If only luck were as easy to upgrade as other traits. I had the best sensory equipment and neural processing money could buy, but I could do nothing about the fickle hand of fate. Sometimes things just didn’t work out, and sometimes…
I pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs and stopped dead, frozen in surprise.
Well, shit.
Sometimes, they hung big directories on the wall that showed you exactly how to get to the laboratory complex.
I stepped forward, feeling like a tourist in the market sector as I blinked rapidly, storing multiple images of the directory in my short-term memory. Instantly, my processors started taking over, calculating the odds of security presence along the various routes to the goal and highlighting my best chance for minimal contact.
Good enough. I turned left and started moving. Now that I had an idea of my route, I needed eyes out ahead to run interference for me. Like Gage, I used Gambit drones. Unlike Gage, I knew who programmed mine…and I knew who paid him.
My Gambit readouts flashed into being on my display. With a thought, I pushed another layer of protection through my neural interface toward the handy little drones, just in case my old friend Cyclo got any ideas. I’d known him for years and trusted him with my life…mostly. It was the mostly that made me add the protection. If Gage had known to do the same, he’d be inside this building right now instead of me.
Friendship was one thing. Business was another.
My Gambit information came back clean, and suddenly I had situational awareness of my entire route down to the helpfully labeled “Laboratory Wing.” I counted six security teams between there and here, some living, some drones. The living teams might have been shells, but drivers with enough skill to operate a shell in combat were few and far between. In fact, I could only think of two, offhand. I was one. The other was helpfully leading a patrol boat away from my present position.
I gave the Gambits the “disable” command and flipped between their visual feeds as they disabled the teams one by one, most of the time before the teams ever knew they were there. That was the other nice thing about being friends with Cyclo. My Gambits were next gen compared to Gage’s and were therefore about the size of an infant’s thumbnail. Hard to see coming, especially with their integrated active camouflage.
I stepped lightly over the last of the security teams—a live pair—and took a moment to crouch and let my scanner run over their forms. So far, luck had smiled on me. If that trend continued, I just might find…
Yes! The icon lit up bright blue in my visual display. It was a long, flat object with a rounded end and jagged, irregular teeth on one side. I’d seen security keys like this before, but no one had ever been able to explain the odd shape. Custom, I guess.
Whatever the reason, the object was exactly what I needed: a security bypass key intended to allow security teams quick access to sensitive areas in the event of a problem. This guy must have been a supervisor. He’d probably thought the lab would be safer with him to control the entry.
Poor guy.
I pulled the key out from the inside pocket of the security supervisor’s tac vest and inserted it into the unobtrusive slot on the rear of the retinal scanner. The doors beeped, and then irised open, revealing a short hallway beyond.
The first of my Gambits shot past me in a near-silent whirr. As soon as I started receiving its data, I stepped over the raised doorway and into the lab complex.
“Complex” was a good word for it. “Ridiculous maze-like warren of rooms and hallways with no coherent plan” would be another way to put it. Whoever invested in this high-tech, state-of-the-art fortress of a building had obviously not saved many funds for a functional space designer or any kind. Or, more likely, they’d just let the scientists do what they wanted, and this was the result.
I sent my little eyes and ears fanning out down the various pathways, scanning for anything that would indicate the way to my target.
I found nothing.
Or rather, it was nothing that alerted me to what I’d found. I almost missed it. One of my Gambits stopped transmitting. It didn’t break the link, and its icon remained a healthy green in my mental display, but it stopped giving me any new data. It took me a minute to notice, but when I did, I realized this had to be the score. Creating a security field that could stop a Gambit’s transmissions without disabling it was seriously high-level tech and could really only be reliably imposed upon a relatively small area. So that had to be the crucial lab. I was close.
So close, my palms began to itch for the feeling of the…well…whatever it was. I just hoped it was something compact and easy to steal. If not, destroying it was an option, of course, but I really wanted that bonus.
And I wanted to prove that I could do it. That I could beat Gage. I wouldn’t tell him that, of course, but it bugged me that whenever we both went for a score, I never got it. Of course, he never got it either, so it wasn’t a total loss…but it wasn’t a total victory, either.
I wanted total victory.
I wound my way to the frozen Gambit’s position and tried to recall the tiny drone to my suit. It didn’t respond, which rankled. This security field must be damn good. I finally solved the problem by leaping up and snatching it out of its hover above my head.
These things were expensive. I didn’t want to lose one if I didn’t have to.
I tucked it back into its pouch on my suit, and sent its fellows out to form a rough perimeter around the security field. Then I took a deep breath and walked in through the nondescript double doors.
In retrospect, it was strange that they weren’t locked. At the time, however, I wasn’t concerned. Maybe it was intended to be the trap it became. Maybe it was just an oversight. Maybe the scientists trusted to their groundbreaking security field. Whatever the reason, I got in and found myself in a darkened room with a single light source at the far end.
The room was outfitted with standard laboratory accoutrements—tables, terminals, and the like. I threaded my way through all of this stuff toward the light source. It took me a minute to figure out what it was, but as I walked closer, the light coming from a pair of huge, translucent glass cylinders strengthened. I put out a hand to touch one of them, and the glass cleared, revealing what stood within.
A sim shell. Human, but unfinished. It had no hair, and its skin was so pale I could see the tracery of red and blue veins beneath. It was nude, but sexless, which was odd but not unheard-of for humanesque shells.
As I stood there, the front panel on both of the cylinders slid upward. A voice came from everywhere and nowhere, and forever after, I wondered if I’d heard it with my ears, or just inside my head.
“Direct Neural Interface Protocol established. You may begin transference.”
Transference? What could that possibly mean? And what under the countless stars was a “direct neural interface protocol?” Neural interface…something to do with the sims? What were these made of, anyway? They looked better than any shell I’d ever seen. Was that the top-secret new tech? A sim so lifelike that it almost looked biological? I reached out to run my fingertips over the forehead of the nearest shell. I expected to feel the cool sponginess of simflesh. Instead, the skin was warm.
Two things happened in that same moment, both of them impossible.
“Download commencing,” the same everywhere/nowhere voice said, just as the shell opened its eyes.
* * *
It pulled me. Or pushed me. I’m still not quite sure which. I can’t even really describe the sensation, to be honest. Just…I moved. But not because I wanted to. I had no choice. And it was weird because it wasn’t my physical body moving. I don’t know how I knew that, but it wasn’t. It was like sending my awareness out with a sim, only I was my awareness…
I’m not making any sense. I know that. I’m sorry.
The point was, I moved. And it hurt. Bloody stars, did it hurt. All of my nerve endings ignited in pain, and I cried out, eyes screwing shut in agon
y.
Or tried to, anyway. My voice croaked, like I’d never spoken before in my life. I coughed, then doubled over and heaved. But nothing came out. Not even bile.
Stop. Stop panicking and just breathe!
I opened bleary eyes and looked down at my bare toes on the lit pedestal at the foot of the cylinder as I focused on the simple act of inhaling, exhaling. The searing pain began to recede, draining away to leave me sore, but coherent. I crossed my arms across my bare middle and straightened slowly, feeling the muscles in my back and legs stretch and contract. Another deep breath, and I reached out to steady myself on the edge of the cylinder as I stumbled down the step and out onto the cold concrete of the laboratory floor.
My knees buckled, and I came down hard next to a crumpled body…
…wearing my exosuit?
“What—?” I croaked, one hand coming up to my throat. “What is this?”
“Download protocol continuing,” the voice said. “Wetware memory access granted.”
And I knew. I remembered. Everything. I knew what the tech was, I knew how to use it, I knew what it meant and the horror of that knowledge dawned on me as I looked down at my hand, and then over at my own crumpled body on the floor nearby.
“Unknown error detected. Security network disconnected. Deadman switch enabled, commencing transfer reversal.”
Just then, something flickered, and darkness closed in around the edges of my vision, too fast to avoid, even for someone as augmented as I had been.
* * *
My head lolled to the side, making my neck ache.
“Cary!”
Something stung against my cheek, snapping my head back the other way. Opening my eyes felt like clawing my way up through a pool of sludge, but eventually, I got there.
“Gage?”
“Cary! What the hell happened?”
My tac display flashed to life in front of my eyes, with four of my remaining Gambits screaming a silent warning in my head. Multiple parties moving in, weapons up in assault formation, closing in on the intruder in their inner sanctum. I was out of time. I had failed.
Or had I?
I shook my head and forced my eyes to focus on Gage’s face. I’d never seen it before, but I knew him anyway. He wasn’t bad to look at, actually. I liked the chiseled jaw and the promise of a beard. I liked the concerned look in his dark, serious eyes.
“Gage,” I said again, my voice rough. “They’re coming. We’re blown unless…”
“Unless?” he asked, wariness replacing concern. He knew me so well. I smiled, and before I realized what I was doing, I reached up to brush my fingertips across his lips.
“Unless you work with me for a change. I can’t explain, but if you can bring yourself to trust me, we might just both survive this.” Sort of, anyway.
“Trust you.”
“Gage, listen. They’re coming. We don’t have time. Either you’re in or you’re not. But this could be the biggest score of both of our lives.” I let my hand drop down and pushed against the floor, trying to sit up and quit lying in his arms. I felt a bit too comfortable there, and we had things to do if this was going to work.
“Fine,” he said, helping me sit up. “What’s the plan?”
“You run,” I said, pointing at the naked shell lying next to us. “And you take her with you. Just do me a favor would you, take the other one out for me. Just lay it on the floor there. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“What? Why are we dicking around with some sims? Cary, do you have the tech or not?”
“I have it, but you don’t understand. The shells are everything, Gage. You don’t…you don’t understand what they are. Just…just do what I ask, okay? We’re out of time. I’ll meet you on the roof when I’m done.”
Gage looked at me for a long moment, and then finally, finally, he nodded. And despite everything, I felt myself smile in return.
* * *
With Gage gone, I took stock. I still had my Gambits and a few similar surprises wired into my suit, as well as some other enhancements. The main things were to find and destroy any backup files that had been stored here in the lab and to buy Gage time to get clear.
I broadcast out a command to the Gambits to converge on my position. As they winged in one by one, I got a clearer picture of the teams working their way through the warren of laboratory rooms toward me.
I was right. There was no time. But I had to try. If Gage was clear…
I opened up a direct link and heard him muttering swear words in some language I didn’t understand. His mutters became sharp curses as the distant rattle of an explosion echoed down the link.
“Gage?” I cried out as sudden fear gripped me. I needed him clear.
“Cary?” he came back, sounding befuddled. But the link was unbroken, which meant that he was okay. Mostly.
“Gage, get out of there!” I shouted. A banging commotion outside the lab area heralded the arrival of my combatants. I let out a swear word of my own and shoved the security key that had gotten me inside to wake the nearest terminal. The display flared to life in the darkened room, showing a simplified screen with only two menu options:
I didn’t know what all was on the system, but I knew what was in my head. This was knowledge that Cybercorp and the rest of the world didn’t need. Hell, I didn’t need it, but I had it, and I was going to do my damnedest to protect it. I touched the second option and the screen flashed once in acknowledgement, then went dark.
“You know, that’s a great idea, Cary. Why didn’t I think of that? Sure, I’ll just get out, one sec okay? I’m kind of in the middle of falling to my death at the moment.”
Okay, he was okay. If he was being snarky, Gage was fine.
One of my Gambits flared in my vision, indicating the team approaching from that direction was almost in. I hopped back over the laboratory table and pulled out a small projectile pistol and fired it into the skull of the shell that Gage had left behind.
The shell twitched, then lay still as a pool of blood began to spread from underneath. Even with the teams bearing down on me, and even knowing what that meant, I found myself entranced by it. I used the toe of my boot to nudge its square, chiseled jaw over to the side. It had started to look like him, even in such a short time.
Fascinating.
An explosion rocked through the room behind me, throwing me forward onto the cooling shell. I rolled as I hit, pointing my little projectile gun as I came back up to my feet, and fired toward the hulking, armored figures that charged toward me out of the blinding light.
A sizzle of energy fire answered, searing the air around me and streaking through the plumes of dust and debris thrown up by the explosion. I dialed my visuals down to protect my eyes and threw one of the lab tables over on its side, then ducked down below it. Most of the Gambits hadn’t survived the team’s entry, but there were a few left, and I gave them a general attack command. They wouldn’t be hard for the security teams to take out but they might buy me some time and that, in turn, might buy Gage some time.
“Gage!” I screamed down the link as I raised up enough to fire over my makeshift barricade.
“What?”
“You need to—”
Another explosion rocked through the room, throwing me to the floor and blotting out Gage’s smart-assed response. A high-pitched ringing stabbed through my ears and into my brain, and I turned to fire in that direction as well.
“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you know how to power-hack a C74 Stallion, then I’d appreciate it if you just shut up for once!”
It was becoming clear that I wasn’t going to make it to the roof. Time for Plan B.
“Gage,” I said again, panting and squinting my eyes to try and resolve my suddenly doubled vision. “I’m not going to make it to the roof. Just run, okay? Just run and keep running. It’s going to be okay. I’ll explain later.”
I pulled my last holdout device from the small pouch on my hip and
armed it with the touch of a button. Then I pressed the “Hold” command tab on it and waited. If I could lure more of them in, I could create a bigger mess and a bigger diversion for Gage. Fear stabbed through me, but I shoved it down and away. This would work. I knew the data. It was imprinted in my memory as if I’d written it myself.
And if it didn’t work…well. Then I guess Gage would finally win one over me.
Two more breaths, countless more bolts of energy fire, and a masked, armored face appeared over the top of my lab table barricade.
“Hands in the air!” he shouted, barely audible over the ringing in my ears. I clearly understood the meaning of his energy rifle barrel pointed at my face, however, and so I opened my hands and raised them up over my head. The detonator clattered to the floor next to my boot.
“Good luck, Gage,” I whispered as the world folded itself down into a single pinprick of blinding white light.
* * * * *
Kacey Ezell Bio
Kacey Ezell is an active duty USAF instructor pilot with 2500+ hours in the UH-1N Huey and Mi-171 helicopters. When not teaching young pilots to beat the air into submission, she writes sci-fi/fantasy/horror/noir/alternate history fiction. Her first novel, MINDS OF MEN, was a Dragon Award Finalist for Best Alternate History. She’s contributed to multiple Baen anthologies and has twice been selected for inclusion in the Year’s Best Military and Adventure Science Fiction compilation. In 2018, her story “Family Over Blood” won the Year’s Best Military and Adventure Science Fiction Readers’ Choice Award. In addition to writing for Baen, she has published several novels and short stories with independent publisher Chris Kennedy Publishing. She is married with two daughters. You can find out more and join her mailing list at www.kaceyezell.net.
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