The Beyond: Dystopian Survival Fiction (The Breeder Files Book 4) by Eliza Green (best ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📕

The Inventor’s eyes widened in fear. ‘More Copies?’

She shook her head. ‘Not like the ones in the Great Hall.’

She didn’t explain further.

The old man released her arm and she hurried on, keen to see if the Copy she needed to find was actually there.

Rover was sitting in the middle of the courtyard amid the broken bricks, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. His mate was lying beside him, head nestled in her paws. Rover stood when Carissa approached; the second wolf lifted her head with apathy. Carissa rewarded Rover with a pat on the nose as she passed.

The entrance was still unlocked. She hurried inside and down the corridor leading to the Great Hall, stopping outside the door just before it.

The Inventor caught up with her a second time. ‘Are you sure, Carissa?’

She stilled at the Inventor’s formal use of her name. Not miss, but Carissa.

She nodded. ‘I’m sure.’

Truth was she had no idea what she would find. Her connection to the Collective, meaning her connection to other Copies, no longer existed. Anything she did now came from a gut feeling.

She tried the handle but the door was still locked. Thomas got out his lock-picking set and worked his magic on it. Carissa pushed the handle down again. The door clicked open to reveal a dozen upright pods lining both sides of the room. The familiar connectors hung down from the ceiling over each pod. Carissa shivered at the sight of the room, a place she had been expected to upload her experiences to the Collective. Her NMC had been disabled, but Quintus could still contact her. Could she still use one of these?

She shook the thought from her mind. A collective gasp from the others pushed her on. Of the two dozen pods, only half were connected. She walked along the right-hand row, checking the occupants there. She stopped at one, the Copy she’d wanted to find, the same one who’d helped Anya to escape.

The medic’s eyes were closed. But her lids betrayed no rapid movement to indicate an upload was in progress.

The Inventor came to her side. ‘Do you think the units were shut down mid-upload?’

‘It’s possible.’ She looked up at him and pointed to the connectors. ‘I can’t reach. Please disconnect this Copy from the pod’s connector.’

The old man reached up and pulled the connector away from the Copy’s NMC disc. Her eyes remained closed.

Carissa waited for the medic to reboot. Within a minute, the Copy’s eyes fluttered open.

She flashed a nervous look at the Inventor, her spine straightening. ‘What are you doing here?’

118-C stepped out of her pod and a fearful Inventor stepped back.

Carissa placed her hand on the Copy’s chest, breaking her fixation on him. ‘I asked him to disconnect you.’

118-C blinked and refocused on Carissa. Her eyes narrowed.

‘173-C,’ she said. Carissa nodded. ‘Why can’t I sense you?’

‘I’m no longer connected to the network. Do you remember the last time you saw me?’

The medic blinked, her pupils sharpening to fine points.

They dilated and she gasped. ‘The escape! Did you make it?’

Carissa nodded. ‘Thanks to you. What happened after we left?’

118-C frowned at the floor. ‘I was captured and taken here.’ She looked at Carissa. ‘Then you woke me up.’

‘I don’t have time to explain, but the Collective has abandoned the city.’

The medic frowned. ‘Abandoned, why?’ She closed her eyes, and Carissa knew she was attempting to assess the situation. 118-C opened her eyes with a sigh. ‘I can’t sense anyone. Can the Collective leave?’

‘I don’t know, but I need to know where they went. Also, do the names Alex and Jerome mean anything to you?’

The medic frowned deeper and shook her head. ‘I don’t know anyone by those names.’

‘Hidden data says you were the last to speak with them.’

118-C paced a small area. The others kept well back.

‘They must have deleted my memories of that interaction.’ She stopped pacing, looking unsure. ‘How can I help?’

Carissa cut her eyes to the Inventor.

The old man stepped forward. ‘Do you know who I am?’

118-C nodded nervously. ‘The Inventor. You disable Copies. I thought you were here to disable me.’

The old man shuddered. ‘Correct. But no, I’m not here to disable you. I have a diagnostic machine that will help to read the data from your memories. With your permission, I’d like to use it to read your mind.’

118-C eyed him, then the others.

Last, she cut her eyes to Carissa. ‘Is he a friend?’

‘Yes, and also of Anya and Dom.’

‘They’re alive?’

‘And well.’

 A look of relief crossed 118-C’s face. ‘I’m glad I helped them.’ She straightened up, her expression growing stern. ‘We must try.’

Ω

They regrouped in the Inventor’s workshop. Carissa stood back while 118-C sat in a chair. The Inventor had attached magnetic discs from the machine to her NMC and communication discs. The old man turned the machine on; it whirred low. Both he and Thomas checked the screen.

The Inventor called Carissa over. ‘Miss, tell me what you’re seeing.’

He stepped back as she stepped closer. A stream of green code was displayed on the black screen. Carissa recognised the jumbled-up words as an encryption. She memorised the out-of-order words and closed her eyes to reorder them.

New words came into focus. She opened her eyes and committed more jumbled-up text to memory. A pattern unfolded in the data that would be impossible for either the Inventor or Thomas—or any human—to decipher. Alex and Jerome’s names popped up several times in the medic’s memory. Except their names had been replaced with a Praesidium designation that only the Copies would recognise.

118-C turned sharply in her chair. ‘What do you see?’

She knocked the connection loose and the data vanished.

The