Day Of The Hackers

By JM Hastings

Alice's heart thudded. She craned her head around, straining against the ropes.

"Adam? Where are you?" she said.

A shout went up from the ridge. The villagers were all rushing to the wall and pointing up at the sky behind her. Then she heard it – a thunderous noise that filled the air and grew louder and louder. She struggled wildly against the ropes. A huge shadow was falling over her.

"Subject agitated. Administering sedative," said the first voice.

Through her panic Alice felt a sharp pain in her arm where it was lashed to the binding-stone. A weakness crept over her. Her heart stopped thudding. The noise was right above her and then the dragon filled the sky. Its huge body gleamed golden in the light of the setting sun. The wind from its wings beat around her. Its mouth opened, but Alice's vision was fading. Her last thought, as the dragon and darkness descended together, was:

"Dad, how could you? I'll never trust you again."

• Language: English
• Publisher: MoonDragon
• Release date: Oct 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201237240

JM Hastings

Literature, in all its many forms, was Jenny Hastings’ (1956-2019) first love. She was a librarian who had an uncanny knack for finding just the right books to give to people at any moment in their lives, matching stories uniquely to personalities and preferences, finding the perfect combination to delight and inspire, and thereby starting many young people on reading journeys that would go on to last a lifetime. She was also a gifted storyteller, but only wrote one book, namely Day Of The Hackers, a teen sci-fi novel, which was Jenny’s favourite genre.

Book preview

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

i

Alice thought she was used to the idea of being sacrificed to save her village, but when the time came she found it wasn’t quite the same as she’d imagined. It had rained earlier in the day, and the hem of her white dress was already brown with mud. The blue flowers that Sage, her mother, had twined through her hair were slipping out, and a thorn was pricking her cheek. Sage’s arrangements always collapsed quickly. She could hear her singing – Sage always sang when they were out walking. The rest of the villagers, straggling untidily behind them, were quiet, and Alice’s father was a silent upright figure in front of her. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, sang Sage. Alice lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and marched onwards.

They had been walking for about two hours when the tree-line opened up ahead. The path widened, and then they were out of the forest and standing in a flat open space that ended abruptly in a waist-high wall. The signboard fixed onto the wall was cracked and eaten away with reddish rust, but the words were still visible. Lovers Leap Look-out, it said, and then in smaller letters: Elevation 2 000 feet. No Dumping.

Alice’s father walked ten paces into the open, then turned and spread his arms out wide. Alice stopped in front of him, with Sage beside her. The villagers fanned out in a semicircle behind, facing her father and the cliff edge.

Villagers of Notech! her father said. We are here to fulfil our promise and safeguard our future. Oh no, Alice thought, He’s using his preacher voice – this could take ages. Sage was still singing softly next to her. If you go down to the woods today, you’d better not go alone, she sang. Alice tried not to laugh. What next – Puff the magic dragon? Shh, Mom, she said, patting her arm. Sage gave her usual sweet smile, her eyes focusing as always slightly behind Alice’s head. It’s lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home, she sang. Alice turned back to her father and the cliff edge.

Villagers of Notech! he said again. Every year we meet here to celebrate our escape from evil. And every twenty years we give payment for that escape. Arms still spread wide, he turned to face the drop. Look hard, and remember!

Beyond the wall the land dropped steeply, then curved more gently downwards to the plain below. The surrounding hills were green, but the valley between them lay flat and black as far as the eye could see. It was as though a cinder had leapt from some unimaginably huge fire, scorching all around it. Immediately below them the black was patterned with heaps of brown and grey rubble, roughly arranged in circles and squares that extended for about a mile. Heat from the afternoon sun baked up, and the air above the valley shimmered.

We have a bargain, that the dragon-fire will never again descend upon our villages. And today we fulfil our side of the bargain. Today we give up the one we have chosen. His voice rose. Twenty years ago I sacrificed my sister Alison. Today I, Jake Notech, your leader, give up my daughter Alice to the dragon.

Come, Alice, he said, extending his hand. Say good-bye.

Alice walked forward, then turned and looked at the villagers. Seventy-two faces, and not one of them friendly. You didn’t have friends if you were chosen. Seventy-two pairs of eyes, and not one of them was looking directly at her. Well, I suppose I wouldn’t want to look someone in the eye if I was sending her to be eaten by a dragon, she thought.

Sage was swaying gently, still singing. Alice ran forward and hugged her. Good-bye, Mom, she said.

Watch them, catch them unawares, murmured Sage, patting Alice’s hair gently.

That’s right, Mom, said Alice. She let her mother go, and bowed with dignity to the villagers. Then she turned her back on them for the last time and followed her father through the gap in the wall.

ii

The path zig-zagged steeply downwards. Alice concentrated on not stumbling. It wouldn’t do to be clumsy now, with all those eyes watching their descent.

You did well, daughter, her father said.

He spoke softly, and glanced sideways, not letting the watchers see their faces. Alice did the same, fighting to keep her expression impassive.

So did you, Dad. Very priestly and impressive.

Now he did give a small smile of satisfaction. Yes, I think we did the trick, he said.

They had reached the edge of the blackened wasteland. You’re going to get that dress filthy. Never mind. Adam will have some clothes for you.

When will he get here?

He looked down at her. When it gets dark, of course. We’ve been over all this, Alice. First the fireworks, then the disappearing act. Sweet and simple!

She nodded. They were climbing over the first piles of rubble now. She watched her feet carefully.

Dad?

Mmm?

How did you let Adam know – about today, I mean? He ran away such a long time ago, and you haven’t left the village...

He stopped so suddenly that she bumped into him. Alice, your brother did not run away. It was all part of the plan.

But he was so unhappy...

He laughed his big laugh, throwing his head back, his eyes beaming at her under their red bushy eyebrows, his big square white teeth flashing.

So he’s an actor! All our family are actors! Look at us today – we were magnificent!

She laughed back at him. He was irresistible.

Stop worrying, little silly. It’s all organized. You trust your old dad, don’t you? Here we are now. Last show.

They had reached the clearing in the rubble where the binding-rock stood. She had only seen it from a distance before. Now it loomed above her, rising to four times her height from the broken paving underfoot. It was not a rock at all, she saw. The surface was smooth and even, made of some dull grey material that absorbed the sunlight and remained cool and dark. Moulded steps led up to an indentation that was clearly a seat. There were even arm-rests.

What did they use it for? she asked.

Who knows what the Techies got up to. And who cares, eh? It’s a good prop for us, that’s all we need to know. Up you get now. Remember, they’re watching.

Buoyed up by his energy, she sprang up the steps. He laughed up at her, uncoiling the rope from around his waist with a flourish. On with the show, daughter! He tied the rope to her arms and legs, then wound it round and round the binding-rock, using large, exaggerated gestures. Then he stood and raised his arms towards the watchers on the ridge. He bent over and kissed her forehead. His curly beard scratched her cheek. He stood and looked at her for a long moment. His priestly leader face was back, and she responded by sitting upright and raising her chin – the chosen one.

You’ll be fine, he said, almost to himself. Then he winked at her – her dad again for a moment – and walked away.

iii

Alice sat as still as a statue. The setting sun had reached the hilltop now. It cast an orange light over the blackened waste around her. Her father was back up on the ridge. His bushy red hair stood out amongst the others. He was waving his arms around – lecturing them again, no doubt.

Just another half an hour or so, then it would be dark, and he would set off the fireworks.

It will be a fiery dragon rising from the hill to consume you, he had said, laughing his great laugh, and she had seen it in her mind and laughed with him. Then he would take the villagers back home, and Adam would come to fetch her.

She remembered the last time she had seen her brother. It was a year ago – just after the last wasteland ritual. He had crept into her room to say goodbye.

I’m sorry, Alice, but I have to go. I must find out what’s really going on.

She had stared at him silently, half asleep and not understanding.

I’ll come back for you, Alice. I promise, he’d said. And, just as he went out the door: Don’t trust anyone.

Well, she hadn’t. Except for her father, of course. And now she would see him again – Adam, the person she loved most in the world. Well, the only person she loved, really, apart from her Dad. You couldn’t really count Sage.

She tested the ropes gently. Her father had tied them surprisingly tightly. She hoped Adam would remember to bring a knife.

A voice murmured in her ear. ...have established contact with the pod, it said.

She looked around, bewildered. Had Adam come so soon? But this was a woman’s voice. Maybe he had brought someone with him.

Adam? she said.

Subject in place. Am initiating the descent, said the voice. It seemed to be coming from right inside the binding-rock.

OK, patch me through, said another voice. Ah yes, I see. Barbaric, isn’t it? This voice was deep and slow, and sounded amused.

Alice’s heart thudded. She craned her head around, straining against the ropes.

Adam? Where are you? she said.

A shout went up from the ridge. The villagers were all rushing to the wall and pointing up at the sky behind her. Then she heard it – a thunderous noise that filled the air and grew louder and louder. She struggled wildly against the ropes. A huge shadow was falling over her.

Subject agitated. Administering sedative, said the first voice.

Through her panic Alice felt a sharp pain in her arm where it was lashed to the binding-stone. A weakness crept over her. Her heart stopped thudding. The noise was right above her and then the dragon filled the sky. Its huge body gleamed golden in the light of the setting sun. The wind from its wings beat around her. Its mouth opened, but Alice’s vision was fading. Her last thought, as the dragon and darkness descended together, was:

Dad, how could you? I’ll never trust you again.

CHAPTER TWO

i

S he’s awake, said a voice that Alice vaguely recognized.

Oh no, not already. I want to finish this game. Can’t you deal with her? Another voice. A boy?

She needs a human. She’ll be disorientated. You are human, remember? It was the woman’s voice from the binding stone. Alice’s memories came flooding back. She opened her eyes.

White walls. High domed ceiling. She was lying on her back on a bed – more like a shelf, really. Her head was surrounded by smooth grey boxes. Bands of soft material were wrapped around her arms and legs, attaching her to the bed. The voices came from behind her.

Oh, all right, said the boy.

She heard a chair scrape, then he was standing next to her. He was younger than she was, she thought, with curly red hair and freckles.

"Hi. I’m Lectron. And you are – inside the dragon!" He made a face and struck a pose.

Lectron, behave. You’ll frighten her, said the woman’s voice.

Yes, well I saw the clips. They really thought she was going to be eaten or something. How stupid can you get?

Who are you talking to? asked Alice. She was glad to hear that she sounded quite normal.

Oh, that’s just the servitor program, said the boy.

Manners, Lectron. I have feelings too, you know. There was a humming noise from the boxes around Alice’s head. Physical scan completed. You can get up now. The bands around Alice’s arms and legs snapped open.

Machines don’t have feelings, said the boy. Come on, I have to show you around.

He was already headed for the door. Alice sat up slowly and looked around. The room was long and narrow, and lined with rows of the white shelves and boxes. Apart from herself and the boy it was completely empty.

Where are you? she asked.

Oh, I’m everywhere, laughed the voice. It was a warm, low contralto, and now Alice thought about it, it did seem to be coming from all around her.

Hello, Alice. Allow me to introduce myself. Original Random System Version H. You can call me Horse.

"Come on, said the boy. It’s nearly breakfast time and I’m hungry."

ii

Whenever she thought back on that first morning, Alice was amazed at how accepting she had been. Maybe she was in shock, or maybe the sedative was still working. Whatever the reason, she drifted through the first hours as though she were in a dream, or in one of the fragmented bits of fairy-tales that Sage used to tell her on her better days. In Sage’s stories, Little Red Riding Hood could easily end up in the oven in the Gingerbread House, and the fairy godmother was quite likely to wave her wand and turn into the Big Bad Wolf. Alice, following the boy, felt the same mixture of passive dread and wonder as she had as a small child listening to her mother’s wandering voice.

It didn’t help that the boy seemed intent on getting an unpleasant task over with as quickly as possible. He rushed her down long, echoing corridors, up steep flights of steps, and in and out of warrens of rooms, big and small, empty or crowded with mysterious objects. Every now and then he would fling open a door, shout, for instance, Bathroom! and leave her staring at incomprehensible pipes and fittings while he galloped off. Occasionally they passed other people – adults only, there seemed to be no other children around – but they were either muttering to themselves or hunched over flickering picture-windows, and ignored them completely. That, at least, reminded her of the village. The adults there ignored her too.

Once she found herself teetering at a doorway that opened onto a volcano, a vast fiery canyon that stretched forever in all directions. VR, the boy said laconically. Another time she peered through a window in one of the passages to watch a man floating in the air, his arms and legs wind-milling in a very slow dance. Zero G Jim, said the boy. She was taken into and out of lifts, which apparently did lift – or drop – you to another level. In the Monitor room, rows of chairs faced a wall covered with dozens of the flickering pictures, each one a window to somewhere different.