The Boy Who Hated Sound

The Source Code of the City

The blue energy blast melts the metal walkway right where I was standing a second before.

Sparks fly in all directions as Uncle Emeka pulls me down through the open maintenance hatch. We drop hard onto a concrete floor, tumbling into a narrow, dark tunnel just as the heavy metal door above us slams shut.

Bang.

The sound of the silver-haired woman's weapon hitting the outside of the hatch echoes through the small space. Dust falls from the ceiling, getting into my eyes and making me cough.

"Keep moving!" Uncle Emeka says, grabbing my arm and pulling me up to my feet.

Chidi and Zainab are already running ahead down the narrow corridor. The only light comes from the small, glowing buttons on the wall panels and the distant red emergency lamps flashing further ahead. My heart is pounding against my ribs, but the heavy ache in my head is gone. Letting go of Adaora's echo changed something inside me. The noise of the city above feels quiet now, like it is far away instead of pressing right against my brain.

"Where does this tunnel lead?" Zainab asks, her voice bouncing off the concrete walls as she keeps pace with Chidi.

"To the main control room of the Core," Uncle Emeka calls out from behind us, keeping a watchful eye on the hatch we just left. "The Syndicate needs that machine to run their memory grid. But your parents designed a backdoor into the system before they disappeared. If Kelechi can reach the master terminal, we can shut down the entire network."

"And what happens to the city if we do that?" Chidi asks, looking back over his shoulder as he runs. "Does Neo-Prague just go dark?"

"No," Uncle Emeka replies. "The city above goes back to normal. People will remember their true history. The blocks that the Syndicate deleted from the records will come back. But it will also mean a war with the high command."

I run right behind Chidi, my mind racing. For my whole life, I tried to stay away from noise, from people, from anything that hurt my head. Now, everything depends on what I do next. I am not hiding in my bedroom anymore.

We reach the end of the tunnel. A massive steel door blocks our path, its surface covered in glowing digital numbers and old analog dials.

Zainab stops immediately, dropping to her knees in front of the door's control panel. She pushes her round glasses up her nose and studies the wires hanging out of the open service box.

"This is an old encryption code," Zainab says, her fingers moving quickly over the small plastic buttons. "It is built on a musical scale. Five notes in a specific order."

"Try the frequency of an analog tape machine," I say, stepping up beside her. "My dad used to test every system with the base hum of the old repair decks."

Zainab presses five buttons in a fast sequence.

A loud click echoes through the heavy steel door. The digital numbers turn from bright red to a steady, welcoming green. With a slow, grinding sound, the massive door swings outward, revealing a large, circular room lit by thousands of tiny flashing lights.

In the center of the room stands a tall glass pillar filled with spinning magnetic tapes and glowing wires. It is the master control unit for the entire city's memory grid.

"We made it," Chidi says, stepping into the room and looking around in amazement.

Before any of us can take another step, a sharp, cold voice cuts through the quiet air of the control room.

"You made it right into a trap."

We all freeze.

From the shadows near the back of the room, the silver-haired woman steps out into the light. She is not alone. Four guards flank her on either side, their acoustic rifles raised and pointed directly at our chests. Behind them, walking out from behind the massive glass pillar, is a man in a clean gray suit.

He has sharp eyes and a cold smile that does not reach his face.

"Uncle Emeka," the man in the suit says, his voice smooth and calm. "It has been a long time. Thank you for leading the boy right to where we needed him."

I turn my head slowly, staring at Uncle Emeka in total shock as my uncle lowers his head and steps away from us, joining the side of the enemy.