MINDFRACK

by S G King

  She was wearing black leggings and a flowery T-shirt that showed off a trim and shapely figure. She only had a few iTatts on her upper arms, which surprised him considering her friend ran the shop outside.

  She held up a hand without turning. “Mark. Kath told me you were here. Give me a second, will you.”

  “Sorry to barge in, Wanda, but this is urgent,” he said while pulling his rucksack off.

  “A second …”

  Logan raised his eyes to the ceiling but kept his mouth shut. He looked around and noticed a female form sitting on a stool in the corner. She regarded him with surprise and said, “Mark Logan, how nice to see you again.”

  He ignored her, thinking it was another of Wanda’s repair jobs.

  “Mark, it’s me, Carrie …”

  He was taken aback; it had only been a few days since he last saw Carrie and she was a pile of components in a box. She looked different. Not a playmate any more, though appealing enough, with perfectly balanced features, large brown eyes and expressive lips. She had been given a Eurasian appearance, with a raven-black bob. Wanda had dressed her in the same style as she seemed to favour, leggings and a sweatshirt.

  “Carrie, you’re looking well.”

  The 6thgen hopped off the stool and approached him. “Thank you. How is Dexy? When can I see her?”

  Wanda glanced up at Logan without raising her head. “I wasn’t sure how to deal with this?” she said, pointing at an area within the 3V while flicking her eyes at Carrie.

  “I would do what you have to do, and I would do it as soon as possible. Otherwise it will create conflicts. You understand?” He looked at her pointedly before turning to Carrie and telling her, “I’m sure Wanda will tell you all about Dexy later.”

  “Thank you, Mark. I’ll wait until later today then.” She neatly pirouetted and got back onto the stool.

  “Yeah, thanks, Mark,” said Wanda. She didn’t look happy.

  “How did you get the repair done so quick? And a complete new body?”

  “I have a friend in the business who owed me big time. He keeps a stock of models, usually powered up. I did the transfer and engram load yesterday evening. We need to keep an eye, though. Make sure there are no problems.”

  Logan watched Carrie shift her eyes between them, her expression difficult to interpret.

  “There. Done.” Wanda placed a probe on the worktop, got off her own stool and turned to face him. She looked him up and down and raised her brow, critically. He was sporting his favourite cargo pants, telling a faded history of fast-food and beer, and now with added puddle-splashes. His hoody was hanging limp from the rain. Hangover, strain and stubble dressed his face.

  Her expression changed quickly from irritation to concern. Logan noticed her hair was morphing before his eyes. Electric blue was being replaced by softer violets from the roots out and the straight fall was lifting and gaining waves.

  “Something’s happened, hasn’t it,” she said.

  “That obvious, eh?”

  “You look like crap.”

  “Thanks. Look, I wouldn’t have come here, but I didn’t know where else to go. I’ve no real connection to you and I’m sure I wasn’t followed. Spent most of the day up in Pelham Park before I came here – tried to figure things out. Wanted to get here after dark. Took a round route on foot from a couple of stops back.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would you be followed? Now you’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m not sure how to explain,” said Logan, dropping onto the only chair. It was a hard-moulded type, but it felt good to take the weight off his feet. “There’s been this voice in my head. Wait, I’ll rephrase that. I’ve had this anonymous caller – well, I do know his name: Salvatore – warning me that someone was coming for me. It has something to do with GNG, Grist, someone called Emmett who might belong to the Guild ... Hell, I don’t know ...” He slapped his hands down onto his legs.

  “And?” Wanda was looking increasingly worried.

  “A polibot turned up at my apartment and it wasn’t friendly. Demolished my front door. But here’s the thing, it killed its controlling police officer. I found him dead in the patrol car. I only just got away – because Salvatore helped me by hacking into the elevator system. It fooled the polibot. Then he made this lorry take it out.” He paused. “I sound crazy, don’t I?”

  “Knowing what I know about things? No. But it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “It doesn’t make much sense to me either. What I need, Wanda, is somewhere to hold out until I can contact someone and get myself back into a precinct – without coming into contact with a polibot. I have a contact in Forensics. I can talk to her at some point – if I can establish it’s safe to do so.”

  Wanda came up closer and put her hand on his shoulder. “Look, for what it’s worth, you have my trust. If it wasn’t for you, Carrie wouldn’t be here.”

  Logan reached up and placed his hand on hers. He half expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, her expression softened, and she looked searchingly at his eyes. He felt there was a connection between them and was about to explore the moment further but didn’t get the chance.

  There was a loud crash outside in the shop, making them look toward the door, accompanied by shouting and clattering, as though furniture was being knocked over. A short scream pierced the air.

  It couldn’t be.

  Wanda made for the door, but he stopped her. His first thought was that the polibot had survived and must have tracked him, but how? Any DNA or other bioprofiles would have been washed away in the heavy rain.

  “Is there a back way out of here?” Logan whispered urgently.

  Wanda shook her head.

  Carrie was off her seat and backing away into a corner of the room.

  Another noise, a whimper.

  Wanda’s eyes widened and were fixated beyond the door. She whispered, “Kath?” Logan couldn’t help but notice her hair was moving again and turning dark brown with streaks of crimson actively running through it.

  He held a finger to his lips and opened the door a crack. “Get Carrie and be ready to run,” he whispered, and checked out the shop.

  He saw an overturned table, scattered iTatt tools, a scarf strewn across the floor towards the entrance. Any customers had fled.

  It couldn’t have been the polibot. They didn’t hide. It’d be standing in the middle of the floor, scanning the shop and assessing the situation.

  He saw movement from the left, towards Kath’s cubicle, at the front of the shop. Two figures moving. In the same instant he had a call, it was anonymous.

  “Salvatore?”

  “Mark. Do not go out into the shop. He knows you are trapped in that room and will use force if you confront him. If he finds Carrie, he will kill you and the others and take her away.”

  “Who? How –?” He looked up to the shop’s security cam. “Why didn’t you warn me earlier?”

  There was no response.

  He turned to Wanda. She mouthed, “Call the police?” Logan held up his hand and mouthed back, “Wait.

  “Salvatore, what do I do?” he whispered.

  “I’m doing something now. Wait a moment.”

  The quiet of the shop collapsed into mayhem. The main lights died. Multiple buzzing sounds and tiny, bright laser lights played over the ceiling; it was the iTatt rigs in the booths. That was the intro. The media sound system blasted into life with music, retro, heavy-metal, ear-busting loud. 3V displays near to some of the booths paged manically through iTatt designs. Something else blasted out noise that was repetitive and shrill: the shop’s burglar alarm. It’d be sounding outside on the street as well. Logan understood. Salvatore was trying to attract attention in the hope that it would scare off the intruder. Either that or distract him or her enough for them to get away.

  Logan’s peripheral vision detected a scuffle off to the left, again within the front booth, the edges of stilted movement caught in the glow of the 3Vs.


  He recognised the over-muscled whippet-like figure of Kath as she lurched into the centre of the shop. She must have broken free from something or someone. Another figure, much bigger, came after her. David and Goliath circling each other, their forms silhouetted like shadow puppets against the expansive front windows.

  “Kath’s fighting someone.”

  Wanda pulled the door from his grasp. “Kath!”

  Kath spun around, lightning fast, her leg sweeping high through the air. Her opponent moved imperceptibly, a shrug, and caught the blow effortlessly on a shoulder. She was too fast for him to catch and she skipped back towards Wanda’s workshop door and screamed at them to get out. “I’ve got this!” she added, shouting above the din. She moved back toward him and off to his left towards another booth.

  Logan caught site of the intruder’s face, or rather lack of one. He must have been wearing something, or maybe it was covered in iTatts, as it was a blur, inhuman. Logan considered he might have been a 6thgen but there was something in the way he moved that made him man, not bot.

  The figure paused in his fight with Kath.

  Logan heard Salvatore’s voice. “You must leave now. I don’t know how long I can confuse him. Pic is trying to override me again.”

  “Pic?”

  “Wait, get ready …”

  Logan watched through the crack of the door. He caught sight of the iTatt rigs reaching up from their booths and turning toward the intruder. Multiple laser lights played across his head and face; he held a hand up to shield his eyes.

  Logan turned to Wanda and said, “Now,” before opening the door fully and heading into the shop. Wanda took Carrie’s hand and followed. They ran towards the shop door.

  The intruder was quick on his feet and blocked their path. Logan noticed he was holding something. Jesus, a gun.

  Why didn’t he shoot?

  Logan knew. The intruder wanted Carrie but couldn’t figure who was who in the medley of sound, light and movement that harassed him.

  Kath came out of nowhere and struck him again. This time her boot connected with his chest, sledgehammer hard. Logan heard the thump. But it hardly fazed him. Body armour? She carried on spinning out of her kick, moving as sinuously and as fast as a cat.

  Realising by now that Kath wasn’t Carrie, he flicked his gun up and Logan heard the phip sound of a silenced discharge. Kath flopped down.

  Wanda screamed. “No! Kath! Please, no …” Logan held her back.

  The attacker moved toward them.

  Three against one. But there was no doubt who had the advantage.

  Anger and adrenalin took hold of Logan and he launched himself forward. “Run, now!” He weighed near one-ninety and he propelled his bulk into the shadowy form like a pro quarterback. The intruder simply pivoted and swatted Logan with the side of his hand, knocking the wind out of him. He landed sideways, momentum carrying him across the floor in a long slide. In that instant he knew they didn’t stand a chance.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  Carrie leapt forward. The intruder was off balance and he failed to evade or block her. She hit him blindingly fast with her fist on the side of the head. It wasn’t kung-fu but an aggressive, angry lash-out blow that landed luckily. He staggered back. 6thgens were inherently strong for their size. But despite being caught off-guard he somehow flung her over onto the floor behind him. Logan heard her slap down. It would have knocked a human out cold. Instead, he watched Carrie scrabble on the slippery tiling trying to get up again. He shouted at her to run.

  From Logan’s left, another movement.

  Kath was back on her feet. The intruder hadn’t counted on that, and as he turned to meet her he didn’t see her arm flick out at his head. She was holding something that buzzed with a light. Logan knew what it was. She rammed the iTatt gun into his face and for the first time he made a noise, a choked-up grunt. He quickly regained his composure and Logan again heard the phip sound of his gun as he clawed at his eye with his other hand and pulled out the needle. Astonishingly, his wound still hadn’t stopped him.

  Wanda did though.

  She’d had time to get hold of a fire extinguisher, knock the cone off and trigger the hose point-blank into his face. His only vulnerable spot, it seemed. This time he cried out in pain. Logan knew from college pranks that pressurized CO2 is frost-bite cold. Without the diffuser cone the gas coming out would have been more concentrated. Clever girl.

  Now the intruder was pissed as he fired his gun three times in rapid succession, phip, phip, phip. Luckily, Wanda had moved off. Blinded, he groped around and managed to find Wanda’s arm as she tried to run past.

  Logan looked around frantically and found what he needed, already supplied by Wanda.

  The attacker’s back was towards Logan, vulnerable. Logan picked up the fire extinguisher and spun it around with all his strength. It connected, hard. He felt the sickening crunch through the metal cylinder and immediately experienced a fleeting sense of déjà-vu, but this time his target went down.

  The media sound system promptly died, followed by the cessation of the shop alarm and then the iTatt rigs and displays. A hundred-mile-an-hour screaming chaos had decelerated to an engine-off standstill in a couple of heartbeats.

  The only sound was their gasping.

  Wanda and Logan were kneeling, spent. Logan lifted the extinguisher above his head. Wanda grabbed his shoulder. “He’s done,” she said.

  The intruder looked a sorry state. Blood oozed hideously from one of his eye sockets, ran around and joined the pool growing rapidly from his rear head wound. His face remained a blur and Logan had no idea who this formidable man was, but it had taken all of them, including Salvatore, to put him down.

  Logan heard Wanda groaning loudly, full of pain. She’d crawled over to Kath and was holding her head in her hands. “Kath’s dead …” she wailed.

  Logan saw more blood, this time from under Kath’s back: the first shot, and then the bullet hole in her head. The bastard had shot her again during the fray and with incredible accuracy. He couldn’t find a way to express himself or tell Wanda it was going to be okay. It wasn’t. Instead, quietly, he said, “I’m so, so sorry … but we’ve got to go ...” And gently tried to pull her arm from Kath. She snatched it away and sank lower to place her head on Kath’s chest. She was rocking slowly, sobbing “no …” repeatedly, like an incantation, as though she could turn the ship back from Valhalla where dead heroes go. Tears were wetting Kath’s camouflage-coloured vest.

  He understood. They were closer than friends. A lot closer.

  “I’m so sorry,” he heard himself croak again, “but we have to go.”

  Salvatore said something, but he wasn’t paying attention.

  “What?”

  “They’re coming. Two polibots. Pic is sending them. I’ll try and confuse them. But I need to get back. Ade is coming …”

  Pic? Ade? Logan had no idea what he was talking about, except he understood the implication of polibots arriving on the scene.

  He pulled at Wanda’s arm again, steadily, more forcibly, and echoed Salvatore’s concern: “Their coming for us. Polibots. And they’re not the good guys.”

  Reluctantly, she let go of Kath and they stood up. He felt Wanda’s weight lean heavily on him.

  “Where’s Carrie?” said Logan, looking around them.

  Wanda found her strength and pulled away from him. She started towards her workshop.

  That was when he noticed that the shop entrance was wide open.

  “Don’t bother,” he said, “She’s gone.”

  Wanda’s focus shifted to middle ground. “Worse, she’s not replying to my call – not even acknowledging ...”

  “Dammit, I think we’ve really lost her this time.”

  “But we can find her again?”

  “I don’t just mean that – I mean her mind.”

  29

  How was that even possible?

  Pic was still ruminating over what had ha
ppened at the iTatt shop.

  The fact that the mystery hacker could interrupt and block his own ongoing activities was significant and deeply disturbing. Then the mystery hacker had misdirected and kept him tied up until they got away.

  These techniques weren’t spectacular by any stretch of the imagination, and it wasn’t that he couldn’t do what had been done to him, but it was the speed with which the hacker did it.

  This is occult level blackhat shit, he told himself.

  Had he finally met an online adversary that could match him on his own terms?

  He tried to figure how the hacker had achieved the trick – because that was what it was. All hacking was trickery, not magic. He considered a multihack, but quickly dismissed that explanation.

  Amongst other possibilities he considered was the use of cascaded 5thgens linked into iSense. No, that wouldn’t work either. Disgruntled, and irritated with himself, he rocked his head in time to various profanities he uttered. When he’d used up his personal dictionary of swearwords he stopped, belched loudly, and decided to put aside such theorising.

  As he’d promised Turkey, he’d already released his sniffers and trackers into the Cloud.

  The sniffers would search endlessly, close to light speed, replicating and branching out exponentially, and at the first hint of the e-signature that had been collected during the mystery hacker’s intervention at the shop, the trackers would take over and follow the trails to their source. There would be millions of such trails, of which the majority would no doubt lead to dead ends, but one would lead to the single, originating source and return the IP address. It was only a matter of time.

  Once he’d found the source, he would send his prized autonomous hunter-trojan app, one he’d personally designed and constructed. The app would hold the avatar at source and summon Pic, who would deal out his lesson, maybe have some fun, and shut the fucker down – but not before he’d learnt everything about him. Of course, this slap-down would only be temporary. Any half-decent hacker would simply generate a new avatar, change his virtual IP, and launch again. He knew he’d only get one chance. But that would be all he needed to find the physical location where this interfering fucktard worked from.