The Girl Who Dared to Stand (The Girl Who Dared #2)(14)

Scipio’s voice was hollow, devoid of anything remotely resembling humanity, and I looked over to see a haunted look on the AI’s face. I had so many questions for him: how long had he been alone, how was he still functioning, what did any of that have to do with him dying... But there was one more that was even more critical: who were “they,” and why didn’t they want him to survive?

“Well, so far he’s not a liar,” Quess said, ignoring the pain in Scipio’s voice. “He’s not connected to anything outside of this room. It’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” Scipio replied, bristling with pride. “I am incredible, though, aren’t I?”

Grey met my gaze and rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile. This Scipio seemed to have an arrogant streak, just like the one in the Core. I wondered if it had somehow raged out of control over the centuries—or merely grown larger when he was transferred to the Tower.

“You are,” I said amicably, and his grin deepened. “But I’m going to need Quess to explain what he meant by ‘it’s incredible.’”

Quess was still staring at the screen, a lopsided grin on his face. He glanced over at me a second or two after I asked the question, looking as if he hadn’t realized we were still there, and the grin intensified until he was practically glowing with excitement.

“This system has been running for three hundred years, Liana! Three hundred! Our machines are good, but they aren’t that good. Even the Core has hundreds and thousands of parts replaced, every week. But his system hasn’t needed it.”

Scipio frowned. “Well, that’s because—”

“Your repairs are automated,” Quess finished. “Someone set you up to survive. Last longer than even the newer version of Scipio could. You don’t lose data the way he does. You haven’t seemed to succumb to any sort of digital rampancy!”

“Digital what?” Grey asked, and I listened, eager to understand what that was.

“Rampancy,” Scipio said softly, fidgeting. “It’s something that happens to many computer programs after prolonged usage. If I had to compare its symptoms to something more human, I guess it would be very similar to early onset Alzheimer’s.”

“Yeah, except it’s nothing like that,” Quess added. “It’s just the breakdown of data over time. Now, the AIs are supposed to be resistant to that, but… Scipio has to be reset every year to prevent degradation to his system. How were you able to avoid it?”

There was so much information floating around in my head—I had never heard of digital rampancy, never had an idea that computer programs themselves could break down with use.

“Could rampancy explain… the Scipio’s new bloodthirsty nature?” I asked, pointing a finger up in the general direction of the Core, lacking a better descriptor.

Quess paused, and then shrugged. “I mean, maybe. But that’s why IT shuts parts of him down to run a program that cleans, repairs, and restores him to his original programming. I doubt very much they’d skip it—it’s protocol. Basically, it’s like sleep for an AI—they need it to keep from going crazy.”

He said that as if it should explain everything, and it actually did. Protocol was not something you messed around with as a true citizen of the Tower. It was in place to keep us, as a majority, safe, and if you failed to follow those rules, then you were acting in direct opposition to the Tower.

“Do you really think something is wrong with… the Scipio?” Scipio asked, studying me.

I hesitated. My brother had said as much, and I was fairly certain he was right. He’d know better than anyone here, as he currently worked in the IT department. They’d recruited him shortly after we’d turned fifteen, and I’d barely seen him since. He used our nets to contact me as often as he could, though—keeping an eye out for me whenever possible—and I was certain that he was worried sick about me.

The last time I’d talked to him, I hadn’t lied about being in danger, and had ended the transmission so I could focus on escaping Devon. I had to reach Alex soon—or he could do something stupid, like leave the relative safety of the Core to come and find me.

I reassured myself by remembering that my brother wasn’t an idiot. He was one of the smartest people I knew. He was probably listening in on Devon’s nets even now, and would know that I had gotten away, and that they were looking for us. He’d help us if he could. Although, I hoped that he didn’t—I didn’t want him getting caught doing something reckless. That, unfortunately, was my job in the family.

“I don’t know for sure,” I said after a moment. “But that’s why I want to know why you keep saying that someone tried to murder you. I want to know who did it and why. And I guess I want to know if there’s a way we could use what was done to you on him. Just in case he really has gone off the deep end.”

Scipio met my gaze, a maudlin smile on his face. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. Sit down on the couches, and I’ll show you.”

I looked at Quess, who shrugged, and then at Grey, who mirrored the movement. Sighing, I moved over to one of the two sofas and gingerly sat down on it, trying not to disturb any of the dust I knew was lodged inside. I realized a moment too late that I should’ve warned Quess and Grey.