by Ramona Finn
I offer her a faint smile and nod. But now I am worried.
The AI has connected to me before in dreams. I had thought the Glass Hall might be safe from Conie—but is it?
Alis clears her throat and nudges my arm with her elbow. I glance at her. I realize she has gotten some of the dust off her face and hair. She wears her red hair pulled back now.
“Did you find a bath?” I ask. I miss the hot springs from our old tunnels.
She shakes her head. “Water is too precious here to waste on bathing, but one of the Hills Clan gave me a cloth she scavenged and it got most of the dust off me.” She glances away, and then looks back and says, “I heard what Bird told you yesterday. About telling your story to the clans. Are you going to do it? Do you think it’ll help?”
My stomach churns and I put a hand over it and press down. “What do you think?”
She lifts a hand and pulls a face, and then looks away. Scooting over, she props her back against the wall. Alis is not the type to show her emotions, but I see a touch of hope in her eyes.
Looking away, I shake my head. “No, I’m not going to try to speak to the clans again. They won’t listen, and…and telling them everything I know is not a good idea.”
She tugs at a loose bit of thread that holds her skin pants together. “Why not?”
I take another drink of water to give myself time to order my words. “The clans will either help or not. Wolf will convince them—or not. My story…I’ve told them what they need to know. Now they have to make their own choices. We all do.”
And that’s what this is coming down to—choices to make.
The Rogue clans come back with very little to show from the scavenge. I notice the other clans giving Red Kite dirty looks, as if they now doubt her words. If she said she knew of a good place to scavenge, she has failed. That’s not a good thing in a leader.
Wolf heads over to me. I’ve been pacing in the Glass Hall, torn between the desire to go back to Dr. Sig’s lab and worried about the dream—or whatever it was. I can’t risk a connect if I cannot control the hack. Skye is back from exploring, and she and the others from the Tracker Clan are gathered to divide up the few bits of plant roots from the scavenge.
Wolf grabs my arm and leads me to a place in the Glass Hall behind one of the glass walls. Everyone can still see us, but they won’t be able to hear whatever Wolf has to say.
“How did the scavenge go?” It is a stupid thing to ask—I can see the meager results—but I want to get Wolf talking.
He gives a low growl and slashes a hand in the air as if knocking away the question. “Bird told me she urged you to challenge the clan leaders. I think she’s right. I think most will hear you.”
I let out a breath and wrap my arms around me. “Do you really think they want to hear how I can make connects that no one else can? That I look like Dr. Sig—like the AI? Do they want to hear I can…I can make hacks here in the Glass Hall, and I’m not sure I should be able to do that. I’m not even sure I am trustworthy.”
His dark eyes narrow. “Lib, hacks are what you do. Special does not mean bad.”
I take a breath and tell him of my dream. And how I don’t know if it really was Dr. Sig—a connect to her here in this place—or if the AI can connect to me.. “If the AI—if Conie—can reach me in here, that means I’m a danger to every Rogue.” I wave my arms around us. “This is what she wants—all the Rogues, or almost all of them, and the Glitches in one place.”
Wolf stares at me. He shakes his head and stands straighter. “You fought the AI. You have gone into the Norm to the AI. You are not the AI.”
“I have things I don’t remember about myself—things I don’t trust in myself.” I shake my head. “What if I’m giving everyone the wrong information? The AI said she made me—she made with a blend of biology and gear and the AI put Dr. Sig’s DNA inside me. I don’t know how much of Dr. Sig I have—do I have her memories, or just her mind and her face? Or am I really a lot more like the AI? Is that why it was so easy for me to use the biogear—because that’s what I am? Part machine? Is that really what you want me to tell the Rogue clans?”
His expression softens and he steps closer. He puts his hands on my shoulders. “You are not a drone or a scab. You are Lib. You know the AI because you can connect with it—that is our advantage. That is the reason why we can fight. You are not tainted—you are gifted and we need your gifts, Lib.”
I search his eyes—I want to believe him. I want to trust that he is right.
But what if I am the one built wrong?
The thought tugs on me, leaving me even more worried.
I open my mouth, wanting to argue with him—wanting him to keep reassuring me.
The shaking ground stops my words and leaves me staring.
At first I wonder if I’m the one quivering. But Wolf glances up and says, “Earth’s moving again.”
The glass walls rattle. Everything seems to sway. Wolf wraps his arms around me and pulls me close as if to shield me. He backs us up until we’re next to a wall, but I’m not sure that will provide any protection. I keep thinking of the tunnels collapsing, of how the tower in the Empties—the other Empties—fell. The glass around us flexes and wobbles as though made of water. Shouts echo through the rooms. Many of the Rogues stagger and run to get outside. I can’t move. Others do like Wolf and find a spot to stand against what seem to be the outside walls. I hope the other Trackers are safe—that Croc has the injured tucked into corners and that Alis and Skye have found a spot to ride this out, and that Bird is okay.
Wolf holds me tightly, sheltering me with his body. I cling to him, an urgent thought racing through my mind.
This cannot last.
I’m right. The shaking gets worse and the glass walls warp and shift and shatter.
Chapter Eleven
The shaking stops at last, leaving behind an eerie silence. I am shivering now, but still in Wolf’s arms and still on my feet. He shifts, and I do as well and glance around.
No one seems to be injured—at least I don’t see blood or bodies sprawled on the floor like dead animals. Everyone is still on their feet. I count clans—Tracker, Hills, Sing-Song, Walking Tall. I see only a few red-clay painted faces of those in the Fighter Clan. Most of them fled outside. They will have a hard time living down the fact they did not stand with the other clans.
Wolf lets go and heads out to help the others. I follow him. First thing we check on is Croc and the injured. The room Croc chose went through the shaking better than the main hall. Everyone there is well and no glass has fallen. Wolf asks Bird to help Croc mend any cuts or bruises, but Croc snaps back that what he needs are the healing herbs and better supplies. We all need water. I can see we will have to do another scavenge soon. But not now.
All the clans work to clear the broken glass. That is harder than dealing with it falling, and a few end up with cut hands. Everyone speaks in low tones, and shares nervous glances to check the walls and ceilings and make sure they are not going to fall on us.
The Glass Hall no longer seems to be the safe place. But where else can we go?
Alis comes over to me and asks, “What do you think they’re talking about?” She nods to the Fighting Clan who are clustered in one corner and talking with each other.
I shrug. “Probably about the ground shaking.”
She gives me a sideways look and says, “Maybe now is the time to tell them your story. Maybe they’ll listen.”
Skye comes over and asks, “Who’ll listen to what?”
Alis opens her mouth to answer. Before she can, I tell Skye, “Nothing. It’s not important.”
Shaking her head, Alis says, “It is important. You’ve said so yourself. We have to stop the AI and destroy the Norm and we can’t do that without all the Rogues helping.”
Skye stiffens and turns to face Alis. “The Norm isn’t such a terrible place, you know that. You’ve been there—you were once a Tech, too.” She turns and walks away, her hair swi
nging.
Crow comes over to where Alis and I stand and asks, “What was that about?”
I shake my head, but I tell him, “The Norm was Skye’s home—and…and she’s right. It can be nice in the Norm. They have green plants—grass and trees. And food and water, and it’s never too hot or cold.” I let out a long breath “In some ways it’s perfect. So long as you do what the AI wants you to do.”
“And don’t glitch up a program,” Alis said, her voice bitter. “You glitch the work—the AI throws you out like trash. That’s why the AI has to go.” She walks away, heading the opposite direction from the path Skye took.
Crow watches her and then glances at me. “But it’s not for you, right? It’s not your home. You’re clan now.”
He stares at me as if looking for something in my face that will confirm his words. I part my lips to tell him something…but the truth is, I’m not sure what to answer.
Yes, I’m clan. I joined the Rogues. But we’ve lost our home in the tunnels. My memories are fragments, and what I have pieced together all seems linked to the AI. And to Dr. Constance Sig.
Letting out a breath, I tell Crow, “Maybe…maybe I am more of a Rogue than anything else, but right now all I seem to have are questions. I don’t know what to tell you.”
Crow touches the back of my hand with one finger. “You’re clan. That’s all you need to know.”
I wish that was true.
Crow glances around us. “It won’t be safe to stay here.” His voice is cool, almost icy. I wonder if he is thinking of those in the Tracker Clan buried in the tunnels.
But I also know I cannot leave this place. There are answers here that I need. I glance around us. “It doesn’t matter if this place is safe or not—very soon, nowhere on this world will be safe.” I turn to look at Crow and focus my attention on him. “We can’t hide. We can’t run. The AI intends to crack this world open and destroy everything. Nothing will survive.”
Turning, I walk away and start to make my way back to the lab. I need answers. Alis wants me to talk to all the clans, but I don’t want to do that when I still have questions. And Skye’s words leave me wondering if it is possible to keep the Norm without the AI. I don’t think we can—but I need to find out.
Chapter Twelve
A soft humming echoes through the glass halls. The sound is beautiful. It’s also sad and lonely. It’s so soft you could almost miss it, but in the hallway to the lab I can hear it echoing against the glass walls. I pause to listen, wondering if this is someone’s voice or am I hearing the AI again? The voice sounds familiar, so I follow it.
My steps echo from the hard walls and ceiling. I turn left and right, following the hum, which is so pretty that I am certain it can’t be the AI. The sound leads me toward the lab, and I was going there anyway. Is this Skye making this hum? This pretty sound? The walls here have cracks in them now. I touch one. The crack slowly mends itself. Jerking my hand away, I focus on my steps. As I get closer to the lab, I see fewer cracks—it is as if the Glass Hall knows how to heal itself. Which is an odd idea. It is almost as if the place is alive. Is the hall humming?
The sound grows louder, lifts up and then drops down again. It leads me to the entrance to the lab. Inside, Bird wanders the lab, her arms crossed so she is not touching anything. Oddly, the colors in the glass change with her voice as she hums higher and then lower pitches. It is almost as if the walls are echoing Bird’s voice, but how can they do that and why would they?
I stand for a moment, listening to her voice, wondering where she learned to make her voice seem so sweet, and wishing I knew how to do this. She seems to become aware of me for her voice trails off. She turns and stares at me.
She seems smaller than usual in the lab—the size of the room is bigger than I remember. Bird pushes her hair and ribbons back from her face.
Waving a hand behind me, I tell her, “I’ll just go. I didn’t mean to interrupt or stop your…your voice.”
“No, stay. We should talk.”
I almost wish I hadn’t followed her voice—I’m not certain I am up to another talk. Alis isn’t happy with me and neither is Skye. Is Bird going to tell me, too, that I need to talk to the clan?
But there’s something gentle about her words and tone. I think back to when Skye first brought me to the Tracker Clan and Bird was the one to talk Wolf into letting me be part of the clan. She once trusted me and convinced Wolf to give me a chance. But that was before she started to have visions about me—and before I started to have dreams of death.
Stepping into the lab, I glance around. The glass walls turn a pale white now. What will happen when I touch the walls again? Will the screens appear again? What is it that I can connect to here? My fingers almost itch with the desire to make a connect, but I’m also worried about it enough that I don’t mind putting it off for a time.
Bird sits on the floor, legs crossed in front of her as if we are in the tunnels and have a fire in the middle of the room for warmth. She pats the floor, not with invitation to sit, but as if testing it. “Did you notice it’s soft? Soft and warm. It’s almost like it’s been wanting company and is trying to make us welcome.”
I shrug and have no idea what to answer. This is just a place. So I tell her, “That was pretty—what you were doing with your voice.”
She nods. “It’s a song. Not like one from the Sing-Song Clan. They use chants mostly. But my mother used to sing to me when I was little.” She frowns and pulls at the ribbons in her hair.
I wander around the room, and come back and sit across from Bird so I can face her. “Your mother was in the See Far Clan—they’re not here with the other clans. Crow told me they’re gone.”
Bird nods. She glanced down at her hands. I wait to see what she might tell me. She was the one who said she wants to talk.
After a long time, Bird says, “I hate them.”
“Your old clan?”
She shakes her head, her wild hair bouncing with the movement and the ribbons swaying. “The Fighter Clan. They’re why the See Far Clan is gone.” She closes her eyes and opens them again. Her eyes seem very bright. “Seeing doesn’t always mean you can stop what’s coming. But you know that. They’re never going to help us—Red Kite will never let them.”
Leaning forward to rest my elbows on my thighs, I ask, “Why don’t the clans work together? They’re all Rogues.”
Bird gives a snort. “When you don’t have much, you have to fight for what you do have. Clans fight for territory, for water, for…well, for just about any reason. My mother had the vision of the clan dead. She sent me away before it happened. She told me there was no way to stop what was going to happen”
Frowning, I ask, “Why are you telling me this? Do you think all visions are…are locked?”
She tips her head to one side and stares at me. She seems to be considering her answer. She takes a minute as if thinking over what she wants to say. “Because you need to know things. Visions aren’t—they aren’t always clear. But my mother taught me, just as her mother taught her, that visions are real. Visions are about choices. Do we listen or not? Do we pay attention to warning signs?”
“Why didn’t your clan just move if they knew the Fighter Clan was coming to…well, to fight?”
Bird’s mouth pulls down and she stares at me as if I’ve just said something stupid. “And what if by moving that’s when the Fighter Clan finds us? Or what if we move right into a trap? A vision can push you into the wrong choice. That’s what happened to the See Far Clan. Most thought the clan would be safe if we stayed put. But that was the wrong choice.”
I nod and stare down at the floor. It is soft—and warm. I trace a hand over the glass and press my finger into it, and then I look up at Bird. “You think we’ll make the wrong choice now? You think hiding, staying put is the wrong choice? Am I going to be the one who pushes the clans into that choice?” She shakes her head, but she doesn’t answer me, so I ask, “Your visions told you to tell me all of this?”<
br />
She shrugs. “Maybe. I have to make choices, too. And I’ve run out of smoke, so I’m not even sure I’m going to get any more visions.”
Frowning, I ask, “You once said you saw me in shadows—and in ruins. You said I would do great things—and that I bring destruction. You said I’d change the world.”
Bird nods. “And I still see a tie between you and our enemy—the AI. That is the shadow—and it grows stronger. Larger. It will swallow you one day.”
I shake my head. “I thought you said we had choices—that visions showed choices. I have a choice about that. I have no intent to let the AI swallow me.”
Bird pushes up to her feet in one smooth movement. “The visions aren’t all that clear sometimes. Just whispers in the dark. But take the warning. The Rogues won’t follow you—not all of them. You get the Fighter Clan on your side, you’ll lose the Tracker Clan and the Walking Tall Clan. The Hills Clan won’t follow anyone, and the Sing-Song Clan can’t fight worth anything. You’re going to have to make choices about who follows you—and who dies because of that.” She doesn’t sound angry—just resigned. She waves an arm around her. “Stay. Find what you need.”
With her ribbons fluttering, she walks out of the lab.
Standing, I put a hand on my hip and think about going after Bird to ask about her vision—what might be her last vision. But if it wasn’t that clear, what else would she be able to tell me. And do I even want to know more? Bird is right—visions are a two-edge blade. A vision can push you into doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. The See Far Clan would have done better to have guards posted instead of relying on some blurry sight of what might happen.
But still…is Bird right? What if I am destined to be swallowed by the AI?
Conie wanted that, the last time I confronted her—the last time I tried to destroy her with Raj’s virus code. She went from using me, to trying to destroy me, to wanting me integrated with her because of all I have learned. But that is not going to happen.
