Myst and Ink, Book 1

by HD Smith

  “Oh, umm, no. I’ll explain that tomorrow, but it’s not hypos. We use needles here.”

  My face went slack, then I smiled to recover. “You use a real silver-based needle? That seems expensive.”

  “The drug has to be placed in a very specific location to activate. The hypo-injectors spread out the serum, which dilutes the material and makes it ineffective. Anyway, we’ll go over that tomorrow. I came by to walk you out.”

  “That’s okay, Jeff. I’m not done yet, and I hate to make you wait,” I said.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it. A moment later, he spoke. “With everything winding down, you don’t have to work late,” he said, as if that was why I needed to stay. “Final test starts tomorrow.”

  “Good to know, but as I said, I’m not done yet. I have a few more things to review, then I’ll be heading out. Thanks again for all your help today. You may go.”

  Jeff hesitated, as if he didn’t want to leave me alone in the lab, which was ridiculous. Unless, of course, he’d been told who I really was. If so, that meant he was complicit in the cover-up and probably knew that Miko was dead. He glanced around the office one more time, then smiled.

  “Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he said, before turning to leave.

  7

  Fantasy Kingdom, Lux, Monday, 21:00 LTZ

  Liam

  There were benefits to having an almost unlimited set of House spells designed to hide your identity. It let you do things like drop off packages disguised as your old nanny or attend a rave at one of the hottest clubs on Lux as an average Joe.

  I could have jumped directly to my destination, a club called the Fantasy Kingdom, but Lux was known for its myst-infused street raves, and I needed a minute to decompress, so I opted to walk there.

  I was wearing a glamour designed to blend into the crowd. I didn’t want anyone taking a second look.

  A few meters from the public terminal street entrance, a man dressed in a dingy green robe was sitting on the sidewalk. He had a digital sign projected over his head.

  The sign read, “Lucy is great! Down to all the disbelievers. Lucy will save us. Walk away from the digital life of nothing. Join me in the light of salvation and freedom on Hera.” Then it repeated. Each sentence was a statement to the will of the faithful.

  I was surprised to see a street prophet on Lux, where the guest experience was paramount. Having a member of the sect here to interrupt the fun seemed counterintuitive. Of course, he was as far off the main strip as he could be and still be in an area that got foot traffic.

  “Are you a believer, my son?” the robed man asked.

  I shook my head and continued walking.

  A warning flashed on my display. The man’s digital sign was emitting a low frequency spam bot. If my systems hadn’t been so well protected, he would have tagged me as an interested believer, which meant he probably worked for one of the major advertisers—the ones that claimed to be providing a service based on interest. In reality, most of these services also had hooks to the shadier sides of Worlds Government—the ones that tried to figure out who should be watched and targeted.

  Worlds Religion, especially the general Lucy follower, was one of the major breeding grounds for extremists in the Known Worlds. The sects that worshiped Lucy could be hired to help with any number of campaigns meant to scare communities. They were mercenaries who believed they were doing something to prevent our fall. If they also made a profit, what was the harm in that? Or so their philosophy went.

  House Vance and the Twyll Corporation used their services extensively, all to advance their business model and get Peacekeepers in all Known Worlds sectors. Their stranglehold on the security market was nearly complete. There were only a few major holdouts that refused to use Peacekeepers and insisted on human guards.

  Lux had fantasy mechs, but very few standard Peacekeepers were allowed on world. There were a lot of B-Series mechs here and plainclothes security, which was probably why the street prophet pissed me off.

  Step one, infiltrate the enemy stronghold.

  I wouldn’t let this prophet continue his work. I used my Peacekeeper anti-bot protocols to zap his sign, turning off the spam-bot and his display. I could have left him sitting there with a broken bot, but this way he’d have to leave.

  I messaged Dexter.

  LIAM: Street prophet seen near the entrance to public terminal A64 on Lux. File an anonymous report with the WLA for unauthorized use of spam-bot tech

  DEXTER: Will do

  The main strip in this sector of Lux was designed as an arc with walking paths radiating out as spokes from the curved road to each of the seven main venues, which included two giant hotels perched high in the sky atop industrial glass pedestals that each rose over a hundred meters. The ground-based businesses were just as posh. Everything on Lux was targeted at the ultra rich.

  I headed toward the wildest club on Lux, a gothic pleasure palace called the Fantasy Kingdom. It was a cross between a nightclub and dance party. I added cat ears and a visual effects tail to my glamour, because the club required some form of non-human illusion to get in. The rest of my outfit, dark jeans and synthetic cotton button-down, could have been a standard look on any mid-twenty-something walking around any normal Known Worlds neighborhood.

  Lux drew elites from every House. If you wanted to see someone famous, or infamous, all you had to do was show up. Within five minutes of arriving at the venue, I’d already spotted two future Heads and a member of royalty, all about to have sex in a dark corner of the club.

  Of course, I only knew who the fantasy elites were because of my magic. I had House spells that let me scan a person’s chip from a distance. The glamours here were too good to see through. Anyone looking at me would think I really had ears and a tail. And anyone looking at the royal would see a stunning, all-gold-skinned humanoid with a strikingly intricate fox face. I knew the fox was really Jasmine Windsor of House Windsor, an elite who normally wore expensive gowns, lavish jewels, and impeccably flawless make-up. Not that any of Fantasy Kingdom’s excesses were all that surprising among the rich clientele that frequented Lux. It was my experience that no one’s public persona, outer appearance, or inner personality was who they really were. It was all an illusion, a manufactured façade to place themselves above the rest. None of them, me included, were ever this perfect without spells.

  I was looking for a very specific elite tonight. Oliver Storm was the epitome of wealth, privilege, and trouble. I’d known him since I was sixteen, and if not for a whole lot of chance, I’d have never met him.

  On my sixteenth birthday, my ultra-conservative parents had been forced by my grandfather to send me to Ridgewood Prep, an elites-only boarding school on Vale, because as future Head of House Vance, I’d need the connections that a school like that would foster.

  I had met Oliver the day he was supposed to get expelled from Ridgewood. He’d been waiting to speak to the Headmaster when my parents dropped me off at the school. Oliver lied and said he was my tour guide.

  Oliver and I became more than friends, but his reckless nature and our unauthorized trip to Lux our junior year was what eventually got him expelled.

  I was an idiot for trying to find him now, but I’d heard my cousin Clara had been seen with his entourage, and I wanted to know she was okay. Not that I expected Oliver to try anything, but as Dalton Vance’s only child, Clara was the heir presumptive of House Vance.

  Gemini was a closed society, but just like with other powerful corporations, the rules didn’t apply to those at the top of Twyll Corp. As a future ruler, Clara had to join Known Worlds society. Her father had never been as conservative as mine, but before Dalton stole the House from me, she hadn’t been in a position of importance. And she was female, which mattered to the jackasses that created Gemini’s constitution. Dalton probably expected to live forever, so creating a birthing contract for a chance at a male heir wasn’t a priority for him.

  It wasn’t like Clara or Oliver would
recognize me; the hottest elite in the Known Worlds wasn’t going to look twice at my nobody glamour.

  My virtual field lit up with a new message from Dexter.

  DEXTER: Property acquired. Transaction complete

  Another message popped up on my VF—an electronic deed to the new building.

  DEXTER: I’ve switched over the security. Supplies will be delivered later. We’ll talk specifics tomorrow, but the place is yours

  LIAM: Thanks

  DEXTER: What the Lucy-hell are you doing at the Fantasy Kingdom on Lux?

  I rolled my eyes.

  DEXTER: I know when you roll your eyes, dude

  LIAM: Haha … mind your own business, dude

  DEXTER: Don’t do anything stupid

  Like what, I thought, get close enough to Oliver Storm or my cousin to be recognized?

  LIAM: I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine

  DEXTER: Just make sure you wear a condom … you have no clue where those elites have been

  LIAM: Okay, mom … over and out

  I blocked Dexter from chatting for the next thirty minutes. I didn’t need him in my head telling me not to get laid. I wasn’t here for that tonight anyway.

  I scanned the club, but so far, Oliver wasn’t here. I considered dropping a few spider bots to check the private rooms, but Fantasy Kingdom’s security would probably detect those, and I didn’t need that kind of attention.

  I visually swept the club one more time and still didn’t see him. Apparently it wasn’t my lucky night.

  I turned to leave and was immediately shoulder-checked by a broad-shouldered bodyguard.

  The muscled guy with a deep voice said, “Watch where you’re going, asshole.” He was huge, wearing a skintight t-shirt, devil horns, and leather pants.

  I ignored him until I heard the next voice.

  “He’s the right height,” a slurred voice I knew all too well said. “Scout, ask him to play.”

  I froze. Oliver was here, and he’d spotted my average Joe glamour. This wasn’t good. I should have just kept going. Oliver was drunk, which was never a good thing. A guy from the back of the pack, another security guy dressed as a leather-clad devil, stopped in front of me as Oliver and the rest of his entourage continued on.

  I heard an unmistakable laugh as two girls and a guy in the back of Oliver’s group passed me. The girls were dressed as angel and demon vixens, and the boy was wearing a ridiculous cupid outfit. My chip reader knew the girl in white was Clara. The girl with her was Halifax Xi, an elite of House Xi who was rumored to be in negotiations for a birthing contract with Oliver. She was barking up the wrong tree, but her twin brother Baldwin Xi, tonight’s cupid, might have a chance with him.

  Oliver’s security guy, Scout, flashed his Link at me. My gangly seventeen-year-old self stared back at me from the screen. What the Lucy-hell was this?

  “This is what the boss wants to fuck tonight. You game?” he asked.

  Oliver was looking to fuck a version of me from high school. The one he’d had the night we stole his dad’s travel vouchers and came to Lux to lose my virginity.

  I’d screwed anything and everything that night, including Oliver. Apparently, he hadn’t moved on. Hell, maybe I hadn’t either.

  “What do I have to do?” I asked.

  “Usually the first question is how much.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever, man,” I said, and moved to push past him.

  “Hold up. If you don’t want money, that can be arranged, too. All you have to do is hang with him while he burns off his buzz. No sex.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Unless he wants it and you agree,” Scout corrected. “But most guys can’t play the part well enough to get him revved enough to leave the club. He’ll totally take some head, though.”

  This would be interesting.

  “Sure,” I said, “but how are you planning to make me look like that?”

  The guy pulled out a silver ring. “Put this on your index finger and it will magically transform you to the boss’s wet dream.”

  I took the ring, studying it. The inside of the band was etched with intricate glyphs. I could tell it was Oliver’s work; his craftsmanship was top notch. I’d probably sound like my seventeen-year-old self, too. This was going to be an odd experience. I was glad I’d shut off Dexter’s texts. I didn’t want him chiming in on my bad decisions.

  “How does it work?” I asked.

  “Top secret,” the guy said.

  “I mean, what primes it?”

  “Top secret.”

  “Okay, whatever,” I said, making to toss the ring back toward him.

  “Okay, okay. It has its own myst. Similar to temp tats, just more involved.”

  “Will it work on anyone?”

  “Yeah, but it works better if you already look like the guy. You’ve got the right build, and the ears and tail mean you can activate magic. It’s just spells to make you a different guy.”

  “The guy the boss wants?” I asked.

  “Yeah. So, you interested?”

  How many guys had Oliver done this to? “You find someone every night?”

  “No, just when we’re on Lux and he’s had too much to drink.”

  I looked back at Oliver, who was now sitting in a private booth. Halifax Xi and Clara were with him, but Baldwin the Cupid was awkwardly talking to one of Oliver’s security guys.

  Clara stood. Halifax rose too, but Clara shook her head and pointed toward Oliver before blowing Halifax a kiss. It looks like Oliver wasn’t the only one drunk. Halifax sat down, but didn’t seem all that interested in Oliver. Taking out her Link, she held it up, smiling and posing for a snap-vid.

  “Are you in?” the guy asked again.

  “Yeah, I’m in,” I said, slipping on the ring.

  My outfit morphed into a black skintight synthetic t-shirt with black jeans. My shoes were switched to retro-style black combat boots. I lost the ears and tail from my other look, but since this was Fantasy Kingdom, I gained translucent wings. I could see my reflection in the glossy panel beside me.

  My hair was dark and straight, hanging long on my forehead. My dark blue eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner. I was as close to the seventeen-year-old me as I could get without time travel. This was the me Oliver knew—the me he still wanted.

  “Cute,” I said, sarcastically.

  I hated this hair, and the angsty black nail polish was really over the top. This Cassius didn’t exist anymore, unless you were the richest man in the Known Worlds and could conjure him up when you wanted.

  I turned and marched over to where Oliver was sitting. I kicked his foot to get his attention, then raised one of my eyebrows—a very Cassius-at-seventeen attitude.

  “Is this what you’re looking for, pussycat?” I said.

  His entire entourage went silent. Oliver sobered up quick, sitting up as Scout came running up behind me.

  “Sorry, sir, he…”

  I held up my hand and turned my head toward Oliver’s lackey.

  “Did I say you could speak?” I said to Scout.

  He closed his mouth and remained quiet. Turning back to Oliver, I said, “I asked you a question, pretty boy.”

  Oliver’s lip turned up. He was enjoying this. I was playing a part. The real me wasn’t an asshole with dominance tendencies. But Oliver had given me the reins that night at the Lux, and I might have been drunk and high and getting laid for the first time, so yeah, I had been an overbearing dick. And from the way Oliver was reacting, it was exactly what he wanted to relive.

  I motioned with my head for him to slide over. He did, allowing me to sit where he’d been. Oliver then laid his head on my lap.

  “Fuck me, please,” he said.

  I looked down, into his eyes. “Maybe, if you’re good.”

  He closed his eyes, breathing out a long sigh, and said, “Fuck, you’re a perfect Cass.”

  “What the hell is this?” Clara’s voice interrupted our moment.

  Halifax ju
mped to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s my dead cousin’s face,” she said, pointing at me.

  Clearly I hadn’t thought this through.

  I stood, pushing Oliver away.

  “Sorry, Kick,” I said, before I realized what I’d done.

  Dammit, I thought.

  “Sorry, kid,” I said, trying to sound drunk.

  I was hoping she’d assume I’d said kid the first time too and not the nickname I’d called her as a younger cousin.

  Before she could react, I headed for the exit.

  As soon as I’d turned the corner, I stepped into a shadowy alcove and folded space around me. I jumped back to my cruiser, still pissed that I’d not considered Clara’s possible reaction to the younger me. I couldn’t stay on Lux tonight. I exited the public garage and set a course for Tau.

  8

  Sector 1 Cortez Towers, Tau, Monday, 18:00 LTZ

  Gen

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I’d been shuffling through data for three hours, and it was tedious work. First, I’d had to figure out how to search the data using the Link. I’d never had access to someone’s data core before, and it was a bit overwhelming. Then, I had to scroll through a lifetime of memories, moments, and personal artifacts, because the data structure was seriously lacking.

  I had access to his digital life, from his birth certificate to his death certificate and every contract in between. His school records and family history. His medical files and lab results. Everything there was to know about him that could be digitally captured was available to review. If you knew how to find it.

  At 20:00 the lab’s main door lock clicked, and the lights lowered to fifty percent. The universe—or building security—was trying to tell me something. It was time to go home. I’d pick things up tomorrow. With all the available data in Rosenblume’s core, I no longer thought Susan9 was a double agent created to sabotage the study. If she had been, the data would have been wiped or corrupted, and so far I’d seen no evidence of any damage. Perhaps I could task her with finding the research. It wasn’t like she needed to sleep. My head was killing me; if only I could take a simple headache spell. I pressed my palm to my forehead. I wished I had recalled Susan9 earlier to help find the data, but I’d wanted to be sure she wasn’t compromised first.