by JC Hay
Zar began to suspect that Corporate Services had hacked his bodycomp. Otherwise, the time on his chrono didn't make sense. He couldn't have survived four days of this.
Zar scanned the white tile of his cell again, looking for anything that might have been left behind or forgotten. Anything he could use to escape.
There was nothing. The room had been hosed clean at the end of each session, his blood staining the water pink as it swirled down the drain near his feet. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore, knew that most of them had been broken before the med tech reattached his wrist to the ceiling. The pain had gone on so long that it had become a constant buzz, background noise to his thoughts as Zar tried to assess his situation.
The agents had watched impassively during the last session but hadn't bothered to speak, let alone ask questions. Apparently, they had finally reached the "Until he tells us something. Anything" stage of the torture. Eventually they'd realize he'd faced a lot worse than anything they'd doled out so far in terms of pain. The ring made a great trainer for pain management, in that respect, though it worried him that before long they'd begin to get creative and move from cutting and breaking into removal. He wasn't certain he'd be as equipped to handle that.
Which meant he needed to escape.
Zar took a deep breath, stopping short as the broken edges of his ribs ground past each other. If his chrono could be trusted, his torturer had been gone for almost two hours. Lunchtime. He'd be back for the next session soon, and then pass the mantle on to the next shift. Presumably to get some sleep, since they no longer allowed Zar to have any of that.
He jumped up, trying to catch the hook from which the restraint on his wrist hung. The anchor may as well have been on Mars for as close as he got. At least they let his feet stay under him. Hanging purely by his arm that first day had been the closest he'd come to breaking. The sense of suffocation, combined with the pressure on the joint, had been nearly unbearable. Now his legs had been bound together above and below the knee, but he could stand.
Keys rattled in the door. Zar suspected that CorpServ still used physical keys in this location because of the sound they made. Audible clues as to what would happen next. A chance to build dread. It suited their sense of cinematic flair.
The door opened, and a man Zar didn't recognize entered. Tall, but thinner. Athletic. He moved with the lethal grace of an operative—the almost otherworldly combination of balance and menace. The pistol in his hand looked like a cannon with a handle on it, and the man holstered a moment later.
Zar spat as well as he could. "About time they brought in someone interesting."
The operative smirked and took off his sunglasses to reveal a pair of extremely human-looking eyes. Either they were the highest end Zar'd ever seen, or the guy had never had his eyes done. The operative poked his head out the door and shouted, "I've got him."
"Oh thank the gods!" Yashilla's voice echoed back. And that couldn't be possible, because she was supposed to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe. She wasn't in the basement of some godforsaken CorpServ hell. If she was here, then that meant he'd sacrificed himself for nothing.
He was wrong. Hanging by one arm had been a cakewalk. Knowing that Yashilla was here almost broke him.
"I mean, I assume it's him," the operative called back. "One arm. Unattractive, but that's always been your weak spot."
She was in the door a moment later. "He's gorgeous. And you are too. Just ask Netta." She would have said more, but the she saw Zar, she stopped. Zar finally understood torture, his chest splitting in two just from seeing her in the room.
Yashilla ran to him and cradled his face. "You still there?"
Zar's chest ached, his throat too painful to swallow. He couldn't process the dichotomy, to be prepared for the worst and instead be looking at the person for whom he'd given up his freedom. He nodded against her hands, hoping it was enough.
She kissed him, mouth desperate as she pressed it to the corner of his lips. "Of course you are. Of course you're okay. You stubborn bastard, you weren't going to snap for some Corpse with a knife fetish."
Zar coughed out a laugh, and the flicker of fear that passed across her face made him want to apologize. She snapped out a knife and cut through the bindings on his legs, then called out behind her, "Joshi, I can't catch him if he falls. Little help?"
So this is Joshi. Zar had a brief flare of protective rage, a desire to make sure Yashilla's former lover knew there was no chance to rekindle that flame. Then she cut the bindings holding his arm up, and despite bracing himself, Zar buckled.
Joshi caught him as if he weighed nothing.
Three more people entered the room, watching the door and hall. Yashilla put a straw in his mouth and gave him a sip of water before talking. "We've got a short window before their systems come back online. We need to get you a pair of pants and get out of here."
One of the three, a woman with silver-white hair, disappeared from the room only to return a few minutes later. She threw a pair of black BDU pants in through the door. Zar recognized them as standard issue for CorpServ's guards. The woman tapped her temple to cycle through visual settings. "We're about to have company, kids, so soon would be good."
Yashilla looked at him, and the concern carved into the creases of her face felt like opening his wounds all over again. Zar swallowed and forced out a sentence. "I'm sorry."
She looked at him, then shook her head and kissed him again. "Only you would apologize for getting tortured."
"For hurting you," he corrected. "Wasn't my intent. It happens anyway."
"We both fucked up." She stroked her hand along the side of his face. "We'll talk about it once we're safe. Right now, I need you to stand up, so Joshi can go do what he does best."
The operative chuckled. "Netta would argue that what I'm best at requires a lot less clothing."
Yashilla mock-punched him. "You used to be such a prude. She's turned you into a pervert."
"The love of a good woman." Joshi got a sudden, wistful smile before focusing again. He kept hold of Zar until he could stand on his own. "Now get out of here."
Yashilla carefully pulled the trousers up over Zar's legs and fastened them around his waist. She kissed him again, and this time he had strength enough to respond. When she broke the kiss, she tightened her fingers against his scalp. "You good to move?"
Zar laughed, despite the pain that caught in his side. "If we're leaving here? Lead the way."
She wrapped her arm around him, and though he didn't lean on her, he felt supported all the same.
Chapter Nine
Z
ar ran his hand over the stone absently, then switched hands so he could feel the chips and edges in the cut stone block. The new cyberarm was subtle—compared to the last one, how could it not be—but over the past week, he was already becoming attached to the translucent housing that revealed the dance and interplay of the titanium beneath. Yashilla had said they'd be able to rehouse the limb however he wanted, but he'd already decided to keep the clear they'd used as an intermediary.
That was another issue he'd have to deal with; Yashilla. He didn't need to check his surroundings to know she was watching him. Giving him respectful distance that he wasn't sure he wanted. He smiled at the simple stone memorial and pressed his hand flat against the stone. "You'd have liked her, Liza. She's..." He struggled for the right words. Found one that encompassed multitudes. "Complicated."
It was both perfect and an understatement. Liza would appreciate that too. He cleared the leaves and detritus that had blown around the base of the stone. Small gestures, he knew, but the motion kept his hands from fidgeting. When he had finished, he put new flowers in the rusted holder that was mounted on the memorial. Zar stood and crossed to the small stone gazebo at the center of the cemetery.
Yashilla refocused her eyes as he approached, tapping a quick command on her forearm before looking at him. "Everything okay?"
He nodded. "Thank you. For the arm. For br
inging me here. For coming back for me."
She made a dismissive gesture. "It's the least I could do. And frankly, Amira did all the planning."
"What's their take on all of this?" He didn't trust the AI not to have their own agenda. They may be aligned for now, but there was no telling when that could change or when it might decide he and Yashilla were just as much of a threat.
"They say that we've got time. Corporate Services are still stinging from the attack and trying to decentralize their power structure. The two strikes have exposed competing factions in their C-suite, and there's likely to be some in-fighting while they adjust." She took his hand in both of hers. "I'm not sure I know how to do this."
Zar shook his head with a smile that he hoped looked less sad than it felt. With his fingertips, he brushed strands of hair back from her face, felt the stubble on her temple rasp against his skin. "I don't think anyone does. Not really."
She took a deep breath, and Zar watched the dim reflection of the clouds pass across her milk-white eyes. "Fine. I don't know what happens next."
He didn't either. The closest he'd come to a healthy relationship was memorialized on the stone forty yards behind him. But that didn't make it worth not trying again. "I'm sorry I hurt you. That I made a decision without you, as though it didn't affect you."
"We both did that," she admitted. "I lash out when I'm hurt. Or angry. Or on days that end in Y. But I didn't want you to sacrifice yourself to protect me."
Zar took a breath to speak, but she squeezed his hand to cut him off. "I don't want someone who's willing to die for me." She laughed and rolled her eyes skyward. "Gods. It sounds so trite. I almost said 'I want someone to live for me' but that's not it either." She chewed her bottom lip.
Zar waited, resisting the urge to rush past the part he could see upset her.
"I want," she started again, then paused. "I want someone who understands that I'm not always sure what I want." She laughed after getting the sentence out, and the sound made Zar's chest hurt with the purity of it.
"I can't guarantee that I won't hurt you," he said. "I've spent too long making decisions based on the safety of people who aren't me. I can't promise I'll get it right."
"I can't promise I won't get hurt. Or angry. I can't promise that I won't say stupid hurtful shit to try and wound you back. But I promise that I'll come back."
He dragged her closer, no longer able to bear the gulf between them. The feel of her leaning into his body, even in the humid Caribbean air, made him feel complete. He lifted her up the length of his chest, hugging her hips against him as he brought her face level with his. "Coming back is good. Not leaving is better."
She leaned in to brush her lips across his, tentatively at first, but he responded. Reassured her with kisses of his own, until the give-and-take had melted into a long interplay that had her fingers digging into his back as she pressed closer.
When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his. "Can we do this? Us, I mean?"
"Is it worth all this frustration, pain, and hard work?"
Her back bucked against his hands as she barked out a laugh. "Yeah. That."
He looked at her and leaned forward to place a single kiss where her neck met her shoulder. The shiver that raced through her sent warmth spilling into his veins. "Yeah. I think it's worth it."
"Me too." She dragged her hands back to his face and held him still as she kissed him again, promises and anticipation and forgiveness in one gesture. There was no point in worrying about future injuries when they had right now, and he could make right now last forever.
Epilogue
"C
an we really do this?" Yashilla swallowed against the panic rising in her throat. She wiped wet palms on her trousers and forced herself to smile up at Zar. His gentle response was enough to still the butterflies in her stomach and turn them to warm honey.
He reached out and pushed her hair out of her face. "Can we avoid it at this point?"
In that, certainly, he was right. They wouldn't have a better chance than they had right now. She glanced at the nondescript door behind her. She could still revert to the status quo, though. Could still flee from this moment, and all the moments after.
Yashilla let out a long sigh. "And this isn't just about getting revenge, right?"
"Revenge cost me an arm and a leg. Well, an arm anyway." Zar squeezed her shoulder, and she happily absorbed some of his offered strength. He kissed the top of her head. "It's the right thing to do. Relax. I'll be right beside you. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Says you."
He grinned. "Just imagine that I'm naked."
Yashilla snorted. "I was going to do that anyway. Has nothing to do with my being nervous."
He was still laughing when she opened the door and strode into the next room. Ten pairs of eyes turned to face her as she came in. When she made it to the front of the room, she flipped on the computer and its peripherals, then turned to face everyone.
Zar strode past to stand behind her. Where he could reach her in an emergency and, more importantly, close enough that his presence continued to reassure and strengthen her. As he crossed in front of her, he shot her a grin and mouthed, You can do this.
She looked back out into the room. Joshi and Netta were easy to spot, holding hands in the front row. Elise sat in the back, next to the cosmetic perfection of her model-boyfriend. When he sat still, you almost couldn't tell he was a programmed assassin. Venkat sat next to them, looking amused and bored in equal turns. Griffin. Kibriya. Mei. She recognized all of them. Trusted all of them, at least enough to invite them to this.
The silence dragged out, people shuffled uncomfortably, and Yashilla knew she needed to say something. She licked her suddenly dry lips, cleared her throat, and took a deep breath. "Hi."
Great start, Yashilla. Epic.
It worked, though. The small group relaxed noticeably, and Yashilla did as well. She paused, counted to five, and started again.
"I..." She looked over her shoulder to Zar, who gave her another of his smiles. Like all the rest, she tucked the memory away forever. She started again. "We brought you here because we have an opportunity that we shouldn't ignore."
She hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, fingers tracing the edge of the computer's brushed aluminum case. "Corporate Services is trying to rearrange. They're not in disarray, but with a few pushes, they could be. Instead of being the puppet masters behind the corporate wars, they could be dragged out in front of the curtain."
Venkat was the one who spoke, watching from the back. "You're talking about attacking them. Openly making enemies of the most powerful organization on the planet."
"You're damn right." She nodded as she stood back up. "At least part of it. We're already Corporate Services' enemies. Even those of us who worked for them." She tossed a pointed glance at Joshi. "They don't have friends. Just tools they throw away once they've outlived their usefulness."
Kibriya stood, flexing his hands as though he needed to keep from crushing something. "They've got eyes everywhere. Guns everywhere. We're ten people. How would that even work?"
"We've been fighting from the shadows for years." Yashilla resisted the urge to roll her eyes in frustration. "You've all raided corporations before, taken down assets, stolen data. I know. I've helped you, either selling you the tech you need or running the security breach myself if the idea entertains me. This is more of the same."
"Except we're doing it for free." Mei gave a bitter laugh. "If CorpServ isn't paying us, who will?"
"Some of the data can be sold directly, by the right contacts." She glanced at Venkat, who nodded. No doubt he was already identifying how he could line his pockets with skimmed funds. At least she could trust him to be dishonest. "Some of it, the corporations themselves are going to want. I mean, wouldn't you want to know who paid CorpServ to organize a strike on you? Or that CorpServ organized the strike themselves, just to prolong the war or push against a possible t
ruce?"
There was a general murmur of consent through the room. Griffin finally asked the question she'd been waiting for. "What chance would we even have? I'm not one for doing this without some kind of advantage."
Yashilla smiled. "Nor would I expect you to." She turned on the holo transmitter, and Amira's augmented reality avatar stepped out of the server on the table. Blue-white light shaped like a human figure, genderless and hairless. Their eyes were the white static of dead channels, and they looked at each person in turn.
Joshi, the only person in the room she knew didn't have cybereyes, pulled out a pair of ARglasses so he could see the display.
Yashilla waited for the murmurs and curious whispers to die down, then waved a hand towards the AI's avatar. "Everyone, this is Amira. They're going to tell us a story."
Amira took another few steps and gave Yashilla a curt bow before facing the assembled criminals. When they spoke, their voice came from a sound bar mounted on the table behind them. "Good evening, everyone. Let me tell you how we bring down Corporate Services."
Also by the Author
TriSystems: Rangers
Inouye
Grenville
Chen (coming soon)
May (coming soon)
Hearts and Minds
Flare: Team Corona (a Great Space Race novel)
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www.jchay.com
Acknowledgments
HOW DO I EVEN BEGIN to thank all the people who’ve been beside me, or blazed ahead of me, or stood behind me and blocked my retreat? At best I can just start naming names, and hope I catch everyone in the deluge. Certainly, they’ve all earned my immeasurable thanks, even those who somehow slip through the cracks.
For my darling spouse, you’ve been the shoulder I cried on, the arms that held me up, and when I needed it most, the kick in my butt. These books are as much yours as mine, and I know that birthing them was as painful for you as it was for me (if not more). Thank you for being the amazing, supportive person I love, and for somehow deciding I’m worthy of your love too.