“Out of VR? You mean training?”
He shook his head. “No, Tris. Detention is virtual reality. So is University.”
That’s why my cell had… Her mind leapt back to the feeling of lying paralyzed on a gurney while that creep stripped her. A momentary caress of his hand switched to plunging into cold slime. She shuddered. “No toilet…”
“I was able to reestablish connection while you were placed in the training sim. I adjusted the surgical protocols to add the combat augmentations used by the military, including an upgraded nanite unit, but the low-bandwidth connection did not permit me to join you in the simulated reality.”
She squinted at him. “Is that why I still look like I’m eighteen? Am I going to go backward like Amaranth?”
“No, Tris. She is not going backward, but she is a special case. I do not know exactly what happened there, but my calculations estimate that a software error occurred after she suffered a normally fatal wound. The nanites managed to resuscitate her and likely became stuck in a mode where they think she is injured even when she is not. That girl got extremely lucky. She should have died, so I do not recommend you shooting yourself in the heart to freeze your aging process.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, but you didn’t have to. Wasn’t even a thought on my mind.”
“You technically are eighteen as your time in stasis forestalled your aging. The Nanites do have an inhibiting effect against aging, but you won’t get younger. They slow the aging process to about a tenth of normal.”
She blinked. “So I could live to be hundreds of years old?”
“Yes. The same is true for all Enclave citizens.” He smiled. “Provided no one shoots you first. A heart injury like that poor Yaro girl suffered is not typical to recover from.”
“They tricked me…” Tris looked down. “Before they put me into Detention, they said they had to do a standard medical check for prisoner intake. That’s when they put me under VR, isn’t it? You set me up with Dovarin… what else did you do?”
“Well, aside from the cybernetics, I stepped up the combat training and survival sims beyond what Nathan had requested. He gave you only enough for a modest chance of surviving to find the resistance in Harrisburg. I wanted to protect you.”
She folded her arms and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for leaving that bomb inside me.”
He reached over and patted her leg. “I apologize for not being able to stop that detonator from being implanted… The surgery for that happened in a separate batch. Delaying the explosion was the best I could do.”
“Sorry.” She leaned forward and grasped the desk on either side of her legs. “I… guess I wouldn’t have made it without your help.”
He leaned back and tapped his chin for a few seconds. “Do you think the Enclave is evil?”
She balanced Nathan on half of her brain and Aura on the other. “They sure act like it. But it’s only the ones making the decisions.”
Her father let out a heavy sigh while looking at a wristwatch. “What I’m about to tell you may come as a shock.” He wagged his arm. “Quaint little device these. Don’t see them much anymore.”
Tris stared at him expectantly.
“If you would prefer to have me change your avatar once more to that of a child, please just ask.” Dad winked.
“After everything else I’ve learned? How bad can it be?” She sat on the desk and scooted back so her shoes didn’t touch the floor.
Her virtual father laughed. “Good attitude. Tris… The Enclave you think you know is only about eight percent of the total population.”
“Yeah…” She scoffed. “All the assholes.”
He laughed. “Not entirely, but close enough to make debating the point arguably semantic. The vast majority of the citizens are in stasis. At any one time, only eight to nine percent of them are living in the real world.”
Tris gasped. “People not in Detention?”
“I’m afraid so. ‘Going to University’ is the soft term used by those who know the truth. Only the upper echelons of the administration as well as workers responsible for maintaining the systems are aware of it.”
Tris’ mouth gaped in shock. “Why don’t they tell anyone? Do they threaten them?”
“Not all the time. Most believe it when they are told that it is for the good of mankind. Though advanced, because they refuse to enter the outside world, the Enclave does not have the resources nor the space to accommodate a population of its size all awake and functioning at the same time. What you know as the Core City is false. It’s an illusion in virtual reality. Did you ever wonder why the tram connecting to it only carries four people at a time?”
She nodded. “Yeah. That does seem weird.”
“It goes to the underground cryogenics facility. People are put through―”
“Decontamination,” said Tris in a daze, staring into nowhere.
“Again, you are correct. They finish the tram ride in VR and believe there is an enormous city underground. In reality, their bodies are floating in stasis pods. They don’t put anyone in storage until they turn eighteen. People who have been chosen for a pairing are kept in the Quar. There are real-world facades of University called ‘special advanced placement.’ Also, parents are left outside VR until their child turns eighteen and is put into storage. Soon after, the parents are brought in for a ‘routine checkup’ and transferred to VR unaware that they are no longer awake in the real world. They are told they have been reassigned to new housing.”
Tris put a hand on her gut, feeling queasy. “They don’t put kids into storage until eighteen? What about me? I was nine.”
“You represented a special security situation. They did not put you in a simulation, so the nine years it took for your surrogate family to ‘raise’ you passed in an instant to you. They are now back in the sim, unaware of the nature of their environment.”
“How has no one noticed they haven’t been getting older?”
“Everyone knows the nanites slow the process. I imagine the Council expects to retake the world before they have to explain why no one is aging at all. Come. We should do what we have come here to do.”
“You’re not going to overload the reactor and blow everyone up are you?” She slid off the desk to stand. “I’m not going to help you if that’s the case.”
“No, Tris. I wish to stop the virus and reveal the truth to everyone. We are trying to save people, not set off another atomic blast.”
She bowed her head and rubbed her face. “And you need me to open the gate.”
“Succinctly put.” Dad stood, took her hand, and walked to the door.
Tris followed him without protest out into an immaculate hallway. The sounds of people moving about came from both directions, conversations, footsteps, the squeak of a pushcart wheel, but they appeared to be alone. A whiff of coffee that didn’t exist slid past on air that didn’t exist. If not for the lack of seeing anyone, the place sounded as though the university still functioned circa 2019.
Dad led her to another door, two classrooms down, and opened it without knocking.
She stepped through into her old bedroom, which had most certainly not been in the university, and stared at herself. A child version of her, perhaps eight years old, sat cross-legged in bed clutching a ragdoll to her chest. Tris cringed at first, but when she realized the girl didn’t move―that she’d walked into a three-dimensional still image―she whirled on her father.
“This is cruel. Why do you keep tormenting me with my childhood? I know I can’t go home again… it’s a hollow echo of a life they stole from me when they killed the man who wrote you.”
The AI smiled; deepening wrinkles made him look more like her grandfather than her father. “I prefer to think of it as a fond memory. At least, to me, it is. The war would have taken this life away from you with or without the Enclave. They did not exist until after. Please… go to her.”
She let a lingering glare seethe for a few seconds before approachin
g the bed. The child-Tris didn’t move so much as a single eyelash. Something about the scene made her want to recoil, to run off screaming at the impossibly eerie false child.
“Do you remember what you named that doll?” asked Dad, behind her.
Tris’ heart raced at instant recognition. All the times she’d heard that word recently, not once had she remembered this doll. Her lungs seemed to implode, releasing a wheeze of a voice, “Persephone.”
The ragdoll twisted its head around and looked up at her. “Hi Tris! You have been gone a long time.”
She glanced at her father, trying to force herself not to cry. “It was only a ragdoll. It never used to talk back to me.”
“A child’s imagination,” whispered Dad. “Say hello to it.”
Tris raised a hand in a limp version of a wave. “Hello, Persephone.”
Black button eyes shimmered to points of white light, fading to ancient television snow a second later. “Is it time to activate the Eden Protocol?”
‘Yes’ formed in her brain, rode down a nerve to the muscles that would eject the air from her lungs necessary to speak it, and halted halfway up her throat. “Umm. Define Eden Protocol.”
The doll nodded once. “Eden Protocol consists of multiple subroutines. Module One initiates a modification to the simulated reality module CoreCity.exe, which allows Module Two to run. Module Two plays audiovisual data media kit. Module Three begins complete stasis system shutdown and pod thaw. Module Four and Module Five run concurrently with Module One. Module Four searches for and erases all technical documentation related to the Agent-X program. Module Five contains updated program code for Symbiote Agent-94 extension/control units. Module Six completes shutdown of cryogenic stasis units and overrides local control systems to open all active pods. Module seven triggers an overload in the production machinery associated with the Agent-X program, which will render them inoperable.”
Tris exhaled with relief. Nothing about boom. “What’s in the media kit?”
White dots turned black for an instant, suggesting an eye blink. The doll extended a fabric arm, above which appeared a tiny playback window of Dad speaking.
“The truth,” said Dad. “The truth for the people of the Enclave. That they have been paired and bred like farm animals, then put in the freezer for later use.”
“Later use?” She shivered. “That sounds ominous.”
“I mean repopulating the Earth once they’ve wiped everyone else out.”
Tris looked back at the fake child. “Persephone?”
“Yes?” asked the ragdoll.
“Initiate Eden Protocol.”
A jolt of pain shot into her skull from the left side. Her knees weakened, but didn’t dump her to the floor. In VR, Tris grabbed her head where the plug would’ve been.
“What the hell was that?” She stared at Dad.
“The program used your implant to analyze a minute amount of blood to confirm your genetic password. Nothing to worry about.” He smiled. “The first part of the password was your voice speaking the doll’s name.”
Tris stared down, chuckling. “You named your dolls after my doll.”
Her father’s apparition laughed, a sound tinged with a hint of digitization. His face pixilated a touch. “I suppose he did.”
“Genetic match confirmed. Access granted.” The doll bowed. “Confirm authorization?”
Tris clenched her hands into fists. Please be right. “Yes. Do it.”
27
Lying in Wait
After the story of how Tris went off on Neon and they wound up helping six women escape slavery (Kevin omitted that two were teenaged, and that all had been forced into prostitution), Aura seemed ever so slightly more relaxed. She still sat rigid, hands clasped atop her knees, looking like the smallest aggressive motion from him would set her off screaming.
Kevin glanced at Tris’ body, slumped back in the chair by the desk. The monitor showed three boxy windows, two small ones over a wider space on the bottom. Nothing there to indicate what went on in her head but numbers, text, and a pair of ‘data throughput’ meters―whatever that meant.
“Look, Aura… I know you’re scared. I would be too at your age.”
She knotted her eyebrows closer. “But you’re a boy.”
Kevin chuckled, and gestured with a side thumb at Tris. “Don’t let her fool you. She’d kick my ass.”
“Well, no kidding.” Aura started to roll her eyes, but her casualness faded to trembling. “She’s rogue ISF or something. They have cybernetics. I’m only a little girl. I’ve got two cats. One’s named―”
“You don’t have to do that.” Kevin sighed into the hand he rubbed the bridge of his nose with. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Aura looked down. “What are you going to do with me? I wanna go home. I already miss my family.”
“That’s the plan.” He smiled. “Back to your family. What got into her? Kidnapping isn’t who we are. Hey, maybe think about it like you just walked into a dangerous situation and we’re keeping you safe ’til it’s over.”
“Yeah, sure.” Aura smirked.
Tris squirmed and made an odd noise in her throat, like someone trying to sob through duct tape.
“What is she doing in there?” Aura glanced at her. “She sounds like my mom when she’s in those stupid drama sims.”
“Drama sims?” asked Kevin.
“Entertainment. Before the war, they called them ‘movies,’ but with these, it’s like you’re in there with the characters. She always watches lame ones where people fall in love and then one of them dies… or something like that. Puts her in a bad mood for days. I don’t know why she keeps doing it.” Aura grumbled. “It’s like living with someone who has a death in the family once a week.”
“Damn that sounds…” He scratched his head. “Yeah. Why would anyone do that? Why not watch a funny one?”
Aura shrugged and swung her feet back and forth.
She looks like a little version of Tris. Same shoes. Junior fascist soldier. “They’ve probably told you a lot of lies about what the world is like outside. Tris…” He chuckled. “She had all these ideas in her head from the ‘historical documentaries.’ She didn’t know they were movies.”
“They’re not movies.” Aura folded her arms.
“Okay, you know the one with the guy and the car… and this black woman with the big hair and the little midget sitting on the shoulders of the giant?”
Aura nodded. “Yeah. That’s from Arizona. Like 2062 drone footage.”
Kevin laughed. “Sorry. Nope. It’s a pre-war movie. Hell, it was old even in 2021. The guy’s name is Max right?”
“Yyyyyeah…” She stared at him.
“And I’m a Wildlander, so I couldn’t have seen it.”
“You’re out there.” She gestured at the wall. “You saw it happen in front of you.”
He shook his head, and rambled on about other things that happened in the movie, as well as other movies he’d seen. “They were all actors. What happened in that video never really happened.” Kevin bit his lip at the thought of the Boatman compound. “Okay… I will admit that there are some people out there that need to be shot in the face, but the entire world isn’t like that. Bad people existed before the world blew itself to hell, and they’re still out there. Only real difference is now there’s no cops. People have to protect themselves.”
“We have cops.” Aura narrowed her eyes. “And they’re gonna shoot you in the face if you hurt me.”
“You’re such a little sweetheart.” He smiled.
Kevin leaned against the next desk over from Tris, in front of Aura enough to probably grab her if she made a run for it. He hoped she didn’t. The situation already felt bad enough; having to manhandle a kid would cross the line. Dad would kick my ass. “We found this girl about your age whose father got killed by the Virus.” He rambled on about how she survived escaping her town past packs of Infected along with a bunch of survivors who all thought
she’d been infected because she had a cold. “Tris told me they tied her to the bed in case she woke up as one of those things. They’re damn lucky I wasn’t there. I wouldn’t have let them do that to her.”
Aura stared into his eyes for a few seconds and looked down. Her posture relaxed a bit more.
“I saw Infected for the first time when I was about ten or so.” He told her about how his adoptive parents decided to move, and their convoy strayed too close to a big city. Aura started to cry when he mentioned the teenaged boys who buried the dead before realizing they’d become sick and committed suicide after digging graves for themselves. “Abby’s got nightmares still… like I do. I don’t know if we’ll ever stop seeing those things in our dreams. What we’re doing here… we’re only trying to stop anyone else from having to go through that.”
“What you’re saying sounds like a lie, but I think you believe it,” whispered Aura.
Kevin gripped the desk on either side of his butt, and looked down. “I wish it was a lie.”
“Okay, so say I do believe you’re really going to let me go. I don’t know where this is. It’s scary down here. I hope you’re not going to like tie me to a chair and hope someone finds me when you leave.”
“Nope.” He pointed at the vent. “You can crawl back up the way you came in. We’re probably going to leave underground. I doubt you’d want to go there.”
The lights flickered.
“What’s happening?” whispered Aura, looking up.
“She’s doing… something.” Kevin glanced to his left.
Tris sat up, her eyes fluttering like hummingbird wings.
“You okay?” asked Kevin.
The Roadhouse Chronicles Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 120
