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WRETCHEDLY DIVINE
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"HELLO, LYRA. I AM — "
" — Alie. I know."
Tilting her head quizzically, Lyra studies the. . . woman? Computer code? She isn't quite sure what to refer to Alie as, though she certainly looks like a woman. Alie's voice is sultry and smooth as summer, yet somehow firm as ice at the same time. Her stare is unconcerned, the woman herself lithe with calculating, feline eyes. She cocks a perfectly manicured eyebrow as she clasps her hand. Her lips are lined in the same blood red as her dress.
Lyra expects to feel crippling disappointment that this is not her mother ━━ no matter how similar Alie looks to her ━━ but she finds nothing.
In fact, she hardly feels anything at all.
"Lyra," a low, male voice hisses. "What's going on?"
Slowly, with great deliberation, Lyra turns to who'd spoken. His appearance startles her. He is tall and broad-shouldered, crowned with black curls as though they have been stained by the night sky. His deep eyes glitter apprehensively as his mouth cramps, a thin, worried line against the bronze of his skin.
"The boy," she starts to frown. Hesitantly, she glances at Alie. "Who is he?"
"Nobody important," answers Alie. Her voice is sleek as velvet. "Not to you. Not anymore."
But her voice sounds distant, as if Lyra is hearing it form underwater. Puzzled, she scrutinizes the boy again. Something about him. . .
"I know him," she utters slowly.
"Yes," agrees Alie. "I removed all your memories of him. He caused you too much pain."
Barred by her own mind, Lyra tries to think. Alie would not lie to her. Somehow, whoever this boy is, he has caused her a great deal of hurt. She studies his ashen face with a baffling calmness. If there is nothing but pain rooted in her memories of him, then she does not want to remember him.
"Lyra," he hisses again. "What's going on?"
She shrugs her shoulders casually. "Just catching up."
Curiously, she tries to see what Alie will let her remember, but it's not much and none of it is personal. Instead she had access to an event she hadn't been present for at all; when Raven had been left alone with him at Niylah's trading post.
". . . Look at you, fighting for your little Angel," Raven had sneered. She'd been chained to the bed while he watched soundlessly from the corner. "Oh, c'mon. Don't flinch when I use her pet-name. I had my fun with her once, remember?"
At that, he had visibly tensed.
Raven's smirk was bloodcurdling. "Do you know that face she makes, right before she — ?"
His jaw clenched. Raven laughed.
"Don't look so angry. A threesome would always be hot, wouldn't it?"
But before Lyra can get far enough into the memory to hear his response ━━ which looks like it'll be good because he's interrupted Raven by shooting to his feet with his fists clenched ━━ Alie interrupts.
"He's contacted the others. You are not safe here anymore."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Noah questions gruffly. "Clarke has the flame. Octavia has the map to Luna."
"I cannot risk losing Lyra as I did Raven," Alie responds coolly. "You hid the second rover in the woods. I need you to go retrieve it — Lyra needs to go to Polis, where we can protect her."
"What're my orders?" Lyra asks.
Alie nods towards the boy. "Distract him."
Lyra smirks dangerously at him.
The boy ━━ she still cannot remember his name━━ bristles under her flippant gaze.
"We've certainly got a history, don't we?" He doesn't say anything, so she takes a step closer to him. "That was a rhetorical question, by the way. I don't remember much. Actually, I don't remember anything at all. . . but that's for the best, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow. "Get the fuck out of her head, Alie."
"Oh, this isn't Alie. It's me, LJ, Lyra Jupiter, Angel, Spacewalker," says Lyra evenly, a sultry smile spreading across her face. "Does that scare you? Seeing me with some balls? Because Christ on a cracker, I'm soft, aren't I? Crying all the time, always worried about people's precious little feelings. It's pathetic."
"Let her go, Alie," he growls, as if he hasn't gotten the memo that this is Lyra now.
He takes a step forward, but Lyra dances back just as quickly. Fishing a knife from her pocket, she holds it to her wrist with a silly little smile. He stops dead in his tracks, looking horrified.
"That's right. You wouldn't want me to hurt myself, would you?" She asks, cackling at his distress. "What is it that you like about me so much, soldier? My little doe eyes? Or maybe it's my tragic little life — or maybe it's because you feel needed when you're with me. Because your little sister's all grown up now, isn't she? A real killing machine. She doesn't need you — not that she even wants you."
Though he still looks terrified she might hurt herself, he manages to inhale sharply. "I've already played this game. I'm not doing it again."
"But I'm not really giving you a choice," Lyra coos, as if speaking with a child. "So that's why you like me, huh? You like feeling needed. Like you have to protect me. . . not that it's really working out for you."
"LYRA!"
Lyra's head snaps up. Several hundreds of yards away, at the gates of Arkadia, she can make out a blur of silhouettes. She knows at once who they must be: Octavia, Miller, Bryan, and Harper. The four other fighters.
She starts to dig the tip of her knife into her wrist.
"NO!" He shouts at them. His eyes don't leave Lyra once as he jerks out a hand to brace her, as if she's a wild animal. "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"
"Good boy," Lyra says sweetly. She gives him an appraising glance. "I can see why I like you."
He stiffens.
"God, look at those cheekbones.And I can only imagine what you're hiding under that shirt," simpers Lyra. She hums in approval. "Not to mention those eyes. Dark and mysterious and brooding. . . and yet thoughtful and tortured. Sensitive. Every pathetic girl's dream."
"Imagine?" He asks. "You've seen it."
She frowns. "What are you — "
As quick as lightning, he charges her.
Distracted by his question, Lyra doesn't notice him until it's too late. Furiously he grabs her by the shoulders, pushing her down to the Earth. Gripping her knife, she tumbled, then stares back up at him. Bellamy looms dangerously overhead.
"What happened?" Lyra squeaks suddenly, doe eyes wide and afraid.
He surrenders immediately. "Lyra! Lyra, are you — "
She drives her knee into his crotch and then strikes him in the face. He rolls back, face streaked with blood. She'd struck him in the nose.
"Guess we found out which one of us was the brains," says Lyra dryly.
"Careful," Alie warns her. "He is a skilled combatant and should not be taken lightly. Even with my help, I estimate your chances of winning a fight against him to be under five percent."
"What?" Lyra's mouth drops. "I'm not that bad at fighting. . . am I?"
"You are," he grunts, pushing himself up from the dirt. He wipes the blood from his dirt smeared face, looking rather disgruntled.
"Whatever. There's a darkness in me, you know." She grins wolfishly. "Been here for a while now. I can feel it."
He manages to roll his eyes. "Alie clearly doesn't know you."
"Yeah. . ." She shrugs. "Or you don't."
He frowns. She smiles sweetly.
"Clearly I'm not living up to my full potential," continues Lyra. "I could be something great. . . instead I've just been playing therapist for you and your sister."
"She already is something great," he insists. He still doesn't seem to grasp the fact that it's Lyra who he's been talking to. "She's saved my life more times then I can count. She's saved all of our lives more times then I can count — "
He's cut short. There's a great roar that rumbles through the trees, white lights flashing in the darkness.
"What is that?" He demands.
She grins again. "Looks like my ride is here."
Holding the knife so that it's along the edges of her throat ━━ strangely enough near a shallow gash that she does not recall receiving ━━ she considers her wrists briefly. There are a few dull red scorch marks, as if she's somehow been burned, and she fights the urge to smirk. More pain she can't remember.
The second rover crashes through the trees, tires squealing. Noah sits at the wheel and he thrusts the vehicle into reverse. The hatch doors at the back are wide open and swinging wildly.
Slowly but surely, Lyra begins to back up, pulling herself into the back. Her eyes don't leave his once and he looks utterly terrified as she starts to leave. She smirks wickedly.
"See you around," she says smoothly before adopting that usual soft, simpering, pathetic voice of hers. "Lover boy."
*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
THE DRIVE FROM Arkadia to Polis is several hours. Lyra spends them in the City of Light.
She emerges from the underground road and into the soft daylight with a broad grin. It's much different from being anywhere on Earth. Even her appearance has changed ━━ her hair, which is now clean, has been pulled back into two chestnut pigtails that bounce against her back. Clad in a simple oversized jacket, jeans, and a pair of sneakers more stylish than practical, she studies her new form curiously. Her nails have been painted over and all her scars have simply vanished. Every single sign of the way she has fought tooth and nail for her own survival on Earth has simply just vanished.
As if she'd never fought at all.
The cacophony of the City of Light buzzes pleasantly all around her. A forest of steely skyscrapers tower above her, sidewalks webbing out as far as the eye can see. There is a great body of water in the distance. Lyra walks up the small slope of the road to better view the terrain. Sauntering to and fro across the city are people, most of whom she does not recognize. She isn't nearly close enough to make out their faces, either. Lyra stands there, a silly smile stretching over her face. The air simply radiates peace.
"Lyra Jupiter. It was a pleasure to hear you joined our ranks."
Jaha approaches her cheerfully with a hand outstretched. Lyra shakes it briskly. Behind him is both Abby and Kane.
"Nicer than the real world, isn't it?" Kane asks.
She bobs her head. "Yeah. And isn't it cool how these aren't even our physical forms? I mean now we're physics subroutines and collision meshes, we're code, Kane! The possibilities are endless!"
"Welcome to the City of Light, kid," says Kane with a kind smile.
"Do you know what this means?" Lyra asks. Her excitement begins to mount. "It falls in line with the simulation theory from Descartes, Moravec, and Nick Bostrom! The quailia experienced by a stimulated consciousness here is comparable or equivalent to those of a naturally occurring human consciousness, like a quantum computer or — "
"Lyra," Jaha interrupts kindly. "We have a job for you."
"On it," she answers immediately. Then her cheeks go pink. "Er, what is it, sir?"
"The backpack is Alie's main power source, but it makes her vulnerable," explains Abby with a smile more meant for a child than a seventeen year old. Not that Lyra minds. "She needs to upgrade her code to the Ring. Can you do it?"
"Are there more trees on Earth than stars in the Milky Way?" Lyra asks. When all three look at her blankly, she grins. "Yes. Of course I can, doc."
"Perfect," says Alie. Her heels clack against the asphalt as she strides towards them. "This will greatly improve migration rates."
"Almost perfect," Lyra corrects her reluctantly. "Bellamy and Clarke are still trying to get the flame into Luna. And there's the matter of someone — probably Raven — completely deleting your code. There was a backdoor password in Becca's book."
"The moment she uses it, I will know," answers Alie smoothly.
"Of course," says Lyra. She shakes her head. "That's a dumb thing to worry about. But. . . "
"But what?" Alie questions.
"To upload your code, I need access to both Becca's pod and your code source, your backpack," says Lyra apologetically. "I can't help you until I'm in Polis."
Jaha nods, not seeming worried at all. He pats her shoulder affectionately. "Then let's get you here."
*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
TWO DAYS PASS ━━ Lyra spends them in the City of Light.
Ice cream cone in one hand, Noah's in the other, Lyra bounces down the steep steps at the heart of the city. The alloy skyscrapers shimmer hazily in the afternoon sun. Her hair and clothes ruffle slightly in the breeze as her backpack jostles between her shoulder blades, stuffed with textbooks, journals, and a laptop. She looks over at her dad; this is how things were always meant to be. For the first time, they are happy.
She smiles.
Jaha and Alie are at the bottom of the steps. Numerous pathways and sidewalks spindle out from it, civilians trotting back and forth with pleasant faces. She recognizes some of them now; Briggs, Grant, Cooper, all from Arkadia.
"Noah!" A familiar voice calls.
"Marcus!" Noah ruffles his daughter's hair. "I'd better keep him outta trouble. Be good, kiddo. I love you."
"Love you too!" Lyra calls after him.
Jaha and Alie are speaking with a woman who must be a Trikru warrior from the markings on her face. And yet instead of Grounder garb, she's wearing clothes from the twenty-first century, from before the bombs went off. Flats, jeans, a rather fancy coat that goes past her knees. Her hair falls back in elaborate braids. But before Lyra can catch up to them, the woman is already walking away, still smiling.
"They're going for the backpack," says Alie.
Lyra's brow creases. She knows who Alie is talking about. Indra, Pike, and John Murphy. Admittedly, Lyra was surprised to hear he was not only still alive, but in Polis. But lo and behold, John Murphy is, and now he's fighting the City of Light.
She wishes he wouldn't. She never knew him well, but she knows his life has been harder than most. And all Lyra has ever wanted was for people to be happy.
"Then we delay the migration," Jaha responds.
"Negative, sir, it's almost complete," says Lyra. "I'm doing the finishing touches."
"How much longer?" Alie asks.
"I've finished decrypting the Go-Sci Ring's mainframe," answers Lyra. "The backpack is connected to the pod, which is connected to the ring, thank God. We're lucky that Becca made all the tech for the Ark."
"We're lucky we have you," Jaha says.
"Yeah," she agrees cheerfully. "I'm going through named-entity recognition right now. It's just a sub task of information extraction. That means it seeks to locate and classify named entities mentioned in unstructured text into pre-defined categories such as person names, organizations, locations, medical codes, time expressions. You know. The usual."
He stares at her blankly. She licks her ice cream. It's strawberry.
"We still need to give you time," Jaha decides.
Alie nods. "We'll use Emori again."
A girl seems to materialize out of thin air. She sucks in a deep breath as she takes in her new surroundings. She wears a pea coat that is a deep olive with fancy boots. Dark locks cascade down her back, freshly washed, with several thin braids looping through it. Her face is round, her cheeks pink. The only bizarre part of her appearance that does not seem to match the rest of her is the thick tattoo spiraling across the right half of her face.
Beaming, Lyra hugs her. "Emori!"
"LJ!" Emori gives her a warm smile as she pulls away. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Emori," greets Jaha politely. He glances down at her misshapen hand that really is more of an elongated lump of flesh. "You know, you can correct your defects here."
"I would, if I had any," counters Emori, not unpleasantly.
Lyra smiles again. She's only known Emori for two days, but she really likes her. Emori came to the City of Light for someone she cares about too, just like Lyra ━━ John Murphy.
Emori glances at the woman in the red dress. "What can I do for you, Alie?"
"Your friend, John Murphy, is headed back to the temple to do harm," says Alie in her usual crisp, sleek voice. "I need your help to stop him."
Emori nods. She gives Lyra a grin. "See you in a minute."
Lyra grins. Blinks.
And then she is back in the real world.
Or the temple, to be more precise.
A hulking fortress carved from crumbling stone hidden deep within the heart of Polis, the Grounder's capital city. The city itself is hardly more than ruins, relics of the past, but nowhere is that more noticeable than at the temple. The very core of their religion. A flame-birthed shrine casts golden shadows against the walls marked with charcoal, flickering with fading heat. The mutilated exoskeleton of the pod Becca Pramheda had taken down to earth careens at the heart of the room, haloed in a molten gold.
Lyra's physical body has been there for hours and now her consciousness returns to it.
She stirs to life with a soft gasp. Firelight warms her, and despite the fact that she is criss-cross on the stone floor, she does not feel cold. In her lap sits Alie's metal alloy backpack, connected to the pod. And her backpack is incredible ━━ a quantum computer powered by a nuclear fuel cell.
Alie strides across the chamber to the two chipped guards posted; Briggs and Grant. "Remember, don't shoot to kill. We need them."
"Why did your creator leave you?" Lyra asks Alie curiously.
"I do not know," says Alie slowly. She is not programmed to show emotion, and yet Lyra feels as if she sounds almost. . . sad. "But when I see her again, I will ask her."
"You really think we'll get to meet her?" Lyra asks eagerly.
Because Becca Pramheda is the stuff of legend, both to the Grounders and to Lyra. No one has done more for the field of sciences and technologies than Becca Pramheda. She created a new gene that bred nightblood. Not to mention she accidentally created an entire religion. All while simultaneously creating artificial intelligence that has lasted hundreds of years.
Lyra would do anything to meet her.
"Yes. She is in the flame, I am certain of it," Alie informs her. "And if I'm right, it contains the minds of all those to whom it was connected. Beginning with our creator."
Lyra almost frowns. Our. . . ?
Several gunshots ring out. Typically Lyra would have felt some fear, probably she would have screamed a little, but now. . . well, now she feels nothing. Standing beside Emori ━━ whose back in her Grounder regalia, complete with a grey head wrap ━━ she turns to face their attackers.
Indra. Pike. John Murphy.
"No, no, no!" Murphy exclaims abruptly, forcing Pike to lower his firearm. "Not them."
"Lyra," Indra looks surprised, and then disgusted, by Lyra's presence. Her heavily scarred mouth pulls into a scowl. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
"Bar the door," Murphy orders lowly. He's frowning at Indra. "They know we're here."
Casting one last scathing glance at Lyra, Indra makes her way across the chamber to the heavy oaken doors. Their little rag tag group hadn't come from those main doors and, puzzled, Lyra tilts her head as she watches Indra slam the iron slab to bar the doors. There must be some other entrance into the temple.
"I'll get their guns," Pike grunts. "We're gonna need them."
He walks towards Lyra carefully, as if nervous to be around her. She gives him a smile. He looks unnerved and walks faster towards the bodies.
Meanwhile, Murphy's eyes flicker over her. "You're powering the pod."
"What about the secret passageway?" Pike questions. He's retrieving the firearms from the two men he'd just slaughtered, though Lyra's not particularly worried about them. "They'll know about that now. I'll lock it up."
"No, don't," Murphy responds. "They didn't see us come in. Besides, we need that later to escape."
He looks at Lyra one more time, as if still in disbelief at the fact that he is really and truly seeing her, Lyra Jupiter. Gazing back up at him from beneath her oily lashes with doe eyes, she smiles back up at him innocently enough.
He turns away from her and Emori quickly. Starts to walk away. Mutters, "Thank you, Titus."
Crossing the chamber in several great strides, he heaves something metal from one of the walls. He whirls back around with what Lyra discovers is a rusted crowbar.
"Give me the backpack, Lyra."
She shakes her head childishly. "No."
"C'mon, don't make this any harder than it needs to be," Murphy says lowly. "I've had a rough morning. Started off in jail, found out my girlfriend was chipped by a psycho robot, and, hey! I'm probably going to end up getting tortured later, because I always end up getting tortured, for some reason."
"If you don't take the key to the City of Light, I can always kiss it better," she teases.
"Real cute," he says flatly. "Unfortunately, I think a certain someone would cut off the part of me that makes me a man if I say yes, and I happen to like that particular part of me. So give me the damn backpack, let me destroy it, and we can all be home before lunchtime."
"With what, the crowbar?" Lyra asks loftily. "This is a nuclear fuel cell, John. You'll irradiate the entire city."
Murphy's face falls.
"So how do we destroy it?" Indra demands.
It's Pike who answers solemnly. "Carefully."
It takes a beat, and then Murphy makes a face.
"Great. Now we have to do this the hard way," he mutters. He glances at Lyra, and then starts to almost smirk. "Y'know, getting to see the look on his face would make this worth it."
She glances up at him. "Make what worth it?"
The answer to her question turns out to be not so great ━━ mainly because she is tied to a chair.
Then again, Lyra supposes she should look on the bright side of things. They haven't tried to torture her yet (though she suspects they already know it wouldn't work, anyways). Also, Emori is chained to the chair right beside her. And neither of them have been gagged yet! Lyra sees that as a win.
Watching Pike try to deactivate the nuclear fuel cell is nothing short of hilarious. He is an idiot. Lyra could've done the job in, like, 20 minutes or something.
"You really should've just stuck to guns," she calls cheerfully from her chair. Then she casts a sly look at Indra. "Or maybe not. That is how you killed 300 of her people, isn't it?"
Though Lyra cannot make out Indra's facial expressions because her back is turned to her, the warrior stiffens. Lyra's mouth curls into a grin. It wouldn't take much to have all three of them at each other's throats, fighting one another. Pike and Indra are two obvious enemies; Grounder warrior and the Skaikru butcher. Meanwhile, Pike and Murphy have a rocky history. Y'know, with the whole Earth Skills situation and everything. And though Indra and Murphy haven't got anything against each other, Lyra's sure she could find something. . .
Murphy looks frustrated. "Think I liked you better as a peacemaker."
"Hurry," Indra calls from the doors. There is a shadow of anger in her words and Lyra knows she'd struck a nerve. "This door won't past much longer."
"You're going to have to pick up a gun, then," retorts Pike as he continues trying to dismantle the fuel cell.
Something slams against the door. One of theirs, no doubt, probably Noah or Kane. Jaha is still searching for the secret entrance, as Alie had informed Lyra and Emori only minutes ago.
Yet somehow, Murphy only has eyes for Emori.
Her expression is vacant as she gazes back at him. "You're all going to die here, John."
*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
WITH THE BLINK of an eye, Lyra finds herself back in the City of Light.
She has been brought to the citadel. Night has fallen in the outer city and, standing atop the catwalk spiraling over the glassy building, she tries to search for stars in the night sky. There are none.
"Hurry, Lyra," Alie urges her as she approaches. For some odd reason, her heels are soundless even against the floor. "The migration is not yet complete."
"It almost is," Lyra reassures her. "Pike doesn't know we're uploading your code to the Ring. He didn't even think to disconnect the backpack from the pod. I finished all the calculations — your code is being processed. It will be another 10 minutes."
"We're still searching for the tunnel entrance," Jaha informs them both, striding across the bridge. "When the guards break down the door, I'll be there."
"Good," says Alie. "John Murphy was with Clarke Griffin when they removed the second AI from the last Commander. If she won't help us insert it into Luna, we'll need him alive."
"What will you do with Clarke?" Lyra asks hesitantly.
"I will give her the same choice as the rest," says Alie curtly. "Join us or — "
Suddenly, the woman's back goes rigid. She is unable to express alarm, and yet even Lyra can tell that something has gone wrong.
"What is it?" Jaha questions.
Alie's features are stiff. "Someone is accessing my code with an administrative login."
"Monty," Lyra breathes out in horror. She turns to Alie in panic. "The intrusion is coming from Arkadia and the login was coded by Becca — there was a backdoor password. You won't be able to log her out. You need to disconnect from Arkadia — now!"
"That would be unwise," Alie responds swiftly. "The migration is still incomplete. And the backpack is now compromised. Without Arkadia's mainframe, the mobile unit would be my sole power source. If they destroy it, I will be terminated."
Lyra cannot be sure, but she thinks she might actually hear a tremor of anxiety in Alie's voice.
Alie's dark eyes regard her with some hint of disconcertment. "They're inside the Citadel."
"If it's Monty," begins Jaha slowly. "I can stop him."
"How?" Alie questions at once.
"His mother."
"So many doors are locked, but they're going to be able to decode them," says Lyra anxiously. "He won't be working alone. Raven Reyes is with him. I know she is."
"This cannot distract you," Alie tells her. She grasps Lyra's shoulder. Her touch is cold. "You have to get my code to the Ark's Ring. Hurry!"
Nodding swiftly, Lyra pivots and hurries across the galleria. Crowds of other citizens of the City of Light drift by; shoppers, pedestrians, workers, business men and women, people simply just trying to enjoy their night. Lyra knows despairingly that their happiness will not last much longer if Raven and Monty manage to get into the City of Light. They will destroy everything.
Her heels clack noisily against the glossy floors as she strides down a spotless corridor. Her two chestnut pigtails sway just below her shoulders and she offers sultry smiles to anyone she passes. Whatever it is that Monty and Raven have planned, it won't work. Lyra won't let them take this away from her.
She approaches a pair of tall glass doors that are guarded by two broad-shouldered men with blank faces. They wear haughty sunglasses, covering their thick tattoos that denote which clan they belong to. Not that it matters. Here, there are no clans. There is no Skaikru.
"Miss. Jupiter," the taller of the security guards dips his head. "Right this way, ma'am."
He pushes one of the gleaming doors open for her. Lyra strides through without looking back. She glides into the Citadel's headquarters where there are rows of monitors, green codes flashing across inky screens. Lyra has only one computer in mind and her vulpine eyes pick it out immediately, the monitor gracing an office at the very heart of the topmost floor of the Citadel. A massive window makes up the back wall and allows for a spectacular view of the bustling city.
She plugs a drive for Alie's code into the computer, fingers flying rapidly across the keyboard. She has to speed up the transmission of Alie's code or they will all be out of time.
On one of the other monitors, she can see Hannah Green speaking with Monty. His eyes are red. He looks like he might cry.
Code flashes across all the laptops. Hannah's face stamped out. One word over and over. Deleted. Deleted. Deleted.
Monty had terminated his mother's code.
Lyra's face pales. She can see Raven's code pushing through the decrypted files. Somehow she's pushed past Hannah's deleted code and is going through the doors rapidly. The mechanic-turned-coder is quickly approaching what is the kill switch. . .
Raven's about to pull it.
But she is a second too late.
Lyra jams the enter button on her own monitor, and then it is done. Alie is disconnected from Arkadia's mainframe and, suddenly, neither Raven or Monty have access to her anymore.
And that's not all. The migration was a success. The transmission from the escape pod is complete.
Lyra put Alie on the Ark.
*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
"YOU HAVE DONE WELL, Lyra Jupiter. Our creator would be proud."
The dull Ark corridors are illuminated by the vast panoramic starboard window, arrogantly displaying the inky void of space that is pockmarked by silver molten stars. The swirling blue ball of Earth stares back at Lyra as she presses her hands against the glass.
She'd almost forgotten how beautiful space was.
"Would you like to take your spacewalk? You have waited a long time for this."
Lyra is in her spacesuit again, for the first time in two years. Draped in moonlight and shadows and astronaut gear. She half feels like her bones might burst from her skin in excitement as the cosmos crackle in her eyes. A smile begins to curl through her lips as the shock of it all begins to buzz through her veins like electricity.
Two years. She has spent two years waiting to return to the stars.
And now she is here.
At last.
But she shakes her head. "I can wait a little bit longer. Only my consciousness is here. If I take it now. . . it'll just be in my head. It won't be real."
Alie scrutinizes her face. "That is not the only reason."
Lyra dips her head reluctantly. "It feels wrong. I feel wrong. Almost like I'm missing something. . . "
Anxious to change the subject, she looks to Alie again. "Why is it so important for everyone to take the chip now? Can't we give them time to adjust?"
"Humanity has run out of time," says Alie quietly.
Lyra's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
"That is not important right now," answers Alie smoothly. "You will find out when you are ready."
Unable to feel anything like confusion or frustration, Lyra simply goes quiet. If it was anything that she needed to know, Alie would let her know.
Beside her, Alie regards the Earth with something almost like regret.
But Lyra can wait. Even if humanity is out of time, she herself is not.
She is beyond that now.
*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
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