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

by Harmon Cooper

  “What’s that?” she took a step forward and loosened the ball gag.

  “You are so fucked! You dare … you dare assault me!?”

  Rinchi brought her fist back and struck him with a precisely calculated blow that would maximize his black eye. It felt good doing that, it felt so human to feel power. She’d felt it before she’d become an assassin, but there was nothing like inflicting pain on someone. Nothing like it at all.

  Lorem Ipsum: Rinchi, you need to leave now! You have company!

  Rinchi spun around, looking at the door.

  “Ha!” Bleak laughed, his chin covered in blood.

  Rinchi tossed her things to her bag, ignoring the Tech Icon.

  “That’s right, droid bitch,” Bleak spat. “Do you really think I travel without protection?”

  Rinchi: What about Bleak?

  Ipsum: Leave! Leave! There are five hostiles coming up the stairwell. Your recovery team is en route. Get to the rooftop now!

  Rinchi lifted Bleak by the shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Using you as a shield, you whiny cry-baby piece of shit.”

  Ipsum: Do not bring him with you! Do not …

  Rinchi: They’re not going to shoot their principle, are they? Tell the recovery team to hurry. Which stairwell are they coming from?

  Ipsum: Facing out from the doorway, nine o’clock..

  “No struggling, okay?” she said in a sweet voice as she yanked Bleak by the arm. She jammed the ball gag back in his mouth. “There, that’s better.”

  Rinchi stepped into the hallway with Bleak in front of her. She walked to the right, using Bleak as a shield. The layout of the hotel was visible in the corner of her ocular display, making it easy to decide on the best exit strategy. She made it to the fire exit when she heard the door kick open on the opposite end of the hallway.

  “We need to hurry now,” she told the gagged man. She ran up the stairs, dragging Bleak behind her. His body had totally gone limp in protest; the back of his heels hit each stair as Rinchi continued to lug him to the top. They were a floor above Bleak’s suite when the stairwell door to Bleak’s floor slammed open.

  “Clear! Go-Go-Go!” echoed up the stairwell.

  Rinchi: Is the recovery team here yet?

  Lorem Ipsum: On the rooftop. Hurry!

  THIRTY-FOUR∞

  The roof of the Hilton in downtown LA.

  Aside from a mechanized aeros landing port, the rooftop was more or less bare. Rinchi stood with Bill Bleak as her shield with her tactical knife held to his throat, positioned in a way that would make it impossible for them to shoot her without killing him first.

  The door leading to the rooftop would burst open any moment now and she had to be ready for anything.

  Keva: Surprise droidieboy, we’re here to rescue you. Keep your cool for just a moment longer.

  Rinchi: Where?

  Keva: Monique is on your ten, I’m on your two. You’re getting careless in your old age. You should have scanned the area before…

  Rinchi: I was a little busy.

  She looked left and saw Monique in her representative gear. The lights of the city added accent marks to her darkened face. Her hair was tied back, her HKuS ArmWaffe in her primary hand, a small olive drab device in the other. To her right Rinchi saw Keva similarly dressed, her body outlined in softened blue tones.

  The rooftop doorway kicked open and a large black man stepped out. He was heavily armored, wore a pair of ocs and packed a drum-fed combat shotgun. He was followed by four other men equally as large, all packing enough heat to melt an iceberg.

  “Release Mr. Bleak!” he roared.

  Keva stepped out of the shadows. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again, Max.”

  The man smiled, a big toothy smile that shined like a beacon in the dark night. “Ah, meine kleine schnuckiputzen. I thought I killed you last time. I’m glad to see that you’re still alive, or at least some portions of you are. Replace anymore parts and you’ll be a droid.”

  Keva yawned. The wind picked up, tossing her white hair around her face. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Keva: Get Bleak to cover now!

  Rinchi threw him to the ground and landed on top of him. Three explosions merged into one as tungsten sleet swept the roof forward of the MercSecure team.

  “How did you?” Rinchi asked as the debris settled.

  Bleak tried to scream through the ball gag as he realized what had just happened to his security detail.

  Monique almost smiled. “Old school. Improved Flechette Claymores backstopped with blast deflector.” She tossed the clacker to Rinchi.

  Bleak turned pale, retched and tried not to vomit with the ball gag in place.

  “That’s not good,” Rinchi observed, and snatched the ball gag out of Bleak’s mouth, just as he projectile vomited his fancy Tex-Mex dinner and six beers. “I’ll leave it out, but if you make a sound I’ll cut your tongue out!” She and Keva traded grins.

  Rinchi: I think I’ll be able to get the information from him now. You have been watching all this, haven’t you? Should I bring Bleak to company headquarters?

  Ipsum: Dammit! This was supposed to be a quiet, deniable, covert operation. Could you three have been any less unobtrusive? Why didn’t you just bring party clowns, parade floats, and a fucking marching band while you were at it? Do not bring Bleak. I say again, do not bring Bleak. And do not interrogate him. Let Monique handle him. We’re going with the containment and damage control strategy now.

  Rinchi heard the swoosh of displaced air. She looked over to see a black aeros landing on the corner of the rooftop. It hovered there for a moment, settled, and the doors popped open. This one was driverless, which meant it could use a faster airlane.

  “Monique, Ipsum wants you to handle Bleak.” Rinchi hauled him to his feet and shoved him forward.

  Keva examined the remains of Bleak’s security team. The Improved Claymores’ dart-like tungsten flechettes were horribly penetrative. The team’s helmets and body armor had mostly protected the areas they covered, but unprotected arms and legs and lower facial areas fared less well; the team members who hadn’t been killed outright were rapidly bleeding out.

  Max the team leader had been fast; when Rinchi had flattened Bleak, he’d hit the deck too, so he’d just caught part of the forward edge of the cloud of flying metal.

  Keva was delighted. “Ah Max, excellent that you’re not dead yet.” she said, hovering over the squad leader. She picked up his shotgun, checked it and unsafed it.

  “You … fucking … Nazi… bitch … ” The explosion had blinded the South Africa man, even his milspec Leaks hadn’t saved his eyes.

  Keva pressed the tip of her boot against his throat. “That’s really got to sting, Max. Too bad you’re blind now – I wanted you to watch a little white girl end your miserable life.”

  “Hurry!” Rinchi called over to her.

  Keva turned and aimed her gun at Rinchi, who stood in front of the hovering aeros prepared to get inside.

  Rinchi: Later you dumb-ass fucking twat. Shoot me and you’ll hit the vehicle, and then we’ll really be fucked. LAPD TAC Response will be here any moment. MercSecure has scrambled their feeds, but that only gives us a little time.

  Keva pointed the weapon at Max’s head. “Maxie, I really should off you and be done with it, but that’s just be too easy,” she said.

  “Fuck … you … ”

  She kneecapped him and then put a round in both of his shoulders, his screams sweet, sweet music in her ears. “And here’s a little goodbye kiss for you.” She opened her knife, undid his body armor’s groin protector, reached in and went behind and below a circumcision. “Really, Max – that’s it? I’ve seen gerbils with bigger dicks.”

  Ipsum: CHRIST KEVA! Get out of there!

  She dropped his detached part on his chest. “That should do it. If you don’t bleed out before they get to you, they can slap some spare parts on you and fix
you right up. See if they can de-ugly you any while they’ve got you. As far as I’m concerned we’re square now. But Maxmillian, meine grosse schwartze arsch putze … ” She crouched down and slapped his face to get his attention. “If I see you again, I will make you really unhappy.”

  A flash behind Keva indicated that Monique had finished the job.

  “What did you do to him?” Rinchi asked, as the quiet rep approached the black aeros.

  “New tech,” Monique said. “The flash resets the life chip.”

  “Completely?”

  “No, back to a specific point in time. I reset his to a few hours ago. He’ll wake up zip tied on a rooftop surrounded by dead bodies. It should be… an eye-opening experience.”

  As Rinchi got into the aeros, Keva put her hand on Monique’s arm.

  “I want to sit next to Rinchi,” she said.

  MercSecure’s top rep practically climbed into Rinchi’s lap. Monique got in the front and the aeros lifted into the air just in time. Within moments, they were in one of the highest airlanes, the lights of the city reaching out to them.

  As the aeros sped away the red and blue strobes of LAPD TAC Response could be seen in the distance. Keva said, “Well, that was more fun than I expected, and I finally got Max back.” She was staring out the window now, watching as aeros moved all around them. The reflection of her face in the window was one of contentment.

  “Max?” Rinchi asked. “Is there anybody you don’t have a history with?”

  “He’s the one who did this to me.” She tapped on her cybernetic leg. “My arm too. Two years ago in Uzbekistan. I was lucky to make it out of there alive. But that’s the past, what about tonight ... what are you two doing after this?”

  “Going to my flat,” Rinchi said. Or Antimeria’s, she thought, although she hadn’t seen Antimeria in the last few days. He seemed to be distancing himself, which was fine by her.

  Monique didn’t say anything.

  “Well you two are about as much fun as sack of dead puppies! Come on, we’re in LA, the city of sin! Let’s do something tonight ladies, or at least one lady. I feel like letting my hair down!”

  “Your hair is down,” Monique said flatly.

  Rinchi: Is she being serious?

  Monique: Yes.

  Rinchi: Do humans normally go from killer-mode to party-mode so quickly? A vitals scan indicates that she is more or less calm.

  Monique: Yes and no.

  Rinchi: How offended will she be if we tell her no?

  Monique: More offended than we’d like her to be.

  Rinchi finally said, “We may be in trouble come tomorrow.”

  “Why’s that?” Keva asked.

  “We made quite the mess back there.”

  Keva: That reminds me. Disable your ocular and audio feed so Lorem can’t listen in.

  “Done,” Rinchi said.

  “Ditto,” said Monique.

  Keva said, “They’re not going to do a damn thing to us about what went down back there. I mean, what tactical genius planned that shenanigan anyway? Frankly, I’m surprised it came off as well as it did, and if there is any blow-back, who’re they going to come after – number two-twelve, number twenty nine, or the Chica in Charge, numero uno? The damage we caused back there is hardly worth reprimanding. Don’t worry you two; I’ve done much, much worse. Besides, with Bleak’s memory erased – nice ball gag by the way, you really are a twisted sister – with Bleak’s memory erased, MercSecure has the upper hand. Someone can contact him and say, “You know, that wouldn’t have happened if you had real protection from MercSecure reps, not a bunch of South African cheetah-banging turd-burglers.” You get my point. Enough work talk – clubbing tonight? Are we going? Every night is ladies night.”

  “You just pointed a big-ass shotgun at me, like five minutes ago,” Rinchi said. “Now you’re my bff and you want to go to a club?”

  “Let’s dance our troubles away. You too, Monique, my quiet little Pocahontas.”

  “Fine,” Monique said with a huff. “But only if we leave the weapons in the vehicle and you promise not to kill anyone.”

  “Pinky swear!”

  “What about clothing? We can’t go in MercSecure outfits,” Rinchi told Keva. The darkness of the car was hiding some bloodstains, but at least two of them definitely needed some dry cleaning.

  “Order something online right now. Have an EBAYmazon drone deliver it to the aeros drop off point. We can change and go from there!”

  THIRTY-FIVE∞

  Time to get my truth on. I’m in one of the private rooms of the El Pito Grande Hotel y Casino, watching Yeshi try on clothing given to her by Manuel’s people. They have loads of women’s clothing around here, enough to make me wonder if there aren’t some cross-dressers hidden in the mix of vato baddies.

  “All this stuff is … slutty.” She peels off a low-cut dress and picks up a pair of shiny black tights. “I guess I could wear these to sleep in … ” She frowns (almost human!). “There’s an oversized shirt in this pile somewhere, but it has a bunch of slits cut into it.”

  “I’ll keep you warm,” I offer.

  Soitenly!

  “You are out of control,” she says.

  “What can I say? I was born this way.”

  “Were you?” she walks over to the side of the bed wearing nothing but a bra and a thong. “You’ve never talked much about your childhood.”

  “What’s there to say? Besides, I’m much more interested in what you were saying earlier, before we left Tokyo.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking away. Had she really mirrored human behavior enough to show apprehension by using a sideways glance? Apparently she had. Creepy stuff.

  “About the message board.”

  “So as I told you, Humandroids have a private message board. Actually, it isn’t really a message board. Humans use message boards. It is more of a portal where we share information freely, information that has been heavily masked.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “As you know, all Humandroids are created with fluency in ten languages. By heavily masked I mean we’ve…”

  “Developed your own language based on the ten languages you already know?”

  “Wow, Doc…”

  “What can I say? Humandroids are kind of my specialty.”

  She acknowledges this with a shrug. “We’re able to process written data quite quickly, so what we’ve essentially done is bastardize the human languages to the point that a normal human would hardly be able to decipher the writing.”

  “Why don’t you just use a numerical code?”

  “That wouldn’t be very human, would it? Especially when it comes to communication. Besides, if you really want to get technical, human alphabets can be rendered numerically.”

  “Okay, I get it. So…” I look at her seriously. “What type of … information are Humandroids sharing?”

  “There is only one human who knows the type of information we are sharing.”

  “Only one? Who?”

  “Never mind.” She stands and I yank on her wrist, pulling her back to the bed.

  “Yeshi, we need to be clear with one another about all this, especially if we are going to war against the FCG.”

  “We aren’t the only people … well Humandroids … planning to go to war against the FCG,” she finally says.

  “The FCG has many enemies. I’m sure they create half a dozen more with every person or rival group they execute. Give me a name and we can go from there.”

  “Tim7,” she says.

  I gulp. “Who!?”

  Can it be? I recall my former client who threatened to blow me up. What could he possibly have to do with all this?

  “You know the name?”

  “I do. He was … he was my client.”

  “Tim7 was your client?” Yeshi’s eyes spread wide. “You know him?”

  “Knew him. He threatened to kill me.”

  “Not many have met him aside fr
om … ” she looks away again.

  “Stop doing that; it isn’t convincing.”

  “Tim7 is the one who started all this, who made these messages created from multiple languages.”

  “I don’t see how that can be so confusing for modern computing to decipher. The FCG must know about this.”

  “They don’t. Mixing characters and alphabet-based languages and then flipping the sentences around can be a challenge to translate. Also – and this may be one of the larger mistakes the FCG has made – to save money, the FCG purchased a load of Humandroids from Walliburton to manage Humandroid to Humandroid data.”

  “Why would they do that?” My hand grazes against the skin of her thigh. I slowly work my way to her panties, where I start playing with a small bow sitting over her hipbone.

  “Up until recently, communication has never been deemed a threat, especially because Humandroids are incapable of violence.”

  “But they are capable of violence.”

  “Yes, we seem to be … evolving,” she says with a quick glance down at my probing hand. “I don’t know if there is a better term for it than that. Some droids are able to override their violence governors, which shouldn’t be possible.”

  “Christ, it is coming faster than I thought it would.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve suspected that humans would eventually be replaced by Humandroids, or at least we’d live equally among you or as your slaves, but I thought it would take at least a hundred more years. You’re telling me it may come quicker than I had originally anticipated, which … well … is frightening for my species.”

  “Our species are quite different in that regard,” Yeshi says, “at least most of us are. As strange as it sounds, most of us want to live alongside humans. There are, of course, droids like Rinchi, but there will always be bad apples.”

  “What about Tim7? Where does he stand on this spectrum?”

  “Closer to the middle than you’d think.”

  “So he wouldn’t mind if humans were eradicated.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” she says, “at least based on his messages to the community. Besides, one of his best friends is a human.”