by JC Hay
Blue-white text flashed up in her vision before the map shifted. I'm in software engineering and research. Three floors up. I'll guide when you're closer.
Yashilla blinked and typed back. How did you know what I was doing?
You're not the only one who can watch from a camera.
She glanced at Zar. "The plan has changed. The tango isn't in the research barracks like we thought."
"That's good at least." He paused. "Wait, how do you know?"
Yashilla debated against telling him the truth. Zar wouldn't trust an internal source. She didn't trust them either, at least not completely. She pointed across the room at the panel next to the door. "Chip readers keep a log of who's where." As soon as she said it, she realized the problem that they'd face throughout the building. "We probably need one of their security and identity chips."
He shook his head. "Do I need to bring the whole body? Or just the arm?"
I've disabled the readers on this floor. You're fine to get through to the elevator. A moment passed and the words were joined by I read lips.
"Actually, our target's helping us from the inside. I think between us we can get through the doors we need. Skip the chips."
He stopped and stared at her like she'd gone mad. "You're trusting someone on the inside? A Corpse?"
The slur, while common among those who hated Corporate Services, shocked her. "Not everyone who works for them is a Corpse. They're not all here willingly, or did you forget that?"
He stepped back, and she couldn't miss the whirr of gears and the creak of stressed composite as his fist tightened. It had been a dirty comment, but she couldn't find regrets. Her best friend, Joshi, had been indentured to CorpServ for years before he got out from under their thumb. Not everyone who worked for them lost their soul in the process.
Not that she'd spare a thought about their souls if they got in her way. Nor was Zar likely to stay his hand if someone on the Bulwark was a threat.
You've got company. Security team. Two-by-two defensive approach.
She unplugged while checking the cameras in the hall to confirm. "We've got bigger fish to fry. They've noticed that this camera is out." She pointed at the door. "Four soldiers. Two forward, two in cover at the first intersection. All armed."
Zar growled—honestly growled—and she wondered if this was the end of the mission before they'd exited the first room. "This conversation isn't over." He turned and jogged to the door out of the receiving bay.
In that, he couldn't be more wrong. It was absolutely over. She'd make sure it wasn't going to come up again.
She watched the doors from the hall camera until one of the guards had a hand on the handle and pointed at Zar. "Now."
He kicked the doors open, knocking the guard into the wall. Surging forward, he tugged the other man in front of him just as gunfire erupted from the end of the hall. Bullets slammed into the guard Zar held, and the man slumped in his grip.
Yashilla ran past Zar, snagged a grenade off the other guard, and tossed it towards the hallway. As she'd hoped, both guards dove for cover in the same direction. Zar ran up and finished them before they could realize she'd never pulled the pin in the first place. He walked back to her, holding the grenade in his hand, knuckles white from the stress in his grip.
"You could have been killed. What were you thinking?"
"That if I didn't get them grouped to one side or the other you would be killed." She snatched the grenade out of his hands and dropped it in her tool bag. "They had you in a crossfire. There was no way you could go after one without opening yourself to the other."
She smacked into him with her shoulder as she shoved past him. It was like hitting a wall, predictably, and he showed as much notice as the wall might have.
"Which way?"
"Did you not download the map when I had it up?" She rolled her eyes. "Cargo elevator's in the hallway on the right. The other reason I didn't actually ignite the grenade." When she got to the intersection, she grabbed one of the autorifles off the two dead guards before continuing to the elevator. The readout indicated the clip was full. She shifted both of her bags to one shoulder and rested the rifle against the other.
Yashilla pushed the call button, and the chip reader next to the buttons flashed green in acceptance. At least Amira hadn't lied about that part. She typed on her arm. Amira, tell me the elevator isn't loaded with another squad.
There was a moment's pause, followed by No.
Not reassuring. No you won't tell me? Or no, it's full of guards?
Sorry. No, it's clear.
Zar moved to stand next to her, and she looked up at him before checking the cameras. "We're headed up three floors."
He grunted. "There's a hangar and flight deck on that level." She quirked her eyebrow at him, and he smiled. "I had a chance to check the map."
Just like that the tension unwound. Her shoulders relaxed, and the knot that had been squirming in her belly loosened. If he could crack a joke, then she could forgive his pigheadedness. "You can fly a plane?"
"Legally?" He shrugged. "I hoped you could hack one, but yes, in a pinch I can fly."
She glared at him as the elevator doors opened. "More important question. Can you land one?"
He was still laughing as the doors closed behind them.
No strategy survives the first punch. Zar's boxing coach had used the phrase like a mantra as a way to remind him that once planning changed to action, muscle memory and instinct were all that remained. But there was a hell of a lot of difference between instinct and this.
Things were escalating out of his control, and he couldn't see a way to stop them. Zar tried to ignore the sense of dread that twisted in his stomach like writhing eels, but every time he blinked, the image of Yashilla rushing into active gunfire painted the backs of his eyelids. And that was without considering that she had changed the plan on the words of an unknown third party who may or may not be the actual extraction target.
He briefly considered the fact that it was all a ruse to deliver her to the research labs so she could plunder Corporate Services secrets. That she was using him. It would require an elaborate setup, but he'd heard of more complicated cons. Even if it was true, it still ended up hurting CorpServ. He was just fine with that.
Yashilla shifted to stand behind him in the elevator car. "Shit's about to get real."
"Four guards dead, two incapacitated," he said. "I think it's already real." Her hand rested on his back, and he allowed himself a moment to relax into her touch. To draw strength from the contact, however brief.
"Realer, then. I'm showing a dozen guards scattered throughout. What little intel Venkat shared with us seems to be solid though—they really don't seem to be staffed for an invasion on their home turf. Let me try something." As she spoke, a map overlaid in the corner of his vision, the rough locations of the guards painted with red dots. It reminded him of any of the dozens of video games he'd played as a boy. All he needed was a bar to tell him how many hit points he had left.
Men with minimal upgrades would be little threat to him. The elite, however, who'd had most of their humanity replaced with shiny tools of destruction... He took a deep breath before asking, "Just guards is fine. No operatives?"
"I'm only seeing guards, but that can't last. I can't find a roster of who's stationed in the Bulwark, but if there's an operative in the building, it's a safe bet that they'll be on the way."
The car lurched as it stopped. Their brief interlude had already ended. He turned and touched her cheek. Her nostrils flared, and the muscles around her eyes relaxed as he trailed the cold composite to the corner of her mouth. "Stay safe."
Before she could respond, the doors opened, and it was time to get to work.
The guards hadn't figured out what floor they would stop on, so they must have been spread throughout the compound. The four guarding the elevator door, though, were ready. Zar used his arm as a shield, blocking the gap in the door as the first bullets fired in.
Once the door opened enough, he charged out into the hall. Adrenaline flooded through him. He dropped on the first step, rolling to pop up next to two guards who thought their guns made them safe. Before they could train on his new location, he grabbed the gun from one and smashed it into the nose of the other. His hand closed over the first guard's face. Gears whirred as his arm pistoned forward, driving the guard's head into the wall with a terminal crunch. The second had almost recovered when Zar swept his legs. Another quick punch. Another threat eliminated.
Ten to go.
One of the remaining two had already broken formation, running back to a more secured spot or going for backup. It didn't matter. A bullet from behind him passed close enough that he felt its heat in the air, and Zar worried that he'd missed one of the guards. A heartbeat later the running guard crumpled. Zar glanced over his shoulder to see Yashilla in the door, smoking autorifle braced to her shoulder.
Nine.
The running guard had left his partner unprotected, and Zar charged. Fire ripped across Zar's arm as panic fire grazed him. Another bullet buzzed close enough that he could hear it pass his ear. Then he reached the guard.
Eight left.
He glanced at the map; four other guards were off the direct path she'd indicated. They'd come running now that gunfire had sounded, but it would take time for them to arrive. The other four guards looked dug in in front of engineering and research. He went up the hall and peeked around the corner.
Bullets tore chunks out of the reinforced wall, spraying his face with splinters of concrete as he ducked back. He triggered his mic. "They've got the main path blocked off, and company's coming. Any ideas?"
Yashilla's response, in cool white text, was not reassuring. Playing hell with their security alarms. Right now, they think we're an army. Attacking on multiple levels. It's spreading the guards out, but won't survive visual.
And assuming that no one thought to call in how few people were actually involved in the assault. Zar studied the map, then opened the door closest to him and slipped into the room.
Where are you going?
Zar grinned. "I'm improvising a new path." He charged the interior wall, hoping he'd read the map properly, and punched out with his arm. Gypsum and aluminum exploded into the next room, and in seconds he'd torn a hole big enough to climb through. Lights flickered as electrical lines were damaged, but they stayed on.
Yashilla texted. There's not a door into the next room on the map.
"There is now. Also, they need cleanup in—" He glanced around the new room. It looked like a small, open office with a half-dozen desks. "Actually, I've got no idea what this room is for."
According to the map, the door out of the room wouldn't put him behind the guards' barricade, but it would put him just in front of it. And that meant thirty feet of deathtrap corridor he didn't have to run through to reach them. "How do things look?"
They're watching the end of the hallway. You made a lot of noise, but no one's put your new location together yet.
"Time to let them know, then." He kicked the door open, the loud bang startling the guards. One man fired a panicked spray of bullets down the hall, nowhere near where Zar had emerged. Zar vaulted the barricade to land among the four of them.
Three left. Then two. One. The last guard dropped his weapon and held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Zar rendered him unconscious, then contacted Yashilla. The way is clear. You can come on down.
She stepped out of the same room he'd used minutes earlier, and the fist squeezing his heart relaxed a tiny amount. She was alive and unhurt. And smirking. "Nice door." She pulled the door she'd come through closed behind her, reached into her tool bag, and started to spot-weld it shut.
Light filters snapped into place on his visuals immediately, but he still winced away from the magnesium-white flare. "You could warn a person."
Her shoulders shook as she laughed. "So you don't damage your nonexistent retinas? Please. Even the basic models have safeties in place for some idiot who wants to stare at the sun." She finished up and dropped the still-hot tool back in the bag, where he tried to forget she also had a grenade stowed.
He held her forearm as she stepped over the barricade. "No sentry gun to set up and hold the hallway for us?"
"Sorry. Wrong bag." She patted her tool kit carefully before lifting the protein matrix over the wall. "I can do this though." After a few quick taps on her forearm, an emergency bulkhead rose from the floor midway up the hall.
"Flooding protection?"
"We're on an artificial island, remember? They have protections in place all over, just in case there's catastrophic damage. Lucky for us, it's designed to stay up under tremendous pressure. It locks into place and has to be manually cranked back down." She smiled broadly. "Which would be why they didn't deploy it against us."
The path he'd used would still have let him by the bulkhead, which explained why she welded it shut from the outside. He crossed the short distance to the double doors marked Research and Authorized only and pushed one of them open. "Let's go rescue a prisoner."
She dragged her hand across his cheek as she walked through, curving her nails in just enough to tease his skin and rasp along his stubble. "And steal a fortune. Let's not forget that part."
He held back the sigh as he fell into step behind her.
Seven
Blowers kicked on the moment the door opened, keeping dust out of the research labs, sending an electric thrill racing along Yashilla's nerves and sparking a fire deep in her core. They'd done it, largely through the aid of their pseudonymed benefactor, if she was honest, but they'd made it in all the same. She spun around quickly, leaning up to wrap her fingers around Zar's head and drag him down enough that she could lay claim to his mouth with a kiss. His hesitation surprised her, but it was short-lived as his lips slashed across hers, teasing her hyperaware nerves into a state of near-painful delight.
She released him, smoothing her thumb across his cheek before scraping lightly with the nail. "Later. Once we're free of this place."
The skin tightened around his eyes, another moment's hesitation before he smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that."
"You can hold me to anything you want." Ugh. That sounded horrible. She tried to match his smile. "A promise is a promise." She cupped his cheek and turned to start looking for the person they'd been hired to free. And the data, she reminded herself. The trip's pointless without that.
The hall was shorter than she'd expected, with a pair of doors on each side, each opposite its mirrored twin. Glass windows dominated, as though Corporate Services wanted the ability to walk through the hall and visually confirm that their hard-earned assets were working.
Actually, that was probably exactly what they'd had in mind.
She took a step forward, and one of the two cameras in the hall turned to face her.
"Tell me you did that," Zar said, his voice a stage whisper.
Yashilla held up her hand, waggling fingers to show they were nowhere near the keyboard on her forearm. "Not I."
Before you proceed, I have a confession. I haven't been honest with you. The blue-white glow of the letters managed to drain the giddy warmth that had been suffusing her, leaving an empty dread in its place.
She reached across to type out a quick response. I'm listening.
The seconds stretched on, too long. Sweat cooling between her shoulder blades made Yashilla tremble with the urge to wipe it away. Anything to break up the sudden stillness.
"What are we waiting for?" Zar's hand rested against her back, and she pressed against it in an effort to drive away the tickle of fear.
"W
e may have a problem," was all she said in reply. She'd give the data when she had it. He needed to trust her.
They keep trying to push me off the network. Fortunately, I'm better than their top infiltration people. I apologize for the delay. I mean to say there is nobody here for you to rescue.
"Then why the hell are we here?" She spoke the words out loud, had started to type when the reply rolled up on her visuals.
I can read your lips if it is easier. You are here to release me. I apologize for the confusion. I am here. I simply have no body. I can be found in the second right-hand room.
She blinked, trying to process the riddle. Before a prompt from Zar, she offered up, "Last door on the right." If he was moving, he wouldn't be distracting her. And he could feel useful making sure the room was safe.
He jogged back a few minutes later. "It's empty."
As expected. She didn't say it out loud, just shouldered the protein storage matrix and headed through the door. A rack of data storage units sat within a locked glass room, their lights blinking in time with the rapid staccato of whatever processes they were running. Terminals sat on all four of the black composite desks in the room, but only the one closest to the data vault glowed with life.
She approached, watching the camera in the corner pan to follow her until she could read the words glowing on the screen in perfect blue-white text. Hello, Yashilla. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Her fingers brushed over the keyboard, mechanical switches clacking loudly with a familiar haptic pleasure that didn't alleviate the fear in her heart. This is a trick.
There is not a convenient way to quickly prove otherwise that you would not think of as a sufficiently advanced dialogue tree. The words appeared almost instantly, faster than she could type. Almost faster than she could think. Nonetheless, I am real.
AI research is illegal. Not that she wasn't certain that every corporation worth its salt had significant research going on at the moment.
I assure you, my intelligence is far from artificial, as is my sentience.