Читать книгу We are SLC3 - Sophie Liebhardt - Страница 9

The setting is different every single time: sci-fi, fantasy, steam-punk, pirates, you name it. We fight against drones, robots, sorcerers, soldiers, monsters, zombies, angels.

Two things are always the same, though: There is always some kind of oppressive entity, be it a large organization, the government, a corrupt ruler, or the gods themselves. And we never win. Not a single damn time.

“Are you alright?” Michael asks.

“Why is everyone asking that all the time?” I snap. “No, I am obviously not alright.” I stare at the white tiles on the ceiling. “This is like my very own personalized hell.” I start shouting. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why do you have to torture me like this?”

“I don’t think they do,” Michael says quietly.

“Yeah, sure. They are letting me fail over and over again because of their great empathy. As if that manipulative AI would actually care about me.”

The aggressive look I give him seems to make him uncomfortable. “You are in a hospital, right? A place meant to help people, right?”

“Seriously, how naive are you? Hospital is just a euphemism for prison. That’s not where you help people. It’s where you lock them up, so they can’t cause you trouble any more.”

“That’s not true. People recover all the time. What about your family? Is there no place you want to return to?”

“My family is dead.” I can almost taste the bitterness of my words.

He is thrown of balance. “Sorry, I didn’t know that.”

“Because of that all-knowing, almighty AI, everyone has so much faith in.” I should stop. But I do not care.

“That can’t be true.”

“Officially, it was an accident. But let’s be honest. Accidents don’t happen any more. Everybody said it was a miracle that I survived. But no, the only reason I am still alive is because they decided so.”

“I am so sorry, Sarah.”

When I see his troubled and confused eyes, I realize that I went to far. “I should go.”

He looks like he still wants to say something, but I already leave through the door.

I rush through the hallways. I need to get out of here.

Instead of getting into the car that is patiently waiting for me, I quickly walk away from the Department of Simulation Technologies.

My drone does not stop me, so I just keep walking. Where am I even going?

The chill night air helps me calm down a bit.

Then I hear a familiar rattling followed by a hissing sound, that makes me halt and look around.

Under a bridge I find a young boy with slightly swirly, brown hair spraying graffiti on a wall.

Every single time I did that, I was caught by the police. Though, I wonder where he got the spray can from. Only authorized artist have access to something like that. I always had to improvise with lipstick.

When I walk up to him, I notice that he is at least one head shorter than me. Just how young is he?

“Hey, you should stop doing that!” Don’t get involved in this.

“Why?” he asks without even looking at me.

“Because you will regret it later.”

He shrugs. “If you really want me to stop, then make me.” It sounds like a challenge.

Fine, if that’s what you want. I grab his spray can, trying to take it away from him.

“Hey, you two! What are you doing there?” A policeman is approaching us. Every single time.

Before I can even react, the boy grabs my wrist and starts running. The spray can drops to the ground with a hollow clank.

“Let go of me!” But he keeps dragging me with him. For his small size his grip is surprisingly firm.

He seems to know exactly where he wants to go and changes directions really quickly.

When I realize he is running straight towards a highway, I shout: “What are you doing?”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be fine.” Exhilaration is burning in his eyes. That can’t be good.

We are getting closer and closer to the constant stream of cars.

I close my eyes, waiting for the impact that is sure to come. But it does not. I open them again. The cars are dodging us perfectly.

I look backwards. The policeman has stopped on the side of the road. He is not crazy enough to follow us.

The boy is leading me through the traffic flow. How can he stay so calm? Like we are going for a nice, relaxing walk in the park.

We reach a construction site on the other side of the street. As soon as we are away from the cars again, I can feel the tension in my body resolve.

The boy jumps on some planks, meant to be used on the upper floors of the unfinished building, pulling me along. The crane connected to the planks immediately lifts us up, and in that moment it dawns to me who this boy is.

The crane takes us higher and higher. Up to the already finished roof of one of the neighbouring buildings where it carefully puts us down again. The boy finally lets go of me.

I need a few seconds to catch my breath again. He looks back at me with curious, green eyes. The simple white text on his black shirt reads: Cogito ergo sum.

“You’re with SLC3, aren’t you?” I ask.

He gives me a smile. “I’m Phi. It’s nice to finally meet you, Sarah.”