Whoever it was, they’d left very few signs of their passing. Only a single slightly smeared outline of a handprint, and oddly shaped footprints in blood that had quickly dissolved in the humidity of the room. But those were the images I wanted to look at, so I scrolled through the images they had shot, and finally found what I was looking for.
Several pictures, taken at different angles and from different distances, filled up the screen for the next thirty screens or so. By the time the image had been captured, the condensation on the pipe had already started to break the handprint down, leaving it streaked and runny. But the details were still as I remembered them: a ghostly outline of a human hand that looked like a tracing of blood rather than an actual handprint. As if the killer had only managed to get blood on the outer edges of his hand and fingers.
Which wasn’t possible, and was damnably odd. I couldn’t figure out why a handprint would look like that.
I put it aside for a moment, and cycled through to the footprint. There had been many of those at the scene, but the farther they got from the pool of blood, the more quickly they’d broken down, until we had finally lost them under the condensation coil. But those closer to the scene had managed to hold their shape and form better.
I hadn’t been able to see them as clearly in the dim lighting of the room, but the image grabs had been taken with extra light, bringing more of the details to life. The footprint was hexagon shaped, over a foot in both length and width. Inside, there was a scrolling pattern that ran from each point into the middle, making it almost look like a star.
There was something very familiar about it, now that I could see it. A niggling memory told me that I’d seen it somewhere before. In a manual. In a Knight’s manual.
I thought about it for a second, and then drew out my stylus, carefully tracing over the image and creating a 2-D copy of it with cleaner lines. I separated out my drawing and then connected to the Knight server. I was relieved to see it online; with Astrid’s revelation that there had been a security breach in the Citadel’s computers, I was worried they would shut down the network, and I’d have to look for the image manually—which would have meant a trip to the Archives. I quickly put the image in and ran a search, seeing if it could remember what I clearly couldn’t.
I put the pad down on the table and stood up to stretch, letting the search run for a moment. Checking my watch, I realized I’d been sitting there for over an hour. Everyone was still there, all engrossed in their own examinations, trying to come up with a new lead.
We needed snacks.
I moved into the kitchen, quietly selected some fruit, and quickly cut it up and chucked it into a bowl. Instead of grabbing any more bowls, I simply picked up extra cutlery and returned to the common area, placing the bowl on the table and laying the forks down next to it.
Zoe dug in first, seizing a fork and spearing an apple wedge, but within moments, everyone was eating. It felt good, taking care of them, and I picked up my pad and leaned back, happy to let them get first stab at the bowl while I checked to see if my search had turned anything up.
The screen clicked on, and I froze at the image now filling it, my mouth going dry. I had seen the image before—a long time ago, in one of my history classes. It belonged to a sentinel.
Sentinels had been developed shortly after Requiem Day, a day on which Scipio had gone offline, taking with him the machines that helped keep the Tower working by supplying power, water, and air. The blackout had lasted three days, and had cost the Tower thousands of people.
Most of them had been Knights. Once operations had resumed, it was discovered that over thirty percent of the Knights had died trying to keep order in the Tower—a significant portion of the department. The remaining Knights, many of whom were injured during Requiem Day, were unable to keep up with the workload. So the powers that be decided they needed to create a workforce capable of helping the Knights maintain order, and created the sentinels—metal automatons designed to be controlled remotely by Scipio, an extension of his might.
But the sentinels had failed disastrously. Scipio had never been able to fully sync with them for some unknown reason, and they would periodically just start doing things for no apparent reason. The Knights, IT, and the Mechanics Department had all failed to figure out what the problems were when several of the machines began to act out violently. They were deactivated shortly thereafter, and the inter-department security teams had been developed in their stead to help keep the peace.
According to history, the sentinels had been melted down and recycled. But staring at the picture of the design of its foot, I realized that not all of them had.
And one of them might have Tian, right at this very moment.
10
I quickly spun my pad around in my hands and showed my friends. “I’ve got something, guys,” I said.
They all looked up, and Quess reached out and snatched the pad from my fingertips, excitement burning in his dark blue eyes. “Whoa,” he said, his brow furrowing. “What the hell is this?”
Zoe took it next and looked up at me, her own blue eyes sharp. “A sentinel? You told me they had all been melted down.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that I wasn’t sure, but surprisingly, it was Quess who answered. “It’s against the law to melt them all down. Per the Technological Preservation Act, all innovations, no matter how unsuccessful, should be kept for future generations to study and improve upon. They have to keep at least one, but more than likely a few, in case they ever experiment with the technology again.”
I blinked. So not all of them had been destroyed. Okay, fair enough, but where was it kept? How was it being used, and who was using it? More importantly, how did we find it? I took the pad from Zoe and stared at the image of the sentinel, a dark chill running down my spine. The image in the technical manual had been expanded to fit the entire screen, but the pad wasn’t big enough to capture the finer details.
The schematics read that it was over two meters high (six feet, seven inches), and had been constructed so as to appear human. Well, humanoid, that was. Two arms and legs, a torso, and a head with eyes. The mouth was a small, rectangular slit that didn’t move, while the eyes were silver orbs with black gaps running behind them, giving them a blank, dead expression. Flexible gray and black metal fibers had been stretched along their skeletal frames, which had been designed to give them a muscular shape. Their hands looked human, but another picture showed that the edges of each hand had been raised to help them grip things around the Tower.
I handed the image over to Leo, and ran a hand through my hair. “Okay, so we all agree? The thing that killed those men and took Tian was a sentinel?”
“The design accounts for the wonky footprint,” Quess said. “And it makes sense. These things were made for combat, right?”
I nodded. “The material used to cover them is a carbon-polymer hexahedron nano-matrix. Its non-conductive, heat and cold resistant, waterproof, and wasn’t affected by radiation. The only thing that could take it down were weapons rated Class B or above.”
All Knights received batons as their official weapon, and they were ranked at Class C in terms of how lethal they were. A baton could kill, but it generally took time (unless it was placed at the back of the neck, but that was a different story). Class B weapons, however, were lethal, and reserved only for use in the most dire and urgent of circumstances. The last time they had been used was during Requiem Day.
In the Academy, we took several classes on each weapon, first to understand the science, then to learn about the devastation those weapons could produce. In our second year, we were instructed in how to fight with them using less dangerous replications. In our third year, we practiced with the weapons themselves.
“All right, so we’ll have to figure out a way to get a weapon from the armory,” Quess said, scratching his chin. “I think we can do that.”
“Okay, but how do you find the sentinel?” Eric asked. “What good is getting a we
apon that can hurt it if you can’t find it?”
Good point. I licked my lips, thinking. “Well, we could find out where the sentinels were being kept, and go down there ourselves and start investigating. Someone had to come get it. We might have to review the cameras in the area, but…”
“That’s insane,” Zoe said rising to her feet, her eyes wide. “Liana, girl, we have no idea when the sentinel was taken. You’re assuming it was within the last week or so, but it could have been anytime between when they were decommissioned and now, couldn’t it? That’s too much footage to comb through.”
“Okay, so you tell me how to find it,” I answered roughly. She did have a point, but that didn’t mean that we couldn’t at least try. It wasn’t exactly like there was a manual on how to track down a sentinel.
Nobody said anything for a long second. Then Leo slowly raised his hand. “Before we come to any conclusion, I have a question that could lead to an idea,” he declared, meeting my gaze with an apologetic one of his own. “I just read the manual entry on them, and it says that the sentinels were designed to be piloted remotely by Scipio. That would require them to be networked together, and operating at a single frequency that Scipio would have to use to exercise his control. So, my question is this: is there a way to know what that frequency is?”
“Hey, yeah!” Quess said, his excitement mounting. “Scipio would have assigned them a specific frequency so they didn’t get any interference from normal net traffic. And since it was a joint operation between IT, the Cogs, and the Knights, then that means the IT Department will have a record of what the frequency is. If we can find the record and the frequency, then all Mercury would have to do is ask the sensors to find anything active on that frequency! It’ll lead us right to it, and Tian!”
“If it has her,” I cautioned, not wanting him to get too optimistic. Not wanting to get that way myself. “For all we know, it grabbed her and then passed her on to someone else.”
“Also,” Eric interjected with a frown, “what’s your plan for when you find it? The batons are worthless against its hide, and I doubt that with the lockdown in place, you’ll be able to get one of those Class B weapons.”
I gave Quess and Leo a considering look in response to Eric’s statement. That was a valid point, but I was certain that if anyone could find a way for us to borrow one, it was them. “We’ll have to figure it out, but I think we can do it. All right, Quess, you call Mercury and fill him in on what we need. Zoe and Eric—”
“We have to distribute the Paragon today. We were supposed to do it yesterday, but with Tian…”
I licked my lips. Paragon had been created by Roark, a former Medic who had turned against the Tower after the Knights took his wife away from him. It had been his dream to escape the Tower, and Roark had kept that dream alive by slowly using the Paragon to recruit people he felt had skills vital to escaping, and then surviving. Now that he was gone, those twenty-nine people were relying on us to get Paragon to them. If we didn’t, they’d drop to ranks of one, and have to face what the Tower currently called justice.
Which was still sticking them in a gas chamber, and “expelling” them from the Tower. Thankfully, my ruse with Lacey during the trial had revealed that Devon Alexander had influenced Scipio into creating the law, and it was soon to be changed. But not until there was a full council to oversee and vote on the issue, which wouldn’t be done until after the Tourney was finished. They were down there, buried at the bottom of the Citadel like the dark secret that it was. I had seen it for myself, what felt like a lifetime ago, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
Well, maybe my worst, but not, like, my… mediocre one.
I smiled at my own quip, and then realized that Zoe was watching me. “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Are you ready for this? I mean, not only are you going to have to convince most of these people that you’re working with Roark, but you’re also going to have to convince them to take a hit in their rank. It’s not going to be easy, and after everything that’s just happened…”
Zoe gave me a lopsided, albeit tired, smile. “I already thought of that, and as callous as this sounds, I think we need to use Ambrose’s death and the nebulous status of the Citadel as a cause for our Paragon recipients to develop a case of depression. It’s understandable to the Medics, and will give us at least three months to wean them down a bit more before turning around and upping their dose when we get the formula. Speaking of which…” Her eyes slid over to Leo as she spoke. “What’s going on with rescuing Jasper?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “Alex found out that he was transferred to Sadie Monroe’s terminal, but as she’s the executive of the entire department, he couldn’t get much further than that.”
“All the more reason you need to become Champion, then,” Eric said. “Only council members can override other council members’ securities.”
“Only if I have a good reason,” I replied. “And it’s a moot point, anyway. We need to focus on seeing what we can do about Tian first. Then the Tourney.” I didn’t add what I knew we were all thinking: we had way too many balls in the air.
But, Scipio help me, I felt bad about Jasper. He had come to my aid so many times in the Medica early on. I owed him my life, and I had yet to square that debt. And it seemed even more important now that I knew he was one of the AI fragments that had been used to create Scipio.
“Right, we’ll get going now,” Zoe said, nodding to Eric. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
“Net if you have any problems,” I said. “Make sure you use the anchor program when you do.” Quess had designed the program to create a private virtual network that connected only to our nets. It was a tiny glitch in the net design that he had exploited, but one that kept our transmissions from being recorded by the IT Department.
“Will do,” Zoe said, slinging the bag of Paragon over her shoulder. “And don’t make a move on that sentinel without us.”
They left quickly, and I felt their urgency. In fact, the air practically tingled with it; we were doing something for Tian, and we had hopefully found a way to find her. Doing something—anything—productive was much better than dwelling on what had happened yesterday.
“I’ll net Mercury,” Quess said, and crossed over into the kitchen.
And just like that, Leo and I were alone.
I became aware of it almost instantly, and a dull heat started to grow in my cheekbones, my mind merrily skipping back to remind me about that kiss. I felt Leo’s gaze on me like a heavy weight that I was trying to push as far away as possible—though my body tingled with awareness, betraying me.
“Liana,” he said, his voice slightly roughened.
My stomach quavered. I couldn’t do this. “I’ve got to go check on Maddox,” I stammered, searching for an excuse to leave. Now.
I spun to do just that, but fast as a cat, he was there, ducking his way in front of me and forcing me to deal with him.
“What happened this morning?” he asked, giving me a searching look that I felt rather than saw. I couldn’t seem to look up from my feet.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. Was it me, or did my voice sound strained? I hoped he hadn’t noticed. “Excuse me.”
I angled to step past him, but he followed, blocking my path again. “Liana, I know you’re lying.” He paused, his face growing nervous. “I did something to scare you. Was it staying the night? I knew I should have waited until you were asleep and left, but suddenly I was very tired, too, and I fell asleep. I’m still trying to figure out my own limitations.”
I couldn’t explain why, but I still was hesitant to tell him. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was embarrassed that I had let it happen, or that I was worried I’d embarrass him, or worse… What if he was repulsed?
Leo reached out and placed a gentle knuckle under my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “Please,” he said, his eyes glowing earnestly. “I want to know.”
Scipio help me…
/> I told him. It came out in halting sentences, my cheeks burning a dull red that felt like it crept down right to the nape of my neck. Or at least, it started to come out. I managed to make it through the pre-kiss stuff, but as soon as I got to the part where we kissed, the words themselves slammed a gate down over my vocal cords with a Do Not Disturb sign.
“What?” Leo asked, his eyes searching.
I cleared my throat and gritted my teeth. He deserved to know. “You started kissing me this morning, but it was like you couldn’t hear me, and I couldn’t make you stop. You just kept saying my name, and now I am feeling really awkward, because yes, I needed someone to hold me last night, and I am very glad it was you because it’s a human experience you got to have, but at the same time, you’re inside of Grey, who is someone I clearly care about.”
Leo’s face went white at my words, and sorrow filled his eyes. “Oh my God, Liana. I am so terribly sorry. I swear, I don’t remember doing any of that. I just…”
He trailed off, at a loss for words, and a curious pain twisted in my heart, but I blatantly ignored it, focusing instead on a question: why couldn’t he remember? Was something wrong with him? Was it just a side effect of the dreamlike state he had been in, or was it a sign of something serious?
I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Leo, has anything like this happened before?” To my surprise, his cheeks darkened slightly. “On the morning of the first challenge, Ambrose woke up to find me standing in the kitchen,” he admitted shakily. “He said I was unresponsive for several minutes, and the only thing I would say was…” He outright flushed here, and ducked his head down, no longer meeting my gaze. “I just kept saying ‘Liana’ over and over again,” he finally announced, his voice almost a whisper. “Is there something wrong with me? Am I hurting Grey?”
He wrapped his arms around himself then, and compassion swelled in my heart like a balloon. I could sense his fear and concern, and felt a deep appreciation for his continued consideration of Grey. It made me soften toward him, and now, more than ever, I wanted to do something to help him deal with whatever he was going through. I touched his shoulder lightly, and he looked at me.