Authors: Simone Pond
“It’s worth a lot. We could get something decent to get up north.” She handed the sword to Missakian.
“We might be able to get it on the way back down,” he said, but even as he said it they both knew that wasn’t going to happen. They’d be lucky if any of them made it back down.
“Go on; we’ll be waiting right here.” Grace nudged them along so they wouldn’t see the tears filling in her eyes. Marion patted her shoulder, knowing the significance of giving up her prized possession. “It’s for my mom,” she said.
Grace and Marion stood next to the opening of the tunnel, looking out into the grim streets where Missakian and Blythe were bartering for transportation. Grace was shocked to see young kids in rags wandering aimlessly through the filthy streets, digging through trash bins and drinking from strange colored bottles. She had never seen anything so pathetic—didn’t they have homes, or parents? She felt an unexpected desire to get them off the streets and clean them up.
“This is depressing,” she said.
“What’s with the bottles?” Marion asked.
“Probably drugs.”
“Look; one of the little scrapper’s making her way over here. What should we do?” Marion stepped in front of Grace to protect her.
The young girl had long scraggly hair and looked to be about ten years old, but the closer she got the older she looked—as if she had been ridden hard and put away wet. Probably had seen a lot for her age. Grace bristled, sensing something was about to go down, but she smiled pleasantly at the girl. Marion held up her slingshot, ready to take a shot if things got too sketchy. Grace, now weaponless, edged back a few feet and prepared for her next move.
“Whaddya want, kid?” Marion asked.
Just as Grace finished rustling around in her survival bag, she caught a glimpse of the broken bottle in the young girl’s hand tucked behind her back. She also noticed a few more of the little street urchins circling the entrance, not doing a very good job at being discreet. Before Marion said anything else, Grace came out of the shadows and dropped the bag in front of the girl.
“We don’t have much. Just some clothes and first-aid supplies. A few airtight meals. They’re yours, if you want them. We don’t want any trouble.”
Marion started to reach for the bag to stop the transaction, but Grace grabbed her wrist and shook her head, motioning toward the bottle behind the girl’s back. The girl reached down and hoisted the bag over her puny shoulder and walked backward, holding out the broken bottle to keep them at a distance. She edged backward until she was out on the street, then she turned and ran toward a dilapidated building she was no doubt squatting in.
“Now what are we supposed to do? We have no food or supplies.” Marion stared out toward the building.
“And you thought that was worth getting stabbed over?”
“I would have crushed her skull before she had the chance.”
“She wasn’t alone. Who knows how many of them were out there. Besides, I removed our supplies and my tablet before I gave her the bag. She just ran off with a clean jumpsuit and a blanket.”
Marion slapped Grace’s shoulder and laughed. “Nice work, Gracie. Should never have doubted you.”
They picked up the packets of food and supplies from the ground and shoved everything into Marion’s small pack. Anything that didn’t fit went into their pockets. They decided to hang back in the reeking darkness, out of view, until Blythe and Missakian returned with a vehicle.
18
IN THE ROYAL Palace chambers, Ava sat in the lounger and gazed at the colorful spectrums beaming from the collection of chandeliers. It seemed as though hours had passed, and still there was no sign of Morray. The gown was starting to itch; not just her body, but also her soul. A servant had poured a fresh glass of champagne and she watched the sparkling bubbles as they got trapped along the rim. She was starting to feel like those bubbles. It was time to call the bull into the ring. She picked up the glass of champagne and smashed it to the marble floor. The sugary-sweet scent filled the air and sickened her.
“All right Morray, you win. You can come out now.”
After a few moments, the crystal doors slid open and Morray entered. He was the same striking man from her days inside the Los Angeles City Center—chiseled jawline, glacial gray eyes, and not a strand of his thick, dark hair out of place. He wore his standard impeccable black suit. This was the same man she had witnessed get shot down on Graduation Day sixteen years ago.
He walked toward Ava, his broad shoulders back and head held high. “Miss Rhodes.” He smiled, gently grazing her cheek with the touch of his fingers. “Looking most exquisite, I must say.”
“And you’re looking quite handsome.” She curtsied to mock him. “For a dead man.”
He smoothed the front of his black suit. “This was always my favorite shell. I’ve had many, but something about this skin feels right.”
“I’m impressed at the level of detail you’ve been able to conjure up in this program. Or should I say Dickson? He’s always been the true genius behind your empire. You had me going at first. I thought maybe I really was back there, as though no time had passed.”
“And what makes you think otherwise?”
“I know enough about the mainframe to discern what’s real and what isn’t. And this isn’t. It’s a program. I don’t know how Dickson did it, but it’s good. Really good.” She wondered how long Dickson had been working on the coding. She also wondered why he hadn’t made an appearance yet.
“I’m pleased that you’re pleased,” Morray said.
“So, where exactly are we?” she asked.
“A holding room of sorts.”
“No—I mean, where is my physical body?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“And what’s your plan? You’ve got me trapped inside the mainframe. What’s the endgame, Morray? To keep me locked inside this program indefinitely?”
With a wide grin he offered her a new glass of champagne, which she refused. He sipped and smiled with pleasure, as though he were actually drinking it.
“I’ll find a way out,” she said.
“Oh, I’m quite sure you’ll try.” Morray walked over to the windows, observing the last rays of sunlight filtering through the basin.
“What do you want?” Ava asked.
“I want you to go into my archive files and get my son.”
“I knew this was about Phoenix,” she said.
“It’s always been about Phoenix. I want you to bring him back to where he belongs.”
“That’s impossible.”
“We’ve made it possible.”
“Why don’t you go back and do it yourself? Why do you need me?”
“We’ve tried, Dickson and I, for years. Unfortunately, we can only observe the files. We are still working on how to fully interact with the files.”
“But Phoenix only exists in coding. How can I get him back?”
“We’ve managed to grow in our body banks a new biological version of Phoenix, but I need you to go back and extract his identity matrix so I can recreate him in the real world. A resurrection from the dead, if you will.”
Ava thought about that first day at the academy and how she was able to go back to the village three hundred years earlier and interact with the coding, the same way Grace had done during tryouts. But after her imposed probation period had ended, she was no longer able to engage. Something had changed inside the mainframe, and she could only observe the files.
“What makes you think I can?” she asked.
“You already have. I know you went back and had a conversation with Lillian.”
“That was a fluke,” she said.
“No, it wasn’t. The program wasn’t entirely finished, and there were some glitches that needed to be worked out. Dickson took it offline for a couple of weeks. But it’s ready now, and you’re here, so I say we make the most of this fortunate situation.”
“What makes you think I’d even consider helping you?”
He moved away from the window and approached Ava. He grinned wickedly as he stroked her arm. “I have an infallible insurance policy.”
Ava’s heart tightened. There was only one thing Morray could use as leverage to get her on board with his plan—Grace.
He had the advantage, knowing Ava would do anything to keep Grace safe. She wanted to slap the smugness right off of his face. But she needed to remain calm and play along—at least until she found a loophole out of the program. There was still one trump card she held—his obsession with her. Moving closer toward him, with bile burning in her throat, Ava conjured up her best acting skills. She flirtatiously touched the arm of his jacket. “Why not just write a program and live inside of that? That way you can control all of it—everything.”
“What’s the fun in that?” He took her hand and held it in his crushing grip, then brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers.
Her nerves cringed, but on the surface she stayed cool and alluring. She reached for his glass of champagne and took a small sip. The bubbles tickled her nose. She couldn’t believe how real everything felt—the programming was flawless. Dickson had really outdone himself.
“What’s the point?” she asked. “It won’t change what really happened.”
“I want my son back.” Morray grabbed her arm and bore into her eyes. “I want you to go back and get to him before my men do. Then we can start over.” He touched her cheek.
“We?” Ava laughed and laughed, though she found nothing about this humorous. “I’m not sticking around.”
“If you want your daughter to live, you will.”
Ava paused and collected herself. The slightest miscalculation could affect her daughter’s fate. “What if I can’t extract him?”
“Dickson will make sure you can.”
“Let’s say I pull this off. You really expect me to live with you, Morray? I won’t.”
“Seems as though you’ve already been doing just that all these years. Only, this time it won’t be in my archive files. It will be real and indefinite.”
Ava was getting sicker by the minute. “If I can control the coding inside the mainframe, why wouldn’t I just reprogram it and escape?”
Morray smiled. “Always the determined beauty, you are. Dickson has firewalls, and as I mentioned, I have my insurance policy.”
She thought about the boy Morray had been before he became the monster. Was there anything good remaining? He had lived so many lives, and time after time he chose the darkness. Breeding humans. Giving continuous life to his group of evil elites. Conducting tests at Ret-Hav on countless innocent victims. Terminating lives. Morray was devious and he had a deep-seated desire to control everyone and everything. Given the opportunity to start fresh, he’d probably do everything the exact same way.
For the moment, Ava felt like a fox caught in a snare, but she had no doubt she’d find a work-around to outsmart Morray and Dickson. She’d come up with an exit strategy. For now, she’d falsely concede to his plan.
“Fine, Morray. You got me.”
A genuine look of relief settled over his face, and he took her hands into his. “You belong with me, Ava. You always have.” He bent down and kissed her neck. “I created you, and you are mine.”
“Never,” she whispered.
“Never say never.” His breath warmed her ear, or what felt like her ear. He took her hands and held her closely, stroking her long auburn hair, or what felt like her hair.
Her synapses began crashing into one another, and she shoved him away. “Never,” she shouted.
Morray grabbed her and dragged her over to the enormous canopy bed. She tried digging her heels into the floor, but it was no use. He shoved her onto the bed and pinned her down. She squirmed under him, but the long gown cocooned around her. He held her face and pressed his lips against hers until she could taste blood. The pain was unbearable. She wriggled around, but couldn’t get her legs free.
“Fighting will only make it worse.”
“You make me sick . . .” She elbowed him in the ribs, then his jaw. He rolled to the side, and she pounded his chest repeatedly.
He laughed and grabbed her wrists. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He yanked her down and kissed her neck . . . her face . . . her lips.
“Never. Never. Never!” she screamed, twisting herself away. She used the sharp point of her shoe to rip through the chiffon gown, and yanking her leg free, she kicked Morray in his kidneys a few times until he was gasping for air. “Try something like that again, and I won’t help you. That means both your son and my daughter will die by your filthy hand.”
He stood up and smoothed back his hair and adjusted his suit. “Stubborn then, stubborn now.”
“It’s not a matter of stubbornness, but principle. You can never have me, Morray. I’ve fought too hard for my freedom.”
“Remember: it always comes with a price.”
He stormed toward the door, leaving Ava alone on the bed. Tears of frustration burned down her cheeks, or what felt like her cheeks. She ran to the windows, pounding the glass with her fists, or what felt like her fists.
19
AFTER MORRAY LEFT the chambers, Ava showered. She scrubbed herself down until every ounce of makeup and glitter enhancement had been rinsed away. She pulled her hair back and went to the wardrobe where she found a pair of camouflage pants, a gray sweater, and black combat boots. Much more her style. As she finished tying up her boots, the door slid open and revealed a suited guard standing at attention.
“Miss Rhodes,” he said.
Ava wished they’d stop calling her that. She had been Mrs. Strader for a long time now. Hearing her old name brought up past memories, the way a song does when it hasn’t been played in a while.
“I’m ready,” she told the guard.
The tall man nodded and escorted her down the corridor toward Morray’s wing of the Royal Palace. She hadn’t seen the interior of this place in years, but the program captured every detail—down to the flecks in marble tile and ornate molding. She passed by the same alcove where Joseph had pulled her aside just before the Graduation ceremony many years ago. That’s where he had kissed her and inconspicuously transferred the microchip containing footage of Ret-Hav. That footage revealed the truth and opened the eyes of the city center residents, which precipitated the revolt. The uprising freed thousands of people from Morray’s prison and changed the world forever. She knew this time around Morray wouldn’t be so easily duped. He knew exactly what he was doing. Dickson would have a tight network security and code-blockers set up within the architecture of the program. Getting out would require some serious calculating.