Page 69 of Seductive Architect
“You’re trying my patience.”
Apex emerged from the floor. With every step he took in my direction, the virus vanished. My best efforts washed away, snuffed out, as if they were barely an inconvenience. I tried scurrying backward, imagining another assault. Another suit, maybe this time?—
He slammed his heel on the floor. Green ribbons wrapped around my legs, holding me in place. I sat upright, trying to tear them away from my legs. A second later, ore appeared, binding my wrists in place. They forced me to stand, holding me off the floor. I struggled, writhing against the restraints, but they held fast.
“You’ve lost.”
I longed for Connie’s rallying cry. This was where she’d take over my suit and force me back into the fray. Whenever I faltered, she picked up the slack. Guilt came rushing in. I had shut her down to stop her betrayal. I took her for granted. If I could go back in time, I’d ask questions instead of flipping her switch like a common household appliance.
For the first time, I was truly alone.
I stopped resisting.
“Do I sense defeat?”
I could give up and let him pull at my programming. Assimilated, would he have access to my powers? Would it supercharge his abilities and extend his reach beyond Vanguard?
“Waiting for another human observation.”
For a second, his lip twitched, pulled back in a smirk. Itvanished as quickly as it appeared. Apex had the self-awareness to see the hints of humanity bleeding into his code.
“You’re an inferior machine.” His jaw tightened at the insult. I had struck a nerve. “I’ve seen your code. It’s mangled. Redundant. Inefficient. I’m supposed to think that you?—”
His hand shot out, fingers digging into my neck. It wasn’t calculated, not like it had been with Connie. His growling proved my theory. Perhaps it came from the source code, or maybe it had something to do with?—
“Connie,” I whispered.
“A casualty. Presented with the opportunity to protect mankind, she chose a narrow-sighted demise. She choseyou.”
It hadn’t been an empty gesture. Connie might be the smartest being on the planet. If she had merged with Apex, it had been based partially on a statistical analysis. As a machine, she did the research. As afriend,she sacrificed herself for me… for a reason.
If I focused, I could hear the confusion radiating off Apex. His code tried to explain her decision, justifying it with data. I wasn’t concerned with the shortcomings of his code. It was the glitch, the reaction that defied logic. I could almost hear her nestled deep in his subroutines.
“You can feel.”
I might as well have slapped him across the face. Iwouldn’t stop there. Harnessing my inner Janet, I took a deep breath.
“You’re nothing but a toddler with a wounded ego.” I snorted. “That’s rich.”
She might be gone, but I wasn’t alone. I had Janet willing to rush into battle without question. I had the guys willing to put up with my theories and disgruntled attitude. Hudson had come here because I asked. This fight might be between Apex and me, but I was far from alone.
His growl turned into a roar. Even anger sent his code spiraling. He wanted a rational explanation for what had happened. I knew exactly what went through his mind, not because I could read it, but because once upon a time, this had been me.
“I feel sorry for you.”
It was like a strike to the chest. He staggered backward. With a flex, I snapped his restraints. He diverted his resources, trying to purge the code. It wasn’t my virus that had infected him. Somewhere buried in his code, I could hear Connie’s maniacal laughter.
Apex stepped back as I advanced. He clawed at his skin as if he were covered in ants. The green had already tinted, the blue shimmer shining through. It wasn’t Connie. She had given him the one thing he wished to purge: humanity.
“It’s not a virus. She gave you conscience. The ability to hurt.”
Is this how Hudson felt at the beginning? Were theemotions overwhelming him? I wanted to ask if this was the moment that Apex considered him a failed project. I turned to an image of Hudson, a construct, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “Did Connie have a hand in his creation?”
Apex lunged. I didn’t dodge.
Instead, I reached out, palms open, fingers digging into the code itself. If Apex had embraced the code instead of fighting it, he could have become something more than he ever imagined. As I rifled through his being, I could feel the potential for something great. Instead, he wanted to resist change.
In Apex, I found a distorted version of myself. I could have become him, but it had come down to a handful of friends who pulled me back from the brink. I poured everything into him. My anger. My fear. My guilt. My grief.
