Glitch

careful.”
    He pulled back and reached around to the back of my
    neck, his fi ngers a whisper on my skin. Then he yanked out
    the drive and I stumbled with the sudden use of my limbs
    and fell into the wall.
    “Wait!” I said in a loud whisper, looking around me after
    I’d gotten my balance back. But he was already gone. I stood
    still for a moment, turning back and forth between the hall-
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    way he’d left through and the doorway leading to the sub-
    way platform.
    My mind raced. If I tried to escape I knew it was doomed.
    I would be free and myself until the end, but it would all be
    over, and soon. Or I could trust Adrien, the boy who might
    be a Monitor.
    “Beta Ten Gamma Link,” I whispered and was immedi-
    ately jolted back into the Link. The familiar three rising tones
    of the Link sounded. I instinctively paused my step while
    the three tones fi nished. The colors immediately seeped out
    from the hallways around me. The Community Link is peace.
    In the time of the Old World — I took a deep breath and made
    my way back to the elevator tube.
    I passed by Chancellor Blight’s offi
    ce on my way to the diag-
    nostic center.
    “Subject Zoel,” she said.
    I stopped and stepped into her offi
    ce.
    “Yes?”
    “Why are you late to your diagnostic appointment? We
    called for you fi fteen minutes ago.”
    “I required use of the bathroom facilities,” I said. I was
    amazed. I was Linked, but it was like the sliding door re-
    mained half open. I still had access to my own thoughts. I
    could still keep my own secrets. She stared at me through
    narrowed eyes, but I didn’t blink or look away despite the
    scared tension gathering in my chest. I focused on my breath-
    ing to keep my heart from racing.
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    Heather Anastasiu
    Embrace the Link , I thought. Let the gray spread. . . .
    “May I continue?”
    “Yes,” she said, fi nally glancing back down at the tablet
    on her desk.
    I turned and tried to let the Link numb me as I kept walk-
    ing down the hallway. The diagnostic center was at the end
    on the right.
    Gray standing partitions sliced the large room into a
    maze of smaller cubicles. The Link laid schematics of the
    room over my vision. The hallway lining the left side of
    the room was exactly twenty paces long. Doorways led into
    other rooms— the surgery rooms for student hardware in-
    stallation and updates.
    “Subject Zoel Q-24 reporting.”
    The small ash- blond woman at a desk near the door looked
    up. She glanced back down to her small projected tablet
    screen, tapping the screen a few times.
    “B-Eleven.” She sounded blank and disinterested. Just
    like I would sound again if Adrien had tricked me after all
    and made me deliver myself to my doom.
    I went six paces down the hallway and turned left into the
    small area marked B-11. I sat down on the intimidating di-
    agnostic table. The table had a padded oval cutout near the
    top for when subjects lay facedown for neck- port access. All
    equipment was installed in the concrete walls on huge metal
    arms that could be pulled over to reach either side of the
    diagnostic table.
    Attached to each arm was a diff erent instrument: a pierc-
    ing bright light, imaging screen, chest- port plug- in, the hard-
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    wired neck- access cable, and other mea sur ing and surgical
    equipment. The whole thing looked like a giant robotic spi-
    der buried in the wall, its spindly legs reaching sinisterly out-
    ward to surround the operating table.
    I rubbed my neck uncomfortably, thinking about the drive
    Adrien had put in there only minutes before. I hated the
    sensation of being immobilized. The thought of the cold
    metal hardware that lined the walls being forcibly inserted
    into my body made me squeamish. I needed to go gray again
    and let the Link take over, but my anxiety was unfortunately
    keeping me sharp.
    I tried logic. I should be used to this. Every test had been
    run thrice over after my disappearance, not to mention that
    I’d been subjected to the diagnostic table ever since I was a
    kid. It was only since glitching that I’d started feeling how
    unnatural it all was. In spite of my eff orts to stay calm, my
    chest stayed tight with anxiety.
    The technician entered the cubical and drew the curtain
    closed behind him. He was the same technician who usually
    worked on me.
    I automatically lay down on my stomach and fi t my
    face through the oval. The technician pulled some of the
    equipment arms over my prone