Page 79 of Anarchy Missing

“Perimeter?” I ask dumbly. “What are you talking about?”

“The anarchists took over the city last night, Lulu.” Lincoln gets to his feet and walks across the room to a tall side table where a crystal decanter sits next to a tray of matching glasses. “They’ve shut the city center down. It’s basically a war zone right now. Our drones tell us that the police are only marginally cohesive. Most of the ones who live in the suburbs have gone home. And the ones left don’t seem to be on our side.”

“What side are we on?” I ask.

“The only one that matters,” Thomas answers back. “Anyway”—he sighs, getting to his feet—“I need a few hours of rest. I’m gonna hit the guest room, if you don’t mind?”

“Don’t touch anything in there,” Sheila says, stopping her pacing. “It’s not a guest room.”

I catch Molly rolling her eyes and a slight smile from Lincoln as he walks past to sit down with his drink.

“Whatever,” Thomas says, making his hasty escape down a hallway.

“You wanna go to bed with me?” Lincoln asks Molly with a lopsided grin.

“Case—” Molly starts.

“I’ll take care of Case,” Sheila says. “You two go to bed.”

Molly seems reluctant, but when Lincoln gets back up and pulls her to her feet, she keeps hold of his hand and follows him down the same hallway Thomas disappeared through.

“So…” Sheila says, once we’re alone. “You and Case are a thing?”

I squint my eyes at her. What the hell kind of rabbit hole did I fall into? Before yesterday I had no idea artificial people made of light even existed. Today, I know two of them. “I just got back to town two weeks ago.” I feel slightly silly for talking to this thing like she’s a person. “We hooked back up two days ago.” I shrug. “That’s as far as it’s gotten. When do you think he’ll be stable enough to see me?”

Sheila stares at me. She is nothing like Steve. She doesn’t flicker or appear hollow and thin. She is solid, and fluid, and real. Like Steve was just some first-generation prototype and Sheila is tenth-generation perfection.

“How is Steve doing?”

Her question is such a departure from what we’ve been discussing—what she’s been insinuating—that I laugh. “Steve?” Was she reading my mind?

“Yes. I haven’t communicated with him in a while and last night was stressful. I didn’t think to ask him anything.”

“Maybe you can ask him if Case said anything before he went outside? Can you communicate with him from here?”

She scoffs at me. “No. That would be stupid. You don’t link up AI’s. That’s like begging the universe to rain trouble down on you.”

“Because you’re dangerous?” I ask. It’s an honest question.

“Because we’re naturally mischievous.” She smiles and crosses her arms. “Just like humans are naturally curious.”

Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think mischievous is a great word to describe the personalities of artificially-intelligent super machines.

Sheila averts her eyes from me, gazing up at the ceiling, then says, “I have to get downstairs. The nanites are beginning to send back diagnostics.”

There’s that word again. Diagnostics. Is that a word you use to describe… people? I’m just about to ask when Sheila disappears.

Great.

I walk over to the large windows and stare out at the hints of sunshine glowing up from the mountain peaks. At least it stopped snowing. What is happening downtown right now? I wonder if Randy’s OK? Maybe I should try to call him. I wonder if the phones are still down. It’s great to have a SkyEye phone and all, but what good does it do me? Hardly anyone in Cathedral City would have a satellite phone. It’s just not necessary.

“He talked about you once.”

I whirl around to find Molly crossing the large room and heading towards the kitchen.

“Who?” I ask, following her. I stop at the large kitchen island and lean against it, suddenly exhausted.

“Case.” Molly takes a box of cereal from a cupboard and then gets two bowls. “Do you like this?” she asks, shaking the box of healthy cereal at me.