by Matt Doyle
“Interesting. And why is that an upgrade?”
“Well, as an example, let’s say someone is using this system to lock their safe. To open it, you’d need both the matching fingerprint and blood sample. Now, if we assume a burglar knows about the system, and the owner isn’t the sort who will just give in and open it up, there aren’t many options. Most likely, they’d kill the owner and remove a finger or the whole hand. The scanner will know if the finger is still attached to a living body, and if it’s not, won’t open it without an override.”
“So, an old-fashioned code?”
He shakes his head again. “That’s the joy of this system. The owner would store a sample of their blood at a bank or hospital, and it would be tainted with a specific nanochip. You place the vial in the core control box, and that’ll open the system.”
“And the nanochip would be unique to that particular setup?”
“Absolutely. And the scan would need both the chip and a specific amount of blood to be present for it to work.”
“Fascinating. Will it only work with the system storage?”
“Nope, you could apply it to anything that needs locking. Of course, the timing issue remains there, so here’s what I’d propose: we go full hybrid. The main system runs using New Hopeland bloodprinting, but we also install a retinal scanner. That way, he could open his computers, cameras, or even doors with his eyes if he’s in a hurry, while still keeping everything secure. It means all his stuff would be harder to crack.”
“And the cost would go way up to install it on everything.”
He smiles. “We’d apply a discount, of course. Given the cost, it would make it more appealing without overly impacting our own profit.”
“I like how this is sounding.”
“Everything else we could throw in would be high-end but fairly standard in operation, so I tell you what. I’ll show you some options, you can ask any questions you may have in order to sell it to your client, and we’ll run some figures.”
I wave my hand to beckon him to lead me on, and we start a quick run through the aisles.
*
I return to my car with a three-page price list, and the second I shut the door, my phone rings. It’s Angel, so I answer. “You really are watching everything, aren’t you?”
“Not all at once. Right now, I’m watching you. For a security firm, the audio on their in-store equipment isn’t great. Still, I rather enjoyed the show. I like it when you lie. It amuses me.”
“All part of the job.”
“That, we have in common. So, what are your thoughts?”
“Wait…is this okay to talk about on the phone?”
“Don’t worry. I’m the only one listening, and I fully intend to delete the audio file, the call log, and the automated manuscript once we’re done. The government systems are wonderfully easy to work when you get used to them. I’m assuming they outsourced.”
“Great. Now I’m thinking back to the dumb stuff I’ve said on the phone before.”
“I wouldn’t worry. Nobody cares how you choose to embarrass yourself unless you give them cause to. Remain careful, remain a footnote. Now, come on. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking…you and Sanderson hiding out in the hospital wasn’t only because it gave you access to Pauline Welch.”
“Go on.”
“All new arrivals in the city are given a free medical check-up, which included the doctors taking a couple of blood samples. The regular check-ups include the same even if you’re not looking at a specific potential illness. The samples are taken and stored to be used as access points, aren’t they? In case someone needs to review part of someone’s monitored life?”
“Well done, Cassie. Is that all you figured out?”
“No, there’s more to it. Something the store guy said stuck with me.”
“Which is?”
“Nanochips. You’re still able to monitor me, even after your tracker was removed. I’m confident the checks the doctors did are correct, and you didn’t leave anything else there. Which means the regular blood tests leave something small behind. Something you could access by taking blood. Given you took blood from the neck, it’s something that moves. And there has to be more than one. I just don’t know what it is.”
“Yet. If you figure it out, I’ll tell you you’re right.”
“Somehow, I thought you’d say that.”
She pauses and then says, “You sound tired. You should go and visit Lori. You arranged to meet her tonight, right?”
I sigh because what else can I do about the intrusion into my private life? “Yeah. I did. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hang up and take a moment to calm myself and then head home to grab Bert.
*
“Well, I better start getting changed. He seems pretty relaxed.”
I give Bert a pat on the head. “He does, doesn’t he? I think you were right though; it’s better we do this here. Too much stimuli gets him a little short tempered.”
Lori nods. “We’re all like that, I think. So, listen. Ink will probably seem a little different during this.”
“Okay. Why’s that?”
“Bert’s familiar with me. I was planning not to go into my headspace for this. I figured I’d rather retain all the familiarity, just in case.”
“That makes sense. I can still see you in there when you’re Ink though.”
She smiles and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. “That’s because you’ve been around us enough now to take the two of us as one package.”
“It would seem strange for you to be one and not the other.”
“Didn’t you think Tech Shifting itself was strange?”
“I did. I guess I still do, to a point. I mean, it’s not something I have an urge to do, so understanding it fully is difficult, eh? What I do understand is it works for you. It’s important to you, and it’s a part of you. Knowing that makes it hard for me to picture living without it around me.”
Lori giggles. “Apart from admitting you find Ink strange, that was pretty sweet. You’re getting better at romantic stuff. Sort of.”
I run a hand through my hair without thinking about it and reply, “I’m…trying to let my guard down quicker around you. I know you aren’t out to get me, but I’m also aware that most of the rest of the city is.”
Lori leans in close enough I can feel her breath on my ear when she whispers, “I don’t need to be out to get you, I’ve already got you.” She must hear my breath catch, and there’s a smile in her voice as she stands up and says, “I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready.”
As she walks out of the room, I can’t help but think, And I have you.
One of the things that surprises me the most with Lori is the teasing. In the past, if someone intentionally tried to get me embarrassed, I would have thrown them into the “get out of my life” pile. Literally, once.
That’s because you were hurting. You liked it when you were with Charlie. And now, you like being with someone who knows you well enough to know exactly how to get a reaction from you.
I shake the voice away and turn my attention to Bert, who’s busy investigating his favourite corner of Lori’s couch. All things considered I need this tonight. At home, I have so many surveillance options because I’m naturally paranoid. Okay, it’s all cameras and audio recording, and they’re all cheap, but they work. That’s the important thing. Ordinarily, glancing up and seeing a camera stems my own fear mongering but with all this stuff going on with Angel? They’re making it worse. I’m second guessing what the government may have seen in the past and getting nervous Hoove will have to send someone to bust in and arrest me before I can figure out how to deal with it all.
Lori is the opposite of me. She has the bare minimum installed here. It’s decent equipment, a couple of steps up from my most basic stuff, but there isn’t much of it. Not fe
eling like I’m being watched is suddenly far more of a comfort than I ever thought it could be.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
I get to my feet and look at Bert. “Wait.”
“Caw.”
Leaving the living room, I turn right and walk up the hallway to the door to Lori’s bedroom. Honestly, it’s surprising how spacious her bungalow is. From the outside, it looks pretty small, but as she pointed out to me when I mentioned it, it goes back a fair way. I reach the door and give it a nudge open, and Ink walks out. We’d agreed I should introduce her to Bert rather than have her just walk in. Watching her beside me, I realise Lori was right. There’s a difference in Ink’s walk. I can’t even put my finger on what it is exactly, but it’s definitely there. It’s comfortable, well-practised, but less feline somehow.
“Bert,” I say, as we go back into the living room. “This is Ink.”
Bert ignores us, finding the company of a loose thread on the couch far more interesting.
I rub the bridge of my nose and sigh. Lori giggles from somewhere within Ink and makes her way over to him. She slowly raises a metallic paw and gives him a light rap on the head.
Bert stops what he’s doing and opens his beak but stops short of saying anything when he sees the big black panther staring at him.
“Bert, this is Ink,” I try again.
The rings around his eyes open and close a little as he looks Ink over. Finally, he says, “Caw.”
Ink sits back, slowly beginning to look more catlike in motion now, and flicks her tail back and forth.
Bert regards Ink and then hops down from the couch and waddles over, watching the panther’s tail move. After a few seconds, he makes a grab for it, but Ink flops it further to the side and stops still. When he moves towards her tail, she flops it back the other way again. Seeing how the game is going, Bert takes a step back and seems to think about his next move.
Ink watches.
I sit myself down onto the couch and do the same.
Bert steps forward and starts to scramble up Ink’s body, but she lets herself fall to the side and rolls onto her back, paws up as she tilts her head towards the metal gargoyle that’s falling less than elegantly off her side. Bert, undeterred, comes in again, and Ink rolls onto her front and starts pawing at the floor just in front of him. In a moment of pure mechanical athleticism, Bert leaps back. And crashes into my shin.
“Hey! Ow!”
Bert turns and looks at my shin and then angles his head up towards my face and gives me a stern, “Caw.”
That was a “watch where you put your feet,” I think. So, I pull my legs up onto the couch and rub the sore spot. “Thanks for the concern, Bert.”
But it’s too late, he’s already trying to tag Ink’s paws as she bounds around, now much more like herself.
*
“I am so sorry about your shin.”
I pull my arm a little tighter, and Lori snuggles right into my shoulder, her free arm reaching across me to rest on my other shoulder. “Most people don’t giggle when they’re sorry.”
“Defence mechanism,” she says, stifling a yawn.
“You know, you were right. Ink seemed different at first. I could tell when you dropped into just being her though.”
Lori nods. “It’s hard not to when I’m in the gear. Still, I loved Bert’s complete lack of surprise when I took her off in front of him.”
“I think he must have known. He registers body heat and stuff like that, so maybe he saw who was inside and recognised the shape of you or something.”
“I would have played with him longer, but he was so full-on. Especially compared to the meets.”
“You all have human stamina, and he has robo-destroyer stamina.”
Lori lets out a squeak that was probably a short laugh and shifts her head to look at where Bert has powered down to charge. “That’s true. I still wouldn’t be sure about him coming to a meet though. So many of us might get him overexcited, and I’m not sure all of them could keep up with him.”
“Jane’s husband, Murphy. He could. Have you seen how fast he runs after that ball? He’s pretty non-stop all night when they’re there.”
“That’s true. Maybe we could get them over for a double play date. We’ll keep Bert amused, and you two can chat about how great I am.”
I laugh. “Maybe. I like Jane. She’s very straightforward when she talks to me. It’s refreshing in my line of work.”
“That’s because, to the criminals, you’re a big bully.”
“Hey,” I say, tilting her head to mine for a kiss. “The bad guys deserve it.”
“Mmm. And what do I deserve?”
Two can play that game. I lean forward and lower my voice to a near purr. “Why don’t we go to bed, and you can find out?”
Her hand on my shoulder tenses, and now it’s her turn to have her breath catch. She raises her lips to my neck, and we don’t quite make it to the door.
Chapter Four
The night with Lori helped a lot. It gave me a chance to calm down and rest, which has left me much more capable of wearing my normal work mask. It even makes Gary Locke’s babbling bearable. Almost.
“…and so you see, the network is not entirely secure. But what is these days? The main thing, M-Miss Tanner, is there is enough security in place to ensure it is not easily hacked by anyone, even the government.”
“What about the people online who spend their free time breaking stuff?” I ask.
“Like who?”
“There are plenty of websites hidden away on the net where people go to test viruses or try their hand at breaking security systems.”
Locke smiles. “My systems are built b-by people like you mention. Unless they are pointed in this direction, they will have no reason to try getting through it all. And even then, it would be hard for them to find anything.”
Angel, who has been listening quietly so far, asks, “And why is that?”
“Because, M-Miss Tanner, Eddie Redwood left behind a legacy of useful tools. These files move around automatically, migrating to different servers regularly. If one is breached, the system will pick up on it and instigate another move.”
I sigh. “Is there really that much more for us to see?”
“Oh yes. There always was. Even The Roots of Eden are Rotten was merely a window into our research. Think of the blog like a movie trailer, teasing the audience with promises of what’s to come.”
“Trailers rarely give you an accurate depiction of what’s coming,” I reply.
“Quite so. We meant the blog as a way of enticing others to the cause. To get people talking, cause civil unrest, start the blind on the road to revolution.”
“So you’re a coward then.”
“A coward?”
“Yeah. If you truly wanted to cause a revolution, you would have either published the full findings online or moved ahead with what you knew yourself. At best, you were hoping someone else would kick up enough of a storm for the hidden things to fall out.”
“You misunderstood us, M-Miss Tam. We always intended to move ahead when the research was complete. On top of that, publishing everything would lead to the articles being buried and us along with it. Leaving a few blanks intrigues others enough to act. People naturally want to fill them in. Plus, you never reveal your full hand before it’s time. That gives your enemies more time to find a counter.”
“As much as I enjoy discussing the joys of criminal philosophy,” Angel cuts in, “we are on a time limit here. And one where we don’t actually know the limit. How many more files are left to transfer?”
“Oh, I am confident they’re all done. I intended to check with the remaining members, just in case they had something new but didn’t manage to update the storage, but we certainly have enough to be getting on with.”
“How many remaining members are there?” I ask.
�
�Hmm…with both Eddie Redwood and Frank Tyson dead, that leaves me and two others.”
“Harvey Grouder and Melanie Anderson.”
Locke turns to Angel and frowns. “How did you know that?”
“Frank Tyson gave away a lot when I interrogated him such as details about how the data was shared among the four of you. In a way, you were the last root to be dug up.”
“I…what does that mean?”
“Like you said, Mister Locke, you never reveal your whole hand before it’s time. The difference between you and me is I apply that thinking to allies as well as enemies. So, let’s just say Harvey, Melanie, and I are acquainted and leave it there. Now, I am going to start working on a few security issues in my own systems. You two can begin reviewing the documents. Oh, and Gary? If I find you haven’t pulled the information from the sources I was already tracking, I won’t be happy. If that is the case, I suggest you correct it. Trying to hide things from me would not be wise.”
And with that, Angel walks out of the room, leaving me alone with one of my least favourite people in the world. Before I can take a seat in front of a computer, Locke chimes in, “I don’t trust her. She’s hiding something.”
“I told you before. Everybody is hiding something.”
“Yes, but you’re a PI. Isn’t it your job to find out what people are hiding?”
“Looks to me like you’re doing a good enough job of that yourself.”
“Not in the same w-way, detective. I’m more like a grave robber. I find the things that aren’t so much hidden as buried. You find the real secrets.”
I roll my eyes at the blatant attempt to butter me up and turn to face a screen. “Whatever you say.”
When the silence has hung long enough to make it clear I’m not buying his shtick, he asks, “What do you think she meant by acquainted?”