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 wasobscene.
“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’sstink eye,” Daphne said under her breath, creeping to the door. “Follow my lead?”
“Always,” Zada whispered.
Chapter TwelveAn Adventure in the Study
Chancellor Fallow’s study door was locked, not with a bioscan but with an old-fashioned lock. Zada shot a questioning look at Daphne, who fished in her pocket and produced an equally old-fashioned lockpick.
“Piece of cake,” she whispered. “I’ve done this loads of times.” She stood in the doorway, casting lanky shadows against the fine wood, expertly manipulating the tumblers with a look of uncharacteristic concentration. Her parted lips were moving ever so slightly, as if whispering sweet nothings that would convince the knob to roll over and surrender.
Finally, a quiet click sounded, and Daphne twisted the door open with a devastating little smile. Zada slipped in after Daphne.
“Lights at half brightness,” Daphne told the house system, barely audible as the darkness resolved into an expansive room lit by intricate glass light fixtures. The study was something straight out of a historical movie. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, which were filled with real paper books. The books were thick and important looking, in shades of brown and accented with gold.
“There’s so many,” Zada murmured, staring in awe at theshelves.
“It’s all for show,” Daphne said quietly. “I guarantee you, he’s never read them.”
