I let myself flop back down onto the damp pillow, finally catching my breath, trying to push the imagery from my mind.
“Well, it’s show time tonight, I guess. Are you ready?”
Laura nodded, something like worry poking through her neutral expression, but she said nothing, wandering over to the table where a half-eaten bowl of cereal awaited. I closed my eyes, but couldn’t go back to sleep.
Crowds filled the streets when Laura and I left the safe house, walking to NexBioGen’s headquarters. People wore red, white and blue and waved miniature American and Kansas state flags. Firecrackers and bottle rockets could be heard popping in the distance. Somewhere a marching band warmed up. Cars drove slowly down the streets as pedestrians crossed with impunity, distracted by things going on in their ARs.
“Patriotism…” Laura said as we dodged through the crowds, a small briefcase containing the tech in her hand, “isn’t the united part of the United States done?”
“Kaisers and Czars still tied themselves to the Roman empire until the early twentieth century,” I said, watching a group of intoxicated people laughing as they walked by, “I think a lot of people are only vaguely aware of what the holiday’s even about. It’s just a tradition.”
“I’m growing nostalgic for the Kaiser Reich,” Laura said, dodging past a drunk, shirtless man, his sweaty red-white-and-blue painted gut passing inches from her.
“I think everyone wants, like, the holiday to belong to their team,” Aveena’s voice came over my earpiece.
“Is everyone almost in position?” Reynolds asked, his impatience coming through despite distortion from the silent talking translator.
“Yeah…” Aveena said.
“Yes,” I said, seeing the NexBioGen building coming into view.
“Goodwin is good to go when we’re ready,” Rosy said, her voice also distorted.
“Good,” I said, “Regina?”
“Working on it,” she said, almost shouting over the commotion around her.
“How long?” Rosy asked.
“They’re worried about clearance,” Regina said, “I was never cleared to speak by the Wichita police. They’re stepping up security to keep the CSA agents from rushing the stage when I go up.”
“Let us know,” I said, looking to Laura and nodding.
“I’m changing over to contact to Akira’s guy,” Laura said, her fake ID name disappearing from my user interface. She was quiet for a few moments and then nodded back to me, saying to someone on the other end, “yes, we’re here.”
When we got to the intersection, I could see the free speech zone fences through crowds of celebrators. The enclosures were bursting with people holding signs. The seven-block zone containing the stage Regina would soon occupy held the anti-CSA protesters, chants of ‘no way, go away, racist fascist CSA’ being intoned. Another free speech zone near them – this one only two blocks – had the counter protesters with pro-CSA signs, singing ‘Mitchell wants us cuz Jesus saved us, heathens leave us cuz we don’t need ya’ across the road separating the two free speech zones.
“Okay,” I heard Aveena say, “there’s only a few other people here.”
I talked silently as Laura and I approached the entrance, “do you have your sign?”
“Y-yes,” Aveena said.
“Raise it up and start shouting,” I said.
Aveena was silent as I followed Laura into the large lobby, both of us looking around. A lone receptionist desk stood empty, two elevator doors to the right of it, next to a doorway to the stairs. A small robot glided silently across the maroon carpeting, vacuuming. At the windows looking out to the intersection were three tables surrounded by chairs, all empty.
Behind me I heard a click, the door locking. And then over my earpiece I heard Aveena start yelling halfheartedly about the CSA.
“Louder,” I said silently.
She started shouting louder. After a few seconds, confidence came into her voice as she began shouting real grievances she had against the CSA.
“Any movement?” I asked.
Laura looked at me and shrugged, both of us walking into the lobby.
“An officer is coming toward her,” another voice said. It was Tanya, there to keep an eye on Aveena while being unassuming herself, “I think he’s gonna arrest her.”
When Laura and I got into the center of the lobby, the elevator dinged. We stopped, exchanging a glance. Aveena’s shouts stopped as she talked to the officer, a bit of genuine anger in her feigned outrage at being harassed by him.
A man wearing a business suit, sans the jacket, walked out of the elevator. He looked at us with suspicion. When he finally beckoned us toward him. We both obliged. Aveena was being taken into the officer’s cruiser, Tanya telling us they were heading east toward Mikasi’s precinct. I focused myself on the task at hand, getting in the elevator.
“I take it you’re the guy?” the man said.
“Yes,” I said.
“And her?”
“She’s the one you wanted.”
“You can call me Levine,” he said as the elevator door closed and we started going down, “You’re not what I expected.”
“What were you expecting?” Laura asked.
“I thought you were transgenic,” he said, “most the transgenics I’ve dealt with were…”
“More over the top?” I said, “If it makes you feel any better, that’s pretty much what all the other buyers we’ve talked to said.”
“Who else have you talked to?” Levine asked, raising an eyebrow.
“That doesn’t matter,” I said, following him out of the elevator and down the hall, arriving at a locked door, “we don’t tell them we’ve met with people like you, so we’re not going to tell you about them. Suffice to say that we haven’t sold to any of them, either.”
“Such a savvy businessman for being so young,” he said, holding his arm up to the door, “I’ve never dealt with someone who wants a hostage before. Can I trust you have it with you?” He eyed the briefcase.
The door read the chip embedded in his arm and opened.
“Of course,” I said, “so long as you hold up on your end of the deal.”
“Dewitt,” is all he said, nodding slowly.
“I’m going up now,” Regina said, her fake ID dropped off the list on my user interface along with Carmen and Tea.
Laura and I followed Levine into a laboratory. It was a long room with five lab benches stretching most of the way across the room, separating the four work bays. Shelves full of lab supplies and reagents sat above the benches, the sides of the counters lined with cupboards. Six computers, including servers like the ones in Dewitt’s basement and the trafficking house, sat on the bench facing the entrance to the lab. Two lab techs were in the room, tinkering with the computers and instruments, awaiting our arrival.
“She’s up in her office,” he forced a smile, “but we need to inspect at the product first.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I said.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Levine said, “once we see there isn’t anything unseemly hidden in your product – no bugs or malware or, God forbid, bombs – then we’ll hand her over to you.”
I exchanged a glance with Laura. She walked to the nearest lab bench and set the case down, punching in the password and opening it up. Inside was Akira’s tech containing the recipes and protocols for making the chromosome treatment. Fake protocols. Akira assured us that most scans wouldn’t be able to find the malware hidden on the drive, the uploaded program looking like part of the protocol. I still felt nervous.
“We’ll wait here while you scan it,” I said, watching Laura take the small drive out and hand it to him.
“Fine,” Levine turned away, walking over to one of the techs and handing it over. They immediately went to work, plugging it into a computer – one of the weird servers – and focused on their ARs to work.
Aveena’s icon disappeared off my AR display. The police must have dis
abled her tech…I hope she can get it done.
As we waited, I looked around the lab, trying to calm my nerves. There were hundreds of vials, tubes, beakers, and flasks filled with different reagents, most of them clear. The labels taped on said things like HEPES pH 7.5 and monosodium phosphate pH 4.2 and numerous other things. I broadened the light spectrum with my bionic eye to look at them, seeing the solutions turn different colors as they absorbed different wavelengths. One near me, sitting beside a pH meter, was highly concentrated sodium hydroxide. Its cover was loose and-
“We good?” Levine asked when one of the techs raised her head. She nodded. Levine turned back to me and gave a wry grin.
“You took the protocol, didn’t you?” I said.
His grin grew, “I know you aren’t actually after Dewitt. She was onto you since you broke into her house. You’re looking for Doctor Landon, aren’t you?”
“What are you going to do?”
“To you? Nothing,” he said, “feel free to go enjoy the fourth of July celebrations. But her,” he looked to Laura, “I have it on good authority that there’s something very valuable in her brain.”
“You flatter me,” Laura said.
“How do you know about the implant?” I asked, “are you selling the protocol to Sovereign?”
“Sovereign?” Levine said, “I don’t know anything about an implant. But I have my private security people coming, so there’s no use resisting.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, exchanging glances with Laura.
“You’re wasting your time here,” Levine said, “I really don’t give a shit about Dewitt or Landon. NexBioGen is going to go down hard, and I certainly don’t plan to be around when it happens. If you want Landon, I’d check the PRA.”
“The PRA?”
“She sought political asylum there, from what I understand,” Levine shrugged.
Rosy’s voice came over my earpiece, “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” I asked silently.
Before I heard her answer, a stream of liquid splashed over Levine.
“Motherfucker!” screamed, running across the room.
“What’s the hell?” I looked down, watching as my left foot whipped around, landing on Levine’s knee.
The screaming man fell forward, head banging against a bench. Steam rose from his face as it reddeneded, stringy flesh clinging to his hands
“Oh, fuck…” I moaned.
You took the protocol, didn’t you?
God, I just want to punch that smarmy, shit-eating grin right off his face. The fuck is this asshole talking about? Doesn’t he know-
Shit…I’m in split brain mode, aren’t I? How much you want to bet my fuckwit left hemisphere hasn’t figured it out yet.
You should be asking what I’m going to do to him. I’m going to watch the light go out in his eyes. I’m going to watch a universe of possibilities blink out of existence.
Good authority, eh? I wonder what authority that’d be. Maybe he’s defecting to Sovereign.
But why Sovereign? Surely Benecorp would be willing to pay good money for Laura’s brain implant and-
Interesting. What else does that dozy bitch have going on inside her gin-soaked brain? They certainly wouldn’t want her for that ridiculous art.
You know, I’d still fuck Laura. In fact, I think I will one of these times. Now that I’m gaining a little influence in this absurd split-brain situation.
Too bad I don’t have a weapon.
Nothing would give me more satisfaction than putting a bullet in the stomach of this bloviating cocksucker. I’d cream right in my panties to hear him cry out in pain.
Ah, even better. The container of sodium hydroxide. Why use a boring old bullet when you can melt someone’s face off, like I did to that insufferable Eddie asshole.
I reached my hand over, grabbing the container of sodium hydroxide and quickly whipped it around. The cap and a stream of liquid splashed over Levine’s face.
Oh, God, I’m cumming…
You’re not getting to that wash station that easily, cocksucker.
I felt tendons snap as my toes dislocated his patella bone.
These ridiculous mortals. They’re only purpose is to fuck, whelp brats, and perpetuate my own existence when I die.
Otherwise they’re pointless lives are best served for my amusement when I-
Everything flooded back together. Levine’s screams and sizzling flesh mixed with the technician’s shouts. Hands grabbed at me, but the world spun too fast to make sense of anything.
“Eshe, come on,” I heard a voice, “they’re already in the building.”
“Evita…?” I rasped.
“What? No, it’s Laura,” she said.
Finally, everything started coming back together. I found myself on my knees. Choked screams croaked from behind. I looked back, finding Levine pulling himself across the floor, shedding a crimson trail of melting flesh behind him. I looked back to Laura standing over me, one hand on my shoulder, the other holding a pistol trained at the two technicians.
“Where did you get the…”
“Levine,” she said, “it doesn’t matter. We have to-”
Laura’s fingers dug into my shoulder as she pulled at me.
“Stay there,” Laura ordered the two technicians, their hands up.
Still dazed, I got to my feet and followed her into the last bay. We ducked down behind the bench. Voices argued through my earpiece, but I couldn’t discern what they were saying as I focused on our situation. I raised my head, peering over the bench.
The two lab techs ran to a cabinet, fumbling with the lock.
“Laura,” I whipsered, reaching up and grabbing at the reagents and handing them down to her, “look for corrosives.”
“I know melting people is your thing, but I don’t know what any of this shit is,” she said, looking intensely at the glassware.
“Get up!” the male technician shouted.
I peered over the counter. Both technicians held 3D printed M16s as they stalked along the first lab bench, weapons trained.
Shit!
“Just look for low pH, high molarity,” I said, grabbing more reagents and handing them down to Laura as she-
The locked door blew open easily with a thundering bang. The two technicians shouted in fear. Gunfire popped. The lab techs shot ineffectually at the exos.
The hell…?
Two exoskeleton clad CSA agents entered the room. Their armor, the EXO:B-024 model produced by Benecorp, was colored off-white with blue circles at the joints. Plates of bulletproof polymer armor covered the hydraulic muscles beneath them. The helmets had visors tinted the same light blue color as the joints, obscuring the agent’s faces.
I looked to Laura, brows furrowed, and mouthed ‘CSA?’
She shrugged.
I peered back over the counter again. The lab techs shouted, panicked, running for cover. Arm mounted 20 mm guns thumped ferociously, so loud my chest hurt. Shredded entrails splattered the first bench, droplets of blood reaching us from across the room.
I ducked back down, frantically looking through all the labeled glassware, shoving things I didn’t need to the side. Commotion continued over my earpiece. Finally, I came across a covered glass container that said 12 M HCl – a liter of highly concentrated hydrochloric acid.
“Here,” I said, handing it to Laura.
I kept going through the containers, setting them aside. The exoskeletons whirred quietly as the two agents stalked through the lab. A cracking sound startled me. I peered over the bench, seeing one of the agents, only two bays away, smashing the lower cupboards on the counter attached to the wall as he drew closer.
I got back down, looking to Laura and seeing fear in her usually drowsy eyes as she clutched the pistol in one hand, bottle of acid in the other. When I looked at the glassware I had left, I immediately saw another bottle with a liter of 16 M nitric acid – highly concentrated.
The other agent walke
d into the bay just on the other side of our bench. When I heard his footsteps move past us, further into the bay, I scrambled to my feet, raising the bottle of nitric acid. The loose cap came off, drops spilling out onto my right shoulder as I chucked it beneath the shelves suspended above our bench. Glass shattered against the back-left side of the agent, liquid spraying over his exoskeleton. He barely noticed, turning slowly as I ducked back down, the acid droplets already burning my shoulder.
The counter splintered over my head as the armored hand grabbed the granite, tearing it away from the wood cupboards. Laura fired the pistol wildly, the sound like a nail going into my eardrum. I leapt to my feet, running. Laura followed, throwing the empty pistol impotently at the agent. The other agent stood up straight in the second bay as we ran toward the front of the lab.
I stumbled, ducking as 5.56 mm rifle fire popped. Glassware shattered, shards raining down on me as I jumped, sliding across the floor. Levine shrieked when his body stopped me.
Laura screamed, whipping her bottle of hydrochloric acid at the second agent, glass and clear liquid splashing over his chest.
I scrambled on all fours, climbing over Levine, putting the front lab bench between me and the two CSA agents. I reached back, grabbing Laura’s shirt and pulled, dragging her flailing body across the tile floor.
The deafening blast of a 20 mm gun cracked as the lab bench completely exploded a foot from my head, wood splinters, glass, and unknown reagents spraying everywhere behind me. I jumped up, leaping toward the gaping doorway, but the second agent was already there, waiting for us.
The smell of dissolving polymer grew strong, grey rivulets of steaming liquid oozing down the front of his exoskeleton. Just as he raised the 20 mm to fire, the blue lights on the suit died, the whirring turning into a sputtering.
“Go!” I shouted, pushing Laura.
She didn’t object, bolting toward the frozen exoskeleton. Another thundering gunshot went off, the midsection of the paralyzed exo exploding away from us. I froze, the top half of the CSA teetering and falling backward as blood sprayed from the dissolving polymer.
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