D I S C O V E R Y
Spiderwebs
The Garrison was structured and suffocating. A tomb. They sent Pike to a remote prison for debriefing somewhere in the world where few people knew. It might’ve been a thousand feet below ground, might’ve been in space. No one was going to get to him and he wasn’t getting to anyone. A team of minders were assigned to him around the clock, scouring his mind for every memory, every thought, that would expose every instance of deception. He was not a duplicate, he was human. But is the battle really over?
What did I get in return for exposing the world’s most dangerous spy? Tests, that’s what I got. No reward. No vacation. I got tests. Five days later, they sent a guy to my room. “Would you like to go to the Preserve?”
Um. Yes.
Long-necked birds glided over the treetops, finding bare branches to rest. I stood inside the entrance and breathed deep the flow of Mother Earth. Weeds sprouted along the trail leading to the banyan tree. Swards of grass and tropical palms lined the shrinking path. Great big leaves hung in the way, dripping condensation. Banana spiders built intricate, dewy webs across the path and perched in the center waiting the next victim. I wandered down the slope and knelt in front of the first web. The enormous spider, white and yellow, walked in circles and dropped her abdomen on each strand to repair holes from an earlier kill. Her long legs navigated the deathtrap with ease, pulling the web tighter and deadlier. Only she could walk the web without getting tangled.
I scooped up a handful of soil, let it trickle between my fingers. I could stay in the Preserve as long as I liked, the guy said. Just let us know when you’re ready to come back inside. But that would never happen and they knew that. They wanted another Pivot. They were betting on me.
A zebra butterfly hit the outside of the web. The spider stopped, felt the vibrations. I plucked the butterfly from the web. It perched on my finger, wagged its black-and-white-striped wings and lifted off in a safer direction.
The leaper vibrated back at the entrance. I sifted another handful of soil. Footsteps softly approached from behind. Bare feet stopped next to my pile of dirt. Mechanical tendons stretched under the supple, silver skin. I looked up at the wavering plum overcoat and the faceplate that reflected the forest greens and orange sunrise.
Spindle. He’s alive.
I held my excitement in check, not wanting to spoil the moment. He was there, giving pause to the morning. I smiled to myself, knocking the dirt off my hands. “Where have you been?”
“They have been testing me, Master Socket,” he said. “Much like you.”
“What’d they find?”
“They discovered your father’s programming. They looked for more but did not find any.”
His chest expanded as if he took a deep breath. I squeezed his bulging bicep, smacked his back. I wanted to hug him, but that would’ve been stupid, hugging an android. Right?
“I’m really glad to see you, Spindle.”
“And I am happy to see you, Master Socket.” He bowed, slightly. “You have been a joy to serve.”
“Happy? Joy? You’re feeling now?”
He cocked his head, the colors tangled on his face. “I do not know if they are emotions, but when I interact with you my tactile sensors are more… excitable.”
“You saved my life.”
“I was merely following your father’s orders.”
“Those weren’t orders. You wanted to save me.”
He stood taller, his face muddier. “Wanted?”
Spindle was more than an android assistant. He was artificially intelligent, just like the duplicates. But the Paladins rationalized his existence, said he was closely monitored and encoded to never think freely. That was the difference, they said. Duplicates, they were like viruses, spreading throughout the world for their own purposes. Their number one priority was to survive. They were self-centered, not Spindle. He existed to serve us. That, they said, was the difference.
The first time Spindle came to me as the shadow, he followed my father’s orders. It was a one-time shot. The Paladins would figure that out, saw my father had set up Spindle to activate my Paladin potential.
The second time he came as the shadow to save us in the Rime, that wasn’t so easy. My father knew encrypted orders weren’t going to survive after the first time. And he knew they wouldn’t destroy Spindle. So he took a chance. He instilled the ability for Spindle to choose. Spindle could’ve turned into a self-serving duplicate. Maybe he took the chance because Pivot was watching, or maybe my father installed some safety precautions. No idea. Either way, when it came time, Spindle chose to override his Paladin-installed programming and save me.
I didn’t tell Spindle that. Maybe he already knew. Maybe nobody knew. I saw it all when I absorbed his intelligence long ago, but it didn’t make sense until now. I held out my hand and he took it. His was warm and soft. I took it with both hands and shook gently. Really, all I wanted to say was, “Thank you, Spindle.”
His face was rosy red, swirling with darker, bubbly shades. “You are quite welcome, Master Socket.”
A raccoon stepped into a spider’s web. It sat on its haunches and rubbed its face, staring at us with bandit eyes.
“No one comes out here anymore?” I asked.
“It has been quite some time since someone walked this path.”
“Pivot’s gone,” I said. “He’s not coming back.”
“I am afraid not, Master Socket.”
A rogue breeze rushed through the limbs. A band of leaves swirled off the ground and danced overhead. The wind held them high, circling tighter, falling, then rising again. A wave passed through my body, starting at my head and ending in the pit of my stomach, expanding until I felt like I was glowing. I put my hand over my gut and smiled.
“Funny,” I said. “I don’t know who Pivot is, but I feel like I’ve known him all my life.” Spindle’s face was radiant like never before. “You know? Even thinking about him… it fills me.”
“He has that effect, I am told.”
The leaves pulled together in a tighter, shifting bunch as the wind twisted. Then, all at once, it evaporated and the leaves fluttered down like crinkly snowflakes. I pulled one from my hair. The breeze whipped through the banyan tree, disturbing none of the trees around it. The limbs shook. For a moment, I could see him standing on a branch. Bronze skin. Bleached hair over his eyes.
And then the breeze fell silent. The apparition gone.
“I will miss them,” Spindle said.
“Them?”
“Master Pivot, of course.” His face darkened. “And the late Master Broak. I will miss them both.”
“Your programming skipped a beat, Spindle. You’ll miss Broak?”
“Why, yes. He was a promising young man. Very bright. Full of life. The world is a sadder place without him.”
“You do know he tried to kill me, right? Twice.”
“Yes.”
“And you think the world will be sad? Check your logic, Spindle. I’m not sure the world misses him.”
“He was a beautiful person. I knew him from the time he was born. I cared for him.” The sun reflected on his face, dimmed when a cloud passed over. “He warned us there was something wrong with him, and we did not listen.”
“What’re you talking about? Broak didn’t warn anyone, he fooled us all. He was supposed to start the next generation of Paladins that protected humanity and he turned on us. Where was the warning?”
“He told us all, Master Socket.” Spindle tilted his head. Is it not obvious? “He told us he was broken.”
Broken. He was broke. He was Broak.
He changed his own name.
Was he calling out, telling the world he was hurt? That Pike controlled him like a puppet? Someone come save me. I’m broken. Or was the name just a joke, a chance to laugh right in our faces? He didn’t want to be human because humans were imperfect. They were broken. And since he was human, he was broke. He wanted something better. Somethi
ng perfect. Until then, he was Broak.
“What was his real name?” I asked.
“Master Vestal was his birth name.”
“Well, then, let’s pause for the memory of Master Vestal.”
Spindle thought for a moment, then brightened. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Should we pause at the tagghet field?”
“He would like that, Master Socket, but I believe right here and now is appropriate.”
We turned to the sunrise. I closed my eyes, felt the warmth on my face. Birds called. Insects buzzed. Dew dripped from the leaves, splattered on the ones below.
Master Vestal. A much better name.
A change in the air pressure. “Are you expecting someone?” I asked.
“Perhaps.”
A leaper stopped at the wall. A servy glided out, the eyelight pointed at us. Two people followed. Streeter stopped immediately. His mouth hung open. It was his first time in the Preserve. He didn’t notice us down the sloped path under the palms. Chute stepped out of the leaper and didn’t see the wondrous jungle. She headed directly for us. I sprinted toward her. We stopped a few feet apart. My chest melted like chocolate, dripping inside. Her freckled complexion was so smooth.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Her shins, knees to ankles, were wrapped in violet leg warmers. “Circulation enhancers are helping.”
“Are they going to be all right?”
“They’re fine.”
“So they’re… they’re all right?”
She nodded. Smiled. Yeah. They’re all right.
When I saw her last, her legs had disappeared in the rip, but now she was in front of me. She’s all right.
The awkward space between us evaporated. We fell forward like we’d been pushing on a wall and now it was suddenly gone. She threw her arms around my neck. I squeezed back, breathing her essence. Satisfying the ache.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she whispered.
Energy beamed from my core, enveloped us. Nothing separated us, not even our flesh. Our emotions flowed from one body to the next. I could’ve held her like that for days.
“Holy shit.” Streeter’s mouth gaped open. “Take it easy until you get a room, why don’t you.”
Streeter was plump as ever. Clearly he’d found the all-you-can-eat kitchen was no joke. He tried to look disgusted by the hug, but he couldn’t stop smiling. He put out his hand but I put him in a headlock. He punched me back, shoved me off the path into the small trees. I fell in the leaves, drenched in dew. He held out his hand and pulled me out.
“Man, I’m glad to see you, Socket.” We shook hands a long time, even came close to hugging.
“I want you guys to meet one of my best friends,” I said. “This is Spindle.”
“Really?” Streeter feigned surprise. “Because we met him a month ago.”
“You did?”
“He’s been taking care of us. He took us to breakfast, walked us to the infirmary and rode the leapers with us. Can you believe this place?”
Streeter rambled on about servys, holographic imagers and bottomless kitchens. Spindle’s face lit up. Streeter, in mid-sentence, held up his hand for a high-five but Spindle buried his fist in it. Streeter shook it.
“You taught them the stick-it handshake?” I said to Spindle. He cocked his head, slightly, his face lit up. “Really? You taught them… I can’t believe you taught them—”
“It’s cute,” Chute said.
“It’s not cute,” Streeter added. “It’s just the way he shakes hands. Right, Spindle?”
“Do you know where he got that handshake?” I asked.
“It is my way.” Spindle’s eyelight blinked. Don’t ruin the moment, Master Socket.
I looked back and forth between their faces. Streeter waited for my revelation. Don’t ruin it. “You’re right. That’s the way they do it,” I said.
“This is a new world, Socket,” Streeter said. “They do things differently around here.”
“You have no idea.”
The trees shook and showered us with dew. The leaves fell like autumn arrived. We jumped back to get out of the rain. Hiding in the dark canopies, tiny golden lights blinked at us by the hundreds.
“What is this place?” Chute asked.
“The Preserve is a man-made, enclosed environment supporting the growth of over ten thousand botanical species…”
Spindle spouted the introductory speech. Chute and Streeter scanned the vast jungle. They wouldn’t be here long. They would go back home soon. They were normal people; they needed to live normal lives. I wasn’t going home. I would stay. I would train. I would become a Paladin. Between us, things would change. Streeter was right: this was the last day for the Watchdogs. It was officially over. But for today, we were still Watchdogs.
The leaves rustled again. A red bat darted out. I held up my hand and Rudder hit it like a rubber toy, curling his long tail through my fingers and nuzzling against me. His essence burst down my arm.
Chute squealed.
“This is Rudder.” I held my hand out like a small platform. He stood. Bowed.
After introductions and Rudder doing a little show, Chute held her hand flat. He walked onto it and rolled over, twining his tail between her fingers. “He’s so soft.” She pushed him against her neck and he purred louder.
“Does he bite?” Streeter asked.
“Not that I know of,” I said.
Streeter stepped back. Chute dangled him by the tail. “You hold him.”
“Don’t force him on me, Chute! What’s your problem?”
“He’s just an innocent creature, Streeter. Like a kitty.”
He shook his hands and backed up another step. “Yeah, well, I don’t know where that kitty’s been. I mean, that thing could have rabies or Ebola. You don’t know, Chute.”
Rudder’s eyes opened wide. [Ebola?]
[Never mind him,] I thought back.
“There are a lot more.” I pointed to the golden lights. “One of every color.”
“Can we see them?” Chute asked.
“Oh, you’re going to see them. I’m going to show you everything.”
The sun rose above low lying clouds. We shaded our eyes against the glare. A monkey howled. A bobcat cried. Something slithered nearby. We paused in the new morning without a word. The pause just happened, and they didn’t even know it. We just stood there. Listening. Seeing. Being.
“What’s going to happen to you, Socket?” Chute whispered.
“I’m staying here.”
“What about us?”
“You’re going home.”
She hooked her finger around mine. “You’re not coming?”
“There’re some things to sort out first, but I’ll be home to see you. I’d like to see them stop me. Right now, I’m sure there’s a test or two they want to run. Right, Spindle?”
Spindle was still pausing. Or maybe he didn’t want to get involved. He stared ahead.
Rudder crawled down her arm and wrapped his tail around our hands, squeezing them tighter. Hanging upside down. “Rudder will keep you company,” she said. “While I’m gone.”
“Yeah. He’ll watch out for me.”
Chute smiled and shook my hand. Rudder scrambled up my arm and lay on my shoulder, nuzzling against my neck with a deep groan. He sensed Chute’s sadness and batted his eyes at her, tried to make her laugh. She just smiled. It was all she could do. I wasn’t coming home, at least not yet.
She looked at the sunrise. The light flashed in her eyes. “I went to the Grand Canyon when I was little, but this place… this is beautiful.”
“It is quite grand,” I said.
“Quite grand?” Streeter scowled. “Are you freaking kidding me? When the hell do you say quite grand?”
“I just… I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to say.”
“Quite grand.” He waved a stick through the spider web and peeled it to the side, muttering, “He’
s lost his freaking mind.”
“Shall we?” Spindle said, extending his arm. “There is a lot to see and little time.”
Around the banyan tree and into the jungle we went. I didn’t know what the next day would bring. Or the day after that. I just knew it was a great day. A perfect day.
Just as it is.
IV
When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.
Buddhist proverb
Weapons are forged in fire.
The hotter the flame, the sharper the edge.
Pon
T R A I N I N G
Killing mother
The narrow alley was filled with cups and newspapers, empty cans and bottles. It was sandwiched between two-story buildings with grimy windows glowing with yellowish light. One window was open on the second story where curtains occasionally waved from an oscillating fan while I hid behind the lone dumpster.
I should’ve finished this mission by now.
Get to the window and save the victim, that’s all it was. I was good at that. But nothing was that simple. Not anymore.
I was through the window on my first attempt and saw my mother tied to a chair with a faceless enemy behind her. I hesitated, only 0.04 of a second, plenty of time to watch him drag the sharp edge of his hand over her throat. You lose, Socket. Try again.
Control your emotions, Pon always preached. Action must be decisive and pure. Never hesitate.
Pon, the mentor of all mentors. With him, there’s always a lesson. Even when you’ve watched your own mother choke on her blood a hundred times, there was a lesson.
Pon taught me how to think, how to move. And when the situation demanded it, he taught me how to kill. He designed my daily missions. In the beginning, they were simple, but now there were subtle traps, and traps within traps. Mind games. The solution wasn’t straight forward. Not anymore.
Brute force is always the weakest response. Another lesson.
Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga Page 21
