Life is a Beautiful Thing (4-Book Box Set)

by Harmon Cooper

  A head in my lap causes me to look down. Yeshi reaches her pointer finger towards my mask. She stops at my neck and runs her finger down my chest, over the hill of my (Carloza’s) belly, stopping just above my crotch. She kicks out her middle finger, giving her hand the appearance of an oddly shaped man with his hands behind his back. Using her two fingers, she walks across the space between my belly button and the result of having a Y chromosome.

  I should probably ramble about XY sex-determination but I’m not given the opportunity. Someone knocks at the door and Yeshi springs back to artificial life. She reaches into her purse, retrieving something that appears to be a toy gun.

  “Who is it?” she asks.

  “Hajime.”

  “I’ll get the door.” The gun goes back in her bag and she moves to the other side of the room. Seconds later a man enters wearing a basket over his head. He looks at me and bows.

  “My name is Hajime,” he says in English.

  “Meme,” I say, extending my hand from my seated position. It’s not often that one is greeted in the morning by a man wearing dark blue kimono and a basket over his head. Let the day begin!

  TWENTY-SIX∞

  Clouds gathered in the sky to watch what would soon unfold. The sun hid behind the cumulus nuggets, occasionally peeking over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of the ensuing action. Tijuana, Mexico. A black aeros pulled into the sky lane on the tenth floor of the El Pito Grande Hotel y Casino. It was time to rescue Nelly and kill Carloza.

  Rinchi: How do you want to go in?

  Keva: I suppose we should have planned that. There are two options: guns a-blazing or like a pair of ninjas. Any preference?

  Rinchi: Ninjas.

  Keva: Wrong answer.

  Keva opened her door as soon as the aeros hovered to a stop. She swung her grenade launcher around.

  Cha-thunk! Cha-thunk! Cha-thunk! Cha-thunk!

  Two smoke grenades blasted into the aeros lobby, followed by a flash-bang and a frag. “Are you coming?” she asked, turning to Rinchi.

  “I’ll move to the rooftop,” the driver shouted to Keva. “See you there.”

  Green lasers fire from the open lobby, their beams visible in the smoke. Keva whipped her modified Humgun off her belt and fired six shots into the smoke with pinpoint accuracy. The lasers stop.

  Rinchi, who was less shocked than she was amazed, had yet to fire her weapon.

  “You are incapable of being scared, droidie, but you can be overwhelmed,” Keva said over her shoulder as they walked.

  Snapping out of it, Rinchi swiveled her PHASR around so it was now pointing at Keva’s back. For a moment, she thought about squeezing the trigger and ending it right there, but she needed the crazed assassin for the time being. She followed quickly behind her.

  Rinchi: Ready.

  “Good, let’s go. Three targets approaching on the right.”

  An elevator door opened and Keva launched a frag grenade inside. It exploded; the blast force sent both Keva and Rinchi spinning backwards. Rinchi’s body hit a curved lobby sofa. She turned her PHASR just in time, holding it close to her chest. She stood, shaking her head at Keva, who was now laughing.

  Rinchi: Minimum safe distance is not a suggestion.

  “You clearly have been sucking dick longer than you’ve been conducting dynamic entry. How about letting me handle things?”

  Rinchi raised her PHASR and shot a Lightsaber blast inches above Keva’s shoulder. They both heard a man scream as the concentrated beam tore a hole through his chest.

  “Don’t think for a minute you saved my ass,” Keva turned. “Now, if I were a hotel worker, where would I be?”

  There you two are!” She stepped from a chair onto the long receptionist desk and fired four rounds from her Humgun. “Did you know that collateral damage counts towards your rankings?”

  Rinchi shook her head. The smoke had begun to clear, revealing the damage done by the frag grenade. Debris and patches of blood littered the lobby.

  “A civilian counts as three-fifths of a person. Someone with a sick sense of historical humor based it off the Three-Fifths Compromise, if that means anything to you. Most representatives don’t know about this little kill-count booster. Some still have a conscience and try and do the moral thing, the fools – morality is weakness.”

  A targeting laser flashed out of a long hallway. Rinchi cut the weapon and the man behind it in half with her PHASR.

  “You’re fast,” Keva said, “but you should be fast because you aren’t human. Humans are slow and stupid when it comes to weapons. They’re much weaker than beings like us.”

  Rinchi: We aren’t alike.

  “We’re more alike than you’d care to admit. We both know what people are capable of.”

  Rinchi: I don’t believe you.

  “It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.” Keva looked up at the ceiling. “On the count of three, dive left, cover down and aim your weapon over your shoulder. Set your PHASR to stun. One … two … three!”

  A four foot section of ceiling dropped into the room, followed by a frag and a flash-bang. Rinchi held the trigger down as soon as the grenade went off. A big bald man with a bigger automatic weapon dropped through the hole, firing blind and landing right in the stun beam.

  Keva walked behind him, kicked his weapon away. She lifted him up by back of his collar. “Ah, he doesn’t have any hair to pull. This would be so much more fun if he had hair to pull! No body armor either – you must be an idiot.”

  Rinchi stepped in front of the man aiming her Humgun at the spot between his eyebrows.

  “Don’t pull the trigger yet.” Keva slapped her hand against the back of the man’s head. “What’s your name, baldy? Oh, that’s right, you can’t talk. I’ll be straight with you – we need a human shield. If there are any security codes, you can clear those for us as well. How does that sound?”

  He struggled to speak, but only made choking and gasping sounds.

  Rinchi did a quick vital scan.

  Rinchi: His name is Manuel Torres. He has a bionic arm and leg.

  “Hello, Manuel Torres with the bionic arm! Let’s see…” She knocked her knuckles against his left shoulder. “That’s the winner. Rinchi, stun him again.”

  Keva dropped him and stepped back, making room for Rinchi to zap him again.

  Keva grinned. “Good, now hand me your blade, droid whore. I was wondering why you brought that and now I’m glad you did!”

  Rinchi pulled the knife and tossed it over. Keva swiftly dug the knife into Manuel’s shoulder. “Ah, there’s the spot. I want you to feel this, so I’ve decided to cut your arm off on the you side of your attachment point. That okay with you?”

  His eyes filled with hatred.

  “Try not to scream, chico.”

  Keva put her weight into the knife, sawing it through bone and tissue. Manuel clenched his mouth shut and breathed loudly through his nose. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of registering pain.

  “This is harder than it looks!” she said, wiping pretend sweat away from her shiny forehead. “Time’s running out. Rinchi, just PHASR it off. It’s cheating, and it’ll cauterize the wound, but it should still hurt plenty.”

  She dropped the knife and stepped back. With surgical precision, Rinchi lasered his arm off and it hit the floor with a solid clunk.

  He still hadn’t screamed.

  Keva made a frowny-face. “He’s a tough cholo; I’d at least expect a whimper by now.” She took a few steps closer to him, her face suddenly devoid of emotion as the real Keva appeared. “You ready to go, cabrón? Sorry about your arm, but if you’re a nice human shield, maybe I’ll let you keep your life long enough to get an upgrade. Maybe.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN∞

  Antimeria, Sauria and Lorem Ipsum sat in a private conference room at the MercSecure headquarters. The room was mainly used for viewing assaults-in-progress, but it occasionally doubled as a conference room. A floor-to-ceiling holoscreen projecte
d two moving images. Currently, the three were focused on the feed from Keva’s ocular implant. Rinchi’s perspective was also visible in a small box on the left hand side of the large screen.

  The three men had just watched Rinchi slice off Manuel’s arm when Sauria had a hunch. “Lorem, check this Manuel guy out … see where he stands in the organization.”

  “Looks to me like another drug cartel thug,” Antimeria said under his breath.

  Lorem turned to the screen and said, “Snapshot of male suspect. Cross reference.”

  Dozens of pictures streamed by in a carousel. The best picture of Manuel was selected and another screen appeared, cross referencing his facial features to that of known cartel members. A mug shot came up with information about a prison sentence Manuel Torres had served, alongside information regarding the make and model of his bionic arm and leg.

  Lorem said, “translate all Spanish data. Look for information relevant to Manuel Torres” position in Carloza’s organization.”

  Thousands of lines of text appeared as the computer processed the request. An answer came seconds later, explaining that Manuel Torres was in the upper echelon of the organization.

  “Good. Should I say something?” Lorem turned to Sauria.

  Sauria nodded. “Carloza’s organization supplies Walliburton escorts with twenty-seven percent of their illegal pollutes. We need Carloza gone, not his organization – this is of course an issue of national security. Manuel could be the guy to take over we retire Carloza. If we don’t kill him and instead, put him in the driver seat, he’ll owe us. Direct message Keva.”

  “Message to Keva,” Lorem said aloud.

  A green light appeared on the screen, indicating that it was recording.

  “Keva, this is Lorem Ipsum.”

  She responded seconds later. The video showed Keva, Rinchi and Manuel in a stairwell.

  “Talk to me, boss.”

  “Do not kill Manuel Torres. He will take over for Carloza.”

  “Say again?”

  Her feed tweaked out as Rinchi fired her weapon.

  “Mission adjustment: do not kill Manuel Torres. Do not kill Manuel Torres.”

  “Seriously?”

  The three men watched her punch a wall on the video feed. A crater formed where her fist had just been.

  “Keva, you have your orders. Stop punching walls.”

  “Is that an order too?”

  “Disciplinary measures will be taken if you continue your insubordination. Spare Manuel. We will prep him to take over the organization. Install a direct link agent in his spine.”

  “Remind her not to kill Noah either. I want my property back,” Antimeria said. “Oh, the baby too.”

  “Return Nelly along with her Humandroid assistant, Noah,” Lorem said to the holoscreen. “Don’t harm the baby.”

  “I can’t promise anything,” Keva said.

  “Those are your orders. Disconnect feed.”

  The feed disconnected and Keva shoved Manuel face-first into a wall. She instructed Rinchi to stun the drug thug again.

  “Zoom Keva’s viewpoint seventy-five percent,” Lorem said.

  The view narrowed as Keva’s viewpoint enlarged; the three men watched as Keva took a small vial filled with yellow liquid out of the pouch attached to her belt and showed it to Rinchi. A small electronic device that looked like a miniature seahorse with two faces wiggled inside the tiny vial. She popped the vial’s plastic covering off with her thumb and pressed the opening against Manuel’s skin.

  “Zoom in on the DL agent,” Lorem said again.

  The camera zoomed in just in time to see the small seahorse burrow its way into Manuel’s skin, leaving a small red hole.

  “Good … ” Sauria turned to Antimeria, who had never seen something like this before. “Don’t worry; it isn’t as painful as it looks.”

  “What does it do?”

  Sauria rubbed his eyes, as if watching all this was making him drowsy. “The DL agent attaches itself to a person’s spine. It can’t be removed and it explodes on command. Manuel is now working for us.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT∞

  The Humandroid with the basket on his head turns to Yeshi and says, “I’ve found someone willing to do a data-switch.”

  “Data-switch?” I ask, my voice partially muffled by my pollution mask. “What’s that?”

  Yeshi explains, “As you already know, if you body-switch with someone, the FCG and other Humandroids will still be able to see your life chip data in another person’s head, like they did yesterday. Body-switching is a one for one swap, you become that person and retain your data and they become you and retain their data.”

  “Okay…”

  “Data-switching only changes the person’s personal identifying markers. That person is still in their body, but they have your data and vice versa. A vitals scan will make you appear as if you were someone else, but you are actually… ummm… you.”

  “I get it now. A data-switch simply changes my life chip information, meaning that I will stay in this body, Carloza’s body, after I’ve data-switched with someone.”

  “Exactly! You will still be Meme, but you’ll technically have a different name, at least if someone checks your life chip.”

  “So I won’t get a new body, just a new name?”

  “Correct.”

  “Damn, I hate this body.”

  “We can deal with Carloza’s body later.”

  An advertisement cascades across my pollution mask’s eye lenses. It is accompanied by a man hopping around in a gothic frog costume. “Well, anything beats sitting in here and looking at shitty ads all morning.” I push the mask off my head. “What’s with the basket, anyway?” I ask Hajime.

  “It is a high-level Zen practice. I’m sure Yeshi can explain it later. Even Humandroids have egos that must be abandoned.”

  Whatever. I stand, feeling a bit wobbly in the knees. I remember that Yeshi brought me a Soylent bar. I find it lying on the pleather couch and quickly wolf it down. Grainy, green, earthy, organic – the taste of the future.

  “Good,” Hajime said, “now that you’ve fed yourself, let’s visit my contact.”

  I hate Carloza’s stinking fat body. The thought that I will be trapped in this blimpy body for a bit longer fills me with what could be construed as sorrow. Regardless, a data-switch seems to be the right way to go. I close my eyes, quickly running a search on data-switch tech – nada.

  “No hits on data-switching,” I say aloud. “That’s strange.”

  “The makers of data-switch technology have created web crawlers that constantly delete information regarding the tech,” Hajime explains. “They don’t want the FCG and other corporate-government entities to obtain the technology. Remember, it is different than body-switching.”

  “Fair enough.” I look from Hajime to Yeshi. “Also, where are the weapons you got last night? You never showed me.”

  “I have a modded Humgun.” Yeshi shows me the gun. It is sleek, made of a dark gray metal. “This one is for you,” she says as she hands me a small toy gun.

  “It’s a plastic toy.”

  “No,” Hajime said, “it is meant to resemble a plastic toy. It’s actually made from superplastically-formed aluminum alloy. It uses advanced PHASR technology, appropriated by the Japanese government from the American military. Remember, Japan still has issues with China over several islands. The Americans provide us with weapon blueprints once the tech has been approved by the FCG for treaty-based disbursement. They give it to us, we strip it down and sometimes, we improve upon it. Have you ever seen a PHASR rifle?”

  “No.”

  “It’s big,” Yeshi says. “It’s capable of multiple laser modes. The most common for law enforcement usage is neuromuscular incapacitation.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  Hajime says, “Extreme stunning capabilities. However, this toy gun model is too small for neuromuscular incapacitation. This one is only equipped with the Lightsaber mode. Plus it
is … Kawaii compliant.”

  “Lightsaber mode?” I look at the small gun skeptically. “Did you say it was cute?”

  “Aim it at the ceiling.” Hajime looks up, scanning the floor above us. “You won’t hit anything if you aim it there,” he says.

  I point the small gun at the ceiling.

  “Now, pull the trigger and press the button on the back of the gun at the same time.”

  A blue beam erupts from the end of the toy gun, searing a quarter-sized hole in the ceiling. There is a subtle vibration with the shot, but no recoil. I quickly release the trigger.

  Hajime nods his basket-encased head. “It’s not the most powerful thing, but you could easily decapitate someone with it. Think of it as a lethal laser pointer – aim and swipe.”

  “Nice.” I pocket the tiny gun. Aim and swipe.

  “There is a metal button on top of the weapon,” he says, “make sure you press this before you put it in your pocket. It’s the safety switch.”

  I press the button and return it to the front pocket of my jeans. “One more question: how much is this going to cost me? No one has mentioned money and I’m pretty much broke, aside from the account I have in Brazil and the money Nelly – rest in peace – left me.”

  “Yeshi has already paid me in full,” Hajime says.

  “I used the rest of the money Nelly had,” she says. “It was worth it.”

  “So we’re broke?”

  Hajime shakes his basket-head. “You will be until later today.”

  TWENTY-NINE∞

  Lorem Ipsum grinned. “Hajime has made contact with Meme and Yeshi. He’s with them now. It looks like today is going to be a fine day, gentlemen.”

  “Can we see a video feed?” Antimeria asked. He could hardly contain his excitement. It was like he was there, like he was a part of these missions. At least it felt that way with Keva’s live feed.