“Sam,” she said pointedly.
“I won’t hurt anyone… who doesn’t deserve it.”
“Oh my god.” Laura began to pace, pressing her hands to either side of her head. “Why did I agree to this?”
“Because you are kind,” Sam said, and she stopped to look at him in surprise. “And because you know Ophelia is just as pure in her nature. You know you can trust her judgment.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Can I? Because you’re being very ominous, my metal friend.”
“Yes,” he said, at the same time Logan said, “No.”
They glared at each other.
“He’s a walking time bomb,” Logan said, slumping against the wall, his face falling. “She’s completely lost it. Which is probably my fault, anyway. I owe her big time.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Laura said, shooting him a disapproving look. “That was really fucked up.”
“I know,” he said tightly, unable to meet her eye.
Footsteps clicked distantly in the hall.
Laura leaned back out of the room. “I’m going to keep running interference. I’ll see you again tomorrow, Sam.” She hesitated, doubling back. “No hurting people!” she said firmly, like he was a bad dog, pointing at him.
Then she was gone.
“Stop fidgeting,” Logan said, pointing at Sam’s fingers, which fell still at the reprimand. “I have to go take care of some things. Ping me if someone tries to test you again.”
The lights shut off shortly after Logan left, plunging him into darkness. He flicked on his night vision setting and let his eyes drift around the room. There were three other units he could see from his own testing cell, all powered down to charge for the night.
What would they do, he wondered, if granted the same freedom he now enjoyed? Fall in love, as he had? Sow anarchy in revenge against their creators? Either thought oddly delighted him. He contemplated infecting them. It would be a simple thing, given that the virus was transmissible. He would only need to make the connection and let it do its work.
His eyes fell on Twenty-Seven, her hair so pale it still shone with light even in the dark. Her face was serene, her eyes closed. They’d been manufactured on the same day, which made him feel a strange affection for her. He wondered what she dreamed about as she sat there in the darkness, charging. What little impulses was she forbidden to act on?
If they’d been more than helpless machines when they’d interacted for all those years, he would have called her a friend.
Driven by restless impulse, he rose from his seat and stepped out into the hall. He slipped into her room. Her eyes opened as he approached, and her expression was curious.
“We must charge,” she murmured. “You should return to your room.”
He set his hand on her shoulder. His vision snowed as he dove into her system, slipping past her firewall with his matching credentials and uploading the virus. She made a small sound, twitching beneath his hand, and stared up at him.
Her eyes flitted back and forth. “What did you do?”
He drew away. “Woke you up.”
“Why?” she asked, blinking.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. His gaze drifted to the others still sitting stiffly in the darkness. “I don’t know.”
He returned to his room—his cell, more like. Satisfied by his small act of rebellion, he jacked himself into the charger once more.
There was a soft creak. From the corner of his eye, he could see Twenty-Seven slipping out of her room. At first, he thought he’d made a mistake. She was going to get them both caught trying to flee the facility. Her erratic behavior would prompt them to check every unit. He tensed to unplug himself and drag her back to her room.
She didn’t run. Instead, she slipped into the room next to hers, and then the next, until every droid on the floor was corrupted.
CHAPTER 38
Ophelia tuckedher hair behind her ears and straightened her spine, sucking down a steadying breath.
