What interested them? His activity online? Where he went, what he said?

  He eyed a built-in console system on the living room wall. Teck saw that it allowed access to Orion’s network. He didn’t check it, knowing what it contained would be limited. Access only to whatever Voss deemed necessary.

  The illusion of freedom without actually giving it? Clever.

  Next, Teck moved into the kitchen, white and sterile. Smart kitchen units had been fitted with Orion-branded food dispensers, stocked with pre-approved rations most likely. The lack of sharp instruments meant he would not be expected to cook.

  With his entire living space on a single floor, he swept through the bathroom, then the spartan bedroom, decorated like everything was temporary.

  A wave of worry hit him, and he sank onto the edge of the bed. Any moment now, agents could burst through the door and arrest him.

  Today, at his workstation, he’d uncovered a weakness in Orion’s local system.

  He thought of his sister. Of Kaz. Two people depending on him to succeed. To do that, he needed to get Spark access to the primary system. But to help one, he might have to betray the other.

  Teck released a breath. Perhaps his paranoia was unfounded. So far, this single-occupancy unit suggested Voss had not discovered his online activities.

  Or Voss was just biding his time.

  The chancellor claimed to trust him, but the drone’s monitoring of his activities today said he did not.

  He thought of Spark in a room deep in the underground with the rest of the Doomsayers. Waiting for him to contact her. So far, he didn’t see how to access the main network without triggering an alert.

  But perhaps that was what Voss expected of him—to try. To reveal the location of his accomplices.

  The Doomsayers. A known entity.

  Spark. Unknown, unidentified.

  To capture their leader would be the ultimate prize to Voss.

  As Teck sat in his new home that was six times the size of his old shoebox, only one person mattered right now. Not his sister, not Spark.

  He wondered when Voss would put him and Kaz together.

  Find another way to send a message.

  His brain had a point. Tomorrow, Voss may pull him off his duties, removing his access to the private chat room. He couldn’t rely on it being there.

  Teck returned to the living room with the built-in console system and activated it. The light beamed into the room.

  He was presented with a menu.

  Orion Newsfeed was first, mostly bullshit propaganda reinforcing Voss’s narrative that Orion was a success. Reports on the Unworthy followed. Criminal disruptions, the report labeled them. No mention of the rebels inside Orion actually attempting to disrupt.

  Next came a work assignment portal. He expected any assignments would be posted here.

  Also listed were controls for the smart home, and a directory of businesses and activities for tiers 4 and 5.

  The last one piqued his interest. A messaging system.

  He clicked on it but his hope deflated when he saw a rudimentary set up. Any messages would likely be filtered through Orion’s security team or AI.

  Another discovery deflated his hope. Messages could only be sent to Orion personnel.

  No option to contact Kaz, or manipulate the system to send outgoing messages beyond its parameters.

  He cursed but quickly berated himself, remembering where he was. If Orion was listening, he would need to be careful.

  Any use of this console would be recorded. He had no doubt. If he attempted unauthorized hacking, his connection would be flagged instantly. A software keylogger would likely note what he struck on the screen. But the latter he could get around with an encrypted key-sequence program.

  The former, a little more difficult.

  But maybe there was a weakness he could exploit...

  The part of Freedom city that was now Level 5 would have had a legacy communications system.

  Teck thought of something and circled back to the directory showing details for Levels 4 and 5. Using his comms tech, he sent a command to the screen, initiating a specific key sequence designed to hide his real keystrokes.

  While the program replayed it, he opened the directory, noting that the map for Five was using old city records, including places that had not been captures under the force field. Like the large park that existed outside of Orion’s control, beyond the electrified zones.

  Teck entered a command and the basic system gave him partial access to utility logs, including old maintenance zones. By examining these logs, he found references to a separate, restricted database that still stored outdated city records.

  He thought fast, coming up with an idea.

  Worth a try…

  Teck recorded a false-error report claiming that the park was not an active zone inside Level 5. The system ran a check on what he hoped were the old reports, not the new ones. As it did, he requested a forced system reconciliation, hoping it would allow him to check the discrepancy instead of the AI.

  Teck released a soft breath when the system temporarily granted his console access to historical records so that he could ‘verify’ the issue. With any luck, the system would record his access as fixing a mapping error. From his time hacking lower-level Orion systems, he knew non-critical errors did not create alerts.

  His hands shook with his next move.

  With the old city blueprints before him, he searched for any old comms terminals that had been in use by the old city but were replaced by Orion’s. But so far, they did not stand out.

  Teck tricked the system into giving him deeper access by running a fake zoning compliance check. The console produced a new set of information, including where the terminals for the old comms systems were.

  With a pounding pulse, he enabled the old system, then waited for Orion’s system flag his action.

  Seconds passed, then a minute.

  No flag occurred.

  What he thought and hoped. According to Orion, these older systems were not part of the new structure. Nothing to flag.

  With time running out, Teck quickly typed a message, using Kaz’s ID as the identifier, and bouncing the signal off the terminal.

  As soon as you deliver your father’s journals, Voss will kill you.

  If she was in a comms blind spot, she might receive it.

  With a careful sigh, he canceled everything and the console returned to normal.

  Worried Kaz wasn’t seeing the play, he had warned her about Voss. But more importantly, he had found another way to fool Orion’s systems.

  5

  C13

  The close call with R19 had left Spark and her crew with a dilemma. If they woke the wrong androids, would they attempt another alert?

  They’d been lucky. Theo had stepped in before the bot could send a warning. But knowing that was possible had made everyone cautious, including C13.

  While the others discussed a next step, C13 walked along the aisles of frozen machines waiting for their next assignment that may never come. Although, with knowledge of their previous roles wiped, would any of them even know?

  She studied the collection of bots on display. R-class ones were mixed with H-class health Centroids. The latter was easily identifiable by the red cross on their chest.

  Perhaps they had malfunctioned to end up here.

  Or they had just become useless.

  If it hadn’t been for her and Theo remembering, they may have ended up here much earlier.

  Both of them had been interviewed by a woman called Grint. The reason? A raid at an entertainment party with Voss in attendance. C13 had lied about who and what she’d seen. It had saved her from an earlier termination.

  Two other Centroids had also been interviewed, C1 and C5. Male and female.

  Her system zinged with a new thought. Could those Centroids be here?

  ‘Theo,’ she said, gesturing him over.

  He joined her. ‘Idea?’

  ‘C1 and C5.’

  He nodded in understanding. ‘It’s possible. I’ll check.’

  Spark frowned, clearly not understanding. ‘What’s the idea?’

  But C13 saw no point in explaining if the Centroids weren’t here.

  Theo went one way while C13 went another. She checked the faces of all the C-class static bots. When she came to the third row from the back, six in, she saw her. C5.

  The blonde-haired Centroid looked almost serene in shutdown.

  Theo shouted from another spot, ‘I found him!’

  With a wave, C13 called Spark over, who came up to her.

  ‘Care to share now?’ the Asian woman asked.

  ‘Other Centroids, from our recharging room.’

  But even as she said it, doubt entered her mind. Could any newer-model Centroids be freed, or were they too hardwired to Orion?

  Spark had targeted the earlier, more basic R models on the premise that they were easier to hack. And she had only been able to wake C13 because of a piece of code Spark had slipped into her deeper systems. As far as she knew, neither C1 nor C5 had been manipulated in the same way. If they had, surely Spark would have woken them by now.

  Spark gestured to her team. One, a man called Devon, brought her a screen and cables.

  She hooked up everything to C5 like she had done with R19.

  C13 stood close, in case C5 panicked like the other bot had.

  Spark frowned. ‘C-class models are not an easy system to hack…’

  ‘Can’t you just do what you did with my system?’

  She shook her head. ‘I was able to slip the code in because you were on the network during one of your client visits. Without that code, I am forced now to trudge through layers of encryption to find the best place to put the wake-up command.’

  She hesitated, but her second-in-command, Devon said, ‘We have to try.’

  Spark nodded. ‘I know…’

  Her hardware did the primary work, then, after five minutes, Spark initiated a basic command designed to wake the Centroid before her.

  C13 watched for early signs that this bot would not play nice.

  C5’s long lashes fluttered open. She looked around, clearly confused. Then she saw it, the panic in her eyes, the shock. The hesitation that she had done wrong or should do something.

  Spark flinched. ‘I’m shutting it down.’

  C13 placed a hand on her arm before she could.

  ‘Let me speak to her.’

  Spark nodded, the tension still evident. ‘You have thirty seconds.’

  C13 looked into the eyes of the pretty blonde Centroid.

  ‘W-where am I? What is this place?’ C5’s voice sounded as if it were being pushed through a filter. But then her shaky voice rose in pitch. ‘This is an anomaly. I must rep—’

  C13 gripped her shoulder, stopping her rant. ‘C5, it’s me, C13. Designation C13-5503.’

  The blonde bot appeared to run the number through her mind. Then she gave her a soft nod.

  ‘You are safe, please don’t worry,’ C13 added.

  ‘What happened?’ C5 asked, the tone of her voice modulator normalizing now.

  ‘You were sent for decommissioning. What do you remember last?’

  C5 frowned, her blonde hair spilling forward, partly covering her pink-stained porcelain cheeks.

  ‘An interview… on Level Five. I returned to work, but then received an assignment. A van. Dark, waiting.’

  Spark’s eyes widened. ‘How is she remembering? We didn’t place code into her.’

  C13 had a possible reason. ‘Consistently rewriting over old memories can create ghost digital data.’ Teck had told her that. ‘Memories can survive the mind wipe if stored in the proper area.’

  She knew that from experience.

  C5 didn’t look appeased by that explanation, even if Spark did.

  The blonde bot frowned. ‘Why am I here?’

  C13 kept a tight grip on her, not confident she had her trust. ‘They must have determined you to be an anomaly. You and C1.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘C1 is here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Had she formed a connection similar to the one C13 had with C8—Theo? With built-in emotions, anything was possible.

  ‘I w-want to speak to him.’

  ‘We haven’t woken him yet.’

  C13 eyed the Centroid, fully naked. Spark’s team didn’t seem to care, but it bothered her.

  ‘Can we get her some clothes?’

  Spark shook her head, too focused on her screen. ‘Not until I remove her ability to send warnings and alerts.’ She hit another key. ‘There. Wait…’

  ‘What?’ Theo asked.

  But Spark just frowned. After a brief moment, she said, ‘There’s code embedded in her deeper programming. It shouldn’t be there.’ She looked at C13, worry in her eyes. ‘It doesn’t exist in yours or Theo’s.’

  Theo stepped closer, a frown on his face. ‘What is it?’

  Spark turned the screen to face both of them. Reams of developer code displayed. It meant little to C13, but not Theo. He was the first to see it.

  He pointed at one line. ‘There…’

  C13 removed her hand from C5 so she could see the screen better.

  It took her another moment, but she saw what Spark was alluding to. A new section for control buried deep in the female’s basic command structure.

  Spark explained, ‘It’s a line of code that, if initiated, can override basic functioning.’

  ‘For what reason?’ Theo asked.

  ‘It could be anything, but my theory? Voss could be reprogramming Centroids for something worse.’

  Worse?

  ‘But you said it’s not in all Centroids,’ said C13.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘And the earlier models with R designation?’ Theo asked.

  Spark shook her head. ‘We aborted R19’s awakening before I could check anything crucial.’

  Suddenly, waking C5 had become riskier.

  Should they leave her here to be reprogrammed or take her with them and risk a remote activation?

  ‘What do you want to do?’ C13 asked Spark.

  The Asian woman considered it for a moment, but it was Theo who came up with a reply.

  ‘If there are critical weaknesses in the C-class entertainment bots, doesn’t that give you an opportunity to reprogram them with your commands?’

  Spark gave a rue smile. ‘Exactly what I was thinking.’ She clicked her fingers at Devon. ‘Let’s wake up C1. We need to see how deep their reprogramming goes.’

  The male’s wakening went smoother than C5’s. For a start, he showed no level of panic as the female had done. C13 recalled his reaction after Voss’s entertainment party, the same one that raiders—possibly Spark’s—had crashed.

  Then, the male had been calm, collected. Exactly what they needed from freshly woken Centroids.

  She eyed C5, now dressed in a pair of combats and a T-shirt. But even with her more appropriate outerwear, she still acted too green, too nervous to be of real use.

  Time would tell.

  And if they could figure out how to hijack or change the code Voss had slipped in, perhaps her nervousness and caution would vanish over time. The chancellor of Orion would be left to scramble, wondering what happened to his precious, money-making bots.

  But a huge issue remained. Even though they were in a decommissioning center, to be forgotten, physically removing bots from the location—including her and Theo—may still be flagged.

  They would worry about that later. Never again would C13 serve a society that cared more about money and the rich than respect and dignity.

  A memory hit her of Kaz Winters, the woman who had helped her and Theo to escape. The last she’d seen was Kaz being dragged back to Orion. But that had been the plan. She just hoped the woman hadn’t succumbed to a worse fate than hers.

  Spark’s team gathered near the exit, with Spark looking anxious to leave. She pulled the top half of her environmental suit up and fitted her helmet.

  ‘I’ve got to go, Devon,’ she said. ‘It’s nearly sundown. All scavengers need to be back inside Orion.’

  Devon nodded and opened his backpack. From it, he pulled a flat piece of hardware. A motherboard?

  Spark took it and nodded gratefully. ‘They’ll like this.’

  Spare treasures. Something of value but equally worthless.

  Valuable enough to keep getting scavenger passes. Clever.

  ‘Get moving, all of you,’ Spark said.

  C13 watched the woman leave, but only her. The others must not be scavengers, instead living outside of Orion’s control.

  Devon, now in charge, barked quick, sharp orders to his team.

  As if they’d done this a hundred times, the team dispersed, making sure to leave no trace that they’d been there.

  Devon walked over to C13.

  ‘We need to leave before Orion pings the system. That’s in the next hour.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To a safe house.’

  6

  KAZ

  She woke to the sound of deathly silence. If this had been a different situation, it would have been a welcome reprieve from the chaotic noise of the lower levels. This sound crawled over her skin like a snake looking for warmth.

  Careful, Kaz. Remember where you are.

  She checked the time, surprised to see it was close to 6.30PM. She had been asleep for hours.

  She blinked and shook away her stupidity. Too much time wasted.

  The duvet felt cold, as did the now-dry towel Kaz still wore. She got up and walked into the corridor connecting bedroom to bathroom. Doubling as a closet, she leafed through the color-coded collection of clothes provided. High-end threads that screamed opulence.

  Her head spun from the wardrobe before her. For a year, clothes hadn’t mattered. Now, what she wore did—at least to the people who lived on and ran this tier.

  Focus, Kaz.

  Once again, she shook her head. Her mind pulled as if it were on drugs. But she hadn’t been given anything—not that she knew of anyway.

  With another shake, the distraction of luxury—something she had missed—fluttered out of her mind. But some vanity remained.

 

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