have been more efficient, this hidden program was trying to run and failing, and kept failing because no one took the helm. The Legion Spore must have tried to create a mind of its own to fill the gap. With each new glitch, it drew in bits of the original inhabitants’ personalities and created a personality of its own.

  A cold chill sweeps through me. There are a hundred individuals in the Manticore, and most of them aren’t friendly. I’m going to have to disable Lady Winters’ pilot program before any glitches can influence it. Worse, we took a considerable number of life-spirit elementals to pull a single one back in line. Whoever that person was, there’s a good chance they’re going to be the primary glitch of influence.

  I mentally thumb through the files and logs, and then tighten my hand around Val’s. She glances at me, concern written on her face. “What is it?”

  “The hacker,” I whisper, puzzled. “Commander Kita. He’s the one who nearly died.”

  Val frowns. “I thought we removed Kita from the roster.”

  “We did.” Goosebumps crawl across my skin, and I swear one of the Manticore’s red-rimmed eyes are staring at me. “I checked the roster several times. He wasn’t on there.” I swallow hard. This is impossible. This can’t be happening.

  “Maybe it’s just a typo,” Val suggests, her voice frantic. “Maybe the technicians forgot to switch the name in the database. Kita was supposed to be a stronger spirit, right? He shouldn’t have had any problems with the merge.”

  “Benjamin said that when he nearly died, he chose to become a spirit, and that others might try the same thing,” I whisper to her. I look up. “Benjamin?”

  He teleports beside me and peeks over my shoulder at the computer. I jump at his sudden appearance. The spirit narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Yes?

  “Is it possible someone could make themselves a spirit before they’re about to die?”

  He shrugs. The process would be difficult. In this situation, it is more likely that they would wait for the moment they were physically weakest before making the attempt.

  I clench my hands on the edge of the computer stand to keep them from shaking. “Did you sense anything unusual during the Manticore’s creation?”

  The spirit throws his head back, laughs, and then wipes away an imaginary tear. Timothy, was there anything normal about the Manticore’s creation?

  I press my lips together. He has a point, though he could’ve answered my question.

  “Master Zaytsev?” Stuart descends the metal steps and comes to a standstill beside me. He raises his chin toward the newly-made vessel. “You believe your so-called hacker is responsible for this?”

  I nod.

  “From my vantage point, I believe the person you indicated was conscious longer than the others. He resisted the merge at least to the point that my view was obstructed by the shapeshifters’ formation of the hull.”

  “Do you think he might have tried to kill himself?”

  “No.” Stuart’s pale eyes go cold. “I am suggesting that he may have attempted spiritual ascendance at the last possible moment.”

  “I’ll look into it, thank you,” I say. The servant nods once, and then returns to Lady Black and the commander.

  Val puts her hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath. “At least the rest of the merge went smoothly,” I note.

  Yes, Master Zaytsev. The merge went… smoothly. We have you to thank for our creation, don’t we?

  I freeze at the echoing, discordant voices in my head. There’s a hint of malice underneath the Manticore’s satisfaction, and when I glance at the vessel, one of the eyes fixes directly on me and Val.

  How did Kita get in there? I specifically removed him from the roster…

  Oh, Master Zaytsev. We are not spiteful. We are not programmed to have malice. As for the hacker, he was dreaming for such a long time before he heard your concerns. Before he heard your plans to remove him, and then realized he could be more powerful if he was the one who remembered. Once, he was an ikiryō. Now he is an onryō. We are certain, however, that you are capable of removing this… ghost. After all, his interference in our creation is only a glitch.

  I skim the database for the terms the Manticore used. According to Japanese legend, an ikiryō is a spirit of extreme emotion who left his living body to pursue his goals. An onryō is a spirit of the deceased, one intent on claiming vengeance for a wrongdoing. I would argue that technically, Kita’s body is still alive, and thus, he is not an onryō.

  The details are trivial, Master Zaytsev. The point is, that particular component was a vengeful individual. Better that he has joined us. His powers can now be put to more efficient use. By the way, congratulations on your parenthood. We assume you wish us to keep this a secret, as well?

  I shift on my feet. Despite my initial reservations, there’s no need to keep Val’s pregnancy a secret. Everyone probably already knows, even though we haven’t made an official announcement.

  Of course, Master. It
spits the words.

  Mentally I tap into the computer system and check my fail-safes. My heart skips a beat. The first fail-safe is gone. According to the monitor, everything’s in place. But with my techno sight power, I can see that the protocol is nowhere to be found.

  “Tim?” Val presses a hand to my forehead. “Are you all right?”

  I shake my head and pull her close, order the program to reinstall, and watch the progress until it’s complete. “Commander?”

  “Yes?” Commander Rick straightens his shirt collar over his pendant’s chain.

  I rub my hands together, attempting to remain calm despite my unease. “Can you scan the Manticore for hostile thoughts?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “It is as benevolent as the first. Why do you ask?”

  A deep, resonating laughter resounds in my head, a cacophony of voices in estranged harmony. Have no fear, Master Zaytsev. We will be far more superior in battle than our docile brethren.

  My fingers twitch around the efficiency charm at my neck. The commander has to be able to see the emotion; he’s the strongest telepath I know. “You didn’t hear that?”

  “Hear what? Why don’t you take the rest of the evening off?” He smiles. “You need to rest before your work continues tomorrow morning.”

  Tomorrow morning? I need to remove that pilot program—the source of the new personality—tonight. But if he can’t hear what I hear…

  The Manticore is blocking its thoughts from him.

  “Commander,” I protest, “the Manticore just said it isn’t ‘our docile brethren.’ It isn’t friendly.”

  “It said it will be superior in battle,” the commander corrects. “A bit cheeky, so perhaps you should double-check that personality glitch you’ve mentioned previously, but I admire it’s confidence.” Commander Rick pats my shoulder, chuckling heartily. I gape at him. Impossible. He was able to break through the previous Legion Spore’s thoughts—

  This one is twice the size.

  I shiver as Commander Rick ushers me and Val from the room. “I will handle this from here—enjoy yourselves.” He gives me that same determined look he gives me when he decides he wants to have tea.

  “Yes, sir,” I whisper, numb.

  He closes the door behind us, and Val gives me a funny look. “You’re pale,” she says, touching my cheek. “Are you all right?”

  “The Manticore,” I whisper, shaking. “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like there’s this terrible, simmering anger just beneath the surface of its thoughts.”

  She tilts her head. “Don’t worry so much. You’ve done all right with the first one. It’ll just take time.” She loops her arm in mine and gently guides me from the tall, steel door to the elevator. “Besides, didn’t you say that you found the program responsible for the problems?”

  I stare at her. Given how worried she was earlier, how upset she was with her enhanced insight and her premonitions about my impending being “gone” from the next Camaraderie ball, it’s hard to believe she’s this calm now—especially since she was the one who wanted me to get Kita off the roster.

  Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe it’s just the aftereffect of being linked to something that was experiencing so much pain and resentment that it’s locked in my psyche. Maybe that’s why I keep thinking the other leaders are acting like everything’s fine.

  Everything is fine, Master Zaytsev, the vessel chides. Your concern is unnecessary. Perhaps you should join us. That would be more efficient. Our minds linked, together, serving the Camaraderie and destroying the Oriental Alliance, mech by precious mech. Far more efficient if you join us, Master Zaytsev.

  After all, we are legion and you, Master, are only one.

  Val and I stand in the lobby of the Siberian facility, well above the hangar that houses the Camaraderie’s latest creation. She leans her head on my shoulder, her dark curls cascading over my back. I stare out the window at the frozen landscape. I’ve checked the cameras several times, set them on a simple loop, and locked out my tablet so neither of the Legion Spores can listen in. The emerald pendant weighs heavy around my neck. I wanted to make the Community more efficient, not create an airship that wants to obliterate its enemy. What happens if the thing goes rogue, or if the OA manages to reprogram it to attack the Community?

  Val nuzzles closer in an uncomfortable reminder of the Martinez dreams.

  What will I find in the new vessel’s memories? I mentally hum the song about Lady Black’s father. Here’s to our comrades and our calling, hoping our lives might be saved.

  The glitches that plagued the first Legion Spore came from Martinez and anyone whose memories weren’t erased. Question is, which glitch spawned the Legion Spore’s suggestion of escape? Was it Martinez?

  If so, then he was the primary influence on the Legion Spore’s artificial personality.

  Val looks over her shoulder to the silent, gleaming hall and its solitary elevator. I comb my fingers through her hair and examine her soft curves, her full lips, and her dark eyes. The image is tainted with memories of Em—Lady Black.

  Skin creases at the corners of Val’s eyes. “Tim?”

  I sink into one of the chairs by the window. “I’m sorry. Every time I look at you—” I know she doesn’t want to hear it, but Martinez said that lovers don’t keep secrets. I stroke a stray hair behind Val’s ear. She catches my hand in hers and holds it against her cheek.

  “What is it?”

  I close my eyes. “Every time I try to do anything romantic with you, I see Lady Black.” Her shoulders slouch. “I don’t want to, I promise. I love you. But the last thing Martinez wanted, before he lost the battle, was to remember her. His memories are strong.”

  Val’s lips twist into a scowl. “So he passed his memories to you.” Her voice is bitter.

  “That’s what it seems like.”

  She scoots her body to face the door instead of me. “Have you talked to Lady Black about his memories yet?”

  “Not outside of the meeting.” What good that did, seeing as how I now have an angry vessel on my hands.

  Val raises her eyebrows. “Why not? Don’t you think it might help?”

  I start to speak, and then realize I’m not sure what to say. That I’m afraid Lady Black will try to seduce me and I’ll be unfaithful? That Martinez’s memories will be too strong and I’ll forget myself? My breath catches in my throat. It’s that. I’m afraid I’ll forget who I am. Those dreams were as real as if I’d been the one to kick the walls and scream curses at uncaring guards. As if I’d been at my lady’s side, sharing moments where we were one and the same. As if I’d been sitting in the chair, pain shooting through me as the merge took place.

  I don’t know who I am. I’m not a rebel. I don’t support their desire to destroy the Community. I’m not a true Camaraderie leader, either. Beasties unnerve me—useful as they might be—and I never liked the creation of the Legion Spores. The first one haunted me with its nightmares, and I really don’t want to know what nightmares are waiting for me if I have to sleep in the Manticore.

  Val taps her toes. “Well?”

  I take her hands in mine. She squints at me as if trying to piece together my thoughts, and she bites her lip uncertainly. I smile as the tiny tip of one of her fangs juts between them.

  “I’m having a hard time separating myself from the vessel’s memories,” I explain. “They should be quarantined now, but I think I need a bit more time to… I don’t know… figure out which feelings belong to me and which feelings belonged to Martinez. I’m trying. I really am—”

  “Tim,” Val interrupts me with a pair of fingers to my lips that feels like an odd reversal of one of the Martinez and Lady Black memories. “I love you.” She meets my gaze. “It must be horrible to have memories that don’t belong to you. To pilot that thing.”

  A small laugh escapes my throat and I shake my head in disbelief at her ability to understand. I hug her tight. “Thank you.”

  “If something happens, and y
ou decide to run, take me with you. All right?”

  I blink at her, confused. “If I run?” Where did that come from? She has that distant look, the one where she seems to see something that isn’t there.

  I swallow hard. “Val…”

  “I’m starting to think” —she lowers her eyes, swaying nervously, and scuffs her shoe on the floor. It leaves a dark streak on the shining tile— “maybe that’s why my vision said you were gone. Maybe you ran. Maybe you took the Legion Spore’s advice about us needing to flee.”

  I wrap my arms around her, trying to comfort her. But I need comforting, too. “That whole incident was just a glitch. I have no plan of running. And even if I did, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind. Besides, you’re right. Now that I know what I need to fix, we shouldn’t have to worry about what Kita’s memories might have done to the Manticore. I’ll remove the program and, after that, it should be a cold, calculating hub. Nothing more.”

  A wave of disappointment—not my own—flushes through me, and then vanishes just as quickly. I take a deep breath. I thought I was separated from the first Legion Spore, but evidently not.

  Once I figure out how to wipe the Manticore’s personality, it won’t be long before I have to do the same to the Legion Spore. But I’m not sure I want to do that, and it’s certainly not what the Legion Spore wants.

  The Manticore hovers above the gleaming metal floor. Several eyes pop out across its hull, and each turn their red-tinted irises toward me. Unlike the first Legion Spore, with its dark brown exterior, this one has a deep red tint underlying its leathery hide. Even its tentacles are darker, almost crimson. They curl menacingly underneath its body.

  My breath comes out as steam. Despite the tangled mass of bodies and wires, the air is frigid. There’s no point in delaying the inspection; the sooner I get it done, the sooner I’m free to return to the Cuban base with Val. “Manticore, please let me board.”

  The silence stretches thin.

  “Manticore, please let me—”

  Master Zaytsev, we prefer to be called Legion Spore. We are legion. We are many. We are not a manticore.