“Eh, let her go.” Chand holds me back from following. His replacement forearm is almost as strong as my full replacement arm. “We’ll get on The Mechanic’s good side, right?”
After a few minutes, the heavy metal door swings open and the Red Hand Council members leave, one at a time. Dispersing in different directions through different exits. General Shankar disappears through a hatch and another tunnel entirely.
Masiji is last. “Where’s Maigh? Eh, no matter. You can go.” She nods to Chand. “I need to have a word with Ashiva.”
Chand raises his eyebrows at me, then leaves.
When only the rushing of water surrounds us, she leans in close. “Ashiva. I have your trust?”
“Of course, always.” I put my hand on my chest signaling the Red Hand.
“Good. I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to keep an eye on General Shankar’s whereabouts. Make sure he stays in the Narrows. I fear he might do something drastic that could ruin our chances of having a successful mission.”
“A basic trace? I . . . I can have Saachi run it.”
“Yes, a trace. But this one needs to be quiet. Thik hai?” she says.
“So, a quiet trace. You need me to have Saachi set it up, but keep quiet about it and you need me to clear her tracks?”
She nods. “Just set up a line to ping me his whereabouts every hour.”
“No problem.” Silence separates us. Her mind seems full, but words don’t come. It’s like she wants to tell me a story, but now’s not the time. “Anything else?”
Her heavy hand rests on my shoulder. “You’ve learned the lineage, correct?”
“Of course. We all have. In order to keep the Red Hand going, we all need to be prepared for a cataclysm.”
“It must continue regardless of who’s at the helm. I know I can trust you.”
“Masiji, what are you saying?”
“These are funny times, is all. I need to know I can trust General Shankar to work with us, to act together as a united front. I’d hate for him to launch an attack without coordination. My biggest concern is the care and well-being of the Children of Without.”
“I know.” I think about Taru, about protecting her above all else.
“Good, Ashiva. That’s all,” she leans against the wall and nods her head, asking me to leave.
But something doesn’t sit right. As I walk back to the Narrows, I listen to the water rushing around me and wonder if it’s rising. Rats run along the tunnel as I pass, awakened by my heavy steps. I watch a large rodent scurry away on its six legs with a small bird wing in its mouth.
9 //
Ashiva
When Solace came online and the Uplanders’ neural-synchs linked, we anticipated menial labor would be eliminated in the city. They’d be optimized and would have no need for low-level workers, as bots would do the smaller jobs. We prepared for that. We weren’t surprised when middle- and upper-management went too. Push people further towards the inevitable and they end up accepting crazy things. But then they lined up those who didn’t pass the Solace test, and most went peacefully to the Narrows encampment. Okay, well, not peacefully, but we went. The algorithm split up families, friends, colleagues, governments.
But what we didn’t expect was the sound.
It was deadly quiet. No riots, no fighting, no complaining. In a city that was rarely content even during festivals, this wasn’t just unusual. It was unnatural. Like the neural-synch made them inhuman.
And after such a disastrous build up to the neural-synch, to the Ring, to Solace, any sane person in the Province would have expected bloodshed on both sides: anti- and pro-techs. In a place where discontent was commonplace, peace marked a different kind of terror. A terror the Red Hand has been trying to understand and undo since the rollout.
It wasn’t just quiet, it was otherworldly.
Me and my crew were all young then, and most of us couldn’t tell you what it was like before Solace, the UAVs, the Ring, and tests because this was the world we were born into, existing on the cusp of tomorrow, the future just out of our reach. We know what they did wasn’t right, pushing us out of Central to die, and that’s enough for us. That and Masiji’s Narrows. We live by the Red Hand laws.
And the Commander just asked me to break one of the most vital laws that carries a punishment of the corporal kind.
It’s illegal to track each other in the Red Hand, particularly the leaders. It shows distrust. At first, I had no doubt because when the Commander asks me to do something, I do it. Don’t think. But each step away from her allows doubt to grow like a bacterium, making me feel sick and confused. Infected by the thought of betrayal. Back and forth my thoughts go, until finally there’s no way to avoid it: I need to do what Masiji asks. If she’s right, and General Shankar runs an op without coordination, it could tear apart all we’ve worked for up till now. Lives could be at stake.
But he’s hopefully going to be my new leader, and the two have had bad blood between them. People could die even without us achieving our ultimate mission of disrupting AllianceCon, and making our situation known to the world and Planet Watch, in order to unhinge the PAC.
Decision made. I just hope I don’t get caught.
Zami and I hurry along the New Ocean Road, past the submerged ruins of the city, to the undermarket. Old neon signs sway in the growing ocean breeze announcing their wares: jalebis, samosas, medicine, charging stations. Hawkers selling storage devices, cyborg parts, and offline hacked tech whisper in code as we pass. All illegal and essential.
To the left are Central’s new structures, spiraling upwards; to the right the dark sea churns and rises, higher and higher. Soon there’ll be nowhere for us to go.
“Psst. Check out my newest ladders, cleaned them myself.” A small boy named Rao always sits at the same corner. His fuzzy cowlick on the back of his head makes him seem young, silly, and sweet. Something precious. He’s in the Red Hand, but just as an assistant. He’s kind, not a bit of fight in him. So Masiji allows those like him to work as errand boys to keep them out of trouble.
“Nahi,” Zami pushes the eager boy back. “We don’t need an uplink, chota bhai.”
“What about my sweets? Ma makes them every morning. Well, not every morning, but weekly. You know what I mean.” He lifts a scarf from a platter of square, blue sweets.
I toss him a mark and take the sweet snack he’s selling. “Your mother’s a good cook.”
“Shukriya, sister. And if you ever have an errand . . .”
I stop walking and lean closer to him. “Thanks, Rao. Not today. Leave the hard work to us.” I tousle his hair and we keep going.
Zami says, “Makes me not want to walk through the market. Maybe we should find a new space. He’s chatty.”
“It’s alright. One mark can change his night from bad to fine. It’s better if we keep our location in the market. Everyone feels safer because of it. Civilians protect our identities, and we protect them.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. And the Red Hand needs a location in the market. Stay at the front of people’s minds. But still, you see one person and stop to help them.”
“That’s a problem?” I split the snack with Zami, who takes it willingly.
“Yeah,” he says as he chews. “All it takes is one rat, you know?”
“Have faith, Zamir. He’s a good kid.”
“You can’t save everyone, behanji. Not everyone in the Narrows can be trusted.”
I stomp past Zami.
“What?” he says to my shadow.
“You don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“If Solace decides who is good enough to be optimized to live and work in Central, what’s the difference if we decide who should live and die here? If we can’t believe in our allies, we are lost,” I say.
“Ahh, come on, behanji. I was just being real—wait for me!”
Zami reminds me of me when I was younger, before I understood the cost of it all.<
br />
I step over the hawker selling refurbished wires, batteries and various torches. A sentry for the Red Hand. Kneeling, I let the light from one of her lanterns illuminate my face without my veil. She flips a lever, unlocking a door behind her. As I push open the door to the abandoned office building, I switch on my flashlight and make my way through the darkness. Zami catches up, and when we reach the elevator, he jumps in too. In our office space, I unlock the door and lock it behind us again. The old locks are beautiful; the key turns with a satisfying click.
Screens flash with lines of code and I hear Saachi’s voice before I see her. “I was beginning to think you weren’t showing up tonight.”
“Why would you think that?” Zami puts his arm around her and gives her a half hug. “I’d never leave you.”
Saachi punches him in the chest, and he feigns pain. “Sometimes I wish you would leave.” They laugh. I’m about to burst with my orders. Even though I decided to go forward with it, it’s cutting me up inside.
Saachi is older than us and has vast connections. She’s one of the tech leads for the Red Hand—the tech we aren’t supposed to have. And she runs a team of biohackers who trade materials on the underweb and refurbish them for replacements. She’s tall and smart and boyish, a chameleon. And the best experimental scientist in the SA, maybe even in the Province, in my eyes at least. We run our programs on machines not connected to Solace. Our network is so old and slow, but it’s usually undetectable and is our one connection to the underweb. If Solace looks for us, it’d be like a mecha robot looking for microbes underfoot—wishful, but impossible.
“It’s been quiet tonight,” Saachi says as she keys in code and watches the virtual screen like she watches ocean waves. She holds a snack in one hand and nibbles her fingernails. I don’t know how she multitasks like she does.
“Were you the one who got pinged?” Zami blurts out. I hit him in the arm with my flesh fist.
“Nah, not my gig. I think that must have been someone closer to Masiji’s inner network. I heard though. Damn crazy. You ready for the reunification of the Hand?”
I nod. “Been waiting for this my whole life.” For the first time ever, I am excited about the possibility of putting my training into action. To use my knowledge of weapons, formations, and battle studies in the field. But then a cloud hits me. “But first, I’ve got a high priority project,” I spit it out. “Orders from the Commander.”
“Of course. What is it?” Saachi and Zami listen.
“To keep tabs on General Shankar.” I watch their faces, waiting for the questions.
Saachi turns to me with surprise. “What? Isn’t that against the Red Hand law? The Liberation Hand isn’t governed by anyone. Not even the Commander can tell them what to do. Not even if the Red Hand is reunited. It’s treason.”
Zami shakes his head and lifts his hands like he’s letting go of an invisible weight. “Yeah, no thanks. If he finds out, we’re as good as dead. He scares me more than Masiji.”
“Masiji says that she thinks he’s planning something big. That they need to stay in the Narrows until the tensions clear. I ran security for the Council meeting. He was there.”
“You saw him?” Saachi says. “What’s he look like?”
I nod. “Tall and impossible, like a mountain. We have to run an hourly trace is all. He’ll never even know. If he finds out, she’ll defend us. I know it.”
“Fine. But I— it wasn’t me.”
“Didn’t do it, didn’t see it, don’t know. I know.” I nod silently agreeing to take the fall if it goes south.
“Oh hey, I finished something for you.” Saachi pulls up an image on one of her screens. It’s a squarish, super pixilated image with two ear-like shapes on its head, and a wagging tail out its side. It could be an animal. “Tada!”
“What the heck is that?” Zami laughs.
“Come on! It took me hours to make it look so bad. It’s the replica that you needed.” We stare blankly. “That ancient artifact digi-pet? For your hacking challenge. You have to feed it every few hours or it will die. See?” She sends a square to the digi-pet’s mouth and it wags its tail. “Originally they were inside these little plastic bits. But my underweb version is pretty cute, I think.”
“Oh! Wow, it’s so basic. I thought it’d be more . . . I dunno . . .” I say shocked. “Why were these ever a thing?”
“No one knows.” We laugh together. “But they’re gold on the underweb. I made a program to replicate the original. At least I think I did. Whatever. It’s all about pride for the challenge anyway, right?”
“It’s adorable.” Zami sighs so loud it’s more like a grunt. “Someone’ll pick up the challenge, right?”
“We should plan for the worst, guys. Solace is tightening the pipeline and in a few short weeks, we might not be able to get onto the underweb. Then what?”
Zami talks with his hands. “Wait to die, I guess. That or pull some Rani of Jhansi style maneuver. All-out attack, swords drawn, you know. Right at the heart of Central. Solace’s liquid memory system. Or take out the Ring.”
“Suicide. They underestimate how many of us are down here, but they have bigger, better weapons. We’ll get electrocuted before we make it into the Ring. Let’s just hope that the bosses figure out a strong assault.”
Zami jogs to his corner of the room and his massive homemade computer station. On the black screen of the comm panel is a window into the underweb, and a short message in white type flashes.
Red Hand: I accept the challenge. The task will be completed to your satisfaction. —Kid Synch.
I laugh aloud. “Whoa, Kid Synch’s got this one? Then it’s as good as done.” I know Synch’s work. They’re a trickster with a nearly invisible signature. Small attacks here and there, nothing too big to draw too much attention. Brilliant stuff.
Zami spins toward me on his black chair. “Check and mate, Synch. This could be everything, Shiv. I mean, with this we would prove our theory of accessibility into Solace, and we could gain Synch’s trust and bring him on as an insider. I need to know why that file is important to Masiji. We’ll finally find out what this Himalaya file is all about.”
“Shh, I know. Let’s not get too excited. They’re probably going to lose their nerve anyway. They always do. But at least this time we have a real coder at work.”
“The Red Hand has made a name for ourselves on the underweb. What can I say? We are cool.”
I tousle Zami’s curly hair. “Don’t let it go to your head. On the underweb you’re a god, but here in our place, you still have to clean up this junk.”
“I know, I know.” He smiles and scans the room full of wires, broken computer parts and motherboards.
Zami looks up at his screen at a flashing red light. “Trouble.”
“Shh.” I signal to Saachi to go dark.
“Someone’s coming. They bypassed my security.”
“Stay here,” I say and Zami doesn’t disagree. “Lock it behind me.”
The empty data center is dark with one light illuminating the entry, just barely.
I say, “Keep walking. This place is taken.”
A voice I don’t recognize speaks in the dark. “I’ve come for you, Ashiva.”
“Me? Good luck with that.” I dig in my heels and stand with my hands in front of me, ready to strike. “Come out of the shadows.”
A figure the size and shape of a man stands in the center of the office ruins. Then I see the glimmer of gold on his teeth and know.
“Jai, flit you,” I say and let my hands hang. “What in the gods’ names are you doing here?”
“What? Aren’t I dangerous enough to warrant a bit of fear? Come on, Ashiva. You always wanna fight.” He shadowboxes like a fool.
I turn to head back inside.
“He wants his marks. Your family is late this quarter,” Jai says.
“Khan Zada.” I face Jai. “Tell him he’ll get his marks when we have marks to give.”
Jai steps so close to
me that I can see the edges of his chin’s scar; he smells of machine oil. “That’s not how it works.”
I shrug and my replacement shoulder moves weakly.
“He knows you have enough, Shiv.”
“What does he know.”
“He has ears, and eyes, and some other body parts working for him,” Jai says.
“Gross.” I turn to reenter the lab.
“Tithe is the only way he can protect the Unsanctioned Territory. Without it, there’d be chaos. You know that.” He winks and I want to pull out his eyelashes one by one.
“What I know is that we pay and pay, and never see anything in return. Only to get hassled by his goons when he wants more in the beginning of our workday. Khan Zada doesn’t help us. He’s a disgrace.”
“Careful, Ashiva.”
“We all know he made deals with the Uplanders. He should only work with us.”
Jai moves toward me to strike, but when he is inches away, he goes in for a kiss instead.
And then I punch him hard in the arm. He’ll have a lumpy bruise for a while. He’s lucky I don’t break it.
“Try that again and I’ll rip off your lips, scoundrel. To match your chin.”
“Okay, okay, Tiger. But remember whose place this is.”
“Er, mine, clearly.”
“No, his. This is his.” Then he uses his chin to point at my arm, my replacement. “That’s property of the Lords of Shadow, girl.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say, but I know he is real as real. “No, it’s not, haraami.”
He leans back against a wall. “Call me a bastard all you want, Ashiva. Khan Zadabhai sees it like this: He gives the Red Hand a pass, the undermarket, your little smuggling operation, all of it. It only works if he faces the right politicians in the right direction, turns their eyes away, see?”
I swallow hard. Not a fan of threats. “He wants my arm?” My heart shakes, but I make sure he doesn’t see me waver.
“No, he wants you and yours to keep their replacements.”
“Look, I’ll get him the tithe tomorrow, okay?”
“Fair enough.” Jai turns to exit. “And, hey, Ashiva, you know, long ago, I was a recruit.”
Rise of the Red Hand Page 9