March City: Rebellion of the Gifted [Book 2 | Complete | Fantasy/Sci-fi]

Chapter 3: Hotel of Dreams

"Good question, baby Transformer. We may have escaped those robots, but we're definitely not safe yet." Rale peeked into one of the empty bedrooms and sauntered in, clearing the dust off the surface of one of the chairs — made of wood and some plush material, not the sleek steel of March City — and slumped into it, crossing long gangly legs.

"Well, you're the one who was convinced March City was a facade. What now, Detective Rale? Have you planned this far ahead?" Ari said, not without a grimace, wiping a hand on the window before peering out.

The sun perched low, dying the entire sky a brilliant series of violent purples and fiery oranges, more breathtaking than she could imagine. March City sunsets were bland, with the rice-yellow sun dropping between the skyline and leaving the street lights and the streaks of information lights atop skyscrapers to take over. The cragged outlines of the buildings here became silhouettes against the brilliance of the sunset.

"Of course."

Ari turned around, astonished. Rale gave her a smug look, pushing his glasses up his nose in his annoying fashion. He fished out his phone and swiped his thumb across it. A virtual screen shimmered, showing several red dots across a green, layered terrain.

"You brought your phone with you?" said Ari.

"Are you stupid?" Fris said, aghast. "We're trying to escape March City and you bring this?"

"Don't you think I'd have disconnected it from the main network? My dear Fris, do give me more credit," Rale said, raising an eyebrow. "Electrical signals are my figurative bread and butter, after all."

Fris hesitated and sat back beside Mina on the bed.

"I've modified it to trace the signals I've programmed," Rale couldn't help but boast. "I handed it out after we broke out of March City, in case we got separated along the way. I didn't think it would become handy so soon, but just as well, eh?"

"Yes, well done," Ari said with a roll of her eyes. Rale sounded as if he expected a medal or something. "Hope you've locked the devices to stop those robots from reverse-programming it to track us instead."

"Of course," he said, lofty. "It's programmed to power off an electric generator from an organic source, like Fris here. If any other external machines try to power it, it'll explode. I cover all my bases, especially after the disaster that was March City."

"I can't believe your stupid conspiracies were right." It seemed Fris had been brought up to date prior to Lira bringing Ari to Area One. "And I can't believe you—" She jabbed a finger at Ari. "—went along with it! Just because Shon didn't let you in on what Kena's group were doing!"

"They couldn't have done anything," Ari protested. "They had no idea where any of these were coming from. Kena was operating directly off the radar. Even Central Administration couldn't catch her and she'd been missing for a whole year."

"That was something I always found a bit odd," said Fris, frowning. "She didn't tell us much about how she survived a whole year — no medications, no food, no source of water — and Central Administration didn't find her even though cameras and sound- and heat-recorders were everywhere. And she managed to continue her research all this time? And create a vaccine against the memory modulating agents? It's impossible. You can't even sneeze without Central Administration knowing. And yet she survived it and more — how?"

"Central Administration is a program. A program is only as good as its programmer," said Rale, flicking his long fingers lazily over the virtual screen.

"You're saying it's a program flaw that she managed to survive for so long?"

"You saw how much time the terrorists had to grow and how much time the Users had to riot before they went all 'Oh, crud' on us. And we had time busting out of March City before they sent their little guards after us."