Coded the connection sag.., p.13
CODED (The Connection Saga Book 1), page 13
“Come in, Come in,” she says, beckoning us forward with one hand. The other grips the glass like a precious artifact. I take a few steps inside, following Eliza, when Claire notices me.
“Ariadne, dear. I didn’t know you’d be joining.”
“Neither did I, really.” My eyes find Eliza’s, and she smiles reassuringly.
“How are you liking Black Web?” Claire asks gingerly.
“There’s still a lot to learn.”
“Of course. That’s like you, always willing to learn.”
There’s a softness in her voice. Vulnerability hangs on each word as she speaks. I get the sense that she wants to say what’s really on her mind, but something stops her. The drink in her hand finds pressed lips and she holds the bronze liquid in her mouth, closing her eyes, moving her mouth to savor it. She tilts her head back, swallowing hard before releasing a deep sigh.
“Director,” Eliza repeats.
“Hmm,” is Claire’s response, her head still tilted toward the ceiling.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be,” she says, her voice trailing like a fog, moving in a slow like trance.
A second passes, and Claire’s head drops to face us. Her eyes flash with determination, eyebrows dropping to a hard slant as she smiles.
“Let’s talk about your next operation,” she says.
The director I’ve come to know is back like she never left. Firm, strong, and direct, with no signs of weakness.
“Raelyn has intel that can further develop our investigation on the Enlightenment. As she mentioned in the briefing earlier, it will require assistance to understand it. Assistance from the hack thread. She has done her best at trying to decipher the coded intel but has come up short.” Claire pauses and drains the rest of the glass.
“There’s more to this,” Eliza says.
Claire doesn’t respond. She stands, catching herself from stumbling. Her arms hold her steady against the table as she finds balance. She walks to the front side of the table and leans against it like a seat.
Blonde hair falls down her face, stopping at her shoulders as if a line is drawn to prevent it from falling further. The emerald in her eyes is dulled, with less of the shine I noticed when I first met her. Pressed lips and angled brows show her mind at work, trying to formulate her next thought. Her lack of poise and unbalanced stance reveal the alcohol has clearly taken effect. I take another look at the container on the table and see a line across it, residue from the bronze liquid, visibly marking where it sat before she began drinking. Half the bottle is gone from its original amount. I’ve only recently met her, but I can tell when someone has had a little too much to drink.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Eliza asks.
“It’s your parents,” Claire breathes out.
“What about them?”
Urgency takes over the calm in Eliza’s voice. Something I have yet to hear. The collected formality that I’ve grown to associate with her has vanished. All traces depleted, taken over by anxious nerves.
“Two days ago, during Raelyn’s last operation here in Techdon, she came across a group of representatives for the Enlightenment. With Mason, they trailed them to see what their presence here meant. In doing so, they found your parents among them, exchanging information.” Claire pauses and examines Eliza, who remains petrified. With a deep breath, she continues. “Raelyn and Mason continued to trail them and in doing so, they were able to gather enough intel to determine the reason your parents are here. And that reason is to find you.”
A longer, thicker pause fills the space with tension that is tangible. Dark, unseen energy looms between us, seemingly dissipating the clove scent, replacing it with something murky and unwanted.
“How?” Eliza asks, the question barely audible.
“We don’t know how they’ve managed to get this close. Given who they are and what they do, it’s even stranger. But however they did it, they are close.”
“Why didn’t you tell me two days ago?” Eliza says with a bite that bleeds betrayal.
“You know the answer to that.”
“I’m going.”
“You’re not.”
Eliza’s fists clench, tight until her hands are trembling. Her head dips low, red curtains concealing her face. Sniffling comes from the depths of her, and an anger I know all too well. The feeling of want-need for solutions regarding parental figures.
“Eliza, I know—”
“Don’t.”
Claire’s eyes fall, and her lips curve downward in a weak frown, her motherly instinct peeking through, wanting to help and console a child, though she can’t.
“You’re too close to this,” Claire insists. “I promise you will get the revenge you seek, but we—I need you for another very important operation.”
Eliza doesn’t say a word but gives a slow nod of confirmation, enough to satisfy Claire. I can’t see the pain on Eliza’s face, but I feel the energy radiating off her skin and poking its way into mine. The urge to touch her and let her know that someone feels the same pain surges at my core. My heart aches to embrace her, and my brain offers an alternative. As a compromise to my internal struggle, my hand finds her shoulder with a light, sensible touch. Her hand finds mine in return, soft and warm from the blood I can only imagine is boiling inside her. The smoothness of her small hand raises the hair on my arms, giving me the same sensual overload I feel when I successfully decrypt the hardest systems.
“Thanks.”
Eliza looks over her shoulder, blue eyes calm like a winter lake. There are no tears on her face as she stares into my eyes with a look of gratitude. With one last squeeze of my hand, she retracts and effortlessly twirls her hair into a bun. I watch her as she transforms back into the person I knew moments before this meeting.
“I’m ready for my next operation,” she says.
The pain is still in her voice, but her posture has changed, and her head is held high, like the information about her parents doesn’t faze her.
“Are you sure?” Claire asks. “You can take some time to gather yourself beforehand.”
“The faster I complete this assignment, the faster I can get to them.”
“Very well.”
Claire straightens her jacket, buttoning it with surprising accuracy.
“Your next operation regards the events from a few days ago. Since the incident in Arcadia, there have been no announcements nor any movement from the Enlightenment. I should say, there hasn’t been any known movement.”
“Which incident are you referring to?” Eliza steals the question from my mind.
“Both,” Claire says. “As you can see, no known movement after two different events within a matter of days is quite odd.”
“It is,” I say.
Claire looks past Eliza to me, happy to hear my response before continuing. “The death of Daniel alone should have sparked the Enlightenment to act.”
His name rings in my head. The boy who couldn’t hold his nerves around me, spilling coffee all over the table and floor. The boy who tried to kill me. Trace’s murderer.
“Killing him should have been enough to draw them out,” she continues.
“So, you were doing more than just protecting me?” I ask.
“Correct, Daniel would have done anything to get you in the hands of the Enlightenment. He may not have killed you himself, but he was definitely involved with those who keep the nation in check,” she retorts.
My mind is riddled by the puzzle presented in front of me.
“He wasn’t a normal waiter,” Eliza adds.
Claire takes a step forward and draws a sharp breath. “What do you know about Ezra Coleman?” she asks.
I stare with no response, hoping she’ll fill in the gaping hole that was left after the diner incident.
“Ezra Coleman is one of the people responsible for the nation we live in,” she continues. “The false utopia that presents itself to the world.”
There’s a heavy weight holding my chest tight. Something in the air tugs at my nerves, dragging them out of their hiding place.
“Ezra Coleman,” she repeats, “is one of the people responsible for the death of your parents.”
21
“What are you saying?” I ask, anger swelling inside my chest.
Claire takes a step toward me, and I take one back. Her eyes meet mine and transform to worry, a feeling I don’t need at the moment.
“Eliza,” she says, “could you give us a moment?”
The question is more of a statement, and Eliza nods and walks out.
“The Enlightenment is responsible for the death of your parents,” Claire repeats, causing the original pain to return. “Ezra is the only member we know by name, but as you know, the Enlightenment is represented by a group of four people.”
I start to pace, contemplating what my next move should be. I was in a building he owns. He could have been there during my extraction of the Establishment. Thoughts of failure begin to plague my mind.
“Ms. Young,” Amity says, “you couldn’t have known if he was there or not.”
Amity as always, says the words to erase the negative thoughts, but it’s not enough.
“You knew this, and you have me here, wasting time?” I say to Claire.
“You’re not wasting time. Without being here, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d still be alone, hunting for unknown people.”
Burning blood flows through my veins with enough intensity to explode. My muscles tense beneath my skin, making me want to slam a fist into a wall.
“Watch what you say to me next.”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Ariadne. I’m trying to help you.”
“How!?” I snap. “Me walking around this facility, meeting people I don’t care about is not helping me!”
“You aren’t seeing the bigger picture.”
“Fuck the bigger picture.”
She takes a step back at my outrage. Her face falls again in defeat, something I could care less about, knowing she held this from me.
“Ariadne,” she says delicately. “Think about it. If you had every member of the Enlightenment in this room right now, and you decided to kill them, what comes after?”
“I don’t care.”
“You do. I know you do.”
“You don’t know me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But what I do know is your parents and the entire reason for their fight. Our fight.”
The mention of my parents causes the anger to settle. I start to listen to what she has to say.
“Black Web doesn’t have all the answers, but we’re searching. Your parents died before they could tell us, or anyone else, the truth they found. Whatever it was had to be enough for them to hold until death. I believe the truth is the Enlightenment is on their way to complete dominance. Yes, right now, they have control, but there’s some holes they can’t fill. For example, hacking the node. If they are able to stop us, then the nation will surely be gone. The truth I believe your parents found was human control beyond the node.”
She takes a breath, monitoring my stillness before she continues.
“The bigger picture your parents saw was, if that truth was revealed, what would happen to the citizens? The answer is eradication.”
On her table, she activates a holoscreen displaying a map of the AOE.
“Years ago, in Areas 3 and 4, there was an uprising, far greater than what you’ve seen in Central Square,” she continues. “Ashland, a sector in Area 3 was subject to eradication and so was Darkport and Drownark in Area 4.” She zooms in on the map and the sectors she mentioned are decimated. Turned to ruins. “It’s where they got their names. Ashland was reduced to ash by fire and explosives. Whereas Darkport and Drownark were suffocated by—”
“The ocean,” I interrupt, seeing the image of water flooding the sectors.
She nods and closes the map.
“This happened before the node was implanted into everyone. I believe your parents held what they knew as long as possible, in search of a way to tell the citizens without this happening again.”
“The bigger picture,” I whisper.
“Yes. When your parents told me to watch over you, Adalina mentioned breaking the connection through a system. Do you have any idea what that could mean?”
Everything my mom ever taught me about the nation floods my consciousness as I sift through, trying to find a moment she may have mentioned it. But I come up empty.
“Not that I can remember,” I admit.
Tears start to fall from the overwhelming anger and hate I have for this nation’s rulers. What I believed to be my only purpose in life—I can’t seem to find a way to pursue it. Every decision I make seems to be the wrong one.
“Ms. Young, it may be wise to follow and listen to what they have here.”
“I know,” I manage to say.
“I support your drive and mission,” Claire says. “I want you to realize that there is a consequence for every action. If we go in, guns blazing, without a second thought, it could blow up in our faces.” She takes a step toward me, green eyes smiling with care. “We must always, expect nothing—”
“Prepare for anything,” I finish the statement.
“We need you as much as you need us.”
“So what would you have me do?”
She places her hands on my shoulders and takes a deep breath.
“Stay with us as we work toward the Enlightenment’s downfall. You will get your revenge, I promise.”
My mind can’t decide if this is the best course to take. But if Amity thinks it’s the right decision to stay, and Claire believes so too, then maybe it is.
At this point, I don’t have any other option.
22
Encryption.
One of the two abilities I learned first as a child. The other being ciphers. Both go hand and hand when one wants to protect their data from people who want to copy it or outright steal it. People who are better known as cryptologists. Encryptions aren’t easy to produce because of the nature of building a cipher, but they are the building blocks for any hacker who aspires to be great.
As Eliza and I ride the elevator down to the class, Claire’s theories roll through my head. If the Enlightenment are truly after complete dominance, what would that require? Wasn’t the node enough? And my mother’s words to her, a system to break the connection. When I repeat them to myself, I get a sense it’s something I do know but can’t reach in the back of my mind.
Eliza steps to a corner and activates her glove, watching the lights flicker.
“Ms. Young,” Amity says, “could the system Claire referenced to be the one inside your home?”
“Maybe, but I know the ins and outs of it. What could I have missed?”
“Adalina was very fond of encryptions, Ms. Young. There could be some we have yet to discover.”
“Wouldn’t you be able to register them?”
“Only if the connections are linked, and it appears there isn’t one.”
“Hmmm..”
Amity’s words send my mind into a whirlwind of possibilities. My mother leaving behind encrypted knowledge for me to find. Chills run through my body at the thought of solving an encryption she may have created.
The chime of the elevator pauses my anxious mind.
The class is on the bottom thread, among four other rooms I can only assume are classes, each one separated by pathways that lead to them. The elevator releases us directly above the core. We step out onto the glass floor, and I can almost feel the pulse of it. The hiss of the elevator shooting back up startles me, jarring my eyes to look around. Four large spheres, attached to walkways, form a diamond shape ascending the shining core in the center. Like planets orbiting the sun, they slowly rotate around it.
“Is this safe to walk on?” I ask.
“Yeah, you barely feel the movement.”
We walk toward one of the spheres and the closer we get to it, the more it resembles a planet in size. The walkway ends at a door containing an image of a lock on the entrance. Its white essence makes it visible against the black landscape of the underground. We reach the entryway and my head trails upward to see the top of the structure, and beyond it is the web of rods and walkways making up the entire facility. The vantage point of the bottom gives the building a vivid resemblance to a spider web. My focus returns to the door as Eliza steps in front of it.
I step in and see open seating eclipsing the center. The seated area hovers in place and when people take their seats, they dip low enough to match the edge of the elongated tables in front of them. Gleaming light, transferred through the rods above the circular dome, makes the room glow, traveling through the walls and illuminating the walkways and aisles. Ahead, at the back wall, a hologram projects a lock. The same lock on the outside of the door. Its steel coloring contradicts the mood of the room, and I find myself unable to look away. The lock is sealed and appears to be pulsing.
Links coil from within it, stretching across the entirety of the back wall. The glowing blue of the links look as if they are channeling data, traveling to and from the center of the lock. Each link travels from the rods, and as they touch the lock, they recoil, disappearing until replaced. A light show representation of an encryption.
“So that’s what you’re after?” Eliza says, taking her seat. “Here. Sit next to me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask defensively, taking the aisle seat in case I need to escape.
“You’ve been the talk of Black Web since you got here—actually, well before that. When the director wanted us to track you down. One of the main conversations floating around is, what exactly are you here for?”
“You heard me and Claire?”
“I didn’t mean too, but you got pretty loud. I thought I would have to run in and protect the director.”
The blue river once living in her eyes is now ice, with a frozen stare.
“So?”
She interlocks her hands on the table in front of her, waiting for a response.
I think of her question: What am I here for? I’m not sure I know that myself. except for the fact I need information to pursue my enemies, but that’s something I don’t need the world of Black Web knowing. I break away from her frigid glare and move my attention behind me, toward the room’s only entrance and exit.
