by David Meyer
She brought it up to her chest, saw marks from his fingers. Gently, she massaged the sore limb.
Sticking close to the column, she edged out just a bit. Her gaze went to the intersection.
Their pursuers were gone.
“Nice work,” BeBo whispered. Stepping out from behind the column, he started toward the street.
Kayden stood still for a split-second, looking around at the contracting dome. A terrible realization occurred to her. And with that, an idea popped into her head.
No, she thought, ultimately dismissing it. There’s got to be another way.
She grabbed his shoulder, pulled him back.
He frowned. “Aren’t we going to the Skyscraper?”
“Yes. But not yet.” She glided to the door, pulled it open and disappeared inside.
A large, open space, bookended by staircases, awaited her. The floor was made of rusticated stone, which made very little sound. The walls, meanwhile, held several massive landscapes, painted with a surprisingly large palette of muted colors. The furniture had a serpentine feel to it along with a treasure trove of rich detailing.
She paused. Even now, after six months of visits, the place still managed to make her feel tiny. To fill her with awe.
Turning on her toes, she studied the first floor. Over the last six months, it had gradually turned into a tech-free environment. A place for people to get away from screens, if only for a few minutes.
She darted to a table and pulled out a chair. Plopping into it, she pressed the power button on her laptop. The screen lit up and a message appeared.
Welcome, Kayden Kell, it read. Please input your password now.
Passwords had initially proven to be a problem for Kayden and her fellow Luminites. Fortunately, Jarven had figured out how to access Luminosity’s network via fake accounts. It took a few days of experimentation but eventually, Kayden was able to use one of those accounts to reset all of the passwords.
She quickly input her password. The laptop came to life and she gave her folders and applications a swift glance. She tried to will her fingers forward, to bring them to the keyboard. But she just sat there instead, staring at the screen.
BeBo frowned. “Kay …?”
His voice brought her back to reality. Squaring her shoulders, she began to type, first accessing the network, then navigating her way to the Protocols folder. Scrolling through the many listings, she noticed only one that was currently in operation.
“Protocol Four-Thousand, Three-Hundred, and Sixty-two.” She leaned close to the screen. “There’s not much information here. But it’s definitely anti-viral in nature.”
“Can we access it inside of the Skyscraper?” he asked. “Like how you accessed Protocol Forty-Eight.”
“Yes,” she said. “But there’s no point. Protocol Forty-Eight enslaved us so we had to shut it down. This new one’s trying to help us, so we’ll leave it alone.”
“But it’s not doing enough,” he argued. “Maybe we can strengthen it somehow.”
“Maybe. Let me see.” She studied the folder’s contents for a few minutes. Then she set about exploring the network, learning everything she could about the protocol.
Protocol Four-Thousand, Three-Hundred, and Sixty-two, she discovered, had been dubbed, ‘Last Resort.’ And for good reason. Its sole purpose was to slow any systemwide attacks not already covered by the thousands of other protocols. The reason for this, ostensibly, was to buy time. Time for an army of experts to manually quarantine the virus.
“The protocol is pulling out all of the stops,” she said at last. “I can’t help it.”
“What about the virus then? Can you stop it?”
“I don’t know.”
She decided to give herself five minutes to destroy the virus. Blocking everything out, she started up her programs. Then she sent them into the ether, attempting to track down the virus. It didn’t take them long. To her consternation, she saw it had already wiped out a good deal of the network.
First, she tried to delete its code. When that failed, she tried to confuse it, to manipulate it. And when that failed, she tried a few other things. Working fast, she pulled out every trick she knew.
But nothing worked.
As her deadline expired, a soft breath passed through her lips. “No good.”
He looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t stop the virus. I’d need a thousand people like me just to quarantine it.”
He frowned. “So, that’s it?”
For a brief moment, she recalled her thought process outside the building. The idea that had popped into her head. “Maybe not.” Shutting down her programs, she returned to the keyboard.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m accessing schematics. For Miot.”
“Miot? As in, the machine? Our machine?”
“That’s the one.” She worked her way through a series of folders before locating a vast storehouse of blueprints.
“But why?”
She copied the blueprints to the desktop. Then she parsed through them. “I’ve got an idea. A backup plan, really.”
Looking around, she spotted a leather messenger bag hanging from the back of another chair. She hiked over and grabbed it up. She dumped out the contents, then replaced them with her laptop.
As she shouldered the bag, another crunch afflicted her ears. She looked at BeBo. “That sounded close.”
A significant tremor accosted the stone floor. “It felt even closer,” he replied tightly.
They took off, scrambling for the door. BeBo got there first. Throwing it open, he stepped aside. Kayden ran past him, then reeled to a halt.
Jaw agape, she stared ahead. Not at the dome. At the small mob milling near the intersection.
“So, that’s where you’ve been hiding.” Mike grinned at her. “When you disappeared like that, so suddenly, we figured you’d ducked into one of these buildings.”
Tabitha smiled. “And that it was just a matter of time before you came out again.”
Chapter 51
Kayden met Tabitha’s gaze. She kept her face still, her body language silent. But inside, she issued a frustrated, angry scream.
She should’ve seen this coming. After all, these people weren’t idiots. Each and every one of them was a certified genius.
Why couldn’t Emma have added some dolts to the mix? A few people we could fool? She frowned. Thoughts began to spark inside of her brain. Yes, they’re geniuses. But that doesn’t make them infallible.
Over the last six months, she’d spent the vast majority of her time with Luminosity’s geniuses. But she’d also spoken a lot to Titus. He definitely wasn’t a genius. Not by conventional standards, anyway. The Luminites, even without their memories, could run intellectual circles around him. And yet, they lacked his common sense.
BeBo glared at Mike, at the man’s allies. “What are you? A coward? Fight me man-to-man.”
Mike punched his fist into his palm. “I shouldn’t have left you conscious. That was a mistake, one I don’t intend to repeat.”
Take the-virus-drove-us-crazy trick she and her friends had pulled hours ago. The Luminites, scared and uncertain, fell for that in an instant. But Titus? He would’ve seen right through it. He possessed a kind of intelligence that didn’t exist in Luminosity. A sort of earthy understanding of people and their thoughts.
She slipped behind BeBo. “Keep them busy,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
“How am I supposed to do that?” he whispered back.
“I don’t care. Just keep their eyes off of me.”
“Got it.” BeBo adopted a regal pose. “Hey, Mike. The only mistake was Emma’s. After all, she’s the one that let a blockhead like you in here.”
“I’m smarter than you,” the man replied.
As they jawed at each other, Kayden pulled her laptop out of the messenger bag. Sliding behind BeBo, she whipped it open. Quickly, she accessed the network.
A thundering crunch rang out. Kayden kept her eyes glued to her screen. But it sounded like the dome had just ripped away a good chunk of the Computer Science Department.
Tabitha’s gaze went upward and she bit her cheeks. “Enough.” She glanced at Mike, at the mob. “Finish this.”
With eyes like slits, he started forward.
Kayden fiddled with one last thing. Lowering the laptop to her side, she stepped in front of BeBo.
“Stay back,” she said, making her eyes as wild as possible. “Or I’ll end you right now.”
He paused, shot Tabitha an uncertain look.
“Don’t listen to her,” Tabitha said. “She’s infected.”
“Indeed, I am.” Her smile twinkled at the edges. In her head, she counted down with the timer she’d programmed on her computer.
Six. Five. Four …
BeBo didn’t move a muscle. Mike looked a little scared. Tabitha, meanwhile, opened her mouth to reply.
Three. Two. One …
Kayden closed her eyes, lifted her chin upward. “Die, lights, die,” she screamed.
Simultaneously, every light in Luminosity went dark. The gas lamps on the streets. The ceiling fixtures in the apartments. All of them. Utter blackness fell over the city.
The mob erupted into screams. Scuffling noises rang out as Tabitha, Mike, and the others panicked.
A few seconds later, another scuffling sound filled the air, followed by a soft, wheezing gasp.
“Die, Mike, die,” BeBo screamed, mimicking Kayden’s tone.
“Mike?” someone called out, his voice on the edge of lunacy. “You okay?”
There was no response.
“They got him,” a woman shouted.
“Run for it,” a third person shouted.
“Wait,” Tabitha said. “They’re just—” Someone slammed into her, knocking her off-balance.
Shoes slapped against cobblestones. Bodies collided with each other. Some slammed to the ground. Clattering noises erupted as others crashed into staircases, large potted plants, and the now-dark gas lamps.
“BeBo?” Kayden whispered.
“Right here.”
“What’d you do to Mike?”
“Strangled him. Until he passed out.”
“That works.” She grabbed his hand. Working from memory, she guided him into the intersection.
They moved slowly. Even so, it didn’t take long before his feet got tangled up in something. Arms flailing, he dropped like a rock. “This won’t work,” he whispered in a pained tone. “We need lights.”
To the left, footsteps limped past them. To the right, Kayden heard quiet voices. Apparently, Tabitha’s mob was still in the vicinity.
“We can’t risk it,” she said softly, helping him up. “Not yet.”
A crunch filled her ears. The ground trembled lightly and a soft wind pushed against her.
She snuck a peek backward. Although Luminosity was now completely dark, the peacekeepers were still at work. So, she saw a steady flow of sparks soar upward, assailing the curved edge of the dome.
She frowned. As best as she could tell, the dome was now situated roughly halfway through the Computer Science Department. Which meant just one thing.
The virus was gaining speed.
Her brow formed a hard ridge. Wait, that’s not right, she thought. It isn’t gaining speed. It doesn’t have to.
The virus was attacking Luminosity from the outside. With each deletion, it reduced the city’s circumference. That allowed it to bite off increasingly wider chunks of what was left.
Another crunch, the most ominous one yet, rang out. A quake roared underfoot. Meanwhile, a gale of wind sailed forth.
Glancing back, Kayden watched the sparks, watched them move to a new position. She estimated the virus had just taken another ten feet off of the Computer Science Department.
“Come on,” she said, directing him forward. “We have to hurry.”
Chapter 52
A terrible shriek roared across the hinterlands. The ground rumbled. Then another mighty wall of sand careened into the gate. Half of it piled up outside, half of it flooded through the bars. By the time things quieted down again, auburn grains covered approximately sixty feet of gate. From there, it flowed downward in either direction, forming ramps on both sides.
Suitably awed, Titus backed away. Glancing to his right, he saw a winding, drifting pile of sand, four or five feet high, standing against the wall’s interior. Evidently, part of Cormella’s sand ramp had crested over the top of the massive structure, causing excess grains to fall into the fort.
He took a deep breath and raced up the ramp abutting the gate. Partway up, he started to sink and soon, it became a difficult slog. That was a relief, albeit a minor one. If this side wasn’t completely solid, it stood to reason the other side wasn’t well-packed either. Dargon and the Banished would have a difficult time traversing it.
He shifted his gaze to the top of the wall. If Dargon went that way, he’d have a heck of a time trying to get down. Jumping from a height of one hundred-feet, even into a five-foot deep pile of sand, would surely maim him.
Then again, maybe he wasn’t planning on jumping.
“Private Stanner?” Titus called out.
Stanner emerged from the sentinel post. “Sir?”
“The Banished might try to come in over the wall,” he said. “If they do, there’s only one place where they’ll be able to make a safe descent.”
“Do you mean the platform, Sir? Next to the former breach?”
He nodded. “Take a few privates with you and disable the ladder.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Disable it?” A hint of a grin danced across Sanza’s lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Titus arched a questioning eyebrow at her.
“We should boobytrap it. Cut a bunch of rungs so they’ll break under pressure. Maybe we’ll get a few people to fall.” She shrugged. “Every little bit helps.”
Stanner stroked his jaw, looking thoughtful. “That could work.”
Titus nodded. “Cut the rungs, Private. But don’t leave anything to chance. Stick around, hide in the shadows. As soon as the Banished figure out something’s wrong, take down the ladder. Don’t give them a chance to fix it.”
“Yes, Sir.” Stanner grabbed three soldiers, then set off to fulfill the order.
Meanwhile, Titus turned back to the gate. He could no longer see anything, a fact that disturbed him. So, he perked his ears. Instead of whirling sand, he heard the light crunching of footsteps. Apparently, the Banished were testing out the ramp.
He glanced at the towering gate, at the sixty-foot-tall ramp. Dargon wasn’t getting in this way anytime soon. But the former breach? That was the real threat.
He scouted around, saw Private Apion looking nervous, chewing her nails. “Keep an eye on things, Private. I’ll be back soon.”
She tore her hand out of her mouth, then glanced at a nearby shed. Stubbels stood there, his arms crossed, his gaze directed at some distant star. “Wouldn’t Stubbels make for a better choice, Sir?”
His eyes burned like fire. “Are you disobeying an order, Private?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. I’ll be at the platform if you need me.” As he took his leave, he gave Stubbels one last glance.
But the man was gone.
He began hiking toward the platform, threading a pathway between the winding pile of sand and Natica’s buildings. Sanza hurried to catch up to him.
Stress knotted his chest. He tried to loosen his body with a few deep breaths, but it didn’t work. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the kind of stress one could inhale and exhale into oblivion. This was a much more serious type of stress. It was life-or-death stress.
For he had enemies on the inside.
Enemies on the outside.
Enemies everywhere.
Chapter 53
Titus hunched next to a supply shed, hidden within the folds of its dark
shadow. For a few minutes, he studied the ladder from afar. It looked perfectly fine at first glance. But upon closer inspection, he could see that some of its middle rungs were slightly bent.
His gaze shot to the wall, tracing over the Sanza-concrete, before settling on the very top. A half-moon shone brightly in the sky, casting plenty of light on the structure.
The gentle crunch of sand reached Titus’ ears. Not long after, a shadowy head popped into view, about forty feet north of the platform. It stayed there for a while, twisting from side to side, observing everything.
The head vanished from view. Titus tightened his gaze. With his head on a swivel, he kept an eye on the enormous barrier.
Four minutes later, Sanza tugged his cloak. Following her pointing finger, he saw the head once again. It poked above the wall, some forty feet south of the platform.
Again, the head twisted from side to side. Again, it disappeared.
It reappeared a few minutes later, right next to the platform. This time it rose up a bit higher, bringing the rest of its body with it. Carefully, quietly, a lanky man lay down on top of the wall.
Titus squinted, recognizing him as Harlop Troggin, a former reservoir worker. The ranks of the Banished included many unfortunate souls, people pushed into crime in order to help fulfill the needs of loved ones.
Harlop wasn’t one of those people.
An angry man with a terrible temper, he’d terrorized people for years. Eventually, Baylee Long had stood up to him, telling him off in front of a crowd. The next morning, she was found in her apartment, beaten to death.
Harlop didn’t deny responsibility for the murder. Indeed, the man had quickly fessed up to it, taking a kind of perverse pleasure in her death. Acting quickly, Jayter had banished him.
Now, he was back.
Titus held his breath as Harlop crawled onto the platform. The man remained still for a few minutes, keeping low, biding his time.
Three other people came into view. One by one, they climbed onto the wall and crawled across it. Then they slid onto the platform, joining Harlop.
Titus felt his muscles tense up. This was it. Ideally, the foursome would fall to their deaths. But if just one of them reached the ground, he or she could disable a signal-blocker. Then Cormella would rush in and desiccate them all.
