Lillith

Author

Suzanna A. Levis

Reads

59.0K

Chapters

Author

Suzanna A. Levis

Reads

59.0K

Chapters

🚀 Science Fiction 😱 Thriller 💪 Strong Women 🎭 Drama

Chapter 1: Human Dilemma

VERONICA

I slip the joint between my lips and light it up before sliding my Zippo into my back pocket.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be getting high?” Lillith’s voice echoes through the implant in my head.

“If I wanted your opinion… I got nothing; the wheels are spinning, but the hamster’s dead,” I roll my eyes.

I hold the remote control console with its built-in monitor, but the screen doesn’t turn on. I give it a little high-tech fix by whacking it with the heel of my palm. The screen lights up, and we’re ready to race.

“All right, let’s get these bitches in the air.”

The automated panels in the roof open up as I drop onto one of the lawn chairs set up on the rooftop. We usually come up here to get hammered, but the sun’s not up yet.

Under the cover of darkness, we can test the newest drones without drawing too much attention—not as if there’s anyone living around this shithole. It’s why we’re here.

Three drones zip out of the roof and hover in formation in front of me. One of them is hovering a little crooked.

“What’s wrong with number three?”

I check the monitor and see Lillith running a diagnostic in real time. “Hardware issue; I’ll swap it out.”

Drone three zips back inside, and almost instantly, another drone comes out to replace it in the formation.

We’ve been using drones for a long time now, mostly for recon or following targets, but when you have a lot of time on your hands, the craziness starts to seep in. I’ve weaponized these ones—what’s the point of being a super genius if you can’t dive into the mad scientist trope every now and then?

“It looks good,” I say, putting down the monitor and taking a moment to take a couple hits before picking up the other remote for the drone I’ll be piloting.

“Bring mine out, please.”

Another panel in the roof opens up—my tiny drone flies out and hovers right next to my head.

I don’t know why, but I love these things probably more than I should—they’re like my little pets, just not as fluffy, and they don’t love me back.

I don’t get too attached, knowing this one’s about to get shot down in the next few minutes. Lillith will fly the other three and try to shoot mine down—I don’t expect to outfly her for longer than a minute, but I can sure as shit try.

“Are you ready?” I ask Lil.

“I was born ready,” she quips.

I snicker with my joint hanging off my lip. “Hilarious.”

I get to my feet, walk to the edge of the building, and fly my drone along with me. I built this one to be stealthy—I can’t help but feel giddy at how quiet it is.

I’m definitely making more of these.

“Do you require a head start?” Lillith asks.

“I’ve never been more insulted in my entire life.” I fly my drone off into the night and steal my head start, laughing like a maniac.

Thirty seconds—I don’t even make it a minute before Lillith shoots my drone down.

Bitch.

I sigh and shut down my remote. Lillith’s drones mockingly zip around me before flying back into the building.

I sit back on one of the lawn chairs and have a look through the flight data.

“Looks good,” I say to myself. “I think we should use aluminum to make it lighter next time.”

My thoughts lead me down a sinister path, envisioning the creation of an assassination drone equipped with chameleon DNA for seamless camouflage. If I can keep it compact, it might just work.

Perhaps I can use an air rifle for the prototype and target my friends? It’s a foolproof plan.

That’s my weekend plans sorted.

“Veronica, I’ve had an alert come up,” Lillith says quietly.

I keep scrolling through the drone data, looking for the weapons report.

“Aw yeah? What’s Russia done now? Should we send them all more erectile dysfunction meds?”

I snicker, but when Lillith says nothing, I know something’s wrong. She doesn’t pause for dramatic effect—she’s processing something that isn’t data.

At her capacity, Lillith can hack the Pentagon in fifteen seconds flat—I know because we did it for kicks when I had a little too much to drink one night.

If she’s stuck on something, it’s a human dilemma, not something she has too much experience with.

“Lillith, what’s happened?” I ask.

“Jonathan Montana was just admitted to the hospital.”

The words hit me hard, and I forget how to breathe. “Which one?”

Jon Montana Sr. is like a father to me, while his son is the crush of my fucking life.

Losing either one would be rough, but if it’s Jr., I’m fucking ending everything. I’m having Lillith hack all the nukes and drop them right onto me. Right here, right now.

“Langone,” Lillith says.

“Not which hospital, which Jonathan Montana?”

“Senior. Heart attack.”

“Jesus Christ, Lill,” I let out a long breath of relief and lean back in the chair. “Way to freak me out. I guess we’d better get over there before they start calling the whole family over.”

I flick my joint from the roof and make my way through the building toward the underground garage.

This building is one of many I own on this block—most of them are empty warehouses or factories that shut down long ago. We like our privacy.

I chose this one to set up shop in because of the green window on the top floor. It’s just a simple, big round window with green glass, but it’s one of the few things that have managed to worm their way into my mind and become sentimental.

Jonathan Montana Sr. brought me here as a kid right when he bought the building, and I thought the way the sunlight shone through that window was pure magic.

They used to make glass in this building; you can still go to the lower floors and find old kilns, bits of glass, and strange, random tools long forgotten.

As I start up my motorbike, Lillith runs me through all the updates being entered into Montana’s medical file.

“According to this, he’s going to need a triple heart bypass,” she adds.

I pause, knowing that at his age, it’s unlikely he’ll survive the procedure. “With the information you have, what are his chances of survival?”

“Without us treating him, his chance of survival is thirty-eight percent.”

“Fuck. Maybe mention that a little earlier.” I put on my helmet. “Lillith, start designing some medical drones. Something that we can fly out automatically when shit like this happens.”

When I make it to the hospital, Lillith automatically accesses every camera and replaces my face live as it records—today, she’s using Cookie Monster. Sure, Lillith is the reason I’m in hiding, but she’s also the only reason I can go out and about in public and not get caught.

Everything in this world is connected to some network, and luckily for me, Lillith is a god. Cameras? Easy-peasy. Satellites? Lemon squeezy.

Sure, there are risks involved in creating a self-aware, omnipotent artificial intelligence and then giving it access to the internet. I’ve run all the simulations, hell, I’ve seen all the movies, but whoever made any progress without taking any risks?

Am I mad? Probably. Am I risking the whole planet and every living being on it? Um, no comment.

Do I still wear a baseball cap whenever I go places to hide my face? Yes, because I’m old-school like that. People have eyes, too.

I make my way through the hospital, trying my best not to look suspicious. At this time of night, the only people allowed in are hospital staff, so I make sure not to be seen.

In such a swanky private hospital like this, I should have worn a disguise or something. My ego’s gotten too big for my logic, and I wave off the idea of stealing a hospital gown.

“Which way?” I ask Lillith quietly.

“Next left. Room seventy eighty-eight.”

I sigh as I take the left, trying to shake off how much I hate hospitals—most of my memories of my mother are of her in a hospital.

Don’t worry, Mom, I got him for you.

Reading the numbers on the doors, I know the next one will be Jon Sr.’s. There’s a large glass window in that room the nurses can use for observation.

I take out the vial of nanobots and peek in to see the bed empty. If I can get the nanobots into his system as soon as possible, they might help enough to raise his chances of survival.

“How long until they’re done operating?”

“Not long now.”

“How long is not long, Lill?”

“Ten to twenty minutes.”

I look over at the nurses’ station—Lillith has sent them all on wild goose chases to clear the area.

I look back into the room to see someone moving in the darkness. The man stands looking out the window—he’s so still I hardly notice him.

Even from here, I know it’s him—Jon Jr.—my Jon Jr. My heart speeds up, and anxiety grips my chest.

All I have to do is think of him, and my body has such a visceral reaction, it’s like taking drugs.

My mind wanders, imagining what his hand would feel like sliding around my throat as he fucked me. I slap myself and hide.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” I growl at Lillith.

“I must have missed it,” Lillith lies.

I scoff. “What the fuck are you playing at, Lill?”

Lillith says nothing.

“Lillith? How am I supposed to inject his dad with nanos if he’s here? Who the fuck let him in at this time anyway?”

“He’s gone. Jonathan Montana Sr. has just been classified as deceased.”

My hand tightens around the vial. “Fuck.”

I look into the hospital room to see Jon still staring out the window.

“You need to leave. I’ve kept the floor clear as long as possible,” Lillith says.

I don’t have much of a heart, but when I look at Jon, I know his heart will break the moment he learns his dad is gone.

I don’t know what it’s like to love a father—Jon’s dad is the closest I ever came to having one, but even then, I was always kept at a distance.

That, and I kept my distance from anyone who tried. Not that it ever entailed anyone—I was always the freak. No one wants to get close to the freak. That would make you freakish by association.

“Excuse me, miss,” someone asks from behind me, but I ignore them, unable to tear my eyes off the dark figure that is Jon.

He snapped when his mom died. What’s going to happen when he finds out his dad is gone too? I ask myself solemnly.

“Miss, you can’t be here,” the annoying man behind me speaks up. “I’m calling security.”

I keep my mouth shut and leave, knowing if I engage in conversation, I’m bound to get myself into the worst sort of trouble.