Through a Mirror, Darkly Read online

  They’d agreed that the patients, after long months spent in pods recuperating, would benefit from a tour of the facilities. Ben had heard them himself, tossing around old familiar phrases like “inspiring confidence” and “building trust.”

  It wasn’t like she was in there with them alone; Edwin and Nelson were there, too. Hell, even Denton had been there. No one had been able to stop it, yet they were looking for someone to take the fall. And Sylvia, his poor, sweet sister, was their scapegoat.

  Both of them were sitting on the floor of his office now, Sylvia with her legs drawn up to her chest, still sniffling, and him cross-legged in front of her.

  If Ben hadn’t been so angry, it would have been nice. It reminded him of when they were kids, staying up well past lights out and confiding in each other.

  He remembered the day Sylvia had been assigned her first Sigil appointment. She’d come home and refused to eat, shutting herself in their room and crying for hours. When he’d gone to cheer her up, it had not looked so different than this. He had been shorter, maybe. Not as wise. But he’d been there for her.

  “Don’t worry, Syl. You’re a great choice for the greeting station!” he’d assured her.

  “But the Information Desk?” she’d moaned. “It doesn’t sound very hard. I bet anyone could do it. It’s nothing special.”

  “Maybe anyone could do it, but you’re going to do it best. I know it!”

  And she did do it best. At her very first evaluation she had not only risen in rank, as might be expected. So good were her natural people skills that she had been appointed Head of Public Relations, the youngest one ever.

  She’d come home crying again, once more seeking Ben’s council.

  “What’s the matter?” thirteen-year-old Ben had asked with genuine concern. “I thought this is what you wanted?”

  “But Ben,” Sylvia had sniffled, “I love the Information Desk. I meet so many interesting people there. Even Mr. Smalls stops to talk to me some days!”

  Ben had been quick to point out that, as head of the department, there was no reason Sylvia couldn’t stay at the Information Desk if it meant so much to her.

  And stay she had, making the Information Desk her department headquarters. She had more responsibility than ever, but she thrived.

  She was still thriving, just a little more stressed than she used to be. Looking at her now, he saw the same girl from assignment day. The one who hadn’t been able to see the path before her and was afraid. And how could he blame her? The world was a lot scarier than it had seemed when they were growing up. A lot bigger, too.

  “They’ll get over it, Sylvia,” he consoled her. “It wasn’t your fault. They’re just being jerks.”

  She shook her head, her eyes puffy from crying.

  “Denton said it would take weeks to fix the damage. Maybe more.”

  “Yeah right, like Denton has any idea about stuff like that. Denton wouldn’t know how long it would take to fix a busted doorknob. He’s just making stuff up to sound like he knows what’s going on.”

  “And we don’t know how long it will be before they come back through!” she burst out, eyes welling up once more.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Ben said with an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been running this place for six months, and this is the first outside activity. You really think it’s going to go from nothing to a sudden thoroughfare of travel? It’ll be fine, Syl. Trust me.”

  “But what if—”

  Ben stretched his leg out, tapping her on the knee with one foot. “I said, trust me, okay?”

  He yawned and let his head fall back against the cool metal of the panel behind him. “Weeks, huh? No way, not unless they gave Denton a whole team of incompetent engineering wannabes. I bet I could have it up and running in three days, tops.”

  “You haven’t seen it.”

  “Don’t need to.”

  “It’s really bad.”

  “I’m really good.”

  Sylvia let out a tiny snort of laughter. She’d stopped crying, but her lips still formed a small pout.

  “Nelson said something about the control panel being unique since it was built specifically for the defenses. He said all the damaged parts are going to need to be reconstructed from scratch.”

  “I’m sure it’s not as bad as he’s making it out to be,” Ben assured her, examining his fingernails. He’d snagged one on the edge of his console and it had flipped backward, causing an odd sensation of pain and leaving behind a curved white line between the nail and the skin, marking the place where it had given up. “We both know Nelson’s got a dramatic side. If he said it would be easy, we wouldn’t be as impressed when he swoops in to save the day!”

  At this Sylvia seemed to brighten just a bit, and a small smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “He is rather dramatic, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, yeah. Like a girl.”

  She crossed her arms in mock offense, but she was smiling freely now, which made Ben feel better, too.

  He was still angry with Edwin, though. Edwin was supposed to be in charge now. Nelson, Ben could understand. He’d always been a hothead, prone to speaking before he thought things through. But Edwin should be taking responsibility, not shirking it off onto others. And of all the people to blame, pointing the finger at Sylvia? That was just low.

  Ben wanted to ask about the troublesome patient but decided that would only make Sylvia more depressed. He’d find out later.

  “Tell you what.” Ben climbed to his feet and reached down to help her up. “Let’s go grab some food, and then you can hang out with me for the rest of my shift. I’ve been making some good progress. It’ll be fun.”

  Sylvia’s expression suggested that they had two very different ideas of what constituted ‘fun,’ but she nodded.

  “All right. It would be nice to spend some time together. I don’t see much of you these days.”

  “Being in charge isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Long hours, high expectations, no appreciation, zero perks.” He ticked off each of these with a finger and looked at his hand with a sigh. He shook his head. “Oh well, someone has to do it!”

  They chatted as they walked. By the time they returned from the commissary, they were both feeling in much better spirits. They’d poked fun at the surly red-haired man behind the counter, one of the only constants to survive the changing of the guard on Reclamation Day. He had just showed up at his post the very next day, angry as ever, and continued on serving lunch as if nothing had happened.

  It had been awhile since Ben had just hung out with his sister, not worrying about work, or Elves, or any of the other ominous things that loomed over them all on a daily basis.

  Ben reached the door to Pods first and opened it for her, stepping aside with a flourish and a bow to allow her to enter first. She giggled, but then her face went dark.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Edwin.” She was pointing to her comm. “He asked me to meet him.”

  Ben scoffed, offering what he was sure was an exaggerated look of displeasure so that he could be certain she would understand his thoughts on the matter.

  “Tell him if he’s ready to apologize, he can damn well come to you. You know what, never mind, I’ll tell him.”

  He reached out and before Sylvia could swat his hand away he had plucked the device from her ear. He held it up to his own and pressed a button.

  “Listen, Edwin, you’ve got some nerve, man.”

  “Ben? Sorry, I was trying to reach Sylvia, I don’t know how I—”

  “Oh, you’ve reached Sylvia all right.”

  Ben put an arm out to fend off his sister as she tried to wrestle the comm back from him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “You guys did a real number on her. You ought to be ashamed! I just got finished cheering her up and now you gotta go and ruin everything again.”

  “Ben,” Edwin implored, “please, can I just—”

  “I’ll tell you what you ‘can
just.’ You can just come down here to Pods and apologize to my sister is what you can just. And I’m going to make sure it’s good and sincere, or you’ll need to find someone else to network your damn pods.”

  He pulled the comm out of his ear and slipped it into his pocket, giving it a satisfying pat of finality and feeling rather pleased with himself. Sylvia was staring at him, mouth agape.

  “You just threatened to quit your job.”

  Ben waved a hand dismissively.

  “It doesn’t matter. It was an empty threat. I’m just trying to watch out for my big sister, you know? We have to take care of each other, you and I!”

  He reached out and took her hand, drawing her in to the long, dim room. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “But what about Edwin?”

  Ben shrugged. “He’ll find us.”

  They took The Rat—Ben’s nickname for the giant, room-sized lift—to the lower level. They worked their way through the many people moving among the now-partitioned rooms, working on various pod-related projects.

  Sylvia was quite familiar with everything going on down here. In the beginning, she had been in a room just like these ones, using trial and error to discover which types of pods would function best for medical purposes. Now that they’d narrowed down the selection, Sylvia had arranged for ‘her’ pods to be moved up to a vacant lab in the East wing.

  “How is your new lab working out for you, anyway? It’s nice, right? Edwin got you everything you need in there?”

  “I liked working near you,” she admitted, “but there was just something about being so close to the exit...knowing the Gate was nearby. It gave me the creeps.”

  Ben gave a solemn nod. “So, if the Elves come back and march in, I’ll be among the first to perish, but at least you’ll be safe, right?”

  She looked at him in horror. “That’s not what I meant at all!”

  Ben laughed, giving her a playful shove. “It was a joke, Syl. Just a joke.”

  Sylvia’s steps slowed as they approached one of Ben’s current projects and he sensed her hesitation.

  “You don’t have to look at them.”

  “I don’t have to see them to remember,” she said, shuddering. “Remind me again why we can’t just...get rid of them?”

  Ben shook his head. “Until we know what the Elves were trying to do with them, our best option is to keep them alive.”

  He frowned, pondering his choice of words. “If you can call it that.”

  He walked to the nearest pod and peered inside. “I don’t know. They’re growing on me. Kinda cute, in a hideous, give-you-nightmares sort of way.”

  “Ugh,” Sylvia replied with a grimace. “I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”

  Ben looked around for something to keep Sylvia occupied while he got to work. Finding nothing, he pulled a chair up next to him and she sat. Ben’s tablet made the familiar tone that signaled its connection to the nearest pod, and he began scanning the information flashing on the screen as it scrolled past.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking at the code,” he explained, his eyes not leaving the tablet. “I’m looking for discrepancies between this pod and others like it. I’ve only just finished writing the program to help me do it. Neat, huh?”

  “I guess,” she said, with a degree of uncertainty. “Why do you need to know if there are discrepancies?”

  “It will help me narrow down the purpose of the little munchkin inside.”

  “How?”

  Ben sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remind himself that he’d invited her here, and the questions were to be expected. Still, it was difficult to concentrate when he had to explain what he was doing.

  She could read the frustration in his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...I can go. I should go check on my patients again anyway.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” Ben bit his lip, struggling to reconcile his programmer’s language with Sylvia’s layman understanding. “Okay, so it’s like this—”

  “Sylvia!”

  They both turned to see Edwin striding toward them, hand in the air as if trying to flag them down. Ben frowned as Sylvia shot up out of her chair to face the big man in charge.

  “That didn’t take long,” he muttered.

  Sylvia clapped a hand over her mouth, reaching up with the other one to feel the empty space her comm usually occupied.

  “I forgot you took my comm, you jerk! I bet he’s been trying to reach me this whole time!” She stood nervously, wringing her hands. “Edwin, I’m so sorry!”

  But Edwin was shaking his head.

  “No, no, I deserved it.”

  He glanced at Ben, who nodded his approval at the strong opening.

  “Listen, Sylvia, I’m sorry about before. I’m under a lot of stress right now, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m in charge. I can’t blame someone else every time something goes wrong. I need to be better than that. And Sylvia, what happened in Core Operations...that wasn’t your fault. I should never have put that on you. Nelson—”

  Ben groaned. “Tut tut, Edwin, and you were doing so well.”

  Edwin sighed. “What I was trying to say was that Nelson can be a little...well, Nelson’s a lot of things. But I had no right to let his misguided accusations color my judgement. I’ve wronged you.”

  Sylvia was blushing again, her eyes downcast.

  “So?” Edwin asked hesitantly, looking from her nervous face to Ben’s stony one as if his next question were directed at both of them. “Can you forgive me?”

  Sylvia’s head bobbed once, though she was still looking at the floor, still wringing her hands in front of her waist as though unsure what to do with them.

  “Good!”

  Edwin turned to Ben with a relieved expression. Ben made no gesture of forgiveness; he did not want Edwin thinking he had gotten off easy. “There, that’s settled. Now, if you would be so kind as to return Sylvia’s earpiece, we do have matters to discuss.”

  Ben appraised Edwin for a long moment before reaching down and slipping the comm out of his pocket. He tossed it to Edwin, who handed it back to Sylvia.

  “Be nice to my sister,” Ben warned, making his normally cheerful voice as menacing as he could manage. Which wasn’t saying much, since Ben was not what could be considered the menacing type.

  “I intend to.” Edwin gave him a polite nod. Sylvia’s rosy cheeks became a deep scarlet as Edwin offered her an arm.

  With a glance back at Ben, she took it and allowed herself to be led from the room. Ben spent a few moments gazing after them, trying to decide how he felt about the changing dynamic between his sister and his boss. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with the direction their relationship seemed to be heading.

  Ben swiveled back, staring at the lines of code as each one appeared. As they were checked against their counterparts, they would turn green to indicate correspondence.

  Ben found his thoughts drifting as green line after green line moved up and off the screen, a silent march of numbers, letters and symbols.

  He was close to a solution on the networking front; he could feel it. All they needed to do was get the different types of pods to communicate with one another. He’d been tinkering with the idea of a hard line, but that would be tricky. They’d have to link every single pod physically, and once done, moving them around would be a real hassle.

  It wasn’t that the pods lacked wireless capability. They could be connected to the pods closest to them as well as interfacing with the other equipment. The problem was creating a mesh network. Ben had always considered himself a decent programmer, but he didn’t have the training or the reference for this. Everything was trial and error, and nothing seemed to be working so far.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when it happened. A line of code appeared, and instead of turning green, it went red. Ben was startled
and watched without doing anything as two more red lines appeared. Then there was more green, and the red lines marched up the screen. They were about to disappear when Ben paused the program, reading the lines over and over again.

  The red parts were data that had been input, not actual code. It made sense that this aspect would differ from the other pods since those were currently unoccupied. But just what was he looking at? For Ben, code was just like a story, only in a different type of language. He just needed to read it in context.

  He scrolled up a bit. This part had to do with source materials and processes. He looked at the numbers again. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He leaned back in his chair, absently sucking on his front teeth. Where had he seen data like this before?

  He made a note of it and let the program continue running, but try as he might to remember, he couldn’t think of where he’d seen those numbers before. Had it been recently? No.

  It came to him like a flash of lightning in his mind. He bolted upright and made for the Rat.

  Once back in Pods he searched his office for his own comm. He never wore it even though he was supposed to keep it in at all times. It hurt his ear, and the feeling of blockage gave him the unnerving sense that his head was off kilter.

  Spotting it at last he popped it in, knowing it was already set to Sylvia’s frequency. She was the only one he ever bothered to contact.

  “Syl?”

  He hated using the comms. He felt idiotic, talking to an empty room.

  “Ben?” came her quick, worried reply, “What’s up?”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “I’m with Edwin. We’re in his office.”

  “Okay.” Ben was thinking hard. Edwin should probably see this, too. “Okay, good. Can you bring him with you, and meet me in your lab?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “It’s complicated. I’ll explain when you get there.”

  He stepped out of his office to find Killian Graves standing, fist raised, about to knock. Killian stepped back and let his arm fall to his side.

  “Oh, hey, Ben.”

  Killian did not fit the profile of a stereotypical programmer. He was average height but well proportioned, muscular and well suited to the heavy lifting that had become part and parcel of working in Pods these days. His neatly combed brown hair, unlike Ben’s own wild locks, stayed where he intended it to stay, and warm, intelligent grey eyes offered a hint of the keen mind hidden behind them. Ben often felt guilty that while he toiled below, Killian was left with the bulk of the department head’s responsibilities up here. Assigning people and acquiring parts—all the paperwork and tedium Ben despised—was something Killian did well and without complaint. He was an invaluable right-hand man.