by D. L. Denham
Gibson bit his lip. “I’m going wake the others. We’ll meet in here and decide what to do next.”
“Wait. There’s more. Kawasaki mentioned the Phoenix satellite and that he had some device that was tracking us here in Neopan.”
Gibson threw his hands in the air and paced the room. “Dammit! The thing is real, and now it’s being used to hunt us down!”
***
Gibson left to alert the others, while Reho and Rainne threw on some clothes. She was quiet, shocked by the turn of events. She stayed pressed against Reho, weak and afraid of what she had been thrown into. Reho sensed that it was all too much for her. But she was safest here with them, with him.
Everyone met in Reho and Rainne’s hotel room. Ends had placed the equipment on the bed, including his tracking monitor in its briefcase, a bag filled with gadgets that Sola had said came from their employer, and two packs, one filled with medical supplies and the other with provisions. They hadn’t expected what they now faced. Things were complicated, but at least now they knew their mission. There was never really any choice but to move forward and meet with the Black Hats. No other options were given. Rainne had fled from her homeland, having lost everything to the Hegemon. The crew had always been working toward this goal. That left Reho, who felt transformed for the first time, from a wanderer—a man whose home had been taken away due to choices he’d made and now had to live with—to a real member of Ends’ crew. His own tragic life had always been tied to the aliens, from his mother’s abduction while pregnant with him to her insanity as a result. Even his dreams hadn’t been immune. And now this: the Hegemon threat. And there was Jimmy, too. It had to all be connected somehow.
It was Rainne who asked the difficult question they’d all been avoiding.
“How are we going to leave the city?”
“Slow down, sweetie. We’re figuring it out,” Thursday said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
“The issue is Log’s Vectors,” Gibson said.
“Log’s what?” Thursday asked with a scowl on his face.
“You don’t know about the Vectors?” Gibson looked around the room. No one responded. “Oh wow! You grew up here and never heard about the Vectors? I hate knowing all this.”
“Tell us, Gibson,” Ends said.
“Log is an AI system. It can’t physically enforce anything unless it’s wired to it. Out here it’s just watching with cameras and reading whatever information gets fed to it. That’s why communities like Shibuya exist. And they exist because there aren’t enough Vectors to force them to comply.” Gibson waited for questions, but none came. “Vectors are androids, Log’s security protocols. I don’t know how many actually exist, but they’re rarely used. Log uses them only when it feels threatened.”
“Jesus!” Ends said. “How certain are you that Log will use them?”
“Considering what we learned about Kawasaki and the fact that at least one person has been murdered tonight, I’d say it’s not only probable but inevitable,” Gibson replied.
“Then we need to move quickly,” Sola said.
Ends formulated the plan. He would go out to the street and secure a city taxi. No one asked what he meant by that, but they knew they’d have to move quickly to reach Shibuya without any issues with Vectors. The crew would wait five minutes, then head into the lobby with the gear. Ends would be waiting with their ride.
Rainne was in the bathroom; he could hear the water running. Their relationship, first ignited on the yacht, had been suspended since arriving in Neopan. Everything had changed at an unexpected pace. She hadn’t mentioned her sister since arriving, but her faraway gaze told Reho how often she drifted back to that dreadful night, to her sister, bloodied and weeping, incapacitated by her massive girth, forced to witness the demise of her father’s kingdom and the death of his people from a wheelchair. Rainne would have to live with the memories. It would get easier, but that took time.
And then there was Jimmy. Somehow he was tied to everything. Reho felt his dreams’ connectedness with his childhood, his mother’s screams. What had tormented her all those nights until her death?
Sola looked up from the watch she’d been eyeing since Ends left. “It’s time.”
Everyone grabbed a bag and made their way to the elevator. They saw no one as they left the ninth floor.
Reho glanced at his Casio: 3:14. Sunrise was still three hours away. They had the greatest chance of reaching the fringed sector of Neopan if they were at the overpass before sunrise. From there, Reho hoped that, somehow, Coder might arrive, though given the direct hits her torso had taken, he knew it was unlikely. Then there was the issue of Kawasaki. He knew where they were going, and that jeopardized their plan.
They entered the lobby and scurried past the front desk. There was no one around except the night clerk, who was preoccupied and didn’t bother to ask if they’d enjoyed their stay.
A silver cab was pulled close to the curb. The driver was gone. The trunk was popped as Ends and Thursday rushed their equipment into its compact space.
“Let’s go,” Ends said as he jumped into the driver’s seat. Everyone piled in—four crammed in the back, Sola riding shotgun.
“Which way?” Ends asked.
“Take West Byt then North on Cardt,” Gibson replied.
Other silver taxis passed them as they made their way onto Cardt. Neopan lit up at night, reminding Reho of pictures of OldWorld Tokyo. There was beauty in the city despite its threat. The alien infrastructure was meant to contain them and offer what the outside world couldn’t: security. They’d traded a certain level of freedom for the safety Log offered. But not everyone saw it that way. The Hegemon had never left. And apparently Log was not an independent entity. It was tied to Omega in ways that maybe only Kawasaki understood. And he wasn’t on their side.
Blue and green lights flashed ahead.
“What is this?” Ends asked, knowing the answer before Gibson could respond.
“Turn right!” Gibson said.
They turned off the main road and headed north. The taxi lurched forward as Ends pushed the accelerator to the floor. Behind them, black and grey cars approached, flashing lights obscuring the faces of their drivers.
“Left!” Gibson said. The crew in the backseat leaned in unison. The city taxi swerved as one of the pursuit vehicles nudged its bumper.
“We’re not going to outrun them,” Thursday said.
Ends jerked the wheel left and right, but the car remained on his bumper.
“They’re Vectors,” Gibson said.
“How strong are they?” Sola asked. “Can they be shut down or killed or whatever?”
“Yeah. I mean, they’re replicated after humans,” Gibson replied.
“So if I rip its head off, it’ll stop moving?” Thursday said.
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Get us on the side of the car. I’ll take out the Vectors and meet you at the overpass before sunrise,” Thursday said. Ends didn’t reply. The car jerked as a second car slammed against them.
“We’re not going to last if we don’t take out the cars,” Thursday said.
“Do it,” Ends said, tapping the brake, sending one of the cars along side Thursday’s window. Thursday lowered the window and slipped one leg outside the car. He looked back at Reho.
“You up for this?” he asked, a smile wide across his face.
Thursday rocketed his body out the window and onto the hood of the car next to them just as it slammed against the side of their taxi. He disappeared behind them as the other car swerved back into the lane behind them. Reho twisted his body and kicked out the back window. The car them rammed again before Reho could jump. It sent their taxi through a shop window. Their tires smoked as Ends kept the accelerator to the floor, jerking them out of the shop’s window frame back onto the road. Their pursuer stopped ahead.
“Stop! Let me out!” Reho said but didn’t wait for a reply. He climbed out the back window. “We’ll meet at the overpass.�
��
Unsure what the Vectors would do, Reho raced ahead empty-handed to the pursuing car that had stopped ahead.
Both doors opened, and two blue androids stepped out into the night, their eyes and mouths lit red from within. Their thin bodies and stony faces resembled OldWorld mannequins dressed in black business suits. The driver came around to the front and stood next to the passenger. Neither seemed to be armed.
“You are Reho, Identification 8798324. You are in violation of Neopan Article 498C and Arcade Article 58B, 90E, and 108A,” the passenger android said. Its mouth didn’t move; a mechanical voice projected from a speaker behind its artificial lips.
Tires squealed behind him, but Reho didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening.
“Log has targeted everyone with you for questioning in regards to illegal activities surrounding the death of Bradford 9850321. Resistance will result in physical measures,” the driver said.
“Your companions must not leave,” the other replied as it walked away from the car and approached the space ahead of the crew’s taxi.
“Take me in,” Reho said as he knelt beside the car.
The driver unclipped a set of restraints from its belt. Standing near him, Reho grasped the Vectors arm and kicked one of its lower legs, sending it to the ground. He had expected to hear a snap or something; instead, he heard only the thud of the impact. Reho relieved the metal restraints from its grip. Its leg straightened with a low whine and jerk.
Tires squealed as the other android dodged the oncoming car. Ends slammed the brakes and was now backing up to them. Reho swung, striking the android across the face with the metal cuffs. Its blue rubber face ripped, revealing the reflective metal beneath. It struck back.
Metal battered against Reho’s face as the Vector slammed its artificial fist into him. Reho hit the ground as Ends drove into the android, sending it crashing through a repair shop’s window. The metal-on-metal crunch had crushed the taxi’s rear. Reho braced himself for a moment as he surveyed the damage. Some of the equipment in the trunk would be in pieces.
The other android struck Reho, sending him flying over the car and through the windshield of the black and grey cruiser. Blue and green lights lit the area as the android ripped the passenger door off the taxi. The car launched forward, leaving the android with the detached door in its hands. Ends would go to the overpass; he wouldn’t risk everyone’s safety.
Inside the patrol car, Reho noticed a hefty shaft between the two seats. It has to be a weapon! Reho detached the shaft and found a sliding lever. It hummed but didn’t do anything else. It was blunt and approximately a yard in length.
Reho exited through the driver’s door in time to avoid being dragged out. The android kicked, holding the detached taxi door as a shield, but Reho dodged the assault and struck the android twice with the shaft. Both hits sparked against the door-shield. The shaft was electrified! Reho hadn’t touched the weapon anywhere except its handle. He tapped the ground in front of him, and sparks explode onto the road’s surface. It was some sort of high-voltage taser. The passenger android returned. One of its legs was twisted, exposing several wires and a leaking tube that was draining white fluid with each step.
The android struck with the detached door. Reho evaded and hammered the shaft against the android’s hand. The electric shock caused its digits to flex, releasing the door it carried. Reho raised the weapon twice across its face. The blue covering tore, revealing more of its mirrored face. The other android attacked from behind. Reho ducked and sent it flying into the car with his foot. He struck it three times in the chest, causing its limbs to fling wildly from the electric blasts. The other android grabbed him from the back, clenching its hands around his neck. Reho spun, then pushed the android into its partner, freeing its grip from around his neck. The electric current flowed from one to the other, causing both to jerk.
He heard the motor before he saw the lights, still alternating between blue and green.
As Reho threw his body out of the way, another patrol car crashed into both androids. A noise filled the streets, as though a train had derailed and was crashing through the buildings around him.
As Reho neared the wreckage, he kicked a torn blue head to the side. Wires sparked from its neck as white fluid poured from where one of its red eyes had been. The other android was intact but pinned between the two patrol cars.
“Damn droids!”
Thursday kicked the door out as Reho approached. Blood poured from the top of his head.
“Out of five stars,” Thursday said. “I give the taxis in this city a safety rating of none.” He laughed as he stumbled onto the street.
Reho caught him before his body hit the ground.
“Where are the others?” Thursday asked.
“They went ahead as planned,” Reho said and nodded back toward the taxi. “And you crashed our ride.”
A wave of hysterical laughter erupted from Thursday. “I guess I did. Perhaps I should have parked and just walked over.”
Reho smiled. “You took out two androids?” He looked back in the direction from which Thursday had come.
“Yep. Ask me how later. Right now I just want to get off the street. How do you suggest we get to the overpass before sunup?” He straightened and stepped away from Reho. He walked over to one of the disabled androids. “I’ll borrow this.” He undid the tie from around the android’s neck and looped it across his forehead as a bandage.
Chapter 14
The sun rose behind them as they approached the Yaman Overpass. Railroad tracks ran beneath it, through Shibuya and away from the city into what remained of former Japan. Most of the tracks had been demolished long before Neopan had ever been built.
“I see them,” Reho said.
Thursday stood propped against him. They’d run most of the way until the pain became too great for Thursday.
The stolen taxi was nowhere in sight. A homemade cycle left the bridge and headed toward them, its gasoline engine rumbling as it descended along the broken pathway from the overpass. Driving it was a boy who looked no older than fifteen, his cheeks smeared with motor oil and his oversized goggles reminding Reho of Darksteam. He pulled up close before cutting his speed, and the cycle skidded to a stop before them.
“Get on guys!” He seemed excited to see them.
Thursday’s eyes shot to Reho. Reho shrugged and shifted Thursday’s weight toward the boy’s cycle.
“Dip stick,” Thursday mumbled, letting out a powerful moan as he slumped against the cycle.
The cycle jerked to a start before Reho could sit down. The boy swerved around debris, never letting up on the speed. Reho could hear Thursday mumbling as each sharp movement sent a new wave of pain through his leg.
The cycle raced back to the bridge. Reho could hear its engine whine, the youth never let up on the throttle until they reached the top of the bridge where the crew waited.
“I told you we should’ve gone back,” Sola said as Thursday stumbled off the bike.
Rainne wrapped her arms around Reho and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. They hadn’t been affectionate in front of the crew before. Reho lifted her up and returned the kiss.
“If you two are done repopulating the planet, I’d like to go,” Thursday said, annoyed as much by their affectionate display as by Sola pressing and poking on his leg.
“I think you might have fractured it,” she said.
“We’ve got to move now,” Ends said, noticing Thursday and Reho eyeing the young grease-covered boy. “Let’s save the small talk for when we’re safely underground. The boy is Trax, and he’s the escort sent from the Black Hats.”
“You got it,” their escort said. “Follow me. It’s not far.” The cycle’s engine whined as he thrust its throttle.
Reho recounted as much of the night as he could, filling Gibson in on what he could remember about Kawasaki just a few short hours ago in Arcade. Ends was most concerned about the tracking Kawasaki had referenced. Whatever the
Phoenix was being used for, it wasn’t going to make what they were about to do any easier.
After leaving the overpass, they traveled half a mile along a concrete path that ran beside the train tracks. They stopped at an OldWorld warehouse, its rusted exterior reminiscent of structures in the Blastlands.
The warehouse was a cover for one of the entrances into Shibuya, a city below ground. Reho had expected it to be like Neopan but built out of OldWorld buildings and rubble. This was the home to what Ends had called the Black Hats, but there were more groups here than just hackers. The boy on the bike was no hacker.
The tunnels ran the length of Shibuya. They were part of its old subway system. Every few minutes, Reho spotted groups of people near doorways that led off to other areas in the subcity. It was dark below. Lights ran along the ceiling every hundred yards or so, illuminating the grey pathways. Reho hadn’t noticed until now, but the crew only carried three bags. There had been six in the trunk of the city taxi.
They climbed off the tracks and onto a platform. There were three doors, each boarded up and abandoned. Their young escort stopped at one labeled Management S2, pried back a board, and shoved a nail into the handle’s key slot. The door popped open, and he disappeared inside. A few moments later, a rugged man appeared in the doorway. He lifted his hand and waved to someone behind him. He opened his mouth to speak and what Reho heard did not match the lusty man’s appearance.
“Come this way.” He spoke in a wheezy monotone, then sneezed into the crook of his arm. “Excuse me. This blasted cold has had me on door duty for four days now.”
On the other side, an office opened up to an entire complex. Reho could see where the walls of the office had long ago been demolished, connecting it with dozens of other rooms. Now, one capacious area housed stations that resembled the navigation room on the yacht. Reho could see the reverse side of glass panels, some displaying maps and others filled with lines of computer code.
“Everyone around here calls me Blaster.”
No one looked away from their tasks as the crew trailed through what Reho thought to be a command center. The screens that lined the walls showed coordinates and what appeared to be live footage from cameras throughout Neopan.