Comprehension dawns in Vale’s eyes. “You’re—you’re not human.”
“Goodness, no,” says Edgar. “Why would I ever want to be human?”
Vale’s jaw clenches. “Some kind of virtual assistant off its leash?”
Normally, I wouldn’t tell her. Edgar is a secret that could get me in prison and him melted into slag. But I need Vale to understand the threat she faces.
“Oh, far worse than that,” I say. “True AI. Sentient and everything. Built without any kind of empathy or morality constraints.” I bare my teeth at her. “But he does like old movies.”
Most humans would hesitate before purging hundreds of lives. But an AI has no such compunctions.
For a few moments, Vale remains still.
“All right,” she says quietly. “All right.” She holds up her free hand. “No one does anything stupid.” She looks down at the computer. It’s flicking through screen after screen as Edgar seizes control. I see her lips move silently, her eyes narrowing. Her fingers skim across the keyboard, over a USB port.
The bottom of my stomach drops out. I realized my mistake too late—before, she thought the room was empty of people. After all, there were only two humans. Now, she knows that this new threat could be anything from a USB flash drive to my visor.
“Edgar,” I say, suddenly frantic. “Cut off her access to the mainframe now.”
“Working on it, thank you,” says Edgar, sounding a little peeved. “This isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Vale drops to the floor, rummaging through the thin jacket she took from me. She comes up with the radio, the pepper spray, the visor, and my ringware. She looks up, scanning the room like a spotlight.
Her gaze snags on the bumblebee. I see the moment she understands—the parting of her lips, the fierce tilt of her jaw, the frozen beauty of her eyes.
And she raises her gun.
Fear courses through me.
“EDGAR!” I scream his name even as Vale’s finger tightens on the trigger.
I throw myself at her. It isn’t easy, not tied to a chair. I lurch and fall to one side. The clatter draws her attention, which was my intention.
The gun goes off, bullet slamming into one of the computers.
The suppressed pistol doesn’t blow out my eardrums, but it’s still loud. I’m flooded by the scent of burning plastic and metal, of smokeless powder and damp concrete. The zip tie bites into my skin, but adrenaline overtakes the pain. My stolen things are only a few feet away. Using all the strength in my legs, I manage to awkwardly scoot myself closer. My bump key glitters on the concrete. The metal chair screeches against the concrete, nearly drowning out the sound of Hannah Vale’s shouts. Just a little closer—a little more.
There. My fingers scrabble for the bump key. I bring its edge to the zip tie and saw back and forth. It’s awkward—I have almost no room to move. Just an inch, back and forth, back and forth.
A bumblebee whizzes through the air.
Vale fires a second time.
It’s stupid—she’d do better to find one of those badminton insect zappers. But her fury has gotten the better of her.
I dig the key in harder, ignoring the stinging pain in my wrists. I have to get free. I have to—
The plastic gives way. I scramble to my feet. Vale is typing rapidly into the computer, the screen flickering ominously. But even so, there is a clear command.
ACTIVATE MAINFRAME REMOTE ACCESS, it says.YES/NO
Vale presses her heavy ringware to the screen and hits,YES.
Edgar dive-bombs her.
It’s a valiant attempt. A bumblebee flying at someone’s face will make them instinctually flinch away. Vale stumbles back half a step, flinging out a hand to swat at him.
Her palm makes contact and he hits the wall and falls to the floor.
