The aircraft banked over the western range, its lights flashing against the low clouds. From the control station, it looked almost motionless, suspended in the dark. But the radar screen showed its speed climbing.
Carter stared at the rejected command. “The secondary profile has authority over the emergency relay.”
Voss shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the original design.”
Rachel turned toward him. “You keep saying that.”
“Because someone changed the architecture after the test.”
“Who had access?”
Voss looked at Carter.
Carter’s expression hardened. “Don’t.”
“Your office controlled the operational records.”
“And your team controlled the system.”
Rachel stepped between them. “We’re not going to solve this by trading accusations.”
Lucas stood beside the terminal. The voice he had heard was still in his mind. It had sounded young, frightened, and very much alive. Yet he knew how easily a machine could imitate a voice when it had enough recordings.
“What if the second profile is controlling the aircraft because it thinks it’s protecting someone?” he asked.
Voss looked at him. “That’s possible.”
“Protecting Mara?”
“Maybe.”
“Then why is it calling me?”
Voss rubbed his jaw. “Because your profile may be the only complete reference it can access.”
Lucas glanced at the screen. “Could Mara be the person who can shut it down?”
Rachel looked at the recovered recording on the portable drive. “That’s what the message suggested.”
Carter moved to the communication panel. “We need to contact the aircraft directly.”
Voss shook his head. “The aircraft isn’t accepting external commands.”
“I didn’t say commands. I said contact.”
He opened the emergency voice channel and spoke into the microphone.
“Ghostwing, this is ground control. Respond.”
Static filled the station.
Then came three soft tones.
A voice followed.
“Reference required.”
Carter tried again. “Identify the secondary reference.”
The voice repeated, “Reference required.”
Rachel leaned toward the microphone. “Mara, if you can hear us, respond.”
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a faint voice emerged.
“Where am I?”
Lucas felt his breath catch.
Rachel’s hand tightened around the microphone. “Who is this?”
A pause.
“I don’t know.”
Voss stepped closer. “Mara?”
The voice went silent.
Carter looked at the signal meter. “We have a live response.”
Rachel’s expression changed. “Then there’s a person behind it.”
“Not necessarily,” Voss said. “A live response can be generated from a stored pattern. We need more evidence.”
Lucas moved toward the microphone. “Mara, my name is Lucas.”
Rachel reached for him, but stopped.
The speaker crackled.
“Lucas?”
“Yes.”
A soft sound came through, almost like a breath.
“I know that name.”
Lucas looked at his mother.
The voice continued. “You were supposed to stay asleep.”
Rachel’s face went pale.
Carter lowered the microphone. “That’s enough.”
Lucas stepped forward. “What does that mean?”
The voice answered before anyone could stop it.
“They told me you were the one who would wake me.”
The signal broke into static.
Voss stared at the terminal. “We need to trace the response source.”
Carter opened the signal-routing map. A bright line extended from the aircraft to the calibration tower, then split toward a location marked ORIGINAL MEDICAL ANNEX.
Rachel leaned over the map. “That building was demolished.”
“The structure was,” Voss said. “The underground rooms may still be intact.”
Carter looked at him. “You knew about an underground medical annex?”
“I knew the research group had a secure testing facility. I didn’t know where it was located.”
Rachel’s voice turned cold. “You helped design the system, but you didn’t know where the people were tested?”
“I wasn’t part of the medical team.”
“Yet you signed the technical authorization.”
Voss lowered his eyes. “Yes.”
The aircraft’s position shifted on the radar. It was moving toward the northern edge of the range, away from the main runway.
Carter checked the timer. “The calibration window is nearly closed.”
Rachel studied the map. “If the secondary reference is routing the aircraft, it may be leading it toward the annex.”
Lucas looked at the signal path. “Maybe it wants us to go there.”
“Or it wants the aircraft to reach the annex before we can stop it,” Carter said.
Voss removed the silver cylinder from the terminal. “There may be a manual interruption point inside the annex. The original system would have needed a physical emergency cutoff.”
Rachel grabbed the truck keys. “Then we go.”
Carter hesitated. “The annex is outside the secured perimeter.”
“Then we get clearance.”
“There isn’t time.”
Rachel looked at him. “You can stay here if you want.”
Carter followed her out.
The truck sped along a service road that ran parallel to the western range fence. The aircraft remained visible through the windshield, a moving light that occasionally disappeared behind the low clouds.
Lucas sat beside Voss in the back. The silver cylinder rested between them.
“Did you know Mara?” Lucas asked.
Voss looked out the window. “I met her once.”
“What was she like?”
“Quiet. Observant. She didn’t like being touched by the technicians. She asked a lot of questions.”
“Was she my age?”
“Close.”
“Was she part of the experiment?”
Voss took a long breath. “She was part of the original reference study. The researchers believed children had more flexible response patterns than trained pilots. They thought a child’s unconditioned reactions could help the system distinguish instinctive recognition from learned commands.”
Lucas stared at him. “That’s horrible.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I objected to the method. I didn’t stop the project.”
Lucas looked down at his hands.
Voss continued, “I thought the study would remain limited. I thought the medical team would never connect it to the aircraft.”
“But they did.”
“Yes.”
The truck turned onto a rough track. Ahead, the remains of the medical annex emerged from the desert: a low concrete structure with a collapsed roof and a rusted access gate.
Rachel parked near the entrance.
Carter checked his weapon and flashlight. “We don’t know what’s inside.”
Rachel opened the gate. “Then we proceed carefully.”
They descended a short flight of stairs into a narrow underground passage. The walls were lined with old conduit and cracked tiles. A faded arrow pointed toward CLINICAL OBSERVATION.
The air was stale, but the lights were on.
Lucas noticed that immediately.
“Someone’s been here.”
Rachel swept her flashlight across the corridor. “Stay close.”
At the end stood a heavy door with a small reinforced window. Beyond it was a room filled with old monitors, medical carts, and two empty beds.
On the wall, someone had written a name in black marker.
MARA.
Lucas stepped closer.
A second name had been written beneath it.
LUCAS.
Rachel pulled him back.
Before she could speak, a monitor turned on by itself.
A child appeared on the screen.
This time, the image was clear.
A girl with dark hair sat in a chair, her hands folded in her lap. She looked directly into the camera.
“I’m Mara,” she said.
Lucas stared at the screen.
The girl’s eyes widened.
“You found me.”
Rachel moved toward the monitor. “Where are you?”
Mara looked down, then back up. “I don’t know.”
“Are you physically here?”
“I think so.”
Carter checked the room behind the screen. There was no one there.
Voss approached the monitor. “Mara, do you remember the original test?”
The girl frowned. “There were lights. A sound. They told me to listen.”
“Who told you?”
“People in white coats.”
“Do you remember Elias Voss?”
Mara tilted her head. “You were there.”
Voss went pale.
Rachel turned toward him. “You said you met her once.”
“I did.”
Mara continued. “You told me the machine was only a simulator.”
Voss stared at the screen. “I did.”
“Then why did it hurt?”
No one answered.
Lucas moved closer. “Mara, do you know me?”
She studied him. “You were in the other room.”
“What other room?”
“The room with the window.”
Lucas felt a chill travel down his spine. The hospital photograph flashed through his mind: Rachel beside the bassinet, Voss in the doorway.
Mara’s voice softened.
“You were very small.”
Rachel gripped the edge of the desk.
“Were we in the same study?” she asked.
Mara nodded.
“Did you know my mother?”
“I remember her voice.”
Rachel’s face had gone rigid. “What did she say?”
Mara looked toward something beyond the camera.
“She said she was sorry.”
The monitor flickered.
A warning appeared across the top of the screen.
REMOTE CONNECTION UNSTABLE.
Carter stepped forward. “We need to locate the physical terminal.”
Mara’s eyes widened. “Don’t turn it off.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’ll disappear.”
Lucas felt his chest tighten.
Rachel looked at Voss. “Is that possible?”
He studied the signal data. “If her consciousness is being simulated from stored response patterns, shutting down the system could terminate the process.”
“Could she be alive?”
Voss hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
Mara leaned toward the camera. “Lucas, listen.”
He moved closer.
“The plane is coming here.”
The lights in the corridor dimmed.
A deep rumble rolled through the ground.
On Carter’s handheld screen, the aircraft’s position changed. It was no longer circling the range.
It was heading directly toward the annex.
Click here to continue reading: PART 20: THE LAST AUTHORIZATION
The Moment My Teacher Turned My Proudest Memory Into a Joke in Front of the Entire Eighth Grade
Part 19 of 40
