MILA 2.0: Redemption Read Online Free Page A

though it had been more command than request. His tone reminded me, suddenly, of Holland’s.
    I stood and made my way toward Lucas’s room, knocking on the door with an “It’s me.”
    “Come in.”
    I entered and smiled at the sight that greeted me. Lucas had stuffed a lot of equipment into a tiny space. Two open laptops gleamed on top of his desk, while off to the side were three desktop computers, stacked in precarious towers. A full-size monitor fought for space with the laptops, while another one sprawled on the floor near Lucas’s feet. Several fancy routers shimmered with green and blue lights, their silver casings lit by the glow of the desk lamp.
    Lucas’s fingers flew over keys, his eyes roving over the content that popped up on the monitors.
    Code, mainly, I realized as I read over his shoulder. Mostly hacked. One IP address in particular caught my eye and I flinched.
    He was deep in an attempt to infiltrate SMART Ops—Holland’s brainchild. The organization responsible for making me.
    “What are you up to?”
    “Just following a hunch,” he replied.
    “Need any help?” I asked, even though I knew how Lucas would respond. He was afraid if I hacked into any covert network using my android functions, I might tip someone off to our whereabouts. He’d cautioned me against using so much as my GPS. For now, anything that could leave behind even a whiff of my IP address was banned . . . until he could figure out a way to cloak my information and keep me from detection.
    Lucas continued to bite his lip, ignoring me for a second as he scanned more information. His body practically hummed with intensity in the chair. I smiled when I saw the hair on the right side of his head standing straight up, the result of his fingers raking through when he was deep in thought.
    Tim might have meant “Boy Genius” as a dig, but I found nothing insulting about it. Lucas, in his quiet, brainy way, was a force to be reckoned with.
    “No, not tonight. I just need to . . . crap!”
    A page he’d been looking at vanished. His shoulders slumped for an instant before squaring again. “Oh, no, you don’t . . .” he muttered. The tapping resumed.
    While I was thankful for all that he was doing on my behalf, I couldn’t have felt more helpless if I tried. Here I was, this miracle of technology, yet all I could do was twiddle my thumbs and contemplate the universe and myunbelievable, potentially destructive role in it. I hated feeling sorry for myself, but my emotions once again had free rein since Quinn’s program had been reversed.
    Which was usually a relief. Just not so much at this exact moment.
    “Well, dinner’s ready,” I said. “Smells like rabbit. Maybe we can strain the meat out and just leave the fur clumps—that still counts as vegetarian, right?”
    Lucas was so focused on his work that he barely noticed my lame joke. “Okay, be there in a minute.”
    “Actually, I think I’m going to wind down upstairs,” I said.
    “You sure?”
    “Yeah, it’s been a while since my last sleep cycle. Probably should catch up. Tell Tim my stomach is bothering me again, okay?”
    It wasn’t a lie. My stomach was definitely bothering me, in the sense that the gut-esque portion of my anatomy felt like it was churning away.
    “Will do. Good night,” he said with an absent wave.
    I closed the door behind me and climbed the stairs to my tiny room in the loft. The twin bed was squished up next to a shabby pine chest of drawers. Stark wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, and a real fur rug took up most of the bare floor. Every time my bare feet touched the soft hair, I couldn’t help but wonder how the animal had died. Had theanimal known it was being hunted, and run for its life? Or had the hunter startled it? Caught it by surprise?
    I hopped onto the bed, vowing to shove the rug in the closet come morning. We’d been here for over a week, and while the respite was desperately needed, I knew from experience just how