“But that doesn’t explain why we can’t find the Center.” Once more, I look around the building as we keep climbing.
We make it to the top of the building, to where they house the telescope and other Mana-sensing equipment, only to find nothing. No sense, no indication of an Administrative Center.
“You sure there’s one here?” Mikito finally voices the question we’ve all been asking.
“The Lady believes so,” I say. It’s not as if I have a better clue. The only time I found one was when they told me the exact coordinates.
“There’s no… mind messing,” Mikito says.
“I know.”
I stomp around the perimeter, poking idly at the equipment and walls and triggering nothing. I end up back where Mikito is standing, watching me while Ali floats around, his notification windows beside him. Searching in his own way.
“But this is our best lead,” I say.
“Then maybe you are looking at this the wrong way,” she says.
Her words force a reluctant nod of acknowledgement from me. I draw a breath then another, slowly cycling out irritation and impatience before I tap into my Skill. Skill Edit blooms and I reach out with it, using the additional System Edit sense it gives me for… something.
The results come so fast, I could kick myself for not doing this earlier. The Administrative Center’s entrance is like a blazing beacon in my mind, one that screams for attention. Half-cognizant of what I’m doing, I walk down the stairs, away from the main rooms, into a familiar office.
The door slides open, revealing a boring-ass manager’s office. But it’s not the desk that I see, nor the single, strangely shaped chair with its extra-long seat and sloped back. My attention is fixed on the empty exterior wall that should lead to the outdoors. I’m nearly there, nearly touching it when a hand drops on my shoulder.
“You’re taking me with you this time, yes,” Mikito says. The sentence might be phrased like a question, but it’s clear she really isn’t asking one.
“I don’t think I can,” I say. My head turns, facing Ali. “I don’t think even he can come.”
“Don’t think or do you know?” Mikito says.
I consider the information pressing on my mind. Glyphs, runes, whatever you want to call them, each with further information encoded in each rune, their meanings manifold. Details about exceptions, regulations, methods of creating exceptions, security considerations, minimum thresholds, data and more data.
I try processing it consciously, fail, and give up, letting my subconscious mind take care of the information flowing within. It’s the only way to deal with the System, only way to understand… everything.
“Know. Sorry.” I tilt my head upward, considering. “But I think, yes. I should be able to augment and alter the security protocols. Keep you hidden, just like the Lady did.”
“You sure?” Mikito says, frowning. “You know, I could go with her…”
“And be beholden to that witch further?” I shake my head. “We already owe her for Harry. And your club.”
Mikito makes a face. “We don’t know if she’s lying.”
“No, we don’t. But do you think they’d leave even that stone unturned?”
Mikito shakes her head.
“Right. So we trust that she’s protecting them as best she can. By making them less of a threat than they might be.”
“I….” Mikito bites her lips, shaking her head. “Do you think they know what they’re truly getting into?”
I hesitate, thinking of her question. Thinking of all those we’ve burnt, will burn. All those who’ve been sacrificed on the altar of my Quest. Who will be sacrificed. I see Lana’s face, Roxley’s dark skin, the pictures of Kyle’s and Sarah’s kids. I remember an old friend, a tired First Nation lady and a vibrant one, now dead.
Harry.
Richard.
Bolo.
Even Catrin, perhaps.
So many lives at risk or lost already. And for what?
For what?
“Boy-o?” Ali calls.
I shake my head, seeing Mikito’s face, brows scrunched, lips tight with worry. I offer her a half-smile, then tell her the truth.
“I don’t know. Probably not. But did any of us?” I say. “I don’t know if there’s anything that could ever make us truly prepared. But we’ve made choices, and those choices have brought us here. And there might be more prices to pay, more lives lost. But if we stop moving forward now, everything we’ve done will have been for nothing.”
Mikito nods, then meets my eyes. She says the next words slowly. “Then you best get moving, baka.”
With those compassionate words ringing in my ears, I touch the wall.
***
The inside of the Administrative Center is similar to the last one I was in. Same white décor, same large windows of notifications giving details about the local System code and tickets. Same mezzanine. Good news though—what’s not the same is the lack of homicidal Senior Administrators.
Once I confirm my life isn’t at risk, I turn my attention to the buzzing notifications. I flip through them quickly, ignoring the welcome messages, searching for new information. A surprise is the small experience notifications I get when I find a pair of the tickets I was working on having been completed. I get partial experience and credit for that.
I almost pull up the tickets to see what they’ve done to my code. To see what kind of obtuse solution they entered for what would likely be a simple solution. Then I smack myself mentally. For not trusting others and for the fact that I’m not here to code.
At least, not immediately.
Instead, I dig through the notifications for more information. I’m still puzzled about why the Senior Administrators didn’t exit after me. Nor do I think that just trying to kill me is all they could do if they were blocked from exiting.
Unsurprisingly, I find my answer in my notifications.
Senior Administrators ared Lebek’jjas and Wex have been penalized for violating Administrative Center protocols.
No information about what kind of penalties, but I’m assuming it involved being unable to follow me. Potentially being put in a time-out. I can only hope it’s a long time-out. Still, that’s one mystery solved. Not that it was a big mystery, but I’ll take the wins where I can find them. I haven’t been getting a lot of them recently.
Senior Administrator ared Lebek’jjas has input a demerit for Junior Administrator Lee and instituted a decrease in his security clearance.
Those Gremlin-shit eaters. Wait. Am I hanging out with Ali too much? I’m beginning to curse like him.
Security Clearance for Junior Administrator Lee is now at Level 5.
Root Administrator has reviewed security clearance decrease for Junior Administrator Lee.
Root Administrator has rescinded security clearance decrease.
Security Clearance for Junior Administrator Lee has been adjusted by Root Administrator to Level 1*.
The last three notifications scroll past without comment as I find myself too stunned to move. I stare at the last notification that slowly disappears, my jaw hanging open, my mouth and throat drier than the underside of a vacuum cleaner in the Sahara Desert.
Administrative Center maps have become available for Junior Administrator Lee. Please access Administrative Center consoles for further details.
Root Administrator.
There’s a Root Administrator.
I find myself on the floor, shivering. Emotions, long pushed aside or subsumed under that most useful of cloaks—rage—erupt and resolve. My hands are shaking, and I find my eyes wet with unshed tears.
Because if there’s a Root Administrator, and one that rules against the Senior Administrator, then that means there’s someone out there who might be able to help us. Someone who, with their knowledge, might be able to answer my questions. Someone who can stand against the Council in its entirety. Stand against even my so-called allies.
It means there’s hope.
Of salvation.
And an answer to the Quest.