by Pond, Simone
“Maybe he’s dead,” Ava said.
“Don’t talk like that.”
“Well, it’s either that or some sick revenge ploy.”
“He wouldn’t …”
Morray might have had faith in Dickson, but Ava didn’t. He’d been working for Morray for a long time, and before that, he was chained to his father, Professor Morray. Relationships weren’t meant to last over centuries. Dickson was a brilliant programmer and capable of anything. Trapping Morray inside the mainframe would be the perfect way to break free of him. The thought made Ava shudder. She understood most of the mainframe coding, but if Dickson had intentionally planned this imprisonment, figuring out an escape would take a lot of deciphering and maybe even a miracle.
Morray sat quietly, then folded his head into his knees and wept. Her hand instinctively went up and started rubbing his back.
“I’m sorry. I know how much he means to you.” Her voice softened. “Maybe it’s neither of those things. He could be working on a program to get us out of this place.”
He collapsed into her lap and she let him stay for a while, although she wasn’t sure why. His fingers grazed her lower back, causing heat to spread through her limbs. Her breath quickened. Her urge to pull away was replaced with a stronger one: she needed to see what might happen. Tilting his head up, his eyes sparkled with such great intensity they drew her in. He gently touched her chin and slowly pulled her closer, bringing their mouths together.
Ava closed her eyes and let go. Her mind spun into a dance of colorful patterns. Electric currents pushed through her body, prickling her skin. She needed to get away. Instead, she arched her back and pressed in closer, letting the flames grow. I’m burning. Burning. Burning. The flames lifted her higher and higher. Morray continued kissing her, moaning in delight as his mouth devoured her lips and neck.
“I’m so pleased you’ve finally stopped fighting me, my dear. You’re mine. You’re all mine.”
Morray’s voice cut into the ecstasy like metal door clanging shut. The whirling buzz ceased and every muscle in Ava’s body iced over. What have I done? She pushed him and tried to move away. He grabbed her waist, keeping her close.
“Why are you stopping?” His dark hair was disheveled and his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his slender muscles.
She turned away, her face flush and full of shame. “Everything about this is wrong. So wrong.”
He removed his hand without an argument. “I don’t understand, Ava. It’s quite clear that you want me.”
She scooted further back, mortified that she had succumbed to him. A darkness she had never experienced before had commandeered her will. In a single instance, she had forgotten everything she had fought for: freedom and independence from this treacherous man. The greatest source of misery. Morray wanted to control everything and everyone. But he couldn’t control Ava, which made him want her more. Where was her conviction? Her true self was fragmenting and slipping away. The more time she stayed stuck inside the mainframe with Morray, the weaker she became. The coding must’ve been interfering with her ability to think straight. There was no other reason she’d willingly walk into the darkness.
“I don’t want you, Morray.” Ava didn’t look up.
“You sure acted like it.” His smile shouted victory.
“I’m in love with Joseph. I’m married.”
“Not in here, you’re not.”
“Don’t you understand? I’m still me in here. You are still you in here. And I don’t want you, Morray. I could never want you.”
He buttoned up his shirt and smoothed back his hair. “See what I mean about never saying never? It’s an impossible goal. In fact, your behavior just now proved my point, dear Ava.” He picked up his jacket and put it back on, winking at her.
Ava had been played––the tender act, his vulnerability and regret. None of it was real. He deserved a kick in the gut, but she didn’t want to touch him again.
“I could never love you,” she said.
“Who said anything about love?”
“Then why are you relentlessly chasing after me?”
“You don’t have to love a thing to want it.”
The word “thing” stung her like a poison dart, making her feel like an object rather than a human being. She had been running from the fear since she had escaped the Los Angeles City Center with Joseph many years ago. Morray would never let her forget that she wasn’t born or created out of love––that she was made in a lab, by him and Dickson. He wanted to twist her thinking and make her believe that because she had been made in a lab, she was just a thing, not worthy of human love or connection.
“You’re evil, Morray. In here, out there. It doesn’t make a difference where we are.” She held back her tears, not giving him the satisfaction.
“I suppose it doesn’t.” He stared blankly into her eyes––no remorse, tenderness, or even passion coming from them.
She ran off into the empty void until a sharp pain stabbed her ribs, causing her to collapse. How could pain be so real inside this imaginary world? Curling up, she cried, hating herself for being such a spineless fool. Images of Joseph filled her mind and haunted her. There was no escaping what she had done––what she had almost done. She lost that round to Morray, but it would never happen again. Never.
9
The guards escorted Grace down the cobblestone path to the closest transporter station.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked Faraday.
“Back to the Administrative Building, where you’ll stay locked up until the council votes on what to do with you.”
Faraday walked a few feet ahead and glanced over his shoulder, grinning as the moonlight gleamed in his eyes. Grace reminded herself it wasn’t the real moon. The real one was outside of the thick solar-paneled city center. And it probably wouldn’t be visible because the sky was leaden with rain clouds. The city center was only a facade, something that could be removed, just like Faraday.
“So I’m not getting a trial?” she asked.
“The Seattle City Center is not officially an integrated component of the entire system; therefore, it has a different set of rules.”
“Rules I’m sure you helped set in place, huh?” The metal bands tightened around her wrists, as if detecting her rising emotions.
Faraday spun around. “You’ll get a trial in front of the council. For now, I think it’s in your best interest to keep that mouth of yours shut. The things you say can be used against you.”
Grace nodded professionally, holding her temper at bay. She didn’t need to give him additional ammo. He’d keep using intimidation tactics, but she was ready for him and the council.
They arrived at the Administrative Building and Faraday led them down the corridor, stopping at Room 4011—the same room Dickson had held her prisoner during her mission. She got out of that situation and she’d get out of this one too. Faraday didn’t have a quarter of Dickson’s intelligence.
“What are you waiting for?” Faraday pushed Grace into the containment room.
The place was empty, no chairs or anything. Not a single window or air vent. Just blank walls, monitors, and a small bathroom in the back.
“This seems a bit extreme,” she said.
“I’ll have a lounger delivered in the morning. You’ve been living on the Outside for months now, I’m sure the floor won’t be anything out of the ordinary.”
She held up her hands, her wrists now a sick shade of purple. “Can you at least take off the bands?”
“Absolutely not. Not with your family’s history.” The door sealed shut, leaving Grace alone in the barren room.
“Screw you, you pompous asshole!” Grace yelled at the door, knowing Faraday couldn’t hear, but relieved to get it off her chest.
A tiny red light above the door flashed on. She wanted to flip off the camera, but stopped herself. Better not to add anything else to the list of offenses. She sat on the cold floor and stared at the walls, multiple red ligh
ts now dotting the room. They were monitoring her at 360 degrees, leaving zero privacy.
She got up and stepped inside the small bathroom and tried to close the door, but it wouldn’t shut. A giant mirror covered one of the walls—definitely a two-way.
“Really?”
She switched off the light, but a backup light came on. Her temper shot up a few degrees, but she had to stay calm and conserve energy. The marble tub looked a lot more comfortable than the floor. She unraveled a massive wad of toilet paper to use as a pillow, tossed it into the tub, and climbed inside. Resting her head against the soft paper, she closed her eyes. Everything was too quiet. She was used to the orchestra of crickets and frogs, the rustling pines, and the delicate cadence of Christian’s breathing. She pictured his rosy cheeks and long eyelashes.
“Goodnight, little guy,” she whispered.
By now, his health had probably returned. Nurse Ruth had a big mouth, but Grace trusted she’d keep him safe from Faraday. She fell into an uncomfortable sleep, clinging to that one strand of hope.
*
In the morning, Grace woke up to tingling pain in her fingers. The metal bands wore grooves in her skin, turning them ashen gray, and her fingertips swelled like a dead carp. She sat up in the hard marble tub and stretched. Her legs wobbled under her weight so she had to steady herself. She went into the main room and waited in the silence, contemplating her case. The door slid open and two women in white jumpsuits entered.
“We’re here to assist you.” Her voice was as tight as the bun holding back her dark plastered hair. “I’m Miss Adams and this is Miss Parker.” She motioned to the perfectly proportioned woman with a short blonde bob. “I’m going to remove the bands, so we can take off that filthy clothing and give you a scrub down.” The sturdy woman grinned, showing off her dull crooked teeth. No way had she come from any of the city centers. She was an Outsider turned Insider.
“Yeah, sure.” Grace held out her hands.
“But before I do that, I’d like to warn you that Miss Parker has a powerful stun device that will knock you into tomorrow. I highly recommend that you fully cooperate.”
Grace glanced over to Miss Parker. The woman’s high cheekbones and flawlessly gleaming skin screamed Insider. Blondie held up the silver wand and winked her twinkling blue eyes. Grace felt the urge to kick her in the gut, take that wand, and …
“Do you understand, Miss Strader?” Miss Adams straightened her broad shoulders.
Grace considered escaping. She had been trained in combat and could impair both women. She might be able to drag the lighter Miss Parker over to the access panel and use her internal chip to open the door. But even if she did get out of the room and past the guards, which is statistically doubtful, someone would track her down. Besides, what good would escaping do?
“You wouldn’t get far. Guards would be on you before you made it into the hallway.” Miss Parker winked.
Miss Adams placed her hands on her thick hips. “Whaddya say? Think you can behave?”
“Of course. I’m not here to cause trouble.” Grace held out her sore, raw wrists. Miss Adams released the device and slipped it into her side pocket.
Grace reluctantly removed her boots and pants, and pulled the ratty sweater over her head. The pile of clothes looked criminal against the pristine floors. In her bra and underwear, she followed the women into the bathroom. Miss Adams turned on the water. Meanwhile, Miss Parker kept the wand in plain view.
“Can I have some privacy?” Grace asked.
“Absolutely not.” Miss Adams grinned.
Grace wanted to punch the woman. Instead, she begrudgingly removed her bra and underwear. Closing her eyes, she stood under the piping hot water, letting it rinse away the coat of dirt and mud. While she had been living with Cari, she had bathed in their heated pools until the weather had gotten too cold. It had been a few weeks since she had a thorough cleaning. She pretended the two women weren’t watching and began scrubbing her scalp and body, the fresh scent of lilacs calming her. For a moment, her worries rinsed away and she forgot about the two strangers standing guard.
“There’s just something about running water,” she said, taking her time.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Miss Adams shut off the shower and set the blowers to dry off Grace. She then handed her a white jumpsuit, which Grace unenthusiastically put on.
“Turn around,” Miss Adams grunted.
“For what?”
“I need to brush your hair.”
“I think I can handle it.” Grace reached for the comb, but Miss Adams yanked it away.
“Just cooperate.”
Miss Adams began brushing Grace’s long brown hair. Some of the knots in the back were tougher to get through. As she tugged, Grace lost her balance and leaned into Miss Adams to keep from falling down.
“That’s fine. It’s not like she’s going out on the town or anything,” Miss Parker said.
“Where am I going?” Grace asked.
“Nowhere,” the women said in unison.
Grace didn’t like the sound of that. Everything about her arrest had been extreme and reminiscent of the old days, validating her concerns: Faraday’s power had grown and he was taking over the city center. She might not get a chance to stand trial before the council. She needed to find Blythe to get more information, devising a strategy to make that happen.
The ladies escorted Grace into the main room. While she was showering, someone had delivered a lounger––just like the infamous loungers used to plug into the mainframe. Memories rushed back: her futile searches trying to track down her mother after she had disappeared with Morray. The searches had become too painful, physically and emotionally. It had been over six months since her last attempt.
“How long does Faraday plan on containing me?” Grace asked, stalling.
“You’ll stay here during your trial with the council.”
“So, how long will that take?”
“That’s up to the council and Director Faraday.” Miss Adams forced Grace into the lounger and strapped her down.
“Is this necessary? I mean, it’s not like I can get out of this room.”
“We’re following orders from Faraday,” Miss Adams said.
“I don’t understand why Faraday’s even involved. He’s the Director of the Silicon Valley Academy. Since when does he have clout in Seattle?”
Miss Parker’s perfect smile spread across her symmetrical face. “You really have been off the grid. He’s campaigning for President of the Pacific Northwest Region.”
Bile rose up her throat. If he became president, he’d have executive control of the city center. He’d have the power to open the city and bring thousands of people to Seattle. And the natives would perish. Grace shifted around in the lounger.
Miss Adams grinned with her crooked teeth. “Might as well get comfy.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“We’ll return for bathroom breaks and meals,” she said.
The two women headed to the door.
“I’m supposed to just sit here and wait?”
“Yes,” they said in unison, then exited the room.
“Screw you!” Grace yelled as the door closed behind them. She slammed her head against the lounger and squirmed around, but the straps only dug into her wrists and ankles.
The lights dimmed and she settled back, knowing if she wanted to reach Blythe, she’d need to chill out. First she’d have to get out of the restraints. The strap around her right wrist had more wiggle room than the left. In the dark, she went to work carefully wriggling her hand. After a while and some serious skin burn, Grace freed her right hand. She traced her fingers along the side of her body, gently touching the pocket of her jumpsuit. Underneath the material, she felt the smooth edges of the metal containment device she had stealthily removed from Miss Adams’ pocket during the hair brushing incident in the bathroom. How long did she have before Miss Adams discovered it was missing? Grace knew th
e determined Outsider turned Insider would return by herself to quietly correct her mistake. That’s when she’d make her move.
She tried to free her other hand from the strap, but it was too tight. Pulling it through meant losing some skin and breaking her thumb. Her ankles were also locked in pretty secure. But she wasn’t about to give up; she knew Miss Adams would return soon.
10
Ava started a crusade to keep her mind sharp. Her goal: stay clear of Morray. She began a daily routine of interval training to remain on high alert. Staying busy and putting up a strong defense meant Morray couldn’t worm his way into her thoughts like a virus. His laughter ricocheted around the space as Ava ran sprints, counted squats, and performed pushups in her far off corner. Whenever Mooray hummed, she sang hymns she had learned from the elders in her village in Ojai. When she wasn’t exercising or singing, she’d reflect on her life, holding each memory like a precious and exquisite gem that needed constant protection. As time passed––or whatever it was doing inside the white space––Ava equipped herself with the armor of a thousand warriors. Morray made attempts to get her attention, but he couldn’t break through her barriers.
“Eventually you’ll have to speak to me,” he yelled.
Ignoring the bait, she’d do another set of pushups. Engaging in any sort of a conversation, or even acknowledging Morray’s presence, would be like wandering into the valley of darkness, and Ava wanted to live.
“Come on, Ava. Aren’t you lonely?”
A thousand jumping jacks and more sit-ups.
“We could be in here indefinitely. Let’s figure out a way to be amicable.”
Five thousand hundred-yard dashes––in a row.
Morray put on his jacket and shoes, tucking in his shirt, and went back to whatever it was he was doing, Ava no longer cared to know.
*
During one of her long-distance runs, Ava spotted a glimmer in the distance. Was she having a hallucination? Or was this a glitch in the program? She stopped running and honed in on the aberration. It appeared to be a rectangular shape. She had never seen something different inside their prison, which meant the program had changed. She ran as fast as her phantom legs could carry her. As she got closer to the anomaly, the shape became more defined. It was a door. A huge silver door.
