Amira moved quietly down the narrow passageway, her robes whispering around her. The Nest had been a revelation to her as it had been to the rest of them—Reggie, Sig, and April.
Tucked beneath the city, woven amongst the ductwork, piping, and conduits, Skip, along with the friends, had somehow arranged a complex of rooms and hallways that provided places to live, while managing to be secure at the same time. That there was so much space beneath the streets was extraordinary, but combining that with the availability of resources—electricity, network, water, and heat—it made a nearly perfect place to be.
And, of course, there was the Nest itself. Suspended in a spanning plenum space, accessible by a catwalk, it was an extraordinary concentration of technology and connectedness with the outside world. Amira had only been allowed to see the place once on the initial tour, but she knew, had heard, about Madox, Skip's online presence.
As yet, she chose to keep her abilities with technology—computers, from the others. She was afraid of the questions it would bring up, things she would never be able to answer because she refused to lie. To the others, she was a refugee like them, and they were kind enough to help her. She would have to lend her skills soon enough—she felt like a burden, and even though no one was saying it, things were too precarious to support anyone who wasn't necessary. Besides, she wanted to help, and she was pretty sure Skip—Madox as she knew him—was on to her. It was nearly impossible to keep her guard up around the clock, and in one of their late-night discussions as they were all drifting off to sleep, she was certain Skip had been probing her for information. Despite how he looked, he was very clever—she was confident he could see behind her words—or she was paranoid.
Either way, the time of trying to remain neutral in this fight was long past. The bots were programmed machines following a series of protocols, running routines, working towards objectives. The twist of every gear, every pulse of energy, was done under the directive of the Corporation. So much blood, so many lives lost. This wasn't a system rebalancing itself but a virus destroying its host. She had been so wrong to be part of that effort—she would spend the rest of her life paying for it. But she wasn't ready to share that, not yet. The others would surely turn her away if they knew—she would if it were her. On her own, repaying her debt would be much more difficult.
Or, was it because she was a parasite clinging to her only chance of survival? Was there any way to ever offset the damage she'd done? Unknowable questions, waiting to terrorize her during the long sleepless nights when the darkness plunged her into the unending void.
Ahead was one of the heavy steel doors that led to the tunnels beyond. She needed to get to her machine. It had been too long already; she could feel the poison building in her veins, the fatigue in her bones no amount of sleep could ward off. She had chanced going out once already. The group forbade this, of course, but what choice did she have? Of course, they didn't know about her condition—another of her secrets.
She turned the deadbolt and slowly drew open the door. The passageway beyond was dark and silent.
