Chapter Eleven In Which Zada Struggles Not to Come to a Conclusion #2
“He’s been caught?”
“His family name has spared him so far,” said Zada. “And they say he has a good way to go before he exhausts the family coffers, but if the wrong person apprehends him, well. The possibility of discovery looms. You know what else?”
“I know that’s certainly the most interesting fact there is about Christopher,” volunteered Daphne. “Talking to him feels like when your foot falls asleep, only it’s your brain. It’s ghastly.”
Zada pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a good program. She’d done a good job. “I didn’t make a mistake,” she said at last.
“I know that,” said Daphne.
“And you didn’t make a mistake, about student numbers,” said Zada.
“That’s correct.”
“The less advantageous individuals get paired off with each other,” Zada finished.
“And the more well-behaved, the more promising, and—above all—the richer people are partnered up, too.” She waved a hand at the tiny pinpoints of light.
“This isn’t a map showing soulmates,” she said.
“This is exactly how it would look if the wealthy and powerful wanted to make sure they stayed that way.”
“Well, shit,” said Daphne.
Zada nodded. “I need to sit down,” she said.
“I’ll get you a—” Daphne broke off as Zada folded to the floor.
“How does this happen?” said Zada. “A mistake of this magnitude.”
“Do you really think it’s a mistake?” said Daphne.
Zada stared up at her, at her dark brown eyes and the cowlick in her hair that always stood straight up, the growing certainty and the stars glowing across her face.
“It’s—” Zada’s breath caught in her throat. “You think it’s not?”
“How could someone screw up like this?” said Daphne. “How could this possibly happen by accident?”
“If the wrong number was plugged into the wrong algorithm,” said Zada. Her heart was beginning to beat very fast.
“How?” said Daphne. “Everything is triple-checked. Heartsong is a function of the Core. It’s not like someone could go, ‘oops, I spilled BBQ cola everywhere, now thanks to my slip-up, everybody marries the person with an identical amount of clout!’” She huffed a laugh.
“Don’t joke,” said Zada. She meant for the words to sound sharp but it felt a lot more desperate to her ears.
“Don’t take the only tool I have for dealing with this even a very little bit,” said Daphne. “It’s jokes or screaming. Believe me, jokes are the better option.”
“How else could this happen?” said Zada. The floor was cold and hard beneath her. “Like you said, it’s all triple-checked. A lone criminal couldn’t get away with it, either.”
Daphne crouched down, bringing their faces back to the same level. “I know,” she said. “I know.”
Zada swallowed. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said again.
“What’s worse is, maybe it does,” said Daphne.
“One person’s mistake couldn’t do this. It would be caught and solved.
One person’s crime wouldn’t be enough, either.
It would need to be people—maybe a lot of people—working together, knowing what they were doing.
Someone has been corrupting Heartsong for at least twenty years. ”
“No,” said Zada. “If they could get into Heartsong and change it, then they could change anything. Anything in the Core.”
Daphne and Zada locked eyes.
“All of the Founders’ wisdom,” Zada heard herself say. “All of their superior judgment. It would all be perverted. We couldn’t rely on any of it.”
“Oh god,” said Daphne, “all the court cases—”
“Exactly,” said Zada. “Court cases, hiring for jobs, school admissions—every place we’ve used the Core’s judgment, for two whole decades. We’d have to throw out everything.”
Daphne’s eyes were wide. “We’ve jailed people based on what the algorithm told us the Founders would’ve wanted. We’ve Extricated people.”
“Yeah,” Zada said grimly. “I don’t know how we’d even start to untangle this. Some of it, if we fix the algorithm, we can undo part of the damage. Reassess who’s just been accepted to the academies, things like that. But the ones we’ve sent away—”
Daphne shuddered, and Zada knew they were sharing the same thought. When it came to people like Daphne’s mom, there was no way to know whether they were even still alive.
“Shit,” muttered Zada.
In the feverish past few hours, at no point had she stopped to seriously consider it could all be intentional, part of some sinister plan. The thought of someone purposely puppeting the Founders’ consciousness—the closest word she could summon was obscene.
“You all right?” Daphne was saying.
Zada shook her head.
Daphne winced. “I hate to say it,” she muttered, “but I think it’s actually worse. Because whether or not this was an accident, this is big enough that there’s no way someone at the top isn’t aware of it.”
“Right,” said Zada. “And if it’s known, it’s almost certainly documented. Someone on the inside must be aware this is happening.”
“Mozelle Drogace,” said Daphne, snapping her fingers.
“Who’s that?”
“She’s been the administrator of Heartsong for thirty years,” she said. “And the head of programming, too. If anyone knows, she will.”
“Okay,” said Zada, “but how do we access her feed without sneaking into her house and snatching the Gem off her bedside table? I don’t think I’m cut out for—for home invasion. I would be a terrible villain. I don’t even look good in black.”
“Grandfather was friends with Mozelle’s parents, I think he may be her godfather,” said Daphne.
“If someone has been tampering with the Core for twenty years, there’s no way she doesn’t know about it.
And if it was in any way a slip-up, she would’ve absolutely messaged him to get his take, and he would’ve sent back a solution.
Maybe behind the scenes, they’re already trying to fix it as we speak. ”
“So, what we need to do—” Zada started, frowning.
“Precisely!” said Daphne. “We need to sneak into Grandfather’s study, find his Gem, scan through the archive, and see what the record has to say.”
“Oh, is that it?” Zada laughed. “And from there, it’s smooth sailing?”
“Oh no,” said Daphne. “Safe to say those waters are on the choppy side for the foreseeable future. Now come on, his state-of-the-art security system isn’t going to hack itself.”
“Now?” said Zada, about an octave shriller than intended.
“No.” Daphne rolled her eyes. “In the middle of the day tomorrow, when he’s awake and wandering the estate on his monthly day off.”
“Fine, but you’ve got to promise to get me to his study and back. This house is such a labyrinth, I’m amazed we haven’t yet run into a minotaur.”
“No giant walking bull-man could survive my grandfather’s stink eye,” Daphne said under her breath, creeping to the door. “Follow my lead?”
“Always,” Zada whispered.