Conduit - Season 2

Ch. 7

The elevator doors shut behind me as I stepped out on the Bridge. After getting back to Lyons, I spent hours with the 800s and the other androids on the Creation floor. Frank had started the upload process before we'd left; I wanted to get them halfway. Whatever made the final upload easier was the path I wanted to take, but jumping from one computer to the next was exhausting. As I walked through the Bridge, passed the technicians whispering among themselves as they got ready to call it a night; I was hoping for answers.

I passed Frank's desk and frowned. He wasn't there. His computer was on, papers were organized in front of the keyboard, and judging by what was on the screen, he registered the new guys. 600 series—that's what the androids were. They lacked branding or serial number as if they were erased from data servers. That tiny detail I didn't like.

"Elijah!" Victoria's voice called out to me.

With my hand passing over my neck, I looked up and at the end of the Bridge. Technicians passed me with their backpacks, calling it a night, but my eyes settled on Victoria. She stood next to Frank who was seated beside her with a pack of ice on his shoulder. I frowned. I didn't think he was that hurt, or at all.

I waved at her and approached. Frank looked at me with a weak smile. "Look who the cat dragged in," he said with a small chuckle.

"I wouldn't say cat." I looked around the emptying space. The storm intensified outside, and the thunder could be heard deep below Lyons. I looked up at the ceiling lights as another pair of employees walked past mid, quietly wishing me a good night. I nodded at them with a smile.

"Would you come here?" Victoria demanded. "You guy got back, where? Hours ago! Reggie and Frank were the only ones who came to me first. I had to spy on you to see if you were okay."

"Spy?" With a cocked brow, I pulled up a chair and sat beside them. "Rude."

"Everything's rude to you." She sighed and looked back at Frank. She passed him a small bottle of pills as she smiled weakly. "These will help inflammation. Other than that, you're okay. Just relax."

I looked at the two of them, pursing my lips. Inflammation wasn't good. Had he tried to do anything else before I found him? Or was this because he held off the androids' attack with me? They had slammed against the door hard, which meant he felt it, too, right?

"And you—" Victoria faced me. I couldn't tell if she was worried or mad, but my computer registered frustration. The word hovered in my vision for a moment before I blinked it away. Slowly, she came to me and touched my cheek. I felt the instant connection—electrical pulses, gentle sparks, our connection through computers and data. I looked up into her emerald eyes.

Her hand fell away but the bond remained. "Reggie's cuts will heal; I know you've been thinking about it. Yours," her gaze passed over me, "will, too. Who told you to jump from that window?"

My jaw dropped. "How else was I supposed to get Frank?"

Her brows shot up as she gave me a sly smile. "Stairs? You're fast. You could've outran all of them." Before I could say anything, she gently grabbed my chin and turned my head from side to side. I felt each tiny tinge of pain in my neck when she did it and I hissed. "I understand why you did it. You reacted from here," she placed her other hand over my heart, "and that's okay. It's human."

"That's me," I chuckled. "I think we should worry if I ever became more machine."

"I don't think that'll happen." She ruffled the thick curls on top of my head. "You're a Garret."

I was but was that a good thing? I hadn't told Victoria about all that my father told me from my visions, dreams, and communications through the data sphere—whatever they were. About how he believed humans wouldn't make it and becoming a machine was the answer. I wanted to protect her and keep a good memory of my father in her mind. Or maybe she knew his plan all along and was trying to protect me. I wouldn't know, nor was I ready to have the conversation. My father was dormant and sleep was wonderful without his whispers.