Chapter 20 #2
“We can’t. But the nexus is semi-autonomous.
It maintains itself.” His expression was complicated.
“This is the heart of the system. The origin point. It has remained operational even as the rest of the network descended into chaos. Like I said, we are the descendants of those who cleaned and maintained the facilities, not the ones who designed and operated them. I don’t know when this place was abandoned, but it was left with care. ”
We moved deeper into the tower, and I felt like we were entering something alive. The walls hummed with power, and the patterns covering every surface shifted and changed as we passed.
The main control room was on the fifth level.
It was circular, with workstations arranged around a central platform that held what looked like the primary interface—a large, crystalline structure that glowed with internal light.
Screens covered the walls, most of them dark, but two displayed data in scripts I couldn’t read.
“This is it,” I said, my voice echoing in the vast space. “This is where we make our stand.”
I started organizing immediately, because if I didn’t stay busy, I was going to panic. “Thresk, I need you and the other Kythrans at the interface. You understand the system architecture. You’ll be operating the controls.”
The Kythrans moved to their positions with evident relief. This was familiar territory for them, even if they’d never been successful before.
“Vikkat, I need your warriors positioned around the room. We’ll need to collect the codes from your marks, one at a time.” I looked at Dorek, who was glowering. “Including you. I know you don’t like it, but we need every unique pattern we can get.”
“And me?” Torven asked.
“You stay where I can see you and try not to reinjure yourself.” I softened my tone. “We’ll need your marks too, but let me figure out the input system first.”
I moved to one of the workstations with Thresk and he started explaining the interface.
The language was foreign to me. My implant couldn’t translate what I saw, only what I heard.
Since my body wasn’t too fond of implants in general, I’d opted to not get the optical module.
It would have been very helpful just then.
Probably worth the extra headaches it would have caused me.
But Thresk read to me what I couldn’t interpret, speaking out the mathematical formulas and explaining the linguistic symbols.
Together, it created a hybrid code that I would have loved to dive into and study for weeks until I fully comprehended it.
But I didn’t have weeks.
“Thresk, can you walk me through the basic control structure?”
For the next thirty minutes, I got a crash course in ancient Kythran engineering from beings who’d spent their entire lives trying to understand it.
It was brilliant and terrifying in equal measure.
The system was designed with layers upon layers of redundancy, with autonomous decision-making processes that could override manual inputs if they detected what they perceived as errors.
Which meant if we got this wrong, the system would fight us.
“Okay,” I said finally. “We need to input the control codes in a specific sequence. Thresk, your people will operate the primary interface. I’ll coordinate the code input from this terminal. Vikkat, we’re going to need to document each unique mark pattern from your warriors.”
“How?” Vikkat asked.
I’d been thinking about that. “Physical contact. Just like when Thresk touched Torven’s marks, he activated and revealed the code.
We’ll need each of your warriors to allow a Kythran to touch their marks so the Kythran can read them off and we can input them.
” I indicated a panel that the Kythrans had identified as a biometric reader.
The D’tran exchanged uncomfortable looks. Letting Kythrans touch their sacred marks was not something any of them were happy with, even if it might be the key to saving the planet.
“I know it’s difficult,” I said. “I know these marks have deep cultural and personal significance. But without the codes they contain, we can’t shut down the system. And if we don’t shut it down, there won’t be anyone left to care about the significance.”
Vikkat was the first to step forward. He shrugged off his cloak, then his shirt, and stretched out his arms. The marks covered much of them, and there were several on his chest and back. “Take them,” he said stoically. “My warriors will comply.”
I watched as a Kythran touched the marks, and held my breath as the patterns shifted and reorganized, revealing the codes beneath. The Kythran quietly read them, and Thresk and I entered them into the console.
One by one, the other D’tran followed. Even Dorek, though his face was thunderous as he submitted to the touch of a Kythran.
When it was Torven’s turn, I guided him to the scanner myself. “You okay?”
“Never better.” The lie was obvious, but I appreciated the effort.
His marks activated, and I watched for the second time as the code flowed across my mate’s neck. It was different from the D’tran codes—more complex, with additional elements that I realized were the Destran version.
“That’s everyone,” I said, looking at the database we’d compiled. “Thresk, are you ready?”
The Kythran elder nodded from the central platform. “We input the codes into the primary system, yes?”
“In the sequence I’m sending you now.” I transferred the file, then double-checked the protocol one more time.
Something was nagging at me—a warning message that had flashed briefly on one of the screens when I’d been setting up the input sequence.
When I’d tried to examine it more closely, it disappeared.
Probably just a diagnostic notification. The system was ancient. It probably threw up warning messages constantly.
“Everyone ready?” I asked.
A chorus of affirmatives came back. The Kythrans were positioned at the interface. The D’tran were watching tensely from around the room. Torven was beside me, his hand on my shoulder for support—his or mine, I wasn’t sure.
“Then let’s save a planet.” I initiated the sequence.
The response was immediate. The crystalline structure at the center of the platform lit up like a star.
The patterns on every surface in the room began to move, flowing like water toward the interface.
The Kythrans’ hands moved over the controls, and I watched as the codes we’d collected began inputting into the system.
For a moment, I thought it was working. The screens showed what looked like acknowledgment protocols, the system accepting the input codes.
Then everything went wrong.
The building shook. Not a gentle vibration, but a violent lurch that sent me stumbling into Torven. Alarms began to wail, and the screens that had been showing acknowledgment protocols suddenly filled with what I recognized as error messages and defensive warnings.
“What’s happening?” Vikkat shouted over the noise.
I stared at the screens, my blood running cold as I took in the messages. I didn’t need to read them to understand what all the red errors meant. “The system knows what we’re trying to do. It’s interpreting our shutdown attempt as an attack.”
Another violent shake, and I heard the sound of structural damage from somewhere above us. Through the windows, I could see the weather outside intensifying at an impossible rate. The wind that had been strong was now apocalyptic, tearing at the landscape with visible fury.
The nexus tower groaned, and I felt the floor tilt slightly beneath my feet.
“It’s defending itself,” I said, horror dawning. “The autonomous system is defending itself by making the weather worse. It’s using the atmospheric instability as a weapon against us.”
“Can you stop it?” Torven’s grip on my shoulder tightened.
I looked at the screens, at the cascade of defensive protocols activating, at the weather readings that were climbing to levels that shouldn’t be possible. The system wasn’t just rejecting our input—it was actively counterattacking.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
The tower shook again, harder this time, and something in the ceiling cracked with a sound like a gunshot. One of the D’tran warriors cursed.
The system was going to tear itself apart before it let us shut it down. And it was going to take us with it.