by David Meyer
Sanza arched an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
The girl nodded at Titus. “He said we should experiment, try to invent things.”
That was true. Six months ago, he’d spoken to all of Natica. He’d suggested it was time to stop depending solely on old machines. It was time to build new ones.
Impressed, he knelt next to the contraption. It consisted of large sheets of metal, molded and shaped into a dish. All sorts of complicated-looking equipment had been bolted to it. “So, what is it?” he asked.
“It’s a dish, Sir.” Quella Yolanda, another fifteen-year old, cleared her throat. “A satellite dish.”
“What’s that?” Sanza asked.
“The ancients sent machines—satellites—into space.” Gurdon Botch, a tall, gangly boy pushing fourteen years, sat up straight. “We’re hoping this dish can connect to one of them.”
Titus glanced at Sanza. “What’s he talking about?”
“I don’t know.” She studied him for a moment. “I’ve never heard of satellites before. What do they do?”
The other kids averted their gazes.
“They allow for long-distance communication,” he replied. “A dish acts as a transmitter, sending a message to the satellite. The satellite receives it, then beams it down to a second dish, known as a receiver.”
Titus gave him a piercing gaze. “Who told you that?”
“Oh, it was—”
Towdy Teller, a fourteen-year-old with temper issues, coughed. It was an abrupt act, one that Titus took to mean, ‘Shut up, you fool.’ And indeed, young Gurdon fell silent.
Sanza, however, was having none of that. “Where did you learn about satellites?” she asked, her eyes boring holes into Gurdon’s skull.
The boy started to sweat. His gaze swiveled to Towdy, then back to Sanza.
Sorney tossed her hair over her shoulder. “From Virdo.”
Titus frowned. “Who’s Virdo?”
“Virdo Diamond, Sir.” She gave him an expectant look. “You know, from Luminosity.”
“Wait.” His eyes widened. “You’ve been talking to the Luminites?”
She nodded.
Sanza shook her head. “Start from the beginning.”
“There’s not much to it, really. A month or two ago, I was on duty here. It was a quiet night for once. Then, all of a sudden, I got a video call on my laptop.”
“Go on,” Titus said.
“I didn’t recognize the handle, but I accepted the call anyway. This guy appeared, one I’d never seen before. He said his name was Virdo and that he was a Luminite.”
Titus frowned. He didn’t know Virdo. But the fact that the man was secretly speaking to his people made him distinctly uneasy.
“We talked on and off for the rest of my shift,” she continued. “Honestly, it was fun. He’s an amazing man.”
“How often do you talk to him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot.”
“How come this is the first I’m hearing about it?” Sanza asked.
Sorney hesitated. In the brief silence, Gurdon jumped in. “He told us to keep it quiet. Specifically, from you, Sir.”
Titus cocked his head. “Me?”
“It’s because Kayden’s a control freak.” Sorney’s lip curled in anger. “She won’t let anyone else talk to us.”
“He was afraid you’d tell her if you found out,” Quella added.
Titus frowned.
“I see.” Sanza nodded slowly. “And Virdo told you about satellites?”
“Just me,” Sorney replied. “At least, in the beginning. He asked me to build a dish for him. You know, because he can’t build it himself. Well, I couldn’t do it alone.”
“So, you invited some friends to join you?” Titus asked.
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Sanza walked to the laptop. Kneeling down, she studied the device. A complicated diagram, depicting the satellite dish, covered the screen. She clicked around on the keyboard, causing various boxes to open. Finally, she stood up again.
“Can’t say I understand much of it,” she said. “How’d Virdo figure it out?”
Titus rubbed his jaw. He’d been wondering the same thing. The Luminites still recalled facts and how to tie their shoes. But their lived experiences? Those were lost forever. As such, they’d had trouble doing much of anything.
“He didn’t. At least not by himself.” Towdy shrugged. “But he’s in charge of the Applied Sciences sector.”
“They wanted to make something,” Bronf added. “You know, get their feet wet on a project. So, they started batting around ideas.”
“And they settled on a satellite,” Sorney finished.
Sanza had listened to all of this with rapt attention. “That still doesn’t explain how they figured out the design.”
“Virdo said they had a brainstorming session,” she replied. “They sat around a big table, recalling every fact they ever knew about satellites. When they were finished, they had enough information to start designing one.”
“He must be smart,” Titus said.
“Oh, he is, Sir. He’s brilliant.”
“I don’t understand.” Sanza glanced at Titus. “Didn’t Kayden tell you the Luminites were having trouble organizing their thoughts?”
He nodded. “She blamed it on a lack of structure. They’ve got plenty of facts. But without the context of personal memories, they’re all just a jumbled mess. In any given situation, they don’t know which facts matter and which ones don’t. It sounded challenging.”
“Maybe for her.” Sorney adopted a flippant air. “For Virdo, it’s probably a cinch.”
He gave her a pointed look.
“Sorry, Sir.” A light blush arose on her cheeks. “But, well, it’s true.”
“Excuse us for a moment.” Sanza pulled him back into the hallway. When they were out of earshot, she furrowed her brow. “This is crazy.”
“Tell me about it.” He glanced into the room. The kids had moved to the other side of the dish contraption. Soft whispers rang out as they studied the laptop. “I don’t get it. Why would Virdo need a satellite dish?”
“Maybe he wants to see if satellites are still working.”
“What’s the point? There’s no one else out there.”
She shrugged. “So, maybe it isn’t meant to be used. Maybe it’s just a chance to design something, to get used to working with us.”
It wasn’t a bad theory. Still, the secrecy worried him. Why would Virdo go behind Kayden’s back? Was she really a control freak? Or did he have another motive?
“I guess there’s only one way to know for sure.” He glanced into the room again. His eyes went to the laptop. “Let’s ask him.”
He hiked back into the room. “How do I speak to Virdo?”
The kids looked at Sorney. In turn, she hit some keys. A new window opened up. She hit a little blue box and a series of faint buzzes rang out.
“He might not be there,” she said, her eyes glued to the device. “Sometimes, he’s—”
The buzzing ended. The window expanded, filling much of the screen. At the same time, a second window, much smaller than the first one, appeared beneath it.
Glancing at the primary window, Titus saw a silver-haired man with a firm jaw and sparkling eyes. His own image, meanwhile, filled the lower window.
“Hi, Virdo.” Sorney gave Titus a nervous look. “This is Titus Foster. He’s, uh, well, you know who he is.” A bit of guilt entered her tone. “Sorry.”
At first, Virdo seemed taken aback by Titus’ presence. But he recovered quickly. “Don’t fret. This is just fine.” His eyes met those of Titus and he adopted a serious expression. “Greetings, Sir. My name is Virdo Diamond. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
“Funny,” Titus replied. “Because I’ve never heard a thing about you.”
Sorney’s eyes peeled wide open. With an apologetic look at Virdo, she slid away from the laptop.
“I’m sure
you have lots of questions,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have a Steering Committee meeting in a few minutes so I can’t stay long.”
Titus allowed his eyes to stray across the screen, taking in the details. Virdo sat in a wide-open room. Enormous pictures of opulent beauty covered the back wall. They were beautiful, even though he had no idea what they were.
“Steering Committee?” he asked, swiveling his gaze to Virdo. “With Kayden?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Isn’t that where you report what you’ve been doing all week? Where you share updates and news?”
He nodded.
“Does the Steering Committee know about your satellite dish?”
“No, Sir.”
“Why not?”
Virdo exhaled, then tipped his chin toward the ceiling. “How well do you know her? Kay, I mean.”
Titus sighed. “What are you getting at?”
“Just this.” His chin dipped down to a normal level. With soft eyes, he peered at Titus. “She caused the Broken.”
Titus recoiled in surprise. “That’s impossible.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t, Sir.”
“Kay told me all of you lost your memories. So, how do you remember the Broken?”
“It’s not my memory we’re talking about here. It’s hers.” He paused. “Did she tell you about the old memory she experienced six months ago?”
While trying to shut down Protocol Forty-Eight, Kayden had been forced to live out an ancient memory. A memory of a war that pitted Emma Andale against the armies of the world.
“Yes,” he replied. “She said Cormella Dodge released the HXO weapon. It sucked the moisture out of everything for miles around.”
“That’s true. But it’s only part of the story.”
He felt his heartrate begin to climb.
“During the course of the memory, she overheard a conversation between Emma and a man named Devin Foster. Your relative, I presume. According to them, Kayden invented HXO.”
Titus studied the man’s facial features. They didn’t twitch or shift about or do anything else suspicious. “How do you know about this?” he asked.
“Let’s just say I’ve got an inside source.”
“Even if you’re right, that happened a long time ago.”
“Indeed.” He shrugged. “Still, I find it hard to trust someone who broke the world. And a small part of me can’t help but wonder if she wants it to stay broken.”
“So, what’s your plan? Build stuff behind her back?”
He nodded. “For now.”
Titus didn’t know what to think about the man’s suspicions. So, he decided to move on. “What’s the dish for, anyway?”
“It’s a long-shot, but we’re hoping it’ll connect to a satellite or maybe some kind of receiver here on Earth.
Titus glanced at Sanza, curious for her reaction. She stood out of camera view, gawking at the screen. He understood how she felt. He liked Kayden. The idea that she’d brought about the Broken was difficult to swallow.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. It was nice to meet you, Sir.” Virdo stood up, smoothed out his shirt. “Do me a favor and keep this under your hat, okay?”
Titus frowned. “Under my hat?”
“In other words, please don’t tell anyone about this conversation. I don’t want Kay knowing about the dish, at least not until it’s finished.” He reached for his keyboard.
His image vanished and the call came to an end.
“Wow.” Sanza shook her head. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Neither do I,” Titus replied. “Neither do I.”
Chapter 6
“He’s late.” Kayden Kell scowled under her breath. Stepping lightly, she paced back and forth through the Skyscraper’s circular colonnade of ornate columns.
She possessed an angular face with eyes the color of a sandy desert. Her hair, long and black, was tied into a ponytail. She wore a navy-blue hoodie with long sleeves. A pair of light green shorts and running sneakers completed the ensemble. The outfit, indeed her entire appearance, was sort of a cross between athletic and leisure. Or at least, that was how her avatar appeared in this digital landscape.
But was this how she’d looked back in the day? As an actual person? Before her conscious had been uploaded into Luminosity? She couldn’t be certain. Not without memories of her life. And unfortunately, those were gone for good.
“Relax.” Pam Puck, an expert in psychology, sat down. Lacing her long fingers behind her head, she leaned against a column. “It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”
“Besides, he can’t help it.” Tabitha Bool, an actress with excellent poise, folded her legs underneath her as she slipped to the ground. “Virdo’s just got a little free spirit in him.”
Danny Chung, a physics whiz, nodded. “They’re right, Kay. Give the guy a break.”
Kayden frowned. She’d ended Protocol Forty-Eight. In one fell swoop, she’d brought down Cormella’s reign while freeing the Luminites from centuries of daily resets. As such, a little gratitude from her fellow citizens would’ve been nice. Instead, they treated her with almost open hostility. Even people like Casper Kordell, Lanika Ward, and Rupert Hortman, who’d fought Cormella for years, had distanced themselves from her.
She understood it, even if she didn’t like it. Six months ago, the Luminites had gone through yet another daily reset. Awaking with no memories, they’d stumbled outside. Cormella, backed by an army of peacekeepers, had appeared. She’d showed them pictures of supposed terrorists, blaming them for everyone’s lost memories. She’d asked for their help in tracking down the individuals.
After Kayden ended the protocol, the resets had ended and Cormella had disappeared. Calling a city-wide meeting, she’d attempted to explain things to her fellow citizens. She’d told them they were digital entities and that Cormella was the cause of their problems. The supposed terrorists, meanwhile, were actually heroes, fighting to fix things.
The people had listened quietly, but she could sense their unease. Really, they didn’t know who to trust. All they knew was that Cormella and the peacekeepers were gone, replaced by Kayden and the supposed terrorists.
Leaving the colonnade, Kayden walked to the edge of the circling marble staircase. With the Skyscraper at her back, she stared across the park. She saw the usual cobblestone streets and picturesque buildings, illuminated by decorative gas lamps. A few people were out for a stroll. A sheer black dome overhung everything, marking the boundaries of Luminosity’s programming.
She averted her gaze. She didn’t like looking at the dome. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because it gave off the appearance off infinity, while actually being the complete opposite.
“Don’t worry,” Tabitha called to her. “I’m sure Virdo will be here soon.”
“I know,” she replied.
Still, she remained antsy. For a confrontation was in the wind. She possessed information about Virdo. Information that suggested he’d been talking to Natica behind their backs. And one way or another, she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
After ending Protocol Forty-Eight, she’d offered to take on the temporary mantle of leadership. But the citizenry, highly suspicious of her, had demanded a distribution of power. And so, they’d formed the Steering Committee. The four of them—five, including Virdo—constituted it.
Each member came from a different sector, which in turn, were composed of multiple departments. Pam represented Social Sciences while Tabitha acted on behalf of Humanities. Danny headed up Natural Sciences while Virdo ran Applied Sciences. As for herself, she was in charge of Formal Sciences.
The Steering Committee met on a weekly basis within the Skyscraper’s colonnade. The purpose was to share discoveries and ideas, primarily aimed at ending the Broken. It sounded good in theory. But in practice, the meetings tended to be long and boring, full of blowhard speeches and endless status reports.
Truly, a waste of time. Especially for her. Deep dow
n, Kayden wanted to be in front of her laptop. For the last six months, she’d spent nearly every waking moment on the device, studying the strange phenomena known as the Broken. She’d worked long hours, often late into the night. And with good reason. For she knew something that nobody else knew.
Namely, that the Broken was her fault.
It had resulted from a weapon known as HXO. And HXO, horrifyingly enough, was her invention. She hadn’t been the one to unleash it upon the world. That blame lay squarely on the shoulders of Cormella Dodge. But still, she’d invented it.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t change the past. The best she could do was fix her mistake. And really, she was making terrific headway in that department. She’d found a treasure trove of research on her laptop, stuff that had survived centuries of resets. Months of close study had helped her to understand the nature of the Broken. Now, she was building programs that would combat it.
Virdo Diamond appeared. A bag banged against his back as he walked quickly across the park and bounded up the steps. “Hey.” He offered them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I was just—”
“Let me guess.” Pam tilted her head upward, pretending to be deep in thought. “You overslept, right?”
Danny chuckled. “No, I bet there was another Cormella spotting and he went to check it out.”
Kayden’s ear’s perked. She hadn’t seen Cormella since ending the protocol. But the woman’s face still fueled her nightmares.
“They’re just kidding.” Tabitha offered Virdo a warm smile. “Sit down.”
Kayden detected a hint of interest in the woman’s tone. She wasn’t surprised. Virdo was good-looking, a real silver fox. He was tall and sported powerful shoulders. Thick, locks of wavy hair curled just so across the edges of his face. His strong jaw looked like it could endure the worst life had to offer. And yet, his blue eyes sparkled with an innocent, vibrant energy.
Cool and calm, he strode into the colonnade and sat down with his back to the Skyscraper’s opaque glass door. That door led into the building’s ultra-strange interior, full of curving hallways and randomly-placed stairs. Kayden’s friend, Jarven Quint, believed the Skyscraper mimicked the structure of Emma’s brain. And since Emma had pretty much designed Luminosity, Kayden thought that made a good deal of sense.
