Limbo (The Last Humans Book 2) Read Free

to myself but mostly for her benefit.
    She doesn’t respond, so I say out loud, “Can’t you use your hacking skills to figure this out?”
    Phoe turns back to me. “This cathedral is located in a DMZ of sorts. It took a lot of effort for me to tap into it. I was lucky I got into it at all. But when I tried to trace his origin”—she points at the Envoy—“no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. I reached an impenetrable Firewall that blocked me from accessing a large chunk of the overall computing resources. And I don’t mean I just can’t use them. I can’t even fathom what’s there. And he clearly exists in that unreachable region.”
    “What’s a DMZ?” I ask. “And for that matter, what’s a Firewall?”
    “Demilitarized Zone—DMZ for short—was an ancient computing term,” Phoe says. “Think of it as a layer of security against hacking that lies between systems that aren’t secured and systems that are heavily secured. A Firewall is another measure of security, one between the DMZ and whatever it is you’re trying to hack. It’s the Firewall that has me baffled, but none of this should be the focus of our conversation. I think we should be discussing the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
    I nod, letting go of the mystery of the Envoy’s identity for now to focus on the meaning of his conversation with Jeremiah.
    Yesterday, Fiona, one of the Elderly, called a Council meeting to object to Jeremiah’s method of questioning me (via torture). The meeting took place but didn’t really change anything. The Council decided to allow Jeremiah to do what he wanted.
    After I beat the IRES game and Phoe got the resources she needed, she was able to make everyone Forget I was ever in trouble, which means that Jeremiah can no longer recall the ‘should we torture Theo?’ Council meeting. Unfortunately for us, it seems this Envoy was notified that the cursed meeting was scheduled. Thanks to that, the Envoy knows that a Forgetting happened.
    “Yes, your assessment agrees with mine,” Phoe says as a voice in my head. “And before you ask your next question, let me show you this.”
    Phoe flicks her fingers, and the conversation between Jeremiah and the Envoy speeds up. Their lips move like leaves in a tornado, and their voices sound high-pitched. The effect would be comical if it weren’t for the bits and pieces of conversation I catch—information that confirms what I’ve already deduced. They know that Jeremiah’s brain was somehow tampered with, which should be impossible given his role as the Keeper of Information.
    Phoe returns the recording to normal speed as Jeremiah asks, “Can you undo the Forgetting? Return to me what I have lost?”
    “No,” the Envoy responds, the melody of his voice brooding. “I can’t recover your memories, but we can monitor you and the Council going forward. If you’re made to Forget again, I should be able to learn who was behind this atrocity.”
    Phoe snaps her fingers again, and the scene pauses.
    I exhale the breath I was holding in. The point the Envoy made about whether he can undo Forgetting is a question that goes to the core of my anxiety.
    “That is one bit of evidence that proves this Envoy isn’t me, assumingyou still needed reassurance on that front,” Phoe says. “I can undo a Forgetting, if I choose to do so.”
    “Well, he could be lying,” I begin to say but stop. “No, he wouldn’t have a good reason to lie about that.” I inhale. “I’m glad he isn’t you. If he were you and could undo Forgetting, that would be a disaster. I mean, if Jeremiah recalled what happened, the Guards would be on their way to get me as we speak.”
    “No.” Phoe rubs the heel of her palm against her chest. “ The Guards aren’t on their way to get you…”
    I look at her questioningly, and she flicks her fingers again.
    The scene speeds up once more, then slows as the Envoy says, “Logic would dictate that you start your investigation with the