Deprecated

by Michael Karr

  Placing her hands on the small of her back, she stretched, yawning. She glanced around her office. The show of authority would have been more effective with a larger office. This one felt more like a prison cell. In truth, it was only slightly smaller than her previous office. This new one had as much light as an underground tunnel. It smelled only nominally better. When she first moved in, the place smelled as if a two-week-old fish were tucked away in one of the desk drawers. Pike must have enjoyed eating codfish in the office. A few hours of scrubbing had helped lessen the odor’s potency.

  Speaking of fish, she couldn’t remember when she last ate. Perhaps she should…

  A knock sounded at her door.

  With her PNU, she scanned who it was before the door opened. The profile image of a red-haired officer flashed before her. Complete with name, rank, and other pertinent data. Karl Meister, Sub Agent Second Class. Age nineteen. He looked more like fifteen.

  Why was a Sub Agent knocking on her door? Gyles must be on his break. Her aide did his best to shield her from…well, everything that happened at Regulation. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Damon Gyles thought the job of Chief of Regulation should have gone to him. Not an outsider like herself, with no experience running such an operation. Aside from doing the actual investigation work, Carmine found herself spending considerable effort asserting her leadership.

  Gyles needed the most reminders. More than once, she’d threatened to report him to the CA. An empty promise. And he likely knew it. If she took her grievances to Mr. Steele it would only give credence to Gyle’s unspoken claim: that she couldn’t handle this job. Once she had thoroughly proven him wrong, then she’d have him demoted. She smiled at the thought.

  At least one message—that she preferred face to face contact, rather than PNU communication—was getting across to some people. To this Karl Meister, anyway. It wasn’t that she didn’t value the convenience of PNU communication. She used it frequently. But if a thirty-second walk could put the real, tangible person in front of her, to her it was worth the minuscule effort.

  She straightened her jacket and called for Meister to come in.

  Meister’s profile picture failed to do justice to the quantity of freckles on his face. Nor did it quite capture the shocking brightness of his hair. Nor the way he fought against his natural inclination to avert his eyes from her as he entered her office.

  “What is it Meister?” she asked, keeping her tone authoritative, but not so harsh that the boy wet his pants. All her actions needed to tell those beneath her that her time mattered.

  Meister’s gaze momentarily dropped to the floor. But when he spoke, his voice was relatively solid.

  “A tip’s just come in, Chief,” he said. “I thought you’d want to hear it yourself.”

  Chief. The title still sounded odd to her. Despite that, she took pride in it. Some of her annoyance at Meister softened.

  “We’ve received countless tips,” she replied. “What makes this one special?”

  It was true. Since soliciting the general public for information on any of the recent homicides they’d received a deluge of tips. Thus far, all of them worthless. Every Unenhanced in the city wanted to help. It was easy to understand the reason. Put a gun to a man’s head and ask him for information, and he’ll give it to you. Even if he doesn’t have it, just to save his skin. Well, the reduced rations and accelerated Deprecation timetable had put a gun to the head of everyone in the slums.

  “There’s a girl here, from the slums,” Meister said.

  What else?

  “She claims she saw who shot Commander Pike, Chief.”

  “Agent Meister,” Carmine said, fighting to keep her tone from betraying the full extent of her annoyance. “This would not be the first time we’ve had eye-witness claims. We’ve had people claim their own neighbors were the culprits. What’s so convincing about this girl’s story?”

  Meister shifted uncomfortably. “Two reasons, Chief. First, I can tell she doesn’t want to be here.”

  A questionably sound reason.

  “Second, she knows that Pike was shot in the head.”

  Carmine studied the junior officer for a moment, thinking. That last reason might hold its own weight. The general public did not have access to autopsy records. From the reports of that night, Regulation arrived on the scene within minutes of the killing. Before that time, a citizen of the slums could have inspected the body, then disappeared. She thought it unlikely. From what she understood of the Unenhanced, they locked their doors, closed their windows, and pretended nothing amiss was going on outside.

  Should she personally interrogate the girl? Undoubtedly, it would prove an utter waste of precious time. Unfortunately, her curiosity was now piqued. Curse this junior officer. Later. She’d find a way to reprimand him later.

  “Very well,” she said. “Send the girl in.”

  A moment later a waifish figure with blonde hair as short as a young boy’s stepped into her office. The girl bowed her head. One look at the girl and Carmine knew she’d made the wrong choice. Had Meister actually gotten this little doll to talk? Perhaps Meister had imagined it while admiring her pretty face.

  “Have a seat,” she said, pouring some warmth into her tone. One harsh word and the girl might crumble to bits. The girl’s red eyes told her she’d been crying already. What have I gotten myself into?

  The girl took a seat in the chair opposite from Carmine’s desk. The metal springs in it squeaked in protest. Carmine made a note with her PNU to have the chair oiled. Taking her own seat behind the desk, Carmine cracked a smiled at the girl.

  “My name is Carmine O’Connor, Chief of Regulation,” she said. “I realize this must be difficult for you. Understand though that the Alliance highly values your help. Any legitimate information you can provide us will benefit all members of the Alliance. Including yourself.”

  A sniffle escaped the girl’s nose, which she wiped with the back of her hand.

  “I’m Lexi. Lexi Bransen,” she said. This information Carmine already knew from the report Meister had transmitted a moment before.

  “Can you tell me why you came to us, Lexi?”

  “My dad,” she said, voice quivering like Desolation’s tremors. “He made me come.”

  Please, do not start bawling like a newborn in my office.

  “My agent tells me you saw who shot and killed Commander Michael Pike,” Carmine said. “Tell me where you were.”

  Again, the girl sniffed. “I was on the back of his cycle.”

  “What!” Carmine couldn’t help but gape at the girl. Realizing how unseemly that was, she closed her mouth and rocked back in her chair. Reactions like that would only encourage the girl if she were lying. “I’m sorry. You say you were on the back of Pike’s cycle? How did that come about?”

  “He kidnapped me…from my room.”

  Carmine compressed her lips. Yes, a believable story. The atrocities of the Enhanced males—mostly adolescents—were well known to her. And often such crimes went unpunished. If this were true, then Carmine genuinely felt sorry for the girl. Michael Pike, though? A Regulation Squadron Commander?

  “There were two others with him,” Lexi went on.

  Two others? Now that was news. The Regulators had found two Enhanced males, both shot in the head. This was the first she’d heard of a third. Unfortunately, those bullet holes in their brains had damaged their PNUs sufficiently as to make the memory extraction impossible. Otherwise, they would have already known about Lexi, and been able to corroborate her story.

  A third kidnapper? If there had been another there who’d escaped, it would make sense that he wouldn’t come forward with information. Given the nature of their little escapade into the slums…well, best just to keep quiet.

  “What happened then?” Carmine asked, now honestly wanting to hear the rest. “I know this is hard. You’re doing very well.”

  Though still visibly upset, Lexi continued with her account. “The three of them
came into my bedroom while I was asleep. I woke up with a gag around my mouth, and hands grabbing me, pulling me. I tried to break free, but they were too strong. One of them whispered in my ear to stop squirming or they’d kill my parents.

  “They carried me through the window and put me on the back of a cycle. A gun fired next. I didn’t see who fired or who got hit. The cycle I was on zoomed us down the street. Then I think someone was chasing us. The one driving the cycle, he started pointing his gun and shooting at whoever it was.

  “What happened next is all a little blurred. I was just so scared.”

  Carmine leaned forward, and placed her clasped hands on her desk. “Just do the best you can.”

  The girl nodded. “Next thing I remember, we were stopping abruptly. Something blocked the road.”

  Yes, that piece of the story checked out, too.

  “Then, there was a lot of gunfire. I felt like it was coming from everywhere. I didn’t see who was shooting. Suddenly, it stopped, and someone—a boy I knew—was helping me up from the street telling me I was safe now.”

  A few tears streamed down the girl’s cheek. “They were just trying to help me,” she sobbed. “Please, you can’t do anything to them. They saved me.”

  “They?”

  Lexi nodded. “There was a girl, too. She took me back to my apartment.”

  “Lexi, listen to me,” Carmine said, her voice edged with urgency. “All I need from you are their names—this boy and girl who saved you. We just want to ask them a few questions.”

  “Please! You can’t get them in trouble. I saw what happened to Boney.”

  Well done Chief Pike. Pinning the murder of his son on some random, innocent man wasn’t such a brilliant tactic after all. Now she would have to use more persuasive methods to get this girl to divulge any names.

  “Listen, Lexi,” Carmine said. “I know times must be tough for you and your family right now.” She leaned in closer. “If you help us, I’ll see that your family’s rations are…supplemented. You won’t go hungry. I can promise you that.”

  It was a generous offer. There wasn’t exactly food to spare. Hopefully, it would pay off.

  From the expression on the girl’s face, Carmine could tell she was waging an internal battle with herself. She felt confident the girl would give in. The fact that she was at Regulation headquarters providing a major tip against her will was a testament to her father’s control over the girl.

  “I don’t know the girl’s name,” she said, at last. “I’ve seen her before, though. The boy…his name is Preston. Hyde is his last name, I think.”

  In shame, the girl bowed her head. Carmine couldn’t help but feel pity for the girl. Michael Pike and his accomplices deserved to die, if Lexi’s story was true. And this Preston Hyde might be a hero. On the other hand, he might also be a murderous criminal. The Alliance would view him as nothing less than a dangerous vigilante. Either way, she would find out.

  Using her PNU, she composed a quick message and sent it to one of the squadron commanders. “Report to me immediately. I have someone I want you to bring in.”

  TWENTY

  Serghei had been droning on for a good half-hour, throwing out technical terms and acronyms which sounded like gibberish to Rylee. He was attempting to explain his plan for infiltrating Regulation Headquarters. Rylee still had no idea what the plan actually was. Finally, Preston cut him off.

  “So, what does all this have to do with me going to Regulation headquarters?” he asked.

  “Patience, Iago,” Serghei said, almost certainly referencing another film. “I was just getting to that. Ry,” he added, turning to her. “On a scale of one to ten, how confident are you that you could temporarily shut off the main power to Regulation headquarters?”

  “Uh, if I knew where the building’s electrical closet was and could get to it, then a ten. No doubts.”

  “Good,” Serghei replied. “Then all we have to do is research where the electrical closet should be, and we’re all set.”

  Preston furrowed his brows, sucking on his lip. “I’m not quite following you, Serg. I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell the whole thing out for us, minus the first bit about servers and certificates.”

  “There are still a few details we must iron out,” Serghei said. “But the basic idea is this: You and Ry go to Regulation headquarters on Saturday under the pretense that you have a tip for them. Ry will claim to be there as a tagalong. While Preston’s interrogated, Ry will ask to use the restroom. From the restroom, she’ll climb up into the ceiling through a vent shaft. It’s a classic method from the all the action films. From the ventilation system, she’ll navigate to the electrical closet, cut off the power, then activate this little guy.”

  Walking over to his bench, Serghei retrieved a small metal box. Returning, he held it out for them to see. Rylee didn’t know what she was looking at, other than a metallic device that fit in Serghei’s palm. His expression, though, indicated that they should be impressed.

  “Looks nice, Serg,” Preston said. “What is it?”

  Serghei raised his eyebrow. “Our very own rogue server. It’s something I’ve been fiddling with for a while. Putting together spare parts from the salvage runs.”

  “Aside from the fact that I have no idea what that is, when do you have time to do all of this stuff? Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “Two hours a day, sometimes three,” Serghei replied proudly. “It all depends on where the salvage run takes us.”

  “So, you only sleep in the back of the truck, with the rest of the salvagers?”

  “It’s a little bumpy, but it gets the job done. All the others know that Grant stays in my coat. So, none of them try to steal my contraband. Otherwise, Grant will gnaw off their fingers.”

  “Can we get back to the plan?” Rylee said, really not wanting to hear more about Serghei’s sleeping habits. Or any of his habits, for that matter. “So, it’s a rogue server. What do we do with it?”

  Brightening at the mention of the device in his hand, Serghei started back in enthusiastically. “You,” he said, pointing to her, “just turn it on. Here.” He pointed to a small switch on the side of the device. “Once turned on, you must restore power to the building. That is all.”

  Serghei stopped and looked at them expectantly, as if that were the end of his plan.

  “What do we do after that?” Preston asked.

  “You get out of the building,” Serghei shrugged. “However you can.”

  “And the…rogue server?”

  “Right. Ry will leave it there—hidden somewhere inconspicuous. If I’m not mistaken, once the power is shut off to the building, Regulation’s local servers will also go down. I’d be highly surprised if they had backup generators just to keep their servers running. The main Alliance servers are in the basement of Steele Tower. Those likely have backup power. But this is beside the point. Once the power comes back on, the Regulator’s PNUs will seek to re-establish the lost connection to those servers. If we’re lucky, a few of them will attempt to connect to our rogue server, thinking it a legitimate one. When that happens, it will attempt to exploit the vulnerabilities I mentioned earlier.”

  “If we’re lucky?” Rylee said. “You mean you’re not sure that thing will work?”

  “Not at all. Without reliable data about their system, it’s impossible for us to know how best to hack into it. I know I love my films, but those old movies showing hackers breaking into some top-secret server…they make it look like all the hacker has to do is type fast and they’ll get in. Like they had magic keyboards or something. It’s not like that. It’s far, far more complicated. First you must discover a vulnerability in the system—however small. Non-trivial. Then you must figure out a way to exploit that vulnerability. Also, non-trivial.”

  “Sounds like a really solid plan,” Feng said. “We’re all as good as Deprecated.”

  “What’s the harm if it doesn’t work?” Serghei asked. “We’re no worse off than we ar
e today. And all that you two have to do is get this little guy into Regulation headquarters.”

  Preston’s eyes met Rylee’s. He wanted her confirmation before agreeing to the plan. There was a fair amount of risk involved. Could she infiltrate Regulation headquarters, find the electrical closet, and shut off the power? All without getting caught? That she didn’t know. But if it meant saving her grandfather, she would try it. She only wished Serghei’s part of the plan were more certain.

  “I want to try,” she said softly. “I’ve got to try something. I’ll go in alone if I have to.”

  Rubbing his stubbled chin, Preston studied the contraption in Serghei’s hand. “What about that thing?” he said. “We don’t have to get it out? It wouldn’t be traceable back to us?”

  “Regretfully,” Serghei replied, frowning, “the server stays. Should it be found, I’ve taken precautions to ensure it won’t lead anyone back to us.”

  “Okay,” Preston said. “Let’s move forward with this plan. There’s still some details we’ll need to work out. But we have a few days to do it. We can do this.”

  Conviction filled his voice when he said those words. We can do this. Whether real or forced, Rylee didn’t care. Just having a plan, having her amazing friends made her believe it was true. For the first time since she heard the new mandate to cut rations and increase Deprecation, she felt hope. A faint glimmer of hope. That was enough for her.

  Wanting to be home when her grandfather returned, Rylee decided to leave. “I’ve got to go,” she said. Preston looked at her. It was evident in his expression that he wanted her to stay. “My grandfather…” she said, hoping everyone would fill-in an excuse in their own minds. But Serghei was already talking about watching a movie. And Feng, she was sure, didn’t care. Preston reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Promise.” Preston frowned slightly, but didn’t protest.