The pain is blinding, literally. My sight nothing but black spots quickly spreading across a smeared after image of the collapsing Virch. The memory of Amelia punching a fist through my head still burned into my retina’s as I throw the visor away. I blink rapidly to try and force some sense back into my vision as I feel a spasm twinge along my spine.

  The sudden jerk cutting off my hiss of pain even as my hands try to scrabble at the spot on my forehead where I felt Amelia’s claws punch through the skull. The burning cold of the data spike she forced into my memories having me lean over to retch bile and spit onto the floor beside me.

  Her message plays through my head in a fused mess of our voices that quickly untangles into her tone alone. My own internal monologue being crushed under the weight of the unfolding spike. The voice distinctly hers in a way that is uncannily different to my own memory of it. Not that I can think much of anything with her message thundering through every inch of conscious thought.

  ‘I’ve hooked your tracker into the school, they haven’t updated the security in years. Amateurs. AI’s going to be trawling everything for data right now. Don’t worry, I kicked you out before you were noticed. I also erased your ID from the visor login record and door scanners. Their locked open too but will only stay that way for the next few minutes so-’

  I throw myself out of the seat as that part of the data packet comes back to me. Pushing aside the continued not-memory that Amelia has rammed into my mind. The rebounding mess of her voice blending with my own and dropping me immediately to my knees with the wave of vertigo it sends through me. I’m bouncing back to my feet just as quickly. Grabbing blindly at the seats beside me to avoid falling over again as the tingling nausea and spasms of dump shock roll through me.

  Heading towards the door out into the corridor of the second floor. I hold in the second retch that tries to force its way out of my throat, biting down on my forearm until worries about leaving blood behind have me just gritting my teeth instead. My dentist is really going to hate me next time I see her. Or, maybe she’ll like that I need new teeth?

  The confusion of dump shock makes my thoughts fuzzy and indistinct like the one time I had a concussion after my spotter wasn’t doing his job. A giggle slips out of my lips as I stumble along the rows of chairs. Confusion cutting it off when I forget what I found so funny. A stray thought for the bile I’ve left behind sets me swaying in place a moment before I give up on cleaning it. Though my head is too filled with freeze-burn to think clearly, my body knows well enough that I can’t go back. Not without falling over and probably passing out.

  My mind wanders a moment at the thought of sleep. Thoughts reaching back to pull up a memory of mum tearing into my old coach while I hug her side and feel quite like this. The memory a bittersweet pain through the spike still trying to unfold itself inside my head.

  I push the thing away in instinct as a shiver of revulsion goes through me. My eyes squeezed shut against even the little light of my surroundings. My ears insisting that I find a nice dark hole to stick my head into where the screams and sobs of those around me can’t reach.

  I sway to a stop again as the noises I’d dismissed as just more ringing in my head become distinct. Finally able to squeeze enough of the black spots from my eyes that the room around me comes into focus. I soon wish it hadn’t as I make out the madly flickering light of the visors still attached to the rest of my honour roll peers.

  I grimace at the sight of a portly girl in the aisle seat to me left. Johanna, I think? Grateful that my confused thoughts had caused me to pause before reaching her. The normally shy girl kicking and swiping out madly for something to grip on to. Her lips moving rapidly but only a rising whine slipping out.

  Elsewhere in the near pitch room, the rest of the dozen or so students are doing much the same as they struggle against whatever the tracker is doing to them. Bodies twitching and mouths moving without sound except for the occasional sob or sharply cut off scream. I pull my eyes away and keep making for the exit.

  Some of them people I’ve known for years and who are now suffering because of me. Good people who haven’t done me any wrong. Instinct demands I help them. It’s with another hard swallow that I stagger to the other side of the aisle to get past Johanna safely. Thoughts fuzzy but still certain that helping them, will mean dooming me.

  Tearing off their visors would only waste all the effort Amelia’s gone to in erasing the records of my presence. Revealing I was here and also that I’d been able to remove my visor far earlier than I should. If there had been another way to do this, I’m sure she would’ve taken it.

  I get to the door just as the sounds from the floor above rise in volume. My hand slamming against the open doorway just as a much higher pitched and ringing screech comes from above. The noise has me ducking down on instinct as I feel my arms break out in goosebumps. The sound barely human and its gender impossible to tell. A signal that my time of being the only one to have removed their visor is at an end. Far sooner than I’d guessed.

  Although, I should still have some time before there’ll be other eyes around to see me. From the sound of the still ongoing scream, it seems like the dump shock has hit them pretty hard.

  I push myself out into the corridor. Copying the motion in my mind as I force away the rush of guilt at what the people around me are about to go through. Knowing that however bad I feel, it will be far worse for a baseline. I swallow the guilt down with a reminder that none of it will be permanent. Leaning up against the left side wall as I make for the stairs at its far end as quickly as I can.

  The doors leading off to the more traditional computer rooms have annoyingly also been opened. Forcing me to wobble past each time I cross the gaps from which the AI’s voice is blaring out from every speaker.

  “Your warranty really is dangerously over extended. If you’d just let us know your registration we can get this sorted out before you know it!”

  The volume of the chipper voice is multiplied several times over by the many speakers and the echo created by the small rooms. My headache spiking higher every time I have to move past one of the doorways. Voices other than the AI’s draws my attention to a room coming up on my right. Head still feeling like its filled with flaming cotton as one of the words in particular draws my curiosity and has me blearily rest against the wall to peek inside.

  “The MIUs not disconnecting! Shit! Shit! What the fuck do we do?!”

  Huddled around the teacher’s desk at the front of the room is a group of three boys. Varsity jackets clashing with blue jeans and cowboy hats in shades of red, blue and green. The group seeming unable to decide between an old school preppy or outdoorsmen’s style. Though, all of them are clearly freaking out as they argue over what to do about the fourth. A boy with skin the colour of weathered copper who sits with eyes closed in the swivel chair behind the teacher’s desk. A cable running from behind his right ear to the computer tower on the desk.

  On the wall beside them, the class projector shows the death screen of a multiplayer FPS that I vaguely recognise. In the top corner is a rapidly scrolling chat window filled with emojis of cross-eyed cats. Both of them greyed out where the window in the centre has deselected them. My curiosity over seeing an MIU close-up withering to cold panic as I recognise a clone of my own work phone’s screen.

  “I keep telling you. Just yank it out!”

  “Yeah, I saw NoVak do that in a grey stream. He just wal-”

  “Fuck no! That only works for Supes. We’ll just cook his brain. Fucking shit! The ‘bearers are gonna cook us alive us if he bites it!”

  “I thought we were ‘bearers?”

  The mention of the gang focuses me like the pain never could. Panic and returned guilt again forced away as I push off the wall with a shake of my head. Grimacing at my own idiocy as I set my jaw and try to force out the pseudo concussion still working its way through me.

  ‘I just need to get out.’

  I’m not sure if I say it or think it but the thought finally gives me something clear to focus on. The corridor still swims though as vertigo almost sends me to the ground. My feet struggling to stay ahead of me as I start to jog towards the stairs. Shaking my head like a dog every few steps to try and force out the last of the nausea and alternating my eyes between squeezed shut and wide open. The last of the black and blurry spots clearing just as I make it to the stairs and quickly pull myself up the railing.

  I get to the top of stairs and pause to try and hear some hint of what’s going on in the lecture hall over the AI’s blaring voice. The sound of intermittent screams and sobs still ongoing but now interspersed with the occasional angry shout. Clearly, whoever’s managed to get their visor off is not feeling very happy about the experience.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I risk a glance around the corner and don’t see anyone in the corridor itself. Hesitating only a second longer to make sure no one’s about to suddenly make an entrance before rushing for the exit. A final wave of vertigo, stronger than the ones that came before, blacking out my vision. Almost sending me to the floor before I slam my hands into the cold steel of the door.

  Despair and rage bubble up from my chest at the feel of it. Cursing myself for being too cautious and letting my muddy thoughts distract me. All thoughts that fade into embarrassment when I realise that it’s unlocked and just waiting to be slid aside. Amelia likely having left it closed so as not to draw attention. Worried it really will lock right in front me; I throw it aside without thinking about the noise and stagger out into the cold light of the noon sun.

  The wall of noise hits me at once. Several thousand kids all screaming and shouting as they move about below. My mind assuming the tracker has somehow gotten them as well before my eyes adjust to the light and I remember this is just what the lunch rush is normally like.

  ‘I really can’t wait to leave this place.’

  The door lock clicks back on behind me, startling me from my thoughts and sending me hurrying across the walkway. I force myself not to run. Knowing that getting across before anyone can see me is impossible and so my best chance of not being remembered is not to draw attention in the first place.

  I pull out my work phone as I go and grimace at the screen. Vision still a little blurry but clear enough to let me see that the tracker’s call is still ongoing. Thoughts returning to everyone who’s still wearing a visor. Not to mention that guy with the MIU who must be having a truly awful time right now. Even if he is a ganger, no one deserves to have their mind scraped.

  The thought of mental intrusion has the last few sentences of Amelia’s message bubbling up to the surface of my memories before I can stop them. My feet stumbling as I’m forced to pause at the the end of the walkway while the spike finishes unfolding itself into my head. The last of the dump shock fading away with a little shiver across my brain.

  ‘-hurry up. Whoever’s tracking you should stop once they realise what I’ve done. All that junk data will be nasty! Get whatever you need off the phone quickly and don’t use it again. If you want to do me a favour, don’t smash it. Just leave it somewhere in school where no one’s going to find it and I’ll have some fun if they call back.’

  Another shiver passes through my head as I feel the last vestige of Amelia’s thoughts stripped from the message. The words now becoming my own memory of them rather than her inserted voice. Although, I still have the memory of her altered voice in my head. How that works, and what it even means, is something I try hard not to think about.

  Putting the whole thing down to New-Net weirdness liable to cook my brain if I think about it too long and so trying to push it aside as I step fully into the central building. Learning how to accept and deal with such direct data transfers is something we’re meant to start learning about in the next few months. But, from this one experience, I’ve never wanted to skip a class more.

  ‘Not that it’s an option for me.’

  I’d had nightmares for years after dad sent a Valkyrie team to check if I really did have food poisoning back in middle school. The nanny at the time not believing her food could have gotten me ill when she’d been eating it too. It was lucky dad had fired her before she figured out that Jason had been slipping me out to try all the street food near his home.

  I’m jolted from the daydream of not having to worry about heavily armed and faceless doctors by the sudden shift in my work phones screen. The tracker having finally given up as Amelia predicted. Quickly, I navigate to the saved contacts and pull out my own personal cell to snap a picture of Legit and the fence’s numbers.

  I breathe significantly easier once I’ve gotten their contacts on something else. Silently cursing at myself again for not at least having the numbers written down somewhere else. Even if I don’t have any paper, I could have just used a knife to etch it into a piece of plastic.

  The work phone creaks in my grip as I walk towards the stairs. Keeping my head down and ignoring whatever commotion has people causing even more noise than normal inside the classrooms. My thoughts and eyes still focused on the screen as I scroll through to the fence’s contact and debate reaching out for a first and final time. Lips turning down as I consider how I still don’t know if they will actually pick up a call from a different number. Not that I have the money to buy another ‘work phone’, even with how cheap the things are.

  I agonise over the decision for a few seconds longer before, again, deciding to split the difference. I can’t do anything about Jason not knowing where to reach me but the fence is still someone I can get too. I send them a text to expect a call from me on a new number at some point in the next few days. Hedging my bets for when I might be able to Pocket a phone from a store. Also, after a few moments more hesitation, warning them not to call this phone and that they should probably destroy the one I’ve just contacted them on.

  ‘Now, I just need to figure out how to get another disposable cell.’

  I ponder the problem as I make my way up the stairs. Putting my own phone away as the sounds of teachers shouting for quiet grows more distant. My mind paying it little attention as I consider the perfect spot to hide the phone so that no one will find it. It’s not even a question that I’d do Amelia this favour after all she’s done for me. Even if it means an even longer delay before getting back to Lilly and Claire.

  I go slow after all the running and stumbling I’ve been doing. The last of the adrenaline fading from my body and leaving me stiff and clumsy as I feel all the aches and pains of yesterday coming back. Looking around to check that I’m alone before slipping a hand into my Pocket to pull out some painkillers and a bottle of water. My struggle with the little tabs again reminding me to just Pocket them separately next time.

  The sound of more shouting draws my attention as I pause on the fourth floor landing to finally wrestle a half dozen of the white pills free. Throwing them into my mouth while I stick my head out into the corridor to see what the noise is all about. At once, I spot a large group crowded around a room the teachers look to have been eating in. Many voices all asking what’s going on with the computers and why the school Host isn’t responding.

  I freeze with the bottle half way to my mouth as the question registers. Blood draining from my face as a terrible premonition overtakes me. What if Amelia hadn’t just hooked the tracker into the IT block but the whole school? The only way I can imagine her doing it so quickly would be through the Host, the very same one she’d said had terrible security. Of course it did, who the hell would be suicidal enough to attack a school after all the examples the Concordat have made?

  I’m just about to step back into the stairwell, mind already trying to convince me this is just a coincidence, when I lock gazes with a pair of liquid gold eyes in the crowd. I freeze, blood pounding back through me in a wave of rising adrenaline before I realise it’s not Archie.

  A look longer than a glance making clear that the freshman has nothing besides ‘ware in common with the curious asshole. From facial features to fashion, they couldn’t be more different. I dip my head in an awkward apology for staring at the kid. About to turn away when I see his mild confusion slide instantly into a smirk that, despite the radically different faces, is an exact copy of Archie’s.

  I flinch my head back with a gulp at the expression and stagger back towards the stairs. The tablets going down dry and making me cough violently before I chase them with a good third of the bottle. Stuffing it and the now mostly empty packet away as I hurry up the next flight and try to put the creepy kid out of my mind. I have more terrifying things to think about.

  Giving a few of my peers a nasty case of dump shock is bad enough. If whatever Amelia’s done has taken down the school’s Host though, then it’s even more important that no one finds out I was in the IT block today. No way the school can afford to fix or replace that thing and the police will definitely be out for the blood of whoever did it. It might even get MEA involved.

  ‘Fuck Amelia, was there really no other way?!’

  The worry and immediate guilt for doubting my friend occupies my mind all the way up the final two flights of stairs. Distracting me enough that I almost forget to pause at the top. Holding my breath to listen for the sounds of anyone still up here. After a few seconds of silence, I feel safe enough to step out into the drafty corridor with a shiver. This floor is empty most lunchtimes thanks to the constant chill but, still, no reason to be stupid.

  Up here, the wind is a constant rattle against the thin walls and worn-down fittings of the windows that are definitely too big to be safe. The view they offer the main reason I’ve always hated having a science lesson in the labs up here. Walking quickly, I move towards the classroom that I’m here for. Not stopping until I’m on the room’s far side and facing the window I need.

  I stand with the scratched pane just a metre ahead of me, one hand gripped tightly to the phone and the other gripping tighter to the crowbar I’ve just slipped out of my Pocket. The window just sits there, cold and rattling as the wind gets up. The distant view of the third circles ring-road, and the many mega-buildings between us, not changing even as my heart rate rises higher and higher.

  The skybridge has never been an issue. Fully enclosed in sturdy plastic and with railings on either side that I can hold onto all the way along. Windows though… Especially ones this big and so high up… Just being near one makes me remember how easily they break. That the walls of the whole floor are constantly rattling and letting in little wisps of chill autumn air really isn’t helping.

  It’s with a deep, focusing breath that I force myself to step up to the windows edge anyway. Legs shaking and eyes wanting little more than to close as I angle the crowbar into the gap where window meets wall.

  The pane of scratched glass comes away far too easily for my peace of mind. The fitting already loosened by Jason and kept so by the semi-constant removals of his friends. Most of whom dropped out before the end of sophomore year and so can’t be solely blamed for the window’s looseness.

  I haven’t been here myself in years and only ever saw him open it a few times back when I still thought smoking was cool. Still, it’s easy enough with my boosted strength and soon I’m staggering away from the new hole in the wall. The pane of glass now lodged at an angle that creates an opening in its top right and bottom left corner. An angle that will eventually be spotted by someone in the noisy scrum of the courtyard below.

  I swallow again at the thought, putting away the crowbar with trembling hands and sucking down a breath of now colder air. Psyching myself up with the reminder that I’m not about to jump over the edge like yesterday. Or engage in a high-speed chase with a hero. I just need to throw the phone onto the roof, put the glass back and get the fuck out of here.

  ‘Come on, this is your first chance to start paying back Amelia. So just… do it!”

  My pep talk isn’t very effective. Another shiver setting my arms and legs to trembling again as the wind blows through the hole and plays a tune along the glasses edge. The rising breeze whipping around the beakers and books of the science lab before being pulled out the door. Creating a draft that will eventually draw someone’s attention if I stand here long enough.

  The thought of being caught here with the window still open gets me moving where loyalty and gratitude could not. Meaning I’m more than halfway to the window when the phone buzzes in my hand.

  I freeze. Breath caught in my chest as motivation flees me and I again stagger back against the smooth stone of the work station behind me. Hiccupping a laugh at the absurdity of still not being able to overcome my fear of heights even after everything that happened yesterday. The rising hysteria is smothered by a more powerful gust of wind that blows into my face. My hair getting tousled around before it catches on my glasses, covering my eyes as I reach up to pull a few curls out of my mouth.

  I fight down more giggles as the wind continues to grow. The phone bringing me back to reality when it again buzzes in my hand. I feel the screen crack a little further in my grip before a deep sigh saves it from being launched out the window as a cloud of scrap.

  “Alright. Remember why you’re doing this. It’s no different to the kitchen counter.”

  With a final deep breath, I step away from the countertop behind me. The wind choosing just that moment to really blow and so making me pause yet again. Gust becoming a rising whistle that cuts across my ears and forces me to un-Pocket a hair-tie to deal with my curls.

  ‘Another reason why I should get it cut sh-’

  A hand suddenly grabs the arm holding my work phone as it reaches back to gather my hair. Thick fingers wrapping fully around my wrist before yanking me backwards and half over the counter. Shock and worry over seriously hurting whoever it is, and so giving myself away, makes me hesitate even as they pull the phone from my captured hand.

  “Damn! Never thought a girl like you would ‘ave a burner.”

  wrong not to post something yesterday and I was very tempted to do so as most of this was written I just hadn't had a chance to check it over like I usually do. Glad I held off in the end though as I feel the chapter is much better for it.