by Ramona Finn
And in the distance, I hear one quiet voice. “Release me.”
Dr. Sig—release. I know what to do.
Pulling the knife from the alien core, I step back. The hole I’ve made in the core starts to expand. The AI slaps a hand over the gap, but her hand is energy and the alien core stars to pull that energy into it as it struggles to close the breech I’ve made in the sphere.
“No. This cannot be. The core is perfect. The core brings true immortality. The core is what we need to save everyone—everything.”
The alien core pulls the AI into it. It falls to the floor and begins to glow. I’m blinded by the light and throw up my hands to shield me. It feels as If I’m being swallowed by it now—it pulls on me. Falling to the floor, I crawl to Bird and drag her with me out of the room.
I need to shut the door, but I don’t know if I can, so I stagger to my feet and drag Bird up the stairs. I won’t leave her here. I won’t leave one more person behind.
We end up crawling out of the hall. Behind me, a white light crawls up the walls, pulsing and hot. I slam my bunt palm against the door and shut it, but it’s not enough. The door seems to melt.
What have I done? Will this alien core destroy the world?
And then I hear Bird whisper, “You know what to do.”
And I do. The knowledge rests within me still. I close my eyes and reach out. It is like being in a vision with Bird and like being within the AI’s virtual world. It is like a connect with Wolf, only it is a connect to everything.
Energy and matter—they never end. The universe recycles itself over and over and this is just a small part of it. Even the alien core with all its data is tiny. I latch onto it.
Connection: Secure.
The world here is white—bright with knowledge. I tap into it as I would to hack water and then watch it stream out, back into the universe, back into the stars where it came from and wants to be again. The Glass Hall grows dimmer around me. Lights fade.
I grow dimmer with it, letting myself be sucked into the darkness. It is quiet there. Peaceful. Rest is there. I flow with it. But a small sound makes me turn.
A flash of blue swirls out of the white—is that a bird? It flutters and I reach for it. But it slips ahead of me, singing the most beautiful song I have ever heard, each note pure. I have to follow it. I have to…I have…
When I open my eyes, I seem to be back in the Glass Hall, for a hard floor is underneath me and is growing cold. It seems dark and far too quiet.
The alien core is gone. I am slumped on the floor next to Bird, unable to even stand.
It’s over. And somehow I survived. But what of the others?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Everything is so dark I don’t know up from down. I think I’m in my body, but it’s hard to say. I feel as if I have been torn apart and put back together again. Every muscle screams with fatigue as if I have been battling one of the animals of this world—and I lost. I don’t want to move—I don’t even want to breathe. But I must. I have to know—did Wolf survive?
Moving slowly, I push up onto my hands and manage to get into a sitting position. I may still be in the Glass Hall, but I don’t know. It is far too dark to see.
Feeling my way, I wince as my burnt hands grope along the floor. I come across something soft, and that something moans.
“Bird?”
She moans again—so she is still alive. Almost. Relief bubbles up inside me, giving me a push of energy. I stagger to my feet, find Bird’s arm and pull her up to stand next to me. I drag her arm over my shoulders, glad she is so very small. My hands shake and my legs wobble, but I need to find out what happened to the Rogues.
“Bird, wake up. I need your help. Stop lazing around.” The sharp words seem to stir her a little. She at least moves one foot. We stagger up the stairs and when we get to a closed door, panic starts to build in my chest. Will we be stuck in here forever?
I kick at the door and then kick harder, ignoring the jolts up my leg. Fear makes me stronger, and the fourth kick shatters the glass.
I step out, heading for what I hope will be the stairs out of the Glass Hall. Everything is so dark, it’s hard to tell and I close my eyes and try to remember the turns. I let my body follow what it remembers.
At last I see a drifting of pale light.
Dragging Bird out of the Glass Hall seems impossible. My shoulders want to give out. My legs shake. I need water—food. I want to close my eyes and give up. But Bird gives a soft moan, and I tell her, “Bird, you’ve got to help me. At least stand up. I swear, you are the laziest Rogue ever!” I keep muttering to her, calling her names, complaining about her. But the light ahead of us grows brighter. And Bird starts to put one foot in front of the other.
When we reach the surface, I drop Bird’s arm and collapse onto the ground. Dirt has never felt so good. But then I look to the Norm.
The dome no longer gleams bright. It looks scared with black lines and maybe even a few holes. I find it hard to care, and fall onto my back and close my eyes.
Light wakes me. Not harsh sunlight, but the soft light of the moon. And then I hear voices. I hear Skye’s clear, high voice calling my name.
I want to sit up, but only manage to open my eyes. Skye leans over me, one hand on my shoulder. Her hair seems silver in the moonlight and she sounds worried. “Lib? You alive?”
Smiling, I try to sit up to hug her. I manage to catch her arm and squeeze. “Almost. You? How did you do?”
She leans close and presses a water skin to my mouth. “Drink. Then we’re going to get you back into the Norm.” She sounds happy about that. I find it hard to care. Everything hurts. I just want to sleep.
The hum of an AT wakes me and wind brushes my face. I manage to lift my head and see the Outside rushing past. The dome of the Norm rises in front of me, and for an instant my heart jumps. But the AI is gone—swallowed up the alien core it wanted to possess. Instead, it was possessed. And now it’s gone into the stars—released.
Just as Dr. Sig is gone—her spirit released back to the universe.
I almost wish I was there, too, floating in dark peace. But the AT bumps over rocks, jostling me, leaving me aware of new aches on top of the old ones. And I have to find out what happened to Wolf.
For once, we drive into the Norm through a large hole, large enough to fit three ATs. The vehicle hums to a stop on grass and I stare at it. It seems alien to me just now.
Someone lifts me off the AI and I look up at the face, expecting Wolf. But it is Crow who carries me into a building and settles me on something soft.
“Beds,” Skye says, sitting next to me. “We have beds now. And food and water. The Techs ran away from us at first, but Mech and the other Rejects convinced them we could help with repairs to core systems and they’re starting to get used to having us around.”
I nod and smile. That’s all I can manage, and even the nod leaves my head spinning. Skye pats my shoulder. “I’ll have Croc come see you.”
Croc does come—and pokes me, leaving me wanting to slap his hands away, but I can’t manage that. “No breaks. We’ve some honey for the burns. You’ll heal with some sleep.”
I wish I felt that way. But he lifts my head and pours something warm and sour down my throat and rubs something sticky on my hands, and I drift into dreams that scatter when I wake again. And I wake to warmth wrapped around me—and a scent I know.
“Wolf?” I mutter the word.
Wolf wraps his arms tighter around me and tells me, “Sleep. Talk later.”
I give a hum. “Sounds good.”
The world becomes sleep and dreams, Croc pouring things down my throat and Wolf holding me. I almost want to stay like that, but at last I wake and for once do not feel as if my brain and body is being seared by power surges. The knowledge from the alien core is drifting away—becoming a dream itself. I sit up for the first time and look around at a room that holds the bed Skye was so happy with having. Several others are in beds, too—some look l
ike Rogues, but some seem to be Techs and some have the mechanical additions that mark them as Rejects. This seems to be where everyone hurt has been kept.
A door opens and I turn. Wolf walks in. His mouth twitches as he comes over to me, but he puts a hand on my shoulder as if to keep me in the bed. “Stay. Let Croc look you over. He’ll say if you can move to where we have those healing better.”
I glance around at the other still bodies—and then look at Wolf. “You thought I was dying? This is the room for the dying?”
Wolf sits next to me. He keeps his hand on me. “Croc didn’t know. Bird said you’d be back. Said you had to slip out of the other world and that takes time.”
I frown. “Bird? She…she did things.”
Wolf nods. “She had visions you’d be caught by the AI—and by something else. She said you’d be a Rogue without a knife and that’s never good. She said she had to be there to bring you back from your vision.”
I tug at the cloth that covers my bare legs. “A bird led me out of…of where I was after the AI was gone.”
Wolf nods. He doesn’t ask where the AI went—and I can see from his frown, he doesn’t really care. “There’s going to be a remembering for those who died tonight. Think you can make it?”
I tug at the cloth that covers me. “They’re not gone. They’re just back… ?” I wave a hand to the sky. “Back with the stars where we all come from.”
Wolf nods. “Good to remember them, though. We’ll remember Red Kite. And Mountain. And Elk.” He names far too many more—most of them I know. But I let out a slow breath that most of the Tracker Clan survived.
“How many hurt?” I ask.
“Many. Too many. But Skye’s got the Rejects helping Croc—they have better healing than anyone. They’ve been healing hurt Techs.”
I glance around and ask, “The Techs are fine with us being here?” Before he can answer, Bird comes into the room. She stops in front of my bed and stares at me. “Why did you drag me out?”
I blink and tell her, “What—you wanted to be left there?”
“Told you I had a feeling. Told you you’d need me. I knew that stopping the AI wouldn’t be enough. I couldn’t understand all of it—something about light and we’d need help.”
I nod. I don’t want to ask if Bird was the blue bird I saw in the light. I do not really know how Bird’s visions work, but they are close to the alien core’s technology than is really comfortable. Both tap into the universe in a fundamental way. I don’t think Bird wants to hear this.
Wolf asks, “You want to tell us what happened to you?”
I look from Wolf to Bird. Does anyone want to hear about quantum particles and alien cores and a woman kept in stasis for longer than anyone can remember? And how do I explain I became light and knowledge for a time—that I could manage a connect without a platform. That part of me is alien technology and part of me is Dr. Sig and I am something very dangerous. But I choose to be a Rogue instead.
I’m not sure what I will tell everyone, other than that the AI is gone forever. The others will simply have to take some of my story on faith. And Bird can explain her part with visions—the Rogues understand that.
Throwing back the cloth from over my legs, I ask, “Can I get clean clothes? And maybe a bath?”
I get both—the bath first, and water and food, and then clothes. The tunic is from a Tech and reminds me of the one I wore when I first was thrown out of the Norm. I find a Rogue from the Fighter Clan—they smear black from burnt-out fires for mourning now—and I swap my tunic for the skins she wears. I do not want to be a Tech, or a Glitch, or anything other than someone who lives in the Outside.
The remembering is held just outside the Norm, near the huge hole the Sing-Song Clan made in the dome. The Rejects join us, and a few Techs come to the edge of the Norm to stare outside and watch.
Wolf stands before a fire, tall and imposing. He, too, had a bath—with me. The firelight illuminates the bruises and cuts on his face and arms.
He speaks of the drones and how they suddenly fell from the sky, and the scabs that slumped over and stopped working. He talks of scavenging their parts, and of the help from the Rejects and the Techs. And then he calls on those who knew the dead the best.
The remembering takes all night. Crow remembers Red Kite—he is to be the new leader of the Fighter Clan. Mountain’s son, Golden, remembers him for the Walking Tall Clan. Mouse remembers Elk for the Tracker Clan, and Skye remembers Alis, who yanked Skye from her last connect, but who could not save herself from the sentinels who swarmed her. My vision blurs and my eyes sting. I hope Alis is with Dat now. The voices speak through the night of bravery in the fight—how this Rogue helped to save others, how the Fighter Clan lost the most in number, of the hope for those gravely wounded to return.
When it is done, the fire burns low and everyone looks to me. Wolf takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. It is time for me to talk.
I look around and breathe in the scent of burning wood and the smells of the Outside at night—the blooming night flowers. A wolf gives a call to its pack, which answers. I take a breath and tell them, “We have lost many. Raj is one to remember as well, for the AI stole his life. With the AI gone, Raj is truly gone as well. The AI…it destroyed itself with a connect to something it thought it needed and could not really handle. That should be a caution to all of us. It almost took me with it, but Bird led me from the connect with a vision. Now I have a vision for the future.”
Techs gather at the hole to the Norm. Rogues sit quietly and Rejects stir on the edges of the circle of the clans—their mechanical parts clattering. “My vision is clear. We work together now—or we do not survive. The Norm’s systems can be made to function, but the gear must serve the people, not the other way around. Now is the time to make changes to how we live. Now we are one clan, for we have fought side-by-side to keep our world safe. Now is the time to reclaim our world.”
My throat thickens. I swallow hard and lift my voice. “Many died. Let us prove they died for something good. Let us make something better than what we have had. Let us stand together, not apart as Techs or Rejects or Rogues or Glitches. Let us stand as humans who celebrate life.”
I see the Techs stir. Wolf comes to stand next to me. Then Iguana and Faun stand—Faun has to struggle to her feet, and Iguana helps her. Skye sits with the Rejects. She stands and Mech stands with her—the other Rejects follow Mech and stand as well. Slowly, Techs step from the Norm—they edge out wary of the night sky, the cool air, and a world they have never known. But they come.
Next to me, Wolf leans close and mutters, “Sounds like a lot of work.”
I nod. “It will be.” I put my hand into his. Not everyone stands. But enough do. It is time to make a new world now. One without the AI—and with gear that works for us.
Epilogue
“Lib, where are you?”
I turn from staring at the Glass Hall. It calls to me sometimes. I hear it in my dreams, faint whispers that stir in my mind—a connect made that will never leave. I think at times that when I die I will not die, but I will be here in the Glass Hall, trapped with whatever remains. Or perhaps I will die with Wolf and he will hang onto me as he does now.
Wolf strides up to me from the Empties. Two of our boys follow him. They are my miracles. I did not think I would be fertile and would have little ones, but I have. Four so far. I do not think I will have more—at least Bird tells me I have done enough to grow the clan and will not be asked to do more.
The Tracker Clan lives here now, in buildings we reclaim. The Outside is still hot by day and cold by night, but the Rejects have found out how to make rain come in the warm time, and now the Outside blooms and turns green when the sun stands overhead. The Techs say we are returning seasons to the Outside—they’ve had these in the Norm forever.
We see the Techs at least once a year on Remembrance Day. A few of the Techs came out to join the Rogues, but most remained inside the Norm. The Rejects keep them fro
m trying to reseal the Norm—but there is talk again they might try another reseal. Some of the Techs really hate the sandstorms we still have, and not even the Rejects know how to stop them from coming in the dry times.
Wolf takes my hand. He smiles at me. He smiles more these days. And gray now streaks his hair at the temples. I like how it looks. My hair is long, too, these days, as is the hair of our little ones—but they all look like Wolf, big and strong. Even our girl child is more Tracker than Glitch.
“Thinking of a connect?” Wolf asks.
I shake my head. “No need. We can do a trip to the Norm for water.”
Wolf gives a snort. “They’ll ask for wildflowers in exchange, or deer hides or the pretty colored rocks we keep finding.”
I nod. “Yes, but the Hills Clan has lots of those. We have bags of them.”
The Hills Clan visits often, the Sing-Song and Walking Tall Clans not so often, but the Sing-Song clan lives in the other set of Empties and calls it Homeland now. The Fighter Clan lives here, alongside the Tracker Clan. Skye left us to live with the Rejects, and Bird made a match with Crow. Mouse is grown and spends part of her time with the Rejects, part of her time with the Techs and part of her time with the Rogues—she is the one who brings news to everyone. Sadly, Croc left this world for the next last season—we are trying now to get Med to leave the Rejects and come live with us in the Empties. We need a new healer.
I glance at the Glass Hall again. So much knowledge still exists there—I can feel it at times. But now that the alien core is gone, so is the power for the Glass Hall. So it remains dark and empty and no one goes into it. Not even me. I think we are all a little afraid of the place where the AI’s power was swallowed up.
Wolf drapes his arm over my shoulders and starts to walk me back to the Empties. “We need a new name,” he says.
