Binary Storm

by Christopher Hinz

  “Honestly, Nick, I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. It’s just… this is all a lot to absorb.”

  “Then stay and we’ll absorb it together.”

  “It’s this charity auction. I really have to show my face.”

  “You’ve got a couple hours to midnight. Stay for a little while.”

  She hesitated. He pressed on.

  “Despite what my son did to us, he was only building on what was already a mutual attraction. What we had was real between us from the beginning. The best parts of what made us us were not neurochemically induced.”

  That last statement wasn’t exactly true. And at this moment, Nick felt the need to be completely and utterly honest with her.

  “Actually, all forms of attraction are chemical at a certain level. If you really think about it, animals are drawn to one another because of an interlocking set of complex responses. When you get right down to it, human sexual desire and love are really nothing more than–”

  “Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking.”

  Bel took off her coat and eased closer. She whispered in his ear. He liked what he heard and followed her toward the bedroom.

  Sosoome darted back into the apartment before they got there. Nick angrily snatched an ancient hardcover from an end table and drew back his arm, preparing to throw The New Dictionary of Thoughts at the mech for interrupting at an inopportune moment.

  “Wait!” Sosoome urged, raising a protective paw to his face. “We’ve got company. Somebody just tripped the backyard sensors. They’re on the fire escape, on their way up here.”

  “Got an ID?”

  “Can’t lock on. They’re wearing a facial wipe, forensics filters and some kind of AV scrambler. Whoever it is, I got a hunch they’re not here to party.”

  “Armed?”

  “Can’t be sure.”

  Nick turned to Bel. “Did you come alone?”

  “Just my bodyguards in the limo. But I told them I was here on business, a quick stop before we go to the auction. Even if it was some emergency, they certainly wouldn’t try to sneak in.” She hesitated. “Should I call them?”

  “No.”

  Nick slipped his compact Glock from the holster attached to the underside of the coffee table. Sosoome wasn’t authorized to bear firearms but Nick had crafted a mini thruster for him. The mech retrieved it from under the sofa and snapped it onto his right foreleg.

  “Stay here,” Nick instructed Bel.

  He and Sosoome slipped into the bedroom and took up flanking positions around the bed. Sosoome activated his optical camo and blended into the woodwork at the foot of the bureau. They aimed their weapons at the back window, the only possible entry point for someone sneaking up the fire escape. Outside, the Roman chariot holo had trotted away, leaving in its wake only smogged darkness.

  “The intruder is attempting to remote scan the apartment,” Sosoome silently reported over Nick’s attaboy link. “They’re using a Z-Rex 8000.”

  That was serious high tech military gear, not readily available to the average person. Whoever it is, they’re a pro.

  “I can’t block the scan,” the mech said.

  The intruder would know they were lying in wait. They might even be tapping into Nick’s attaboy, monitoring his conversation with Sosoome. If so, there was nothing to be done about it. Nick knelt beside the bed, steadied the Glock in a two-handed shooter’s stance.

  “Don’t fire until I signal,” he whispered.

  “Got it.”

  A silhouette appeared as the intruder reached the fire escape landing outside the window. The figure stopped, leaned forward and tapped gently on the glass.

  “Nice of them to knock,” Sosoome said.

  “Don’t drop your guard,” Nick hissed, easing toward the edge of the window.

  He hit the lift control. The window hummed as it slid open.

  The intruder appeared to be a woman. She was dressed in black and wore a jacket with the hoodie up. He didn’t recognize her. But with access to such tech toys, she might well be disguising her identity, even her birth sex.

  “Sorry for my entrance,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  Nick recognized the voice, which made him come even more alert. He kept his gun trained on her as he motioned her to come inside.

  She climbed through the window and swept back her hoodie, revealing brown curly hair and a heavy jowled face. She rubbed a silver ring on her little finger against her forehead. The ring deactivated her facial wipe. Skin paled and cheeks lost their baby fat. Her hair straightened into bangs the color of ripening peaches.

  It was Olinda Shining.

  Forty-Six

  Bel was disappointed at the interruption yet pleasantly surprised at seeing Olinda again. She’d thought about Ektor Fang’s wife often since their initial meeting, especially on those occasions when her mind was inescapably drawn to that distant horizon free of violence and war.

  Olinda walked slowly out of the bedroom followed by Nick and Sosoome. Their weapons remained trained on her back.

  “Put down your guns,” Bel said, making eye contact with Olinda. “She’s not here to harm us.”

  “And we know this how?” Nick asked.

  “Call it a hunch.”

  Nick looked reluctant, but he laid his Glock on the coffee table and motioned Sosoome to stand down.

  “What’s wrong with using the front door?” Nick demanded.

  Olinda directed her words at Bel. “My husband is in trouble and needs help. There wasn’t time for him to go through the usual complexities to set up a meeting. I couldn’t find Nick’s address so I picked up your trail at E-Tech and followed you here. If I’d come in by the main entrance, your bodyguards in the limo out front would have spotted me. I couldn’t take the chance of being seen. The fire escape seemed more prudent.”

  “How’d you know she’d come to my place?” Nick asked, his face brimming with suspicion.

  “I figured the two of you would be getting together on New Year’s Eve.” She paused. “It is, after all, often a celebratory night for lovers.”

  It was Bel’s turn to be suspicious. They’d kept their affair under wraps. As far as she knew, only Doctor Emanuel had known. And neither she nor Nick had mentioned their status on the night they’d met Olinda and Ektor Fang.

  “How’d you know about us?” she asked.

  “There are signs if you know how to read them.”

  “You’ve had training in covert activities,” Nick concluded. “Your little tech toys alone prove it.”

  Olinda nodded. “I’m a special investigator with the Department of Defense. Domestic counterintelligence unit.”

  “You’re DOD?” Bel uttered in surprise.

  “Yes. When I’m working, it’s Major Shining.”

  Nick scowled. “And do your superiors happen to know you’re a servitor?”

  Bel laid a hand on his arm. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Exactly how is your husband in trouble?” she asked.

  “He contacted me a few hours ago on a private channel we’d set up for emergencies. He’s certain that his CI status has been compromised and that the Ash Ock know he’s betrayed them.” Worry flashed across her face. “If they catch him, he’s dead.”

  She turned to Nick. “To answer your question, no, my superiors certainly don’t know I’m married to a Paratwa assassin. Which means I can’t bring him in. I can’t offer him sanctuary or even protection. The DOD would blacksite a Paratwa assassin, suck him dry of intel by any and all means. And they’d do the same to me when they found out about our relationship, which they no doubt would in due time.”

  “Where is he?” Bel asked.

  “On his way to a safe house, one the Royals supposedly don’t know about. It’s just across the border. I can get us there without going through a transit station.”

  Nick remained skeptical. “Why don’t you just call him and ask him to meet us over on this
side of the wall?”

  “I don’t dare. That emergency channel is one-way, meant for him to reach out to me. If I tried using it to contact him, the call could be traced. And by now the Ash Ock certainly will have put Reemul on his tail.”

  “Who’s Reemul?” Bel asked.

  “Sappho’s errand boy, the one they call the liege-killer.” A faint shiver seemed to pass through Olinda. “My husband has had a few encounters with him over the years. Reemul is crazy dangerous. A sick twisted freak of a binary, as awful as they come.”

  “All the more reason for us not to risk a clandestine get-together,” Nick said.

  Bel agreed. “The liege-killer could be closing in on your husband as we speak.”

  Olinda regarded her with pleading eyes. “Help bring Ektor Fang in. Give him asylum and a new identity. In turn, I promise you that he’ll provide detailed profiles on every assassin he’s ever met. Plus tactical info, locations of secret bases, much more. He has a wealth of knowledge about them. He’s been one of their most trusted lieutenants. You could learn more in one session than he’s revealed in all your previous meetings.”

  Bel was intrigued. She caught Nick’s eye. She could tell he was tempted as well. They might never again have such an opportunity. It could be worth the risk.

  Olinda continued pitching. Her tone sounded increasingly desperate.

  “Bel, I swear to you. If you save my husband, I will make sure he gives you everything, every last bit of intel he has on the Paratwa.”

  Nick gave Bel a subtle nod.

  “All right,” Bel said. “We’ll do it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll go to this safe house with you,” Nick said. “Bel can stay here.”

  “No, Nick,” Bel countered. “I’m coming with you.”

  “It’s too dangerous. Think about it for a sec and you’ll realize it makes no sense putting both of us at risk.”

  “That’s a good point. So if you want, you remain behind and I’ll accompany Olinda.”

  Nick sighed.

  “I’ll go downstairs first and get rid of my bodyguards. I’ll tell them I’ve gotten another ride to the charity auction.”

  Bel terminated further objections by donning her coat and heading for the door. Nick wasn’t pleased but she clearly wasn’t going to allow him to dissuade her.

  Bel reached the street, explained to the bodyguards. As the limo disappeared around the corner, Olinda and Nick emerged from the apartment house.

  “I’m parked just down the street,” Olinda said.

  “Shit!” Nick muttered. “I forgot my gun.”

  “You won’t need it.”

  “Yeah, right. We’re going into the zoo after dark to meet a renegade assassin who’s being hunted by the liege-killer. What could go wrong?”

  He dashed back into the house.

  It was a cold night, free of snow but with icy patches from an earlier storm. Olinda tightened her hoodie and stared worriedly into the distance.

  Bel laid a hand on her arm. “I’m sure your husband will be OK. Between Nick and me, we’ll figure out a way to keep both of you safe.”

  Olinda forced a smile. “I know your reasons for doing this aren’t altogether altruistic. But thank you anyway.”

  Bel nodded. She could only hope that the promise she’d just made was, for all their sakes, achievable.

  Forty-Seven

  Olinda took control of her four-door Buick and drove it across Philly at a breakneck pace. The main avenues had been de-iced from the last storm but many side streets lacked thermal strips and remained slippery. That didn’t slow Olinda down. She gunned the vehicle through intersections and skated it around icy corners. Bel, accustomed to slow and steady limo rides, found herself gripping the sides of the passenger seat cocoon and hanging on for dear life.

  She glanced at Nick in the back seat but he didn’t look worried. Then again, he’d been born in an era where everyone drove their own vehicles and violent crashes were the norm.

  They made it safely to their destination, a narrow street about two kilometers from the wall. Olinda led them into a brick row home that looked to have been built in the same era as Nick’s apartment house.

  They descended into the basement. Olinda pulled back a false wall to reveal a locked metal door. She keyed an entry code and paused for optic and DNA scanners to authenticate her identity. The door opened. They stepped into a multidirectional freight elevator that dropped several stories before stopping and changing to horizontal travel mode. The compartment whisked sideways at a gradually accelerating rate.

  “Nice way to make a crossing,” Nick offered.

  “The DOD doesn’t mess around with half-ass tunnels and sewers,” Olinda said.

  “What’s it used for?” Bel wondered.

  “There’s a lot more back-and-forth trade between sec and unsec regions than most people are aware of. We import a fair supply of our military recruits from unsec regions. They tend to make good soldiers, tough and resilient. Some we train and send back over to the other side as assets.”

  “Spies.”

  “We prefer to think of them as eyes on the ground. As for exports, we send over a lot of food and clothing as well as some tech, mostly low-end stuff. The DOD isn’t only about using troops and weapons to defend our country.”

  Bel understood. E-Tech and many other international organizations and businesses also donated necessities to help the unfortunates living in the world’s unsec regions. She wished she could say it was all done strictly for humanitarian reasons but most donors had an agenda. Providing aid packages was a tried and true method for keeping a large and impoverished people stable and under control. The greatest fear among those living in secured areas was the ever-expanding population of unsecs fanning the fires of revolution and storming the walls.

  The elevator slowed to a stop. They exited into another basement and headed upstairs. The house they were in appeared to be abandoned. But from outside came the whoops and shouts of a street party going full blast.

  Olinda peeled back a torn curtain and peered through the cruddy window. The street was crammed with New Year’s Eve revelers.

  “Must be a couple hundred of them,” Nick said. “How far away is this safe house?”

  “Right around the corner,” Olinda said. “But…”

  “You’re worried they’ll bother us,” Bel concluded.

  “I can’t spot any gang IDs,” Nick said. “At least not from any of the really lethal bangers.”

  “That doesn’t mean we won’t run into trouble,” Olinda said.

  Nick shrugged. “We’ve come this far.”

  Bel nodded in agreement.

  Olinda opened the front door. “Follow me and stay close. And Nick, no matter what happens, don’t draw your gun. That’s a sure-fire invite for a shootout.”

  “Duh. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

  Bel followed Olinda, with Nick bringing up the rear. They slipped easily into the crowd, most of whom appeared well-inebriated or sky-high on various pharma. They passed a trio of mokkers vaping from belt pouches. One of them glared at Bel. She avoided eye contact but sensed him watching her for a long moment. Finally, he turned away and ambled off into the crowd.

  They’d just about reached the party’s outer perimeter when an obese man garbed only in dirty underwear stepped in front of Olinda. He wore a morph mask of a grinning frog-faced cartoon character.

  “You and me, babe,” he grunted.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Olinda took a step to get around him but Frogface moved to block her. The morph mask reacted to his new emotional state, transformed from a grin into a pulsating scowl. He grabbed hold of her arms.

  “I said, you and me, bitch!”

  Olinda opened her mouth wide…

  …and projectile vomited in his face.

  “What the fuck!” he screeched, shoving her away and wiping puke from his mask.

  “I am so sorry. I have a highly contagio
us disease.”

  She threw up again, this time aiming for the ground in front of him. Vomit ricocheted off the macadam, splashed across his bare thighs.

  That was enough for Frogface. He scurried away, disappeared back into the masses.

  “Cool trick,” Nick said. “TSU?”

  Olinda nodded. Bel frowned, perplexed.

  “Tactical spasm unit,” Olinda explained. “The trigger is a tongue-activated molar implant and you swallow the paroxysm pill ahead of time. You just have to eat a decent meal before activating it.”

  “Lucky for him you weren’t using the militarized version,” Nick added. “That one sprays sulfuric acid.”

  They made it around the corner without further incident. There were more vintage row homes. A few people were scattered along the pavements but none appeared likely to give them trouble. Olinda led the way to a decrepit house in the middle of the block.

  “We’re just going to walk right in?” Nick challenged.

  “It’s OK,” Olinda said, breathing a sigh of relief. “The upstairs shades are down.”

  “And no one would ever guess that’s the all-clear signal,” Nick muttered.

  Olinda didn’t hear him. She was already rushing through the door, anticipating a reunion with her husband. Nick drew his gun. He and Bel scurried after her.

  The front room was devoid of furniture but reasonably clean. There was no sign of Olinda. A moment later, her joyous shout emanated from the next room.

  Nick holstered the Glock but kept his hand near the butt as they entered a dilapidated kitchen. Bel couldn’t help but smile. Olinda and one of Ektor Fang’s tways were warmly embracing. The other tway had his back to them, was peering out into the backyard through a crack in the shade.

  “I’m so glad you’re safe,” Olinda said, still beaming as she pulled away. She motioned to Nick and Bel. “They’ve agreed to help us.”

  Both tways turned to face them. “Thanks.”

  “You”

  “were”

  “our strongest”