The Society Page 12

  “Not with what we’ve recently discovered.” I turn to look at Tina. “After your mother managed to hack into the Compound’s school system, we discovered a fatal weakness in the programming. Through the Teacher program, we can infiltrate the rest of the Compound systems and plant malware or shut them down completely. Unfortunately, due to the Society’s adaptive programming technology, we will have a limited window of time before the system is wiped and restored, likely locking us out again. Once we do this, we probably won’t be able to do it again, and the Society will almost certainly create stronger security to prevent a repeat.”

  “Won’t they have already done that, after you hacked my implant and Teacher?”

  Lily nods. “Yes, but it’s not enough of a change to prevent me from accessing the systems again.” She smiles wryly. “The Society may be made up of computers, but computers are better about quick processing, while it’s we humans” she taps her temple, “who are the innovative ones.”

  I pull one of the maps toward me and look at it. Across the top is scrawled “Compound 1.” My fingers trace the thin lines. “So you can only do this once?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you want it to be my Compound?” At her nod, I ask: “Why?”

  “Because you can give us the most up-to-date information about a Compound, and because Compound 6 has the most vulnerable location.”

  I frown at her. “What does that mean?”

  Lily shuffles through the maps until she finds a specific one, then she pulls it out of the pile and places it on top. The map depicts a giant city, which, if the scale along the bottom is to be believed, encompasses nearly a hundred miles in diameter. She points to an area which is circled in red. “This is Compound 6.” Her finger moves to a nearby section of the city, which is less detailed than the others. In thick, black letters printed over the section, it reads: “Dead Zone.”

  “This is where we are now. This is an old section of the city, which the Society abandoned in favor of new buildings and higher-tech areas.” She moves her finger again, to a dotted line which seems to cut through several buildings and spans nearly half the width of the city. “This tunnel, which used to be for underground trains, is now an auto-car route.” She points to a small, red X that blocks off another tunnel which runs away at an angle. “This tunnel leads to the Dead Zone, and has been marked as impassable for nearly two decades.”

  As she shows me, I can already see how it all connects. The tunnel road begins within a mile of the Compound, and that’s how they get back home. Odd...I don’t remember going through a tunnel on the way here. Or maybe they were just well-lit enough for me to think we were still outside. Maybe they take a different route altogether when rescuing people bound for the Process.

  I spread my hands on the table. “What do you need from me?”

  Lily tilts her head at Rob, who pulls out a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. “We need you to describe the Compound, and Rob will draw it. Don’t worry, he’s good at interpreting descriptions.”

  “I can do one better.” I reach out for the paper and pencil, and at Lily’s shrug, Rob hands them to me. My hands fly over the paper, quick and sure as they sketch out the place where I’ve spent all but the last week of my life. I walked these corridors and sat at these tables every day, if I can’t manage to draw them accurately, then all of my talent has been for nothing.

  Within a few moments, the Compound takes shape. There are gaps in my knowledge, and these areas are left blank. I draw the square of the exercise yard surrounded by the circular arms of the corridors with the now-unused nursery at one end and the infirmary at the other. I add in the mess hall and the atrium I so recently saw when the security HAs dragged me to the headmistress’s office. I even add in tiny versions of all the furniture, and put a tiny X for the location of every camera or microphone I know, as well as what I believe to be their line of sight.

  By the time I’m finished, all of the council members are looking at me in something akin to awe. Lily gives me the first true smile I’ve seen from her, and Tina actually throws back her head and laughs. “The girl is definitely your daughter, Lily.”

  Lily runs her hands over the map, then looks up at me. “This is perfect, Alyss. With this, we just might have a chance. We’ll need you to come to the Hill at some point to make sure we get it right, but we have time for that later.”

  She enters into a conversation with Rob and Tina, one far too technical for me to understand. I look over at Zhen, who has so far been silent. He sits with his elbows on the table and his index fingers steepled and pressed against his lips. “What is it?” I ask, when I see he’s not as happy as the others.

  Zhen lowers his hands and crosses his arms as he leans back in his chair. “Where the others see victory, I see lives lost.” Sadness in his eyes echoes what I saw in El’s last night. “I see my son running into a building where I cannot follow nor protect him. A building from which he may never return, if the Society has their way. If this mission succeeds, we will save five lives. If it fails...we will lose many more.”

  I sit in silence and watch the three other adults lean over the map, discussing various points of it in hushed tones. “The alternative is just as unthinkable.”

  Beside me, Zhen sighs. “I know. Child, I’ve spent more years fighting the Society than you’ve been alive. I witnessed the very first HAs being created, and watched as the exciting ‘new thing’ became a strong suggestion by the government, and then when those who didn’t conform started meeting mysterious ends. I have watched this city go from a thriving metropolis to a mass grave teeming with ghosts in the form of computers that bear the faces of those we once loved. Trust me, I know the cost.”

  “I’m sorry.” And I am. I have grown up in The Society, effectively imprisoned within it, but it’s all I’ve ever known. This old man has lived much longer. He’s watched the decline of his city from living to lifeless. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” It’s still hard to wrap my mind around the concept that I really am living in a city full of computers, a city with only a few humans left.

  After growing up thinking of them as just humans in android bodies, it’s still difficult to comprehend the genocide that the Society has wreaked upon its own people. I don’t understand why they still bother. Is it some old directive that tells them androids must be made using human brain patterns? Is it a need to appear legitimate to the few humans who remain? Or are they somehow incapable of creating new androids without an actual person to use as a blueprint?

  So many questions, and from the fervor in the faces and voices of the council members, I suspect it will be quite a while before their obsession with this mission wanes enough for me to seek answers. That’s assuming they even know.

  When Lily finally looks up at me, her face radiates determination. “Thank you, Alyss. You have given us a good starting point. I will contact you again if there’s any other way you can help.”

  For a moment I sit and stare at her in silence, inexplicably hurt by her words. She’s my mother, but she seems perfectly content to use me for my knowledge, then tell me to run along until I’m needed again.

  Resentment flares anew in my chest as I push my chair back from the table and stand. I avoid Zhen’s gaze, and none of the other adults pay me any attention as I stride to the door and pull it open.

  Chapter 10: The Plot Twist

  I spend the rest of the morning in the basement, following around after Ted, the ancient man who is in charge of the gardens. I’ve since discovered there are twelve large hydroponics tanks, all with high-efficiency grow lights hung above them. The wall to the right of the stairs is another odd sort of growing arrangement. The rebels have dug out the concrete, which surrounds the gigantic space until they reached dirt, then rigged up this frame which allows them to grow vegetables and herbs in the vertical space.

  Water pipes come from above, and I’m told the entire roof has been coated with a variation of the same Sol-con skin the
androids use, as well as turned into a large rain-collection device. Pumps reaching deep underground provide more water, but the power needed to run these is high. Because of this risk, they are only used if rain is scarce for too long.

  The entire system is an engineering marvel. I don’t know who created it all, or if it was more than one person. But the more I learn about the rebels’ base of operations, the more I admire their intelligence and ingenuity. They have found ways to supply themselves with almost everything they need, while still remaining invisible to the Society.

  Yet, even as I wander through the community and look on it all in wonder, I can’t help seeing how the entire operation balances on a knife’s edge. One step in the wrong direction, a few kilowatts too many used, or a person on the roof at the wrong time, or even a particularly strong storm...and it could all come crashing down. The Society’s drones rarely patrol this area of the city, but if one was to see a rebel member outside...all would be lost. All it would take is one misstep, and all of these happy, thriving people would be in danger of paying the ultimate price.

  When the lunch bell rings, I load my plate with a meal and a half worth of food and make my way to the corner where El sat with me the day I met my mother. It’s become sort of our spot, a place where we can talk without being overheard by everyone else. Sometimes he joins me, and sometimes I join him with his friends. Even after a week, there are times I still need the solitude and the feel of solid concrete against my back to keep me sane among the chaos. They’re good people. They’re just rather loud.

  This time, El must have decided to join me, because I look up to see him heading toward me with a tray full of food. He looks even worse than he did last night. The bruise on his face has deepened and his limp is more pronounced. When he lowers himself to the floor, he grimaces and lets out a small groan.

  “What the hell happened to you last night?” I’ve picked up some of the more colorful expressions of the people around me, even though I have no idea what most of them mean. El frowns at me. I know he doesn’t like me using words I don’t understand, because it’s resulted in several awkward situations. At least I know this one well enough to understand it’s an expletive intended to express shock or surprise.

  “I told you, I’m fine.”

  “People who are fine don’t have eyes that turn unnatural colors.”

  He looks caught off guard by my retort, and actually manages a grin. “I think I like Alyss who talks.”

  I just squint at him in an expression meant to be intimidating.

  Finally, El sighs. “Okay, fine. What do you want to hear? That we were detected too soon and got beat up by the security HAs? That I got knocked out with a tase-gun and would have been hauled off to a processing center if I hadn’t rolled under their van and they couldn’t find me? That the rest of the crew had to fight them off until I regained consciousness and could crawl out and we could all flee with our tails between our legs?”

  “Tails?”

  He waves a hand dismissively. “Nevermind. But seriously, is that what you wanted to hear? That we got our butts handed to us, and the kid we were supposed to rescue was still on that van, and is now dead?”

  “I want to hear the truth, even if it isn’t pleasant.” I stare at the salad on my plate for a long moment. When I finally get the courage to say the words which press against my lips, I find El watching me. “I’ve had a lifetime of lies wrapped in pretty packages. Those lies nearly killed me. I would rather have ugly truths, like the ones which saved me, than poisonous falsehoods encased in veneers of beauty.”

  El stares at me with awe in his eyes and I feel heat rush to my face. I drop my gaze and pick at my salad with my fork. The young man beside me lets out a low whistle.

  “Damn. Did I say I like the Alyss who talks? By ‘like,’ I meant she’s pretty freaking amazing.”

  I have no idea how to respond to this, so I just say: “I’m glad they didn’t take you to a processing center.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad too.”

  I don’t like the awkward silence which descends over us after that, but I don’t know how to break it. As soon as El’s food is gone, he gets to his feet and walks off without a word.

  ***

  “What are you drawing?” The childish voice comes from my left, and I look up from my notepad to see the little girl peering at it with curiosity in her eyes.

  I lift up a corner of the paper so she can see. She clambers into the chair on the opposite side of the little round table, and stands there on her knees with her elbows on the tabletop. “Ooh. Can you teach me how to make one?”

  “It takes lots of practice.” I return to sketching out the veins and wrinkles on the nearest tomato plant, but a little whimper makes me return my attention to the girl. “What?”

  She pushes her lip down in a pout. After a moment of frowning at her in bemusement, I sigh and flip the page over. I rip a fresh sheet from the spiral binding and push it toward her, along with my pencil. “You just gotta promise me you won’t cry if it doesn’t look like mine. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She nods her head, agreeing perhaps a little too readily, then bends over the paper and scribbles furiously. Her straight brown hair and her pale skin remind me of Kara.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

  She shakes her head, attention still on the paper. “Nope. It’s Saturday.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  The girl looks up at me and laughs. “It’s Saturday. The weekend. We don’t do school on weekends.” Her little eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you know what a weekend is?”

  “We….we didn’t have weekends in the Compound. We did school every day.”

  Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I think I’d die if I had to do school every day.” She sits up, squints at the paper, then slides it back to me. On the white surface is a crude drawing of a person with long hair down to her elbows and a weird little squiggle on one side of her neck. I raise my eyebrows at her, and she sighs. “It’s you!”

  “Oh.” I run my fingers along the markings on my neck. Are they that obvious? “Thank you. It’s very nice.”

  “My mommy says you don’t know how to live with people and we have to teach you.”

  What? “Um, who’s your mommy?”

  “She’s the doctor lady who takes care of the hurt people.” I was right--this is Kara’s daughter. “Her name’s Kara, and my name’s Lara.” She giggles. “We match! Do you and your mommy match?”

  Lily. Beyond our genetics, we seem to share absolutely nothing. “No, not really.”

  Lara purses her lips and shakes her head. “That’s no fun. Your mommy should have made you match, so your names could sound the same.” With that childish proclamation, she jumps down from the chair and runs off, her hair swinging wildly behind her. I watch her go, amazed by the matter-of-fact mingled wisdom and innocence all the children seemed to have. They know so little, yet have endless confidence in their own skills and knowledge. Maybe that’s the secret...the less we know, the less we’re aware of our own ignorance.

  I pull the sheet of paper over and tuck it inside the back of the notepad, then flip back to the tomato leaf and resume my sketch. Lara joins several other children who are screaming and laughing as they play some game that seems to involve more more noise than it does sense or rules. A small group of women sit around a table near the wall, their watchful eyes glued to the children even as they converse with each other.

  Boom. I gasp as the building shakes with such force I can feel it through the floor.

  Boom. Another shudder, and the screams of laughter have turned to shrieks of fear as the sound rumbles through the concrete.

  Boom. This shake is the largest of all, and the people around me are just a few degrees short of panic. Mothers gather up their children and run for the stairs. My heart leaps into my throat as yet another impact resounds, this one loud enough to knock bits of concrete and dust from the ceiling.


  Boom. Boom. BOOM. I don’t have time to think or feel as I grab my paper and take off for the stairs. The building shivers around me and my ears echo with the sound of cracking stone. I run as fast as my feet will carry me, quickly gaining on the group of mothers and children.

  Boom. The ground bucks and nearly throws me from my feet. Up ahead, Lara is at the back of the group and she falls to the ground with a cry. None of the women seem to see her, so I drop my notepad and pull her shuddering little body into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her sweaty face against the scar on my neck.

  Boom. Behind me there is a thunderous crash, and I redouble my speed. A woman holds the door to the stairs open as she herds everyone else through. Her eyes meet mine and I see the blind fear written there.