There’d be no worries about soldiers not following orders to the letter, if their minds and bodies were being controlled—driven, the man had said—from afar. No more weaknesses in on-the-ground strategy and behavior. Not when the people making the decisions were safe in a suite like this. They might well be convinced.
But would anyone be asked to consent? Anavi and Devin hadn’t been. Anavi’s friend, the one the rest of the group had taken first when it started to expand, hadn’t been. In fact, from what I could tell none of the Warheads had ever been asked to do anything more than use real-sim tech, without the truth about what this experiment was intended to produce. The soldiers definitely wouldn’t be.
I’d done my homework for the story I wanted to write. Experiments of this nature, with zero informed consent? International law came down on them hard after World War II.
I looked at Anavi and Devin, beside each other, being forced to participate in this, whether they knew they were being forced or not. Their lives would be over if this experiment went forward. Their minds would never be their own.
“Get ready to bring them out,” the man said into his headset. He raised his voice, scrubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “Coming back in three . . . two . . . one . . .”
He started to turn around, and did a double take when he finally saw me standing there. “Who are you?”
“Me? I’m an interested party.” I steadied my hands on the flare. I was ready. But where was SmallvilleGuy? He’d said there would be help with the inside-the-sim part. “I’m here to stop this. Maybe you’re expecting me?”
The guy didn’t make a move, but something shifted in his face. It might have been approval. “You’re young,” he said, voice low. “I did what I told him I would in the sim, left the door wide open. He just had to put in the code I gave him, send the character to the right place. She’ll do the job.”
Before I had time to take in what that meant, the first of the tones sounded. The man stepped aside, clearing my way to the edge of the projection.
In the simulation, a round flying ship ringed with lights flew into place, the pattern cycling over and over. The Warheads began to lean forward, the eerie tones playing in sync with the lights’ visual music.
But the Warheads gasped and cringed back in their seats as Daisy the dragon flew wildly into the scene with a horrifying screech that drowned the tones, before shooting a missile directly into the ship.
Which exploded.
SmallvilleGuy had sent the cavalry, all right. He’d convinced the man to insert Daisy into the research scenario.
He hadn’t risked coming himself, but he’d gotten the help we needed. He’d completed his part in the plan.
The tones were still audible out here, cycling toward the end of the tune. The Warheads were recoiling from the fire in the real-sim, but they were watching it, trying to find the pattern they needed. The neural link must be fighting to stay alive.
Too bad.
I closed my eyes, because it was my turn.
I held the cylinder high overhead and yanked the pin free from the top, reveling in the dull boom that signaled the prism flare was activated and the extended flash of brighter-than-bright pinpoints of light on the backs of my eyelids as it blinded the room.
We’d disrupted the all-important signal, inside the game and out. Please let the theory be right.
For Anavi and Devin’s sake.
Replacing the pin, I stashed the prism flare and stumbled in their direction, waiting until the pinpricks of light were gone before opening my eyes. When I did, I saw chaos nearly as impressive as that on the fake battlefield had been.
How much worse would this be if I was coming out of a shock—like when I’d been shot on my way out of the game?
“Devin? Anavi?” I asked, grabbing their hands. “I know that had to hurt, but you have to come with me. Breathe.”
I tugged and they rose to their feet, both of them wobbly. Devin blinked, and blinked some more, focusing on me as well as he could.
“Go! Security will be here any second,” the man said, his hands over his eyes.
Annddd sure enough, an alarm began to sound, ringing and ringing and ringing.
“That’s our signal to get out of here,” I said.
“I’ll be okay . . . ” Devin shook his head once more, his eyes barely open. But he was there. “I can think. Anavi?”
She leaned against him, blinking.
Two men in security guard uniforms entered the room, and I started to steer Devin and Anavi toward the door. I shouted, “Help the kids first!”
We were close to the door by then, and staggered through it. Only to be greeted by more security guards rushing up the hall toward us.
A tall man in front slowed as he approached us. He held out a hand and said, “Everyone’s on lockdown. We’re going to need you to come back in with us and wait it out. ”
That wasn’t going to work. I had to get Anavi and Devin out of here.