The morning in the Capital was clear. The bright blue sky, undimmed by clouds, let the sunlight through. The light poured into apartments scattered throughout the city. Ioanna awoke to a single sunbeam that was eager to reach her face. The Tech-Covering had already deactivated.
Ioanna gazed at the sterile ceiling while lying in bed. Only part of her legs was covered by the blanket. She glanced at the clock — it showed nine in the morning. She had no scheduled meetings for the day. Almost all the material for her film had been gathered; only a few interviews remained. Ideally, she wanted to interview Richard Robinson, but he was always busy at the Capitol. The interview she took with him on the train was rushed and incomplete.
What interested her more was the interview with Darwin Toapanta — the man who created the operating system for the Wanderers' implants and one of the leading scientists of Project Fracture. Her interest in Darwin wasn't only professional. The unplanned emergency drill conducted by Professor Martha Crockford a day ago, after which John stopped answering his calls, was the real reason for her reaching out to him.
Ioanna got out of bed and drank a glass of water from the nightstand. After putting on a white blouse and black pants, she walked to the wall and placed her hand on a small panel. Out of nowhere, a screen appeared across the entire wall. Finding Darwin in her contacts, she decided to call him. But at the last moment, her hand stopped.
Not wanting to seem paranoid, she decided to try reaching her brother first. The call started, but as it happened yesterday, a female voice reported that the subscriber was out of the network. Ioanna reactivated the parental control function and again received a negative result. The next moment, a call to Darwin Toapanta began.
"Good morning," said the dark-skinned man in glasses, looking at the screen from his office. His glasses kept slipping, and he occasionally adjusted them.
"Hello," said Ioanna. "Are you busy right now?"
"Uh..." Darwin stretched out the word, "Yes, I have some matters to attend to."
"Do you mind giving me a few minutes?"
"Okay," he replied in the same slow manner, his eyes glued to the computer, constantly swiping his hand across the screen.
"How is the preparation for the launch going?" Ioanna decided to start from afar.
"I'm not involved in the preparation," Darwin replied. "But I am compiling reports."
"How is it going?"
"Everything's fine," Darwin paid little attention to her. His curt responses began to irritate Ioanna.
"Can I ask you a question?" she decided to cut to the chase.
"Yes."
"As far as I know, there was no mention of any drills last week in the regulations. Why did Professor Martha Crockford conduct an unscheduled emergency check?"
"What?" Darwin looked at Ioanna and leaned closer to the screen.
"I think it's best to ask the professor," he said and returned his focus to the computer.
"Do you know how long Jonathan Brooks will be absent from the complex?"
"The Wanderers should be back soon," Darwin said.
"From where?" she finally approached the core of her inquiry.
"From..." he suddenly fell silent and looked at her. "You should talk to Professor Crockford."
"From the Third District?" Ioanna blurted out.
"Goodbye, I'm busy," Darwin cut off the call.
Ioanna didn't call him again. Martha Crockford wouldn't answer either. That left her with Marcus Gray, the Chairman, to question. Could John have been sent to the Third District? Why? For what reason?
Ioanna knew the Third District was a certain death and was becoming more convinced that John was there. Martha had gone completely mad. Whatever had happened, the emergency drill was the reason he ended up in that place. If that's the case, the project could be shut down. Ioanna decided to talk to Martha Crockford and pressure this madwoman. She needed to know where her brother was.
"Mrs. Averino, unfortunately, we don't have time for another interview. We are conducting the final tests of the Fracture Machine," Martha Crockford answered coldly.
"I know that John is in the Third District," Ioanna said, perfectly bluffing. She had never lied like this in her career.
"But..." Martha's face twisted. After a brief silence, she continued, "That's impossible, Mrs. Averino."
"I understand your silence, but I'm asking not as a reporter, but as John's sister, who hasn't heard from him."
"Maybe he turned off his..."
"I checked his Pulse. I've been his guardian since the incident, and it has built-in parental control. John is out of the network, and the only place with no connection is the Third District. Stop hiding. I've had enough."
"Ah," Martha sat down in her chair. "Mrs. Averino, it's much more complicated than that."
"What's happening? Professor Crockford, let's make a deal. You tell the truth, and I stay silent. I just need to know where John is," Ioanna sat down on the bed in front of the screen.
"The project is at risk, Mrs. Averino. Any information leaking to the Capitol will lead to its closure."
"I give you my word that no one will find out. Just tell me where my brother is."
"Fine. Let's make that deal." Martha paused for a few moments to choose her words carefully. "For unknown reasons, the Machine malfunctioned, and one of the parts was damaged. There's no second one, but there is a substitute located in the Cradle. John and the other Wanderers, along with the complex's security group, went there to retrieve it."
"Shit!" exclaimed Ioanna. "You sent them to their deaths?"
"No, Ioanna. I gave them a choice, and they chose to go."
"John agreed?"
"Yes," Martha looked into the girl's eyes. "Don't worry about him. Of all people, you should know what he's been through and how many times he's been on the brink of death. He'll be fine, especially with the security team with him. He's been training for years and preparing for something like this."
"But he..."
"Mrs. Averino, you know John better than I do. And you know he can handle it. The task isn't that difficult: just get there, retrieve the part, and return. They're probably already on their way back."
"Does the Archon know? And the Chairman?" Ioanna asked after a moment of thought.
"No. Only a small group of people know, and it must stay that way," Martha approached the screen closely. "Mrs. Averino, now the fate of the project depends not only on them but on you as well. Don't let personal feelings or impulses destroy the project that so much effort has been invested in. Each of us has given something to the project. Don't devalue their work."
"When is he supposed to return?" Ioanna barely held back tears, understanding the hell her brother was in.
"Tomorrow afternoon," Martha replied, "maybe by evening. It depends on them. But if anyone finds out about this conversation..."
"The project will be destroyed," Ioanna finished the sentence. "I don't care about the project. If John doesn't return... You'll rot in the Tenth District."
"Agreed," Martha touched her wrist, and the screen in her office went dark.
She was right. Martha Crockford had truly lost her mind. She had always been strange — only a madwoman would continue the work on the Center of Primordial Space after the incident. But now... The Third District hadn't become a quarantine zone for nothing. The threats it held were unimaginable. "This is madness," Ioanna said aloud. Rage consumed her thoughts. She rarely got angry, but in that moment, she wanted to kill Martha, to rid their world of her. Then she would go to the Tenth District herself. She was ready to rot there for the rest of her life.
While Ioanna Averino was recovering from the news, Martha Crockford paced from one corner of her office to the other. "Bitch," the Professor muttered under her breath.
"No news?" came a voice from behind.
"What are you doing here? I thought you went back to the Capitol," Martha turned to face Jessica. "Please, knock next time."
"Sorry. After yesterday, I thought it best to stay."
"That was a mistake," Martha pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
"When will you quit?"
"I don't even know," the professor lit a cigarette.
"Problems?"
"You have no idea," the woman nodded. "The Wanderers and Cygnus are in the Third District, the Machine is damaged, and Jonathan's sister knows about his mission."
"Martha," Mills approached her closely, "what if..."
"Don't worry, no one will be watching," Martha reassured her.
"And if they shut the project down..."
"The basement rooms became storage. There's nothing there."
"Even so..." Jessica took a cigarette from the pack.
"I thought you quit," Martha smirked. "Don't worry. If anyone should be concerned, it's me."
"Haven't you thought about telling Marcus Gray?" Jessica asked, inhaling the long-forgotten cigarette smoke.
"So he can shut the project down immediately? Never."
"Professor Crockford," a knock on the door interrupted the conversation between the two women.
"Well, hello," Jessica greeted Darwin as she opened the door.
"Hello, Professor," Darwin adjusted his glasses.
"So many years have passed," Mills smiled. "How's life?"
"As you can see, I'm working," Darwin muttered.
"What happened?" Martha peeked out from behind.
"Reports on the energy nodes."
"How are they?"
Darwin walked through the office to the desk and placed the tablet down.
"Some were replaced, others are still being repaired," the young man turned. "There's a problem. Ioanna Averino called..."
"So that's how she found out," Martha dropped her hands.
"Um..." Darwin paused. "Maybe."
"It doesn't matter," Jessica intervened. "Everything is under control. Both of you have it under control."
"It's not getting better," Martha took off her glasses.
"Listen to me, Martha, and you too, Darwin."
"I don't think it will get better," Darwin mumbled to himself.
"You two are responsible for launching your Machine now."
"Professor Robinson still..."
"Doesn't he know?" Jessica asked in surprise.
"And he shouldn't," Martha shook her head.
"Why?... Never mind," Jessica continued. "You know those guys, you trained Jonathan, Martha. And you, Darwin, are his friend, right?"
"Yes, we're friends," the young man looked away.
"Exactly. You know John, you know the Wanderers. Answer me... will they be able to retrieve the disk?"
"If it survived..." Darwin drawled.
"It survived. Why? Because Simon created it with you, and what's her name... She managed building the Cradle" Jessica snapped her fingers.
"Eleanor," Darwin answered.
"A real bitch," Martha added.
"Who cares. Her too. You," Jess pointed a finger at Martha's shoulder, "put yourselves into creating the disk. Do you think it survived the collapse?"
"It might have survived," Martha stubbed out her cigarette.
"Might?"
"It survived," Martha put her glasses back on.
"And since it survived... that means?" Jessica pushed them to say the words.
"That means they'll get the disk," Martha and Darwin said simultaneously.
"Exactly," Jessica raised her hands.
"I need to work," Darwin waved his hand and left the office, dispersing the smoke.
"Not a bit better," Martha said when the door slammed shut.
"Ah!" Jessica stubbed out her cigarette as well. "What are you supposed to do now?"
"Prepare the machine for the energy disk and the launch."
"Then do it."
"I'm already doing it!" Martha sat down at her desk.
"When I came in, you were smoking like a chimney and pacing back and forth."
"I got it," Martha activated the office system, and the screen appeared in front of her.
"And yes," Jessica stopped near the door, "were all the files deleted?"
"I already answered. No traces."
"Martha..." Jessica's voice dropped, "This is all on you. If they find out. I'll drag you down with me."
"Why don't you tell Darwin about this?" Martha spread her arms. "Is this how you talk to all your friends?"
"Unlike you, he's more predictable and knows the consequences," Jessica pressed her hand against the door panel. "And we're friends because dirt brings people closer."
"No files, no tech. Nothing remains. It's just a storage room," Martha snapped.
"Regardless, I'll stay here until the launch. If anything happens, call me. Keep it together, don't lose your mind," Jessica Mills said as she left.
"What else," Martha muttered in the empty room.
Martha had done a lot to achieve her goal. Everything necessary. Her secrets were forgotten. Erased from all systems. No one would ever discover the worst of them. She was sure of that.