“Clear,” said Sahara. “Hit it.”
Marisa hit the button, initiating a full system update. The server contacted every Bluescreen user, told their djinnis to force a virus scan, and thus began methodically deleting itself from every user’s head. Marisa watched the screens, holding her breath, praying it would work. Sahara stood next to her, holding her hand and watching with her.
“Where’d you leave Anja?” Marisa asked.
“In the back corner of the lot,” said Sahara. “Bao’s watching her.”
“But she’s free again,” said Marisa. “The algorithm’s in control, and she’ll attack him again.”
Sahara nodded. “So let’s hope this—” She pointed at one of the screens. “It’s working.” The puppets were slowing, some of them stopping outright, or even falling over. The gangsters, practically allies at this point in the battle, protecting each other from the endless horde of puppets, stopped as well, watching in wonder as the mindless army went limp. The puppets blinked, stared, swooned; some of them lost their balance, while others screamed in horror at their sudden awareness of where they were, and what they were doing. Marisa called Anja, weeping in joy when she heard her voice.
“Mari,” said Anja. She sounded exhausted—her voice raw and broken—but she was alive. “Did you do it?”
“We did it,” said Marisa. “It’s all over.”
“Not all,” said Sahara. “We need to destroy these servers—we need to make sure none of this can ever happen again.”
“Drop the firewall and give me access,” said Jaya. She sounded exhausted as well. “I just fought this gaandu system for thirty solid minutes—I’m going to do things to it that’ll give my own computer nightmares.”
“We can’t risk it,” said Marisa. “None of this can be allowed to hit the net, even in a cache somewhere. It has to die here, and physically.”
“It will be my pleasure,” said Omar, and fired a shot into each server in turn.
“No!” screamed Lal. Marisa turned, seeing Lal awake and struggling with his bonds. The cables held, and she turned back to the screens without a word.
“That’s a good start,” said Sahara, “but give me an hour with a fire axe and I can be gruesomely thorough.”
“No time,” said Marisa. “Anja, how are you doing?”
“I’m pretty broken up,” said Anja. “I’m going to pass out now, and I sincerely hope I wake up in a hospital.”
“We’ll get you there,” said Bao.
Marisa looked at the monitors again; the Tì Xū Dāo gangsters were leaving, and so were the enforcers, probably terrified that the momentary peace would end at any second. Calaca, barely walking, led the remnants of La Sesenta resolutely toward the building. “They’re going to tear this place apart,” said Marisa. “We don’t want to be here when they get in.”
“What do we do with him?” asked Omar, gesturing to Lal with his handgun.
“You’ve got to save me,” said Lal. “You need your money back—I can get it for you, just don’t destroy my servers, and don’t leave me for the cops—”
“We’re not just going to leave you,” said Sahara, “we’re going to leave you in pieces. Where’s that fire axe?”
“We don’t need to hurt him,” said Marisa. “He’s already hurt himself.”
“Spare me the moralizing,” Lal spat. “How have I hurt myself—by forgetting the power of friendship? By losing you? I thought you had more vision than this, Marisa, but you’re a useless little girl. I have plenty of other thugs on the payroll, and when they get here—”
“Oh no!” Marisa formed her mouth into a perfect O, looking as falsely concerned as she could. “Did you go online?”
“Of course I went online, you stupid bi—”
“I told you not call me that,” said Marisa. “Which is only one of the many, many reasons I took the liberty of deleting your security software.”
“You—” he spluttered. “How?”
“I was in your head,” said Marisa. “It’s a pretty nasty place, but trust me, it’s about to get a whole lot nastier.” She looked at Sahara. “He’s been online . . . ten seconds now? Twenty? How many computer viruses do you think he has by now?”
“Depends on his service provider,” said Sahara, copying Marisa’s tone of mock concern. “Johara, I assume?”
“Naturally,” said Marisa.
“That’s a very popular target,” said Sahara. “Those satellite pathways are crawling with malware—none of it’s all that dangerous if you’ve got a good security system, but . . .”