“Liana Castell.”
I paused and looked straight ahead, my eyes tracking up to see the spectral image of a holograph seated in a spot identical to Strum’s, the mark of Scipio emblazoned just under him. It was my first time meeting the master AI, and I was surprised to see that his image bore a striking resemblance to Leo’s. Only more detailed and, well, lifelike.
When I first met Leo, buried deep in Lionel Scipio’s hidden office, he had emitted an aura that was almost too bright to allow for any details. But this projection was different, and hyper-detailed. Scipio’s inky black hair was combed back and gathered at the nape of his neck in a tie. Blue eyes that had glowed white in the office watched me as I stopped and made a passable bow. I didn’t want to, but it seemed… appropriate, given the lies I was about to tell.
“Lord Scipio,” I said in greeting, pulling my eyes from him to the floor. “Esteemed members of the council.”
It was all I could do to force the words out, but somehow I managed. And hey, my voice didn’t sound at all like I was on the verge of wetting myself, so a point to me. Still, I could feel the weight of Scipio’s eyes burning into me, and I was certain that he could see through the charade we were perpetrating.
“Please step onto the dais so we can get this over with,” came the stiff feminine voice of Sadie Monroe, and I straightened, twisting up and around until I could see her. She was just to the right of Scipio, and wasn’t at all what I expected. Then again, her election to the position had occurred around the time my ranking had dropped from a six to a five, and I had paid little attention to the series of debates that were recorded and transmitted to every citizen. I had been too preoccupied trying to drag up my rank.
Dark auburn hair spilled in tight curls around a heart-shaped face with skin so fair and pale I was momentarily startled by how unblemished it was. She was beautiful, yet there was a hardness about her that made me wary.
Especially with those dark blue eyes, so strange a hue that they almost seemed violet.
I gaped at her for a second, and then nodded, intimidated to hell and back at the coldness and open disdain there.
Next to me, Leo had straightened as well, but his gaze was on Scipio, his eyes wide and staring with open curiosity at the thing that had been built partially from him.
I could only imagine what he must be feeling in that moment. Especially after all we had learned. Legacy groups, like Lacey and Strum’s, had been attacking Scipio since the beginning of the Tower, unable to accept his role in shaping humanity’s destiny. Each generation would make headway and then pass their skills and knowledge down to the next, and on and on, so that one day, generations later, people like me and my friends would be used by one side or the other in a war that, as far as I could tell, was only destroying the Tower.
The thought filled me with anger, and I used it to add steel to my spine. This was the only way forward—the only way for us to survive this clearly corrupted system.
I looked at Leo and realized he was still staring at Scipio, and had been for long enough now that I was certain someone was going to ask what his problem was. He was clearly shocked and fascinated by the holographic projection, and if he continued, it was liable to draw attention. I wasn’t sure if Scipio had a way of scanning him that would reveal the net—but I did know that the only way to prevent that was to act like nothing was amiss.
I reached out and touched his shoulder, breaking his attention, and he looked at me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said carefully, and he nodded once, visibly relaxing some.
I moved onto the dais, my boots thudding against the solid chunk of wood. Leo stepped up beside me, and I looked around the room. Strum, Lacey, and now Sadie, I knew. But this was my first time seeing Head Farmer Plancett and Chief Surgeon Sage.
Head Farmer Plancett had dark, swarthy skin, a deep black beard, and black hair that hung wild and shaggy around his head. His green coveralls were not dressed up in any way, and he had streaks of dirt and grime on his arms and hands. He watched us with hooded eyes.
Chief Surgeon Sage was the oldest member of the council at nearly a hundred and twenty years of age. Although he didn’t look any older than seventy, certain signs of his age were apparent, from the slight tremor in his limbs to the thick spectacles placed over his eyes. He certainly wasn’t practicing medicine anymore, but he didn’t need to, either. His expertise was what made him Chief Surgeon, not his physical abilities.
In truth, I figured even the Medics were perplexed at why the man had lived so long, his aging process clearly moving slower than that of everyone around him. Rumor was they’d gone over his genes with a fine-toothed comb, and found no genetic anomalies, not even dormant ones. Quess had mentioned once that there was even a prize for anyone who could crack his genome for the secret to his prolonged life. One that offered instant promotion to his personal staff, and unlimited prestige.
The man watched with twinkling blue eyes and a crooked grin on his face, as if he knew some secret joke that the rest of us did not.
I turned my gaze from him to the only empty seat—the one where Devon would’ve been were he still alive. Lieutenant Zale was absent, thankfully. I was sure that if he were there, I wouldn’t have made it across the floor before he came down to finish the job Devon had started.
My fingers twitched to touch my neck again, but I resisted and looked around the room, carefully putting my words into what I hoped was a formal and earnest, yet confident, tone.
“First, I want to thank you for meeting with us. I understand that some of my actions in recent weeks must have caused you great fear, and I apologize for my role in the situation, but you must understand that what I did was necessary.”
“Necessary?” Sadie spat, leaning forward and peering down at us with penetrating eyes. “It was necessary for you to break that man out of the Citadel—a known criminal, I might add—and then run amok inside the Medica, and the Core, before killing the Champion of the Knights? Please excuse me if I’m having a hard time with that story.”
I stared at her, doing everything possible to keep myself calm. “Perhaps if you’d let me tell you more about what happened, you’ll have an easier time understanding,” I said carefully.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and then waved a dismissive hand, gesturing for me to proceed.
“Some time ago—I’d have to think carefully to recall the exact date—I was with my mentor, Gerome Nobilis, when Scipio contacted me directly with a mission.” I paused theatrically and turned slightly, so I could look at the councilors behind me. “To uncover Devon Alexander’s plan to subvert the master Scipio AI.”
Silence met my statement, followed by: “That’s not possible.”
I turned toward Sadie. “Apparently it is, and it has happened. I was as shocked as you when I found out, but here I am, telling you that this was what I uncovered during my investigation into Devon Alexander.”
I recited the points Lacey and Strum had given me, explaining that Devon Alexander had managed to force Scipio to vote with him on the resolution to execute ones, instead of restructuring them, as the procedure had been in the past. I told them about how Grey became my point of contact to meet Roark, and through him, Cali. In this narrative, however, Cali had possessed evidence of what Devon had done—evidence that I needed. I had been in the process of arranging a meeting when Gerome arrived. He revealed that the Champion ordered him to watch me, and after we subdued him, I realized Devon was onto me—and ran.
“Later, when I found out Gerome had been killed and myself and Grey framed for the crime, I realized that Devon was using his position to paint me as the villain. Even though I was acting on Scipio’s behalf.”
I went on to explain that I had insisted that we still meet with Cali. From there, she had shown me the evidence that proved Devon had influenced Scipio’s vote that day during the council.
“Then I learned that the laws regarding ranks had changed once again, and that somehow, my fri
ends had gotten caught up in it. But it was a trap; Devon used my friends to try to lure me into a confrontation, and silence me altogether. I escaped, but he tracked me down, killed Cali and Roark, and then destroyed the evidence. After that, I felt I had no choice. Devon’s guilt was proven, but as an enemy of the Tower, I knew my words would carry no weight. I had no other options. I was honor bound to act, to protect Scipio, and through him, the Tower.”
They listened as I wove the story, telling them how we fled. I maintained an appropriate level of embarrassment as I explained our attack on the Core, to steal clean nets so we could hide from Devon, rationalized as a girl trying to fulfill her duty to Scipio, a girl who didn’t know whom to trust or how to avoid Devon long enough to even report the information to anyone in the council.
Lacey and Strum had done a good job with the story, making my exploits around the Tower look heroic, if a little naïve. It was eerie how much they knew, and I had plans to ask them about it. The part about Cali was a big question mark in my mind, as I had no idea how they’d even known about her in the first place, but the rest of it… Well, it was public knowledge that I had been in most of those places. Public opinion was that I was there as a full-blown anarchist, trying to destroy the system, and that had labeled me a criminal. But that was all based on Devon’s word. And my story openly called it into question.
Now that the council was presented with an alternative narrative, one that painted me as a desperate and unlikely hero, both struggling to survive and performing an essential service to the Tower, they were forced to reevaluate their assessment of me.
Of course, some were faster than others at making character judgments, and from the bland look of utter disbelief on Sadie’s face, I could tell she was going to be the first to launch the inquiry.
“You paint a very noble picture of yourself, Squire Castell,” she began, leaning forward on her elbows. “But your actions have thrown this entire Tower into chaos, and while I am unsurprised that you lack a certain amount of finesse, I find it very hard to believe that our great and wise Scipio would task someone as inexperienced and green as yourself with a mission against a seasoned veteran like Devon Alexander. And the fact that the so-called evidence incriminating him was destroyed before we could take a look at it? Preposterous.”
Her hands gripped the edge of the wall that also served as her table, and she shook her head at me, her face a mask of contempt. “And to try to sully Devon Alexander’s name in order to preserve yours? I find it highly suspicious.”
“Squire Castell’s story is true,” Leo said flatly. “I was there.”
“Mm-hm. And how was it that you two were able to break into one of the most secure levels of the Core? Neither you, nor those two friends you fled the Medica with the first time, have any skills in coding. But you got into the Core, which means someone hacked the system. So who helped you? Where is the girl my Inquisitors captured during your escape? According to the tests, that girl was not Zoe Elphesian, so who was she? Her blood tells us Devon was her father and Cali was her mother, so how do we know you weren’t part of a plot started by Cali to murder Devon for getting her pregnant and refusing to marry her?”
“If you’d ever met Cali Kerrin, then you wouldn’t consider her capable of such an action,” Sage said, his voice a wet rattle. “She had more honor and integrity than anyone in this Tower. Murder was not her way.”
“Then maybe it was her daughter! She was raised outside the system—a true undoc, for all those not paying attention. How many others are there down there? How many did Cali steal from the Tower—and how many is Ms. Castell now protecting? And for what reasons?”
Eyes returned to me, and I shifted. Lacey and Strum’s notes hadn’t addressed questions of that nature, so I needed to think of something—and quickly—before I looked guilty of anything.
“Cali was taking care of several individuals when I met her,” I admitted. “And yes, in their grief over losing Cali, they wanted justice. So, I took their help. But I promised them that in exchange I would not reveal who they were to the council, and I’ll honor that promise. I know they are a threat to the Tower, but…” I trailed off and fidgeted, trying to look appropriately torn up over this imaginary decision I’d made. “I honestly didn’t know what else I could do at the time. I needed their expertise, and they had skills I could use. They had resources, and food, and most importantly, they were willing to aid me. So, I will honor their request, and keep their number, and their identities, a secret.”
I didn’t care if they bought it. I had no intention of revealing the identities of my friends. Nobody needed to know about them. The fewer people who knew, the safer they were.
“That’s not good enough, Squire Castell. You come in here with your boyfriend and some story about how you and your friends, an unknown number of them undocs, broke into several areas around the Tower and murdered the Champion, all on the orders of Scipio? Are we just supposed to accept your word?”
“Why don’t we just ask Scipio?” Strum asked, leaning forward. Sadie turned toward him, an angry scowl on her face, but he raised his eyebrows and met her gaze head on. “I’m not your enemy, Executive Monroe, so I’ll thank you kindly to keep your ire to yourself. Squire Castell’s story is, as you say, a pretty one, but one that we can confirm very easily. At least, we can confirm her claims that this was a mission, and not an act of anarchy. Lord Scipio?”
There was a rustle of movement as everyone shifted in their seats to turn toward where Scipio was watching the proceedings unfold. He hadn’t moved, not once—just sat still as a statue, listening and watching, blue eyes glittering.
Now that he was being addressed, however, he looked up at the other councilors, and then up farther, toward the dome, growing distant and vacant. “I am downloading Liana Castell’s service file now,” he informed them. “Accessing… Ah, yes. Squire Castell is correct: I did task her with following Devon Alexander and learning his true loyalties. It seems that during one of my normal self-scans, I noticed a discrepancy, one that proved to be over twenty years old. I did an in-depth analysis, and while I had no proof, I began to suspect that Champion Alexander had played a critical part in something. But because he was the Champion, I realized that any investigation meant I would be asking a Knight to turn on his commander, and decided I couldn’t trust that Devon wouldn’t find out and attempt to do something more drastic. So I tasked Squire Castell here to do so, instead.”
He paused, frowning. “It would appear that an aspect of my code has indeed been subverted.”
My eyes widened as he spoke, my heart beating harder and harder as every word coming from the speakers continued to confirm my story. I looked at Leo, whose carefully neutral features were beginning to grow alarmed, and reached out to grab his forearm, squeezing it. We couldn’t afford to show our surprise—or any other reaction to what we were supposed to already know as the truth.
He glanced over and quickly relaxed his face, and I exhaled, but I was far from feeling at ease. The tension that had been gripping my spine had suddenly twisted, so much so that it felt like my nerves were on fire. I glanced over at Lacey and saw her smiling a small, secretive smile, her eyes already watching me, studying my reaction. I brought my brows together, and she nodded, infinitesimally, before the smile melted and horror spread across her face.
But that little nod was the only thing I needed. It was the thing I focused on as I realized that Lacey and Strum also had a way of controlling Scipio. That changed my feelings toward them drastically, because if they could do something like this, then there was no telling how much more they could do. That level of control… To falsify a memory or program his response… How were they even doing it, and what did it mean for us, for Scipio, and for the Tower? My eyes flew back to Scipio. He looked devoid of any reaction save the frown.
“Dear God,” Sadie said, her features sliding from righteous fury to absolute horror. “That’s not possible! If… If people were to learn about this…”
>
“Relax, Executive Monroe,” Scipio said, holding up a hand. “A scan of the code and the decision he affected twenty years ago shows me that it only happened the one time, and it seems that all it affected was my mood for the day. But your techs are updating my firewalls millions of times a day, so it seems likely it was a random fluke. I doubt that any such code could touch me again, although I couldn’t be sure until I questioned Devon. It’s unfortunate that he was killed—I was curious to know how he got in. In any case, it seems he got lucky and found a weak point at the right time, but was never able to replicate the results. I’ll need you and your team to go over my coding as soon as possible, but I do believe I am intact.”
He didn’t know. Or maybe he couldn’t know—I couldn’t tell. How many changes had been made to him over the years? How many lines of his code had been slowly whittled away or subverted by his enemies, until only this unaware shell remained? Stiff, expressionless, pensive… but no sign of joy or life or curiosity. Nothing like his predecessor, whose simple, inquisitive nature and attempts to be more human had drawn me into a friendship I’d never thought I’d have. The two of them were so different, so drastically different, that it was apparent to me that Scipio was now just a puppet, robbed of any aspect of the life that had once made him a marvel.