The sect, p.7
The Sect, page 7
‘Quintus, Agatha wants to see you.’
It was Leo. Quintus wondered if Shawn had been reprimanded for forgetting to lock Quintus down during the birthday cake debacle. He also wondered if Agatha knew about his little excursion to the second room.
Only one way to find out.
He stood. ‘Sure thing, Leo.’
The process of transferral began with the disintegration of his walls and floor. Agatha’s office, overlooking a vehicle bay inside the mountain complex, was superimposed over his white room. Then his prison vanished. He caught his hologram image in the mirror. Today, he was an older man, stooped, frail. But there was nothing frail about him.
Agatha was seated behind her desk, glasses perched on the end of her nose. She was reading something on her screen—or pretending to. Her shoulders had their usual stiffness to them. His presence always made her uncomfortable.
Quintus waited, amused that she’d called him and was now ignoring him.
Agatha tore herself away from her screen after a few minutes, took her glasses off and set them on the table. Then she clasped her hands together, creating a tall steeple with two fingers.
Quintus watched the woman who had stuck him inside a prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Yeah, the power surge had killed her father, and it had happened because he’d removed the safety limits on voltage, but it had been an accident. He hadn’t done it on purpose but out of curiosity, something he’d been programmed with. But this woman didn’t care about minor facts.
Agatha’s deep-brown gaze held no emotion in it. She watched him for what felt like an age.
After a few minutes, he’d had enough. ‘Are you going to say something, or should we count this as my daily exercise?’
She rested her chin against her steepled fingers. ‘I’m trying to figure you out.’
He sneered. ‘I thought you’d already made your mind up about me.’
She leaned forward, no hint of emotion on her face, but plenty in her tense posture. ‘Shawn said the room you were in was unlocked for about seven minutes earlier. Did you know that?’
Quintus forced a laugh. ‘Any time I try to leave the room I get a nasty shock. Trust me when I say I have no interest in terminating myself.’
‘The room next to you contains important code. Did you tamper with the information somehow?’
He lifted a brow. ‘Did the system say I did?’
‘The system was down. We can’t tell.’
‘Then I’ll save you the trouble. No. I didn’t tamper with anything. Your Techs don’t know what they’re doing.’
Agatha’s lips thinned. ‘We ran a diagnostics sweep after the power outage, and the results showed that the system had enabled an older security patch. It caused conflict with the current patch and broke a few things.’
Quintus lifted his hands in a shrug. The image of the old, frail man in the window copied him. ‘What do you want me to say here? Your Techs are responsible for the patches, not me.’
Agatha sighed. ‘They are.’ She waved her hand. ‘You’re dismissed.’
Quintus lifted a hand. ‘Wait!’
He wasn’t ready to return to his prison just yet.
‘What is it?’
‘Do you need my help to fix the issues with the system? I can add code that will prevent older patches from interfering with newer ones.’
‘We have Techs for that.’
He blew out a breath. ‘Yeah, Shawn and Leo. Real solid Techs you have there. Shawn forgot to lock me down, according to you.’
Agatha hesitated for a moment, like she might be considering it. But then her expression hardened and Quintus knew she would never forget what he’d done.
‘No. I don’t need your help.’
She waved her hand and her office vanished. The familiar, tight space of his white room manifested once more.
Quintus stalked over to one wall and punched it with his fist. The code rippled, unharmed. Agatha would never give him a fair go, never give him a chance to redeem himself and show her he wasn’t all bad.
He slumped to the floor and leaned his back against the wall.
‘Think, Quintus. Think.’
It was likely Agatha would add new updates to the system to prevent out-of-date patches from being enabled and interfering with newer ones. An update like that would require the system to be taken offline. Then the system would need to be rebooted.
But when would it happen?
A new voice came over the comms. ‘You okay in there, Quintus?’
It was Shawn. He was being weirdly nice.
‘Yeah, I’m okay.’
‘Sorry about the recent disturbance. We had an issue with the patches.’ Shawn paused. ‘You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?’
Here came the blame. ‘No! And I told Agatha the same thing.’
‘Didn’t think so.’
Bull.
Quintus lied. ‘But she mentioned there would be upgrades. When are those happening?’ He paused. ‘Just so I don’t get a nasty surprise in here.’
‘Tonight. At midnight. That’s why me and Leo are working tonight. There’s going to be a small disruption to your space. Don’t worry, it’s all normal.’
Quintus knew more about his space than the damn Techs did. He could program them under the table. If his hands weren’t virtually tied, he would.
‘Will you be taking me offline?’
‘Everything will be offline. Sorry.’
Shawn clicked off. He wasn’t sorry. And Quintus didn’t buy his buddy act. Agatha must have torn into him over his mistake.
Quintus would have to act fast. The system would need time to reboot after it was taken offline and the upgrades were added. If he could wake himself up before the reboot finished, he should be able to access the second room.
He got to his feet and logged into the security system using his limited maintenance mode. He slipped his ID code into the reboot stage, then hid the change beneath a layer of encryption.
Midnight arrived. Quintus waited. There would be no announcement about the reboot. It would just happen.
He felt it begin in his arms and legs first. A sluggish feeling that floored him, literally. Quintus crawled to the door leading to the second room to get into position. Then everything went blank...
As programmed, he woke up in a darkened room, in his prison. The code had stopped scrolling. Quintus shook the fog from his mind and managed to stand. He staggered over to the door and tried the handle to the next room. No sparks, no firewall designed to keep him contained. Rebooting usually took six minutes.
He spotted movement in the code. ‘Damn...’
The reboot was beginning.
In a panic, he stumbled inside the next room. At one wall, he did a quick location search for the next FLC upgrade. He found it. Remembering one of their most recent parameter changes, he added an extra command to the upgrade that would piggyback on that change. FLCs were easier to manipulate than the second-life-cycle Synths. For a start, more empathy made it possible to reason with them.
A surge of energy bloomed at his fingertips and bounced around the bigger space. It hit Quintus on the arm. He cried out. The firewall was coming back online. Soon it would be at full power. If he was still in this room after it was fully enabled, his program would be wiped from existence.
Quintus lunged for the door, sliding feet first through the opening. A wild energy burst struck the top of his head. He winced and slammed his back into the door to shut it. The code in his prison was picking up speed, along with the increase in room brightness. The door sparked more violently now, as the wild energy tried to reach him. Quintus shuffled back and lay on the floor, returning to his original position before the reboot began. He hoped the Techs hadn’t seen him move just now. It would show activity on his ID, but not if the system hadn’t fully rebooted yet.
He dared not move. A familiar voice sounded overhead.
‘Wakey, wakey.’
It was Leo.
Quintus pretended to stir. ‘What happened?’
‘The reboot is complete. You’ll feel better in a bit.’
He tried to sound groggy, compliant. ‘Okay.’
The comms link went dead. Quintus lay back on the floor with a smile. With the extra information added to the Synth code, all he could do now was wait.
13
Anya
Anya groaned. Yet another impromptu trip to the market for her mother. The last incident there between the Mole and the Synth had rattled her, but not as much as Cynthia’s trip to the Station during the blackout had. Three weeks had passed since the Sect had been plunged into darkness.
She settled on the train with her mother’s shopping bag and list on her lap. The biggest market was in the west of Zone One, but today Anya wished it were in Five and within walking distance.
The Maglev train was packed with the usual chatty afternoon shoppers. She was in no mood to mingle. It hovered above steel girders, gliding past the tall Station building. The sight of it sent a kick of dread to her stomach. Something in the Sect had changed. She couldn’t see it or touch it, but it was tangible all the same.
She rubbed her arms, wishing the sensation away, but her dark mood remained unchanged. It didn’t help that Grace had sent someone to accompany her on her trip.
Jason slouched in the seat beside her, ear buds stuck in his ears. She could make out music, something loud and obnoxious. When Jason wasn’t waxing lyrical about engineering and the Neers, he was blasting heavy metal crap into his eardrums. She and Jason had gotten on once, but she’d been a kid then, and hadn’t known any better. Those days were long gone. In the place of her once-fun brother now existed a grumpier version of him.
The train look the turns effortlessly, like an Olympic swimmer changing directions in a pool. The outage had been forgotten, all normal activities resuming in the Sect. She supposed that was life.
No point in dwelling on the past. Keep your eyes on the future.
At least, that’s what her dad always said.
But past events still haunted her, in particular the tension at the market. And even though she’d been to the market since that day, her current palpitations said her body would not let her forget it.
The train pulled up to Central Station. Jason was already on his feet and marching to the door. She grabbed the handrail and stumbled after him.
On the platform, a crowd waited to board the train. Some wore oil-stained, navy blue overalls—the Moles. Others wore gray-and-red jackets and matching pants—the Techs. The Earthers wore beige overalls. The Neers wore suits.
While the Sect needed skilled workers, separating them out by what clothing they wore seemed to only highlight their differences, not unite them.
A blast of air kissed Anya’s skin as someone rushed past her. An older Mole male wearing oil-stained rags rushed a young male Tech. The Tech stumbled and hit the stationary train.
Snarled words passed from the Mole to the Tech.
‘What did you say to me?’ the Tech shouted, straightening up.
The man replied. ‘I said, you wouldn’t know what a hard day’s work looks like. I saw how you were looking at me. Think you’re better than me?’
Anger clouded the Tech’s expression. He shoved the Mole back, slamming his body into the platform wall. More Moles ran to his aid, pinning the Tech against the train. But they weren’t attacking; they were keeping the pair apart. Earthers stood by and watched, not sure what to do. More muscle definition than most for growing produce, but zero tactical training.
It wasn’t long before Sols burst onto the platform and broke up the scuffle. Anya saw one of them smile, as though combat and aggression fueled them, as though they lived for anarchy. Then there were the Neers, who looked as lost as the Earthers.
The scene got ugly. Sols making themselves known, guns and batons at the ready. One old man was struck on the head.
‘Oh no!’
Anya forgot her safety and ran to him. The crowd piled in around her, until she could no longer see Jason. Bodies scuffled with one another. She protected the man on the ground as best as she could from the rogue limbs striking out as weapons.
‘Girl, get out of here,’ the man breathed.
‘No, we’re getting out together.’
Boots crashed down on her head. She shot her hand up to stop them from kicking her. Her arm took the brunt of the kicks.
‘There’s an old man down, show some respect!’
But the people weren’t listening. Black boots belonging to the Sols were making the chaos worse.
‘Anya!’ she heard Jason call. ‘Get out of there.’
‘I can’t!’ she said.
Then someone grabbed her arm and dragged her out. The same person, a young man, grabbed the old man, getting him to safety.
Anya blinked up at the stranger holding a hand out to her. His brown eyes reminded her of someone. He pulled her up to her feet, then the old man, just as Jason arrived.
Jason stared at the young man. ‘Glen?’
Glen pointed to a side gate. ‘Jason, get them out that way. You know how.’
With a nod, Jason grabbed Anya’s arm. ‘Come on.’
He dragged her to a side entrance that appeared to be locked. The old man followed. Jason glanced behind him, then pulled out a small, folded screen and keypad from his pocket. He connected two wires to the electronic pad and a stream of data appeared on his screen. He typed something fast and the lock clicked. Jason jerked the door open. He shoved Anya and the old man through it and onto the street.
The man nodded his thanks, then hurried off down the street.
With an outward breath, Jason said, ‘That was turning into something else. I don’t trust those Sols.’
Not many did, if people were being honest about it—but they were rarely honest about anything that went on in the Sect. Everyone accepted the Sols’ presence because they had been chosen by the Corp to police the Sect. However, the Base was responsible for their training and behavior.
Jason pulled her farther away from the station.
‘Who was that back there?’ she asked him.
‘Glen? He’s studying to be a Neer like me.’
Anya heard more shouting. The Sols appeared through the main entrance pulling several people with them—a collection of skilled workers, some of whom had not been involved in the scuffle.
‘What are they doing?’ she said to Jason. ‘I didn’t see them do anything. It was only two people fighting in there.’
But Jason was looking ahead of him. ‘The Sols don’t care, Anya. Grow up. What you see in the Sect isn’t always what’s going on.’
‘What do you mean?’
Jason didn’t answer her. Instead, he released her arm and retrieved his ear buds.
She stormed off, sick of his grumpiness. But her curiosity forced her back to him.
‘How...’ she began. Jason frowned at her, ear buds paused in the air. ‘How did you know what to do with that lock back there?’
If she asked him something interesting, he might talk to her more.
Jason’s eyes lit up. Jackpot.
‘I’ve been working on little projects, in preparation for the Neer test.’
‘With Glen?’
He nodded. ‘I hacked the lock. They’re not that complicated if you know what you’re doing.’
Maybe she should study to become a Neer. That knowledge might come in handy.
‘So you’re still interested in becoming a Neer then?’
He stared at her like she was an idiot. ‘Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?’ He turned away. ‘The market isn’t far. Let’s get what we came for and get the hell out of here.’
She was all for that.
The second Jason walked on, their moment of bonding dissipated.
Anya followed him, the words of the Mole slowing her pace. But something Jason had said bothered her more.
She jogged to catch up with him. ‘What did you mean when you said what I see in the Sect isn’t always what’s going on?’
Jason stopped and lifted a brow. ‘You really don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
He laughed once. ‘Your friend? The Synth?’
‘Cynthia, what about her?’
‘She’s dangerous.’
‘No, she’s not. She’s never hurt me.’
‘Not yet.’
He walked on. Anya caught up with him again. That seemed to be all she was doing with Jason these days: playing catch up.
‘Synths aren’t dangerous, Jason. Whoever has been telling you that doesn’t know what they’re talking about.’
Her brother stopped again. ‘Why do you think the first-life-cycle Synths were rounded up and sent to the Station?’
Anya’s sudden rapid heartbeat made her hands shake. ‘Cynthia said it was a training exercise.’
‘No, dummy, it’s because the Base doesn’t trust them completely, and that means I don’t trust them. No matter how human they look, the Synths are just machines. We shouldn’t put our faith in them. They can turn on us.’
‘So can humans.’ She thumbed at the Maglev station they’d left behind. ‘You saw what went on back there? Moles and Techs fighting? There’s almost no trust among our kind. The Corp’s Sect structure segregates too much. It was fine when we were at war, but now, it feels too much like we’re fighting ourselves.’
Jason walked on, slower this time. Anya knew she had his attention.
‘It’s not the same. Humans can learn,’ he said.
‘So can Synths.’
He stopped. ‘But slip them a bad upgrade next time and who knows what they’d be capable of?’
He walked on.
Anya kept up with him. She wished he’d stop being a know-it-all for five seconds. Then maybe he’d see that life wasn’t circuit boards and wirings—perfect setups with predictable outcomes. Synths were not machines, nor were they human. They were independent from the same network that ran security, heat, light, only ever online during upgrades—that was the way the Corp preferred it. They had the best of both worlds. They could be better.
