War With Black Iris (Cyber Teen Project Book 2)

by D. B. Goodin

  Father has gone mad, Melissa thought anxiously. He will disrupt the global economy. How do I free April?

  “Why do you want me to go back to the Shadow Dealers?”

  “You need additional help from them, and you have made your intentions clear, so I have little need of your services until April’s transformation is complete.”

  There is little I can do here to help April. It’s best to regroup.

  “Fine, I will go!”

  Jeremiah looked surprised.

  “I’m glad you have come to your senses. A car will take you to the airport.”

  Ron was standing atop a trellis, and he did not understand how he got here. He could hear plants swaying in the breeze around him. He tried to gather his thoughts.

  His last memory before passing out was of the men—those damned mercenaries. They’d stolen his life’s work, and killed all those people. Why? Ron shifted as the trellis moved. Ron looked down and saw that he was at least thirty feet above the ground. A drop from this high up would be life-threatening. Vines shifted below his feet. He looked behind him. A tree branch was just out of arm’s reach. Ron turned to face it.

  I need to jump!

  He dug his feet into the vines just above the trellis and sprung off.

  His next thought was: What happened?

  Ron had expected to propel himself onto the tree branch. Instead, he found that he couldn’t move his feet. He tried moving his legs, but they wouldn’t budge. Ron thought. Looking down, he saw several vines were wrapped tightly around his ankles, holding him in place. The wind was picking up now, and he shivered in the cool breeze.

  I wish I had a coat.

  The bright, sunny sky above began to fill with dark clouds. He felt thick blotches of rain land on his skin; they burned like acid. Then he heard a scream.

  “Ronnnald—”

  Is that Rozelyn?

  Ron looked down below the trellis and saw his wife entangled in vines, her arms and legs bound. Red stains covered the white dress she was wearing, and pieces of the dress hung like remnants of paper torn out of a book.

  “Ron,” she cried, “don’t let them take her—”

  Who is she talking about?

  Rozelyn screamed as the vines tightened, and blood squirted into the air as the vines sawed her in half.

  “Noooo!” Ron screamed as he was awakened.

  He was in a rectangular room. Men dressed in body armor were standing at attention near the door. His colleague, Dr. Elizabeth Ash, was trying to say something to him. He couldn’t hear.

  “He’s going into arrest. Get me those damn panels—now!”

  Another doctor pressed a button on a device that appeared to be a large battery charger.

  “Charging . . . hit me!” Dr. Ash said.

  A lab technician pressed a button on the battery charger. The doctors and staff heard a high-pitched squealing noise, but not Ron.

  Ron had slipped back into his vision. He was standing on the trellis again, watching his wife get eaten alive by some kind of killer plant. He pulled out a pocketknife and cut the vines that held his feet in place. As soon as he broke free of the vines, he could feel their tendrils, all over his body.

  They are trying to control me.

  Ron jumped—and landed next to his wife. He couldn’t believe she was here.

  Where am I?

  “Hey, Roz,” Ron said.

  Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Her next words were more controlled, deliberate.

  “Danger. Stay away!”

  The vines started wrapping around her neck until she couldn’t say anything else. The vines continued until the vegetation encased the rest of the body.

  “Come back to us—Ron, you awake?” Ash said.

  Ron opened his eyes. He was lying down, strapped to a table, hooked up to machines. The incessant beeping of the machines was driving him mad. Everything seemed amplified. He could hear whispered conversations between two staffers on the other side of the room.

  “Can you hear me?” Ash said.

  Ron said something unintelligible.

  “What’s going on here?” Jeremiah demanded.

  “Ron’s dose of Nitro 1500 is causing an unexpected reaction, and I’m trying to keep him alive,” Ash said.

  “Sounds like you gave him too much,” Jeremiah said.

  “I told you that administering the smallest of doses was dangerous,” Ash said.

  “How much time before April expires?”

  Ash tapped her visor.

  “Lev, get me the stats on the L3 diagnostic.”

  “The cyborg known as Delta has significant damage to its cerebral cortex (cybernetic brain), but is holding at 85.3 percent, neutral empathy receptors require repair, holding at 55.4 percent, logic processor at 88.8 percent,” Leviathan replied.

  “Her brain decay has slowed, but we need Ron in a lucid state. We can’t hurry this. If we damage him, we are in trouble,” Ash said.

  Jeremiah nodded. “I will be in the control center,” he said. “Keep me informed.”

  Once Jeremiah was clear of the room, Ash administered a controlling agent into Ron’s body.

  “You will rest for a short while longer,” Ash told him, “and then we will get to work. It will be just like the old days, except . . . I’m the master this time.” With that, she took her leave.

  About an hour later, Dr. Ash came in to check on Ron.

  “Ash, where am I?” Ron said.

  Ash put her hand on Ron’s shoulder.

  “Edinburgh. You are a guest of Jeremiah Mason, and we need your help,” Ash said.

  Ron looked confused. “Wait—Jeremiah Mason, the billionaire philanthropist? What does he want with me?”

  “We need you to help a little girl.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the raid on my laboratory? Those men . . . killed my staff. We lost some good people. They were only there as a personal favor to me. We had a breakthrough, and it got them killed.”

  “Is that a yes?” Ash said.

  Ron gave Ash a stone-faced look. “Did you have anything to do with the raid on my lab?”

  “No, you have Jeremiah Mason to thank for that. It sickens me that anyone lost their life,” Ash said.

  Ron fell silent. He rubbed his eyes and wept.

  “I know you’re hurting, Ron, but I need your help with April. Jeremiah is bringing her online, no matter the cost—human or monetary. It doesn’t matter to him.”

  Ron looked defeated. “Fill me in on the details,” he said.

  Ash smiled. “Thanks for reconsidering.”

  “I’m not doing this for you, and I’m sure as hell not doing it for that narcissistic billionaire. Let me help the little girl.”

  Ron looked at his restraints and tugged. Ash removed them then Ron got up and followed her to Delta’s chamber.

  Melissa met the car outside of her father’s compound. The driver helped her with her luggage. She had packed light for the trip. She would need to be able to get away at a moment’s notice. She checked her ticket: Edinburgh, a stopover in London, and then Lisbon. They scheduled Captain Ramsey, the shadow dealer’s ferryman will pick her up from there.

  Several hours later, Melissa landed in Heathrow, and she was making mental preparations to disembark when she spotted one of her father’s goons, the guard she assaulted was near the front of the plane.

  I’m being followed. I need a change of plans.

  “Ms. Mason,” the man said as she approached. “I’m here to escort you to your next flight.”

  “What! I can travel myself.”

  The goon followed her off the plane and onto the crowded concourse.

  “I have to use the restroom,” Melissa said.

  She ducked into the restroom, entered a stall, and then took out her burner phone. Working for the Shadow Dealers afforded her the personal contact information of people at Collective Systems and Black Iris. She didn’t want to contact Black Iris fi
rst; the people representing them gave her the creeps. The younger man known as Hunter who had the scar creeped her out. She thought she recognized the older man, but couldn’t remember where. She called Julius Shcherbakov, the Collective’s mouthpiece.

  “Hello, dear, how can I help you?” Julius said upon answering.

  “I need to speak with Alexei concerning the failed negotiations last week,” Melissa said.

  “I’m not sure that he wants to talk to you. I’m afraid that Alexei has lost faith in the Shadow Dealers,” Julius said.

  “Is there any way I can speak with him? Are you on neutral ground?”

  Julius didn’t speak for a long time. She was beginning to wonder if he’d hung up when he resumed.

  “Hmm, let me get back to you.”

  “You’d better make it quick. My father is sending me back to the Shadow Dealers right now!” Melissa said.

  “On second thought, hold the line please.”

  After what seemed like a very long time—several minutes—Julius was back.

  “Can you make it to the Milford area in the US?” he asked.

  Using her phone she checked flights to the US mainland. There were plenty from London, but not as many from Lisbon. It was unlikely that Captain Ramsey would meet her at the gate, since he was a member of the Shadow Dealers, not the Timeslicers. Her flight from Edinburgh was due at 4:43 p.m. She found another plan leaving Lisbon to EIA at 6:13 p.m.

  “Yes, I can get a direct flight to EIA this evening,” she told Julius.

  “Great. I will pick you up,” he said.

  Seconds later, a loud banging rattled her stall.

  “Your flight is boarding, please come out now,” the goon demanded.

  “I’m still on the toilet. This is the ladies’ room. I will meet you at the gate.”

  A female security guard entered. “Sir, this is the ladies’ room. You need to leave,” she told the goon.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” the man said.

  Melissa slipped under the partition separating the toilet areas. She crawled until she was several stalls away from the man.

  “I suggest that you wait outside—or do I need to escort you to the security office?” the officer said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” the goon said.

  Melissa slipped out from under the stall nearest the door, exited, stepped into the terminal, and then blended into the crowd.

  Chapter 18

  Using a credit card she hoped her father couldn’t track, Melissa booked the flight from Lisbon to EIA. She checked in online and got a boarding pass on her burner phone.

  There are advantages to having dual US and UK citizenship.

  She would need to move fast once she landed in Lisbon. Her flight from London was late. She checked the airport terminal maps while in the air. She didn’t need that much time because the terminal in Lisbon was small compared with Heathrow, but she had forgotten one detail: customs. As the plane landed, she grabbed her bag from the overhead bin, and then got in front of a large group that were deplaning. She had enough time to scan her passport before being dumped off at the front of the Lisbon airport, and then she went to the restroom.

  Time to leave my cell phone behind.

  Melissa removed the battery and SIM chip from her phone. With a snap, and a flush the SIM chip was taken care of. Exiting the restroom, Melissa looked at the departures board.

  “Flight 3357 to EIA boarding completed, we will close the doors in two minutes,” the announcer said.

  “I’m ten gates away!” she said aloud.

  Melissa ran, and she made it just as the flight attendant was touching the jet bridge to close the door.

  “Hey, I’m here. Don’t close that door!” Melissa yelled.

  The flight attendant froze, and then met her at the check-in podium. She scanned her boarding pass on her burner phone.

  “Glad you could make it,” the flight attendant said.

  “Thanks,” Melissa said in a breathless voice.

  Melissa entered the plane.

  It’s packed—but the seats look big enough.

  Melissa hoped she would get some much-needed rest on the flight. She took her window seat and closed her eyes. She was asleep in minutes.

  Melissa was standing in front of an open grave. She could see several people dressed in black on either side of her. A priest was reading last rites. Several moments later, six men carried a small coffin toward the open grave. The casket was ornate, and she could see her reflection on its surface as they set it down in front of her. Someone opened the casket. The small, frail body of a little girl was visible. Melissa looked down. She didn’t feel sadness or anything at all. It was April. April sat up, eyes closed. Melissa could see pieces of exposed metal through tears in the girl’s flesh. Then April opened her glowing, red eyes.

  “Why did you let them experiment on me, Mummy?”

  Melissa awoke to a plane that felt like it was being tossed around like a ball in the back of an empty truck bed. She heard moans, screams, and other unidentifiable sounds.

  “This is your captain speaking. We are about an hour away from EIA. We are experiencing a lot of turbulence, so please keep your seat belts fastened for the rest of the flight. Flight attendants, please take your seats, as well.”

  An old man got up and started walking to the rear of the aircraft. Another jolt threw the old man into a group of passengers.

  Must be an emergency for the old coot!

  Despite the pleading from the flight attendants, the old man kept moving back. Melissa noticed that most of the flight attendants had already fastened themselves into their seats. The plane’s nose dipped, and the old man went flying. Melissa looked out the window. She could see the wing of the aircraft bouncing like it was a toy. She could also see a lot of snow flying over the wing.

  I wonder if we will land at EIA after all!

  As if on cue, there was another message from the captain.

  “Hello everyone, I wish I had better news for you, but there is too much snow at EIA to attempt a safe landing. They have diverted us to Newport Airport about a hundred miles to the south. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

  Great. I hope Julius is tracking the flight.

  Jeremiah walked into his lab. Soon the last pieces for the Leviathan project will be complete. Jeremiah noticed his heart rate spike, his visor reported a heart rate spike to at least eighty beats per minute. He was excited at the prospect of having Leviathan at full capacity.

  “Lev, what is the build status for the project?” Jeremiah said.

  “Final assembly ready,”

  “Have you completed your integrity checks on the acquired code?”

  “Yes—the other AIs were compatible, but integrating the code proved to be more time-consuming than previously thought,” Leviathan explained.

  “What is the state of the AIs at MIT and the Black Iris locations?”

  “The cores from MIT have transferred to my collective, but they have realigned all primes.”

  “You wiped the AI’s memories?”

  “Affirmative!”

  “What about the Black Iris AI?” Jeremiah asked.

  “I could not crack all the locks, but it will remain a top priority.”

  “Okay—let me know when you have assimilated the Black Iris AI.”

  “My only purpose is to serve,” Leviathan said.

  Around midnight, Melissa was waiting at the pickup area of Newport Airport, at least two hours’ drive south of Milford. The plane had landed after 10:00 p.m. She waited just inside the airport terminal where it was dry and away from the wind. Maintenance workers and cleanup crews worked as she waited. She remembered that old man. The journey hadn’t fared well for him; they’d taken him off the airplane in a stretcher.

  Melissa could hear the wind howling, and drifts of snow swirled into a funnel outside; it looked like a small snow tornado. She zipped her coat to her neck, and her ears were cold.

  If I feel this cold
inside, I can only imagine how I will survive out there.

  “Hey, do you need a ride?” a voice asked.

  Melissa looked over to see a man in his mid-thirties. He was carrying a backpack.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” she replied.

  “Well, it doesn’t appear that he will show.”

  “He will be here soon. Running late because of the weather.”

  “If I had a beautiful woman waiting for me, I would make sure I was there to pick her up. Here . . . allow me.” He put his arm around her. She let him because she was cold.

  “Where you from? I can’t place your accent.”

  “I’m from the UK.”

  “Ooh . . . I like it. It’s . . . sexy,” the man said.

  She felt his hand in an area where it had no business. She pulled away.

  “I’m sorry. My hand slipped. It won’t happen again,” he said.

  “You’re damn right. Get away from me, creep.”

  The man raised his hands and started backing away.

  “It’s cool. Just wanted to keep you warm.”

  Damn creep!

  About ten minutes later, an airport security agent approached.

  “The airport is closing. You will need you to leave.”

  “It’s freezing outside.”

  “I’m sorry,” the agent said.

  Melissa exited the airport, putting her hat on. Sleet peppered her face, and a chill seemed to run through her entire body. She checked her phone: a missed call and a voicemail.

  “Hey, Melissa, I’m almost there. Hope you’re warm,” Julius said in the message.

  There were only a few people left waiting outside the terminal. She noticed an older sedan around the corner.

  This better be him!

  The car had stopped just short of her position. She looked into the window, but between the tinted windows and the snow she couldn’t see anyone in the car. The window rolled down, and she recognized Julius. He was middle-aged, had his hair slicked back, and wore glasses with large frames.