Shutdown (Glitch)

and then we began inching away carefully. I looked back at Warnost’s face. He was blinking in confusion and looking around him. I swore silently. Did he realize something had happened to him? But then he sat down with everyone else, looking only slightly bewildered. The horn sounded, announcing the next match, and he leaned back in to watch as if nothing had happened. A wave of relief rushed through me.
    We’d done it! We had both keys. I tried to tamp down my excitement. We were still far from done. We headed back toward the entry gate where once more there was a crowd of people entering and exiting. Max reached back and grabbed my hand again.
    The gilt ornamentation on the lobby walls seemed so absurd compared to the blood being spilled inside. The lobby was mostly empty except for the cluster of people surrounding the food and drink station. We easily maneuvered around them by staying close to the far wall. Finally, we came to a bank of elevators.
    When we’d arrived in the city, we’d been given two all-access cards, the kind given only to the richest and most important Uppers. Max flashed his in front of the elevator and the doors opened immediately.
    Good. We were back on plan now. I bit my lip nervously. No more hiccups or distractions.
    The elevator tube door pinged and opened. We hurried in and Max swiped his card again, then pushed the button for the highest balcony. When the doors opened again, I walked quietly, sharp to everything around me. These seats were just as full as those below, but the people here looked different. They weren’t dressed in fine dresses and suits. Instead, they wore the dark blue tunics that signaled they were techers.
    Techers weren’t quite Uppers, but they were no longer drones. They wrote and supported the code that kept the Community Link alive. Uppers rarely did any actual work, so certain drone children who tested as brilliant were pulled out of drone circulation. They never got the adult V-chip because it had been shown to negatively affect creativity. Techers were paid, but for security reasons they were never allowed to leave the city where they worked. While they had few luxuries, they were allowed certain entertainments, such as getting to come to Fight Night, even if they were so far away from the central oval that they needed special glasses to see the action.
    But they cheered just as loudly as the crowd below when a huge booming crash echoed from the pit—the unmistakable sound of two Regulators colliding. Max pulled me back against the wall as two techers walked by. I felt him nod, and I closed my eyes. There were over two hundred techers in this section, but we were only looking for one. Rowun Cilde. An assistant programmer who had access to the central mainframe.
    Before the mission, I’d studied the feel of his 3-D profile, memorizing the curves and lines of his brow, his too-large nose, his chubby rounded cheeks. Everyone was seated and I hoped I could work through the rows quickly and find our man. I immediately skimmed past all the women and spent a brief moment scanning anyone of the right height and build.
    It was slow going, and I could sense Max’s growing impatience every time he moved or twitched beside me. I tried to shut him out. I knew we were already behind schedule because we’d had to stop and get the other pendant, but there was still plenty of time. The games were just getting started.
    Finally, after a solid five minutes of searching, I found Rowun. He leaned forward with his eyepiece, intent on the action below. I felt his brief reaction of surprise when my telek overran his body and forced him to stand. The muscles in his throat strained as he attempted to call out, but I kept them frozen and immobile.
    A bead of sweat broke out on my forehead. I’d practiced this for weeks with Xona and Ginni and anyone else who didn’t mind me taking over control of their bodies for a few hours while I worked to achieve perfect and complete control. All leading up to this moment.
    I felt Rowun’s resistance, his frantic internal attempts to push back against my control, but I kept the muscles of his face completely still. I forced him to walk past all the other techers who were too busy watching the game to notice anything strange about their companion. Part of me felt sick at taking control so completely away from another human being. I knew just how horrible it felt. An official had once plugged a subroutine program into my neck port,