Override (Glitch)

steal it—”
    “Well it’s gotta come from somewhere, don’t it? And last I checked, the Rez ain’t got near enough resources to buy—”
    “Stop,” Taylor said, and I heard feet approach the doorway. “You can’t even close a door correctly, no wonder you got cracked trying to leave the factory with the prototype.”
    The door shut fast before I could hear his response.
    I pulled back, my heart beating fast. What were they talking about? I was stunned, but I couldn’t turn back to my dorm room. I’d come here with a purpose, and I was going to see it through.
    I waited a few minutes, so they wouldn’t know I’d heard them, then knocked on the chrome door until it slid open. I looked at Henk. He was staring at the General, his face mottled with anger. She looked down at her console screen as if purposefully ignoring him.
    “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”
    “I was just leaving.” Henk grabbed his jacket and strode out the door.
    I looked around. Every ounce of wall space was covered with paper maps and a wall-wide monitor that had digital notes scribbled all over it. The clutter gave the room the look of a lair. And all the actual paper surprised me. I leaned in without thinking to try to read her small scratch. I was used to everything being digital. Other than me and my drawing stock, I didn’t know anyone who used paper anymore.
    “What?” the General asked, still not looking up.
    Nervousness struck, but I held my ground. “I want to talk to you about something.”
    She finally looked up, but her eyes were narrowed. “What?”
    “I saw over the Link News feed that glitchers are showing up younger and younger.”
    The General nodded, her face impassive. Of course she already knew.
    “That means the Chancellor is getting access to even more glitchers every day,” I went on, “building up her ranks when we haven’t been able to rescue any new ones other than the few from the raid.”
    She didn’t respond. I hesitated.
    She stared at me, her face still expressionless. “And? Is there something else?”
    “They say glitching runs in families sometimes,” I rushed on. “So I want to put together a mission to rescue my brother and other people’s siblings. We’ve got to get to them before the Chancellor does.”
    She stared at me blankly for a long moment, then took a deep breath. “Oh my, you’re serious. Listen carefully, Zoel. Chancellor Bright has your family’s housing unit under constant surveillance because she thinks you would be stupid enough to try to attempt such a thing. It’s probably the same for the family of every other glitcher we’ve rescued. There might be a lot of rumors and talk about you becoming a leader, but this army doesn’t belong to you. These aren’t your lives to risk. And if you think it’s worthwhile to get good soldiers killed just so you can play happy family, you’ve got a hell of a lot to learn about being a leader.”
    “But his life could be in danger,” I sputtered. “I have to try. And he might be a glitcher.”
    “ Might is the operative word. And all of us have family.” She turned her attention back to the file in her console screen.
    “Which is why I’m not just talking about my brother, but the others’ families too. There can’t be that many of us with siblings, and if we organized coordinated strikes all at the same time—”
    “No,” Taylor said simply, looking back at her console screen.
    “You don’t understand.” I sat down at the chair across from her. “I betrayed my older brother a long time ago, and I couldn’t save my friend Max. I can’t do the same to Markan. I have to try to get him out. I could disable any Regs who are assigned to follow him, then we could—”
    The General looked back up at me, her face suddenly hard as marble. “I’ve already wasted too many of our resources in the hope that you might turn out to be useful. We built this entire facility with you in mind, to protect you. We saved you.”
    “But—” I started to protest, but she cut me off.
    “No, Zoel, you have yet to pay back any of the great debts you owe. And that’s fine. I have one task that I need you for, and then I’m happy never to work with any of you glitchers again. You’re all unnatural anyway. A by-product of the enemy we are trying to destroy. I’ll take care of mine, you can take care of yours.”
    I gasped, taken aback. “What does that mean?”
    “It means I’ll take care of freeing the drones.