by V Guy
He smirked. “Never have; never will.”
She activated her cloak and exited the craft. After a few moments of assembling her gear, she was ready. Emergency rope secured her to the Rumbler, and she lowered herself past the edge of the building. Gravity nullifying shoes lightened her touch on the building’s exterior. She arrived at the target’s office undetected; the rope was cloak capable, and only a thin sliver of distortion was visible.
Her target window had weather and tamper sensors; she looped the tamper data and froze the weather return. An electronic lock-pick was used to gain entry. She cleared the ledge, secured the window, and reset the sensors. I’m in. Your turn.
Perry Mann, the object of their interest, sat at the center of a long table. Meetings like this occurred three times a week, and as much as they concerned him, they also bored him. As the director of multiple projects, time-critical calls were often received to pull him away from the tedium, but no such calls had arrived yet. Another more pressing matter became priority—coffee had started his afternoon; the reckoning was now upon him. Normally such an inconvenience could be endured. Today was quite another matter.
He squirmed as he fought the pangs of increasing urgency, then triggered an emergency exit through his comm. Shortly thereafter, his administrative assistant delivered a message about a call.
“Proceed,” said Mann, motioning. “I should address this.”
After a slightly less than graceful rise and an overly hasty exit, he hurried down the hallway to the nearest restroom and rushed to the urinal. His artificially stimulated, urgent need faded before he could relieve himself, and the nerves commanding his muscles told him to freeze. The restroom door locked.
A slight breeze of passing signified an unseen presence, and the pressure on Mann’s head meant a skull interface. He became distraught. The presence of another mind within his was terrifying, and his body responded accordingly, involuntarily relieving the urine to his clothing.
His mind yielded information equally unintentionally, and he squirmed for an entirely different reason. The mental pressure subsided. A coolness in his extremities that advanced to his core, Mann’s nerveless legs released him to the floor, his arms slackened, and he felt a strange transition start within him. His heart stopped. Five missing beats later, his mind slipped away.
Helen observed the device in her hands to confirm her new captive. She retrieved the interface, restored the pack to her shoulders, and exited unseen. Several minutes later, she climbed through the office window. After four minutes of climb, she boarded the Rumbler. The hovercraft immediately rose into the air.
“He seemed like a decent guy.”
Malik glanced at her. “He was responsible for a squad sent to kidnap Serena. I saw the motivation for the deed and the command to execute within his mind. I will soon discover the depth of his ‘decency.’”
“How long will we hold him?”
“Long enough to discover his police contacts or hackers that provided the information, and his other partners in crime. I don’t need his money.”
She frowned. “Like yesterday. It seems extraordinarily unfair.”
His expression shifted to match hers. “Is sending five people to kidnap a supposedly unarmed woman ‘fair’? Again, I saw his intentions…they were decidedly otherwise.”
“Your actions will impact people around them.”
Malik scowled. “My actions would not have happened without his provocation.”
Helen was pensive as the Rumbler rose.
“We’re on approach,” he said, taking the controls.
Nothing was visible or evident on the instruments, and only the sudden plunging through a shimmer into darkness evidenced their arrival. Moments later, the lights arose, revealing their presence within Pathfinder.
“That’s hugely disconcerting,” said Helen, shaking her head to clear her nausea. “It’s like chancing fate. I’m still not acclimated.”
“Only because you cannot see. I was guiding us.”
She shot him a pained expression, indication of other distress.
He nodded. “I need time to shut down the Rumbler.”
This was another signal for communication, and Helen lay above to her bunk. She closed her eyes, set an interface upon her head, and connected to local Xist.
***
Malik was waiting when she arrived in the mind room. “You seem troubled.”
Her visage was heavily laced with sarcasm. “You got that from reading my mind?”
“You’re obvious. It wasn’t necessary.”
She paced the edges of the circular chamber. “I’m not handling this well.”
“The work or the adjustment?”
“You can’t just see it?”
He shrugged. “One of many things could be the cause, and I’d rather you told me rather than my searching. I can look if you wish?”
Helen shook her head. “I lack the time to adjust or consider my circumstances. The schedule is grueling, and the only available moments are used in recovery. We’re still working implant removal, and your surgery is Saturday. It’s wearing me out.”
Malik paused, considering her burdens. “Everyone is occupied. This is the most intense portion of the project.”
She lowered her eyes and sighed. “Looking for Selena, protecting Serena, rehabilitating slaves, and doing missions for Kroes. It’s all-time consuming and mentally draining.”
“I’m earning everyone’s freedom,” said Malik, softening his tone. “You and one of the commandos are clear.”
“That’s assuming Kroes keeps her word.”
Malik paused. “I believe she will.”
She considered his evaluation. “Is the conditioning effective?”
“Yes,” he replied, importing three sets of conditioning instructions. “Kroes never participated in games but has faithfully visited me within Xist to observe, boast, or admire. She enjoys it.”
He set one of the columns of data aside and spaced the information. “She has consistently chosen to watch particular memories that give her pleasure, and has almost completely stopped watching items she’s convinced will be unpleasant. Those are the tests I can confirm.”
“And the ones you can’t?”
“I want Kroes to honor her deals, which requires her to have an unconditional respect for others. As an opportunist with power, she generally holds powerless people in the lowest regard. Secondly, I need her to consider me worthy of the aforementioned respect. If she doesn’t, then no deal made to preserve everyone’s health will be honored.”
Helen frowned. “She has a goal and you’re the tool. How can you change that?”
“Kroes came to the Xist nations because she enjoys the idea of crushing an opponent. I’m doing that, and a smidgen of admiration has germinated within her. That admiration must grow, and only by letting it blossom can I make her open to respecting me.”
“You changed a man’s mind yesterday.”
Malik nodded. “He was weak. Kroes is strong and trained, much like Norris. Impacting her motivations without triggering a response is tricky.”
“Then it’s a long haul?”
He shrugged apologetically. “I’ve done it once.”
“Let’s get this modified and downloaded. I’m tired and need a touch.”
“You’ll get one.” Malik, triggered, captured, and placed her last week’s fabricated observations before him.
Helen watched him systematically inserted conditioning triggers into the data stack. “How are you managing it?”
He pondered the question while he worked. “I have a lot on my mind. It helps.”
“Preoccupation isn’t a solution.”
“But it does offer distance from the issues. Working a puzzle also helps.”
“Even an impossible puzzle?”
Malik considered the statement. “Especially an impossible puzzle.”
She circled the column of information supposedly gathered through her eyes, ears, and nose
. “Will this week complicate issues?”
“Kroes already knows enough. Two more deaths should be inconsequential.”
“How about giving her a fear of something? If her attitudes are as entrenched as you say, something more might be needed. What if we motivate her not with just a carrot, but also prod her with a stick?”
“That’s complicated,” he replied. “The idea is worth entertaining, but I’d need to be careful. Significant fears can cause her to overcompensate, potentially to our disfavor. Still, smaller fears could be entertaining. Centipedes? Spiders? Clowns?”
Helen smiled. “How about leaving this life without a legacy?”
Malik stopped his work. “That’s significant. What are you suggesting?”
“Kroes lives in the shadows, working publicly in law enforcement for hidden and selfish goals. What if she’s fed the fear of inconsequence? What if she’s targeted with the worry that nothing noteworthy will be attributed to her? She should seek some method of penance through doing good, and it should start with pleasure in convictions, displeasure from lost cases, reward from integrity, and punishment for duplicity. A passion for true justice must be gained. The joy would only come if she works within the framework of law, because she would understand that cases could be overthrown if impropriety was uncovered.”
“That could backfire.”
“Not necessarily. Justice is about balance between the crime and the punishment. All accounts are supposed to finish even. It’s the same as her agreements with you—the balance is supposed to end at zero.”
Malik paused. “If Kroes pursues justice passionately and fairly, she might overcome the corruption within her organization. She would need someone outside the CSA who could work quietly and invisibly to assist her.”
Helen crossed her arms as she pondered the idea. “It wouldn’t be simple programming.”
“Oh, no,” he said, his pleasure impacting the walls of the chamber. Impressions of his calculations created crisscrossing ripples. “It would be a puzzle, layered one element at a time. We present the problem and the solution, and she claims both as her own.”
She considered the ideas. “We’d still need to measure effectiveness. Are spiders still an option?”
“Absolutely, along with any other phobias.” He finished inserting the conditioning into her sensory download. “Are you ready for a boost?”
Helen frowned as she viewed the construction. “I’m always tired, thus I’m always ready. Kroes must fear. Kroes must be unfulfilled. I need that woman to value the lives of the people she’s supposed to protect.”
“Fearful, powerful people are dangerous. They act without thinking.”
“You’re dangerous,” said Helen, making a crooked smile. Malik’s touch caused her to freeze, much like an addict getting a fix. She paused and straightened after he finished, relief evident in her mental imprint. “That truly never gets old. When does this end? When do we finally gain freedom?”
Malik transitioned the data to a delivery module, the mind chamber reflecting his determination. “As soon as you wish. Offering you new life lends my existence meaning; preserving my crew, my friends, and the commandos gives it purpose; changing the mind of an incredibly dangerous, connected woman presents me a passion. This could be my last adventure, but I insist upon living it.”
26: Valuables
Day 727: Evaline, Pathfinder
“I’m guessing we’ll have another week like the last one,” said James in a despondent monotone. “Working all day, working all night, always working.”
The man had traversed a hatch connecting maintenance to the port fuel tank after midnight Monday morning. The space was forty-five meters in length, five meters in height, and eight meters in breadth, but only a small portion was used for the ship’s fuel storage. The remaining area was crisscrossed by support frames, power conduits, and instrumentation linkages. James shone his wrist-mounted lantern aft. “Signal- and energy-dampening insulation installed on the external shell, signal connections set strategically about the area, and an extendable frame that can be lowered through lengthwise, retractable doors. When we stole that gear from the pirates, you had something other than trade in mind, didn’t you?”
“It was a long-term plan for self-defense,” replied Malik, easing through the narrow hatch. “Not much use for it now, but there’s plenty of space for expanded sensor modules.”
James shined his light toward the forward taper of the tank. “The equations suggest that the more integrated modules we add, the better the available detail and coverage. We’ll need additional supplies to construct the minimum four modules, but to fill two entire tanks? That means numerous trips to Catricel. Slave work on the weekdays, Fate surgery and data acquisition occupy the weekends, special projects for Kroes fit where they can, and protecting Serena kills the nights. When am I supposed to build this equipment for finding Salient, and where would we find the time?”
Malik examined the interior of the tank as he pondered the question. “We’re going to Catricel this week to examine the palace and will acquire some spare material. Kroes delivered another mission request yesterday, as a successor to the previous one, and Liola transmitted two more names for investigation.”
Liola’s name caused James to turn, worry joining his fatigue. “How’d they discover them? Is she okay?”
“One man was following Serena,” replied Malik, nodding. “A second group had watched her house and entered after she left to go to the market. They each got rude surprises.”
“And Liola?”
“She prefers that life to this.” Malik measured the area with his eyes. “We’ll need climate control to preserve the equipment. Cooling shrouds, recirculation pumps, coolant storage, diagnostic equipment, separate command modules, signal dampeners, isolation grids for the individual units, and a small, well-shielded breach module. Mass adjusters should probably be avoided, because they might interfere with the sensors. We are, after all, looking for gravitational signatures through the substrate.”
“She likes it better than this?” asked James. His expression fell. “I suppose I needed the distraction. Every woman stayed but her.”
“Liola likes you considerably.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, I like her; good for me. The one woman who returns my affections moves away, while an entire shipload of them who don’t, stay.”
Malik paused. “Evelyn likes you.”
“Because Evan left. She didn’t like me beforehand. It didn’t take much of me seeing her ‘like’ Evan to break me.” He pondered the empty space around him and sighed. “How many units will we install?”
“Four per tank, but we’ll build infrastructure and programming for forty, both sides.”
He made a snort. “Eighty total; that’s a lot of distraction.”
Malik released a sympathetic sigh and shrugged. “You could join her. Besides you being more useful here, she believed you’d be in too much danger around her.”
“Are you kidding? Too much danger? Doesn’t she know whose ship I’m on?”
“You’d be bored,” replied Malik, chuckling. “You won’t be bored here, I promise.”
James examined the plans on his personal device and frowned, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “You can relieve a tired mind and worn body, but you cannot fill an empty heart. Perhaps a project this large would make me forget it. First, additional interior shielding and structural supports need constructing, then utilities need installing. Then rerouted internal power connections, customized support racks, and instrument and controls must be assembled. When we’re done, you’ll be able to see the future.”
Malik’s mind turned back in time to his own losses, and a little of James’s ache touched him. “Things will eventually ease. Life is time intensive and time is precious. We do what we can, while we can.”
“Then this craziness will end?”
Malik’s mind flipped from his past to the future, his visage sobering and his volume lowering.
“Absolutely.”
***
The next night found Malik and Helen in the Rumbler again, rising into a rainy sky and entering a northeast course. The agent was largely silent, the residue of her brief evening’s rest clinging to her mind.
Helen reread the mission details, planning and picturing the job before her. Her gaze turned to the deepening night as they crossed the equator. She scanned the controls, accessed the weather, and frowned. “They’re getting an early snowfall. That means complications.”
Malik nodded. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”
She glanced at him and scowled. “You aren’t the one going in. I don’t want to rappel down the side of an icy building.”
“You won’t; he has a covered patio.”
Helen watched the scanners. “You won’t get them all, you do know that?”
“I do. But we can get the most brazen.”
Her face twisted in disapproval. “Crooked cops are the problem.”
He shrugged. “That and, more commonly, lazy ones, but we can’t kill either variety. Whatever grace I possess with Evaline Investigative would instantly evaporate. I discover the officers’ names and submit them to their superiors for investigation.”
“But they link you to dead people.”
“I’m already linked to dead people. At the moment, they’re the right dead people.”
“And the wrong ones?”
Malik smirked. “They don’t die; they forget.”
Helen pondered a reply as she checked her pack. “I want to experience the differentiation program. I’m experiencing the same life I held before meeting you, and it’s befuddling to wonder what I should and want to be doing. I’d like to know what I would’ve chosen. Only then can I adequately approach a life after this.”
The Rumbler banked toward a well-lit neighborhood, which was being dusted with a layer of white. A heads-up display pinpointed the appropriate residence, and they made their approach.
“I’ll have you in the program the moment we return. I detect he’s here.”