Malak's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

After the new signal flew, Malak returned to the labyrinth and saw the screen flickering. Names were vanishing in rows. The corporation was wiping files faster than he could pull them. He set the scepter down and began to copy. He sent the mechanical pigeons out one by one. Each bird carried a name in its chest, a fragment of a file, a face. They flew in pairs to the shrine outside, where every saved identity was carved into the stone. He worked the keys until his hands shook. But the wipe was faster than his copy. For every three names he saved, ten more blinked out. He walked outside to the tall glass angel that stood at the edge of the sand. Its wings were marked with cuts, one for each lost person. New cuts opened as he watched. Malak stopped. He could not win this race with his hands. He pulled the hawk from its perch and tied a single command to its leg — a kill order for the archive servers themselves. If he could not save them all, he would freeze the wipe at its source. The hawk flew. Hours passed. The screen stilled. The wipe stopped, but so did his quiet way in. The corporation now knew something had reached inside. He stood before the shrine and counted what he had saved, and before the angel and counted what he had not. The names he kept were safe. The names he lost were gone. And the corporation, for the first time, was looking straight at him.