by Adam Thielen
“Enough of that,” said Cho. “A few minutes' delay is a hiccup.”
“If you had not been here, I do not know how I would have resolved this.”
“You would have found your way,” said Cho. “I know it… Now about those records.”
“Thank you, Ms. Cho. I will get them and drop you on the roof.”
Tsenka nodded and moved to the weapons locker. It had two pistols, neither with the same style as her old one. She sighed and grabbed the Glock. She paired it with her optics and attached a wide suppressor to the barrel. Drew lowered the ramp ten meters above the roof and Tsenka dropped off its ledge, landing gracefully onto the building. She leaned forward and straightened her legs, launching from a crouch into a sprint toward the roof access hatch.
She shot through the hatch’s lock, swung it open, and slid down a metal ladder, old bits of paint flecking away as she went. She ran down the hall and leapt down a flight of stairs, then another, then entered the floor where Kate and Desre had been staying. The air still reeked of smoke, and two men and a drone were examining the burned-out walls of the rooms adjacent to Kate’s. But her room no longer existed, and it was clear from the damage that a large chunk of that section would need extensive rebuilding.
Tsenka lowered her hood and approached the men with her gun behind her back. As she neared them, they turned toward her while the drone continued documenting the scene. An older balding man spoke at her while his younger partner remained quiet. Tsenka’s HUD translated it as, “How did you get up here, ma’am?”
“I had a friend staying on this floor, and I can’t reach her,” she answered. The man shook his head and Tsenka’s HUD phonetically translated her words for her so that she could sound out the Mandarin equivalent.
“You can’t be up here,” the man insisted.
“Please,” said Tsenka, still translating. “I’m afraid she may be hurt. Can you tell me what hospital to check?”
The man sighed, tired of Tsenka’s interference. “I don’t think anyone died, but that’s not an official statement. A few people were taken to Tianjin Central for smoke inhalation. Now please go or I will have to contact security.”
“Thank you,” said Tsenka, bowing. She turned, keeping her gun out of sight, and walked back to the stairwell. “Drew, find anything?”
“If there were any deaths,” replied Drew, “they went unreported. However, I have located and picked up Kate’s mini-drones. She must have tossed them out of the window.”
“And then left them?”
“There was clearly a fight, Ms. Cho, but if Kate won I should be able to connect to her. If she lost…”
“Chantech may have her,” reasoned Cho. “Let’s check the hospital first.”
“Already waiting topside.”
* * *
Roland Somer rolled out of bed as beams of light pierced through the windows of his luxury flat, tormenting his eyelids until he gave up on sleep. He checked his messages and com-mail. No call from Desre or the people who had her. He sighed, lifting the metal ring that helped focus his future scrying from its charging dock. Small metal rods protruded from six spots evenly spaced around the crown of his head. He lowered the ring so that the rods lined up with their sockets, pulling it down until it clicked into place.
The psion looked in the mirror. His eyes admired the reflection. His abs and pecs had graphene patches melded to his skin. Thin wires could be seen along the insides of his biceps and the bends of his elbows. His muscles were lean and toned, and their size belied the strength granted by advanced growth hormone treatments and cybernetics. Unlike many who used assisted targeting, Roland still had both of his natural blue eyes. His targeting information, like some of his other cybernetics, was fed directly into his brain stem.
He stared into his own eyes, and for a brief moment, something bothered him about the face staring back. His eyes moved to his closet then back to the mirror. He smiled, sucking in a slight gut, then threw a pale blue silk robe around his body and moved through a short hall into a large open room with a kitchenette on one side, and a set of chairs and sofas arranged in a circle on another side.
A large cage with thick bars sitting in a corner of the room broke the theme of the flat. Inside sat Kate Jones, uncuffed and head uncovered. Next to her, just outside the cage, sat one of his goons, foregoing sleep to stand watch. The bars of the cage emitted EM noise, preventing Kate from communicating with the outside world. Somer had assured her that any use of quantum connections would be detected and traced to their destinations using Chantech satellites, and would result in appropriate punishment for the hacker.
Upon entering the room, she looked up at him, then back to the floor. Somer ignored her and went to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he went across the hall to another door, opened it and closed it behind him. In contrast to the tidy, almost sterile nature of the rest of the abode, this room was noticeably messy.
Roland had a hired assistant to clean it once per week but between those trips, his two lop-eared rabbits, one charcoal gray and one light brown, named Sage and Rosemary respectively, left little round poop balls on the floor, scattered their hay about the room, and attempted to destroy all their furnishings with their teeth. Said furnishings being mostly cardboard boxes with a few wooden crates taped or glued together to create a system of tunnels and places to climb.
The psion’s demeanor shifted as the rabbits scurried toward him, looking forward to the morning pellet feast. They stopped at his feet and lifted to their hind legs. He took the opportunity to stroke the tops of their snouts with his thumb, following it with longer caresses atop their bodies. The critters searched his hands, thinking he must have their precious morning meal hidden in some secret human pocket. Roland relented, grabbing a fistful of rabbit food and placing it on the floor in front of them. He sat cross-legged, continuing to pet them as they gobbled away, each occasionally nudging the other’s head away from a tasty-looking morsel.
In this room, Roland Somer was someone else. It was his private space where he was no longer concerned with power or money or women. There were times when he wanted to lock the door and never leave. Life was simpler here. It was just him and the bunnies. They vexed him as much as anything with their skittishness and messy habits, but they were innocent. Not to say that innocence had stopped him from hurting anyone before, but somehow the rabbits were a special kind of innocence, perpetual and complete.
“Just too damn cute,” effused Somer, tussling Sage’s fur about as he tried to win the game of who gets the most food today.
He turned to the door. “There’s so much out there,” he explained to Rosemary. “I wasn’t meant to live in that world. I should have been born a bunny.” And yet, of the thousands of times Roland was born, it was never, to his recollection, as anything but an unwanted human baby. He placed his head low to the floor as if to join his pets in their breakfast, gazing at their fluffy cheeks while they chewed.
“I love you,” he cooed a few times to each of them before standing and sighing. He cleaned up some of their hay and feces, and stuffed their bins with yet more hay to throw about. Finally, Roland rinsed their water reservoir then stood at the door to get one more look at them. Like a space exploration movie where the hatch has blown and all the breathable air is sucked out of the ship, the outside world pulled at him. And so he opened the door and left his miniature second life.
Back in the living room, Roland turned his attention to Kate. The contempt he felt for people, including himself, had returned. He pushed a stool in front of her cage and sat. He nodded toward his goon, who took his leave, closing the door behind him.
“Unless I missed a call,” he joked, “I don’t think anyone gives a shit about you, neuro.”
There was so much Kate wanted to say, but none of it would put her in a better position, so she remained quiet.
“Doing this still?” he asked. “Fine. I may yet keep you when I’ve given up on your robot or ninja or my stupid sister comi
ng for you. I’ll have to get rid of some of those implants and get a shock collar fitted, but I think I can break you. Wouldn’t be the most useful pet, but hell, it would be Kate Jones doing my laundry!”
“That’s not g-going to happen,” said Kate, finally speaking up. “And you know that.”
“Maybe,” he said. “You think you can activate your little death code in your sleep?”
Kate looked him in the eyes. “This is the only d-day I spend here. There w-will be no sleep.”
“Oooh,” he mocked. “Tough girl, eh? We’ll see how strong your convictions are when night comes.”
Kate did not respond, and Roland continued.
“Maybe it’s obvious,” he said, pointing at his face. “But I didn’t always live here. Lived in a couple different places, actually. I grew up listening and reading stories about you and Wu and Taq and Matthias. The world was such chaos, but you guys rode it like a bucking bronco until it simmered down. So inspiring. So... deceiving.”
“Please, tell me all about it,” snarked Kate.
“Well, look at you,” he said. “Before you all went into hiding, you spread your government religion across the globe, starting fires you couldn’t put out.”
“People r-rose up on their own,” retorted Kate. “We did what we could to prevent mass murder, and I never w-went into hiding.”
“Expected talking points,” argued Somer. “Just like the America that came before you, you refuse to take responsibility.”
“That’s rich,” said Kate. “Fact is, at some point lines must be drawn, and the rest of the world, afraid or unwilling to act, th-they are cowards. You work to keep a corporate boot on the throats of the masses so that you and your shit-eating friends can pretend to be part of the elite. A man whose only p-purpose is to lord himself over others is a waste of oxygen.”
Roland had heard her words before she said them, as she had over and over again through the cycles. He could have prepared a response. He desperately wanted to continue arguing with her, but the well-worn path dictated that he let her have the final say, and he didn’t stray from it lightly. He smiled instead.
“I’m just disappointed that after all the stories, you turned out to be so pathetic,” he concluded. “I’ll fetch you something for breakfast.”
“I won’t eat it.”
Roland stood. “I’ll find something you can trust around here somewhere. You already look frail, I can’t have you starving yourself.” He walked to the kitchenette when his com chimed inside his head. He sensed what would happen next, and his stomach turned over.
“Mr. Chairman,” addressed Roland.
“Good morning, Mr. Somer,” replied Zhuang Chan, the most powerful man in East Asia and possibly the world.
“What can I do for you, sir?” he said. It was a question only in structure, but not through inflection. Roland knew what Chan wanted, but limited to only a few moments' foresight, he didn’t know why yet. He could have moved ahead of his path to find out, but his actions were bound to the chain of events that previous iterations had created to take him forward.
“I would like you to turn on a news stream.” Though his voice steady, Somer could sense that something had unnerved the Chairman.
“Which one?”
“Any of the big ones we don’t own,” said Chan.
Roland complied, connecting his smart wall to a feed from the People’s Daily site. A composite video consisting of two talking heads played on the left third of the screen while footage from the Chantech weapons lab battle covered the rest. Somer found himself captivated by the scene of Cho with her blade drawn, facing down the most powerful mech the corporate superpower had produced.
The psion watched Tsenka dodge its particle cannon, and it made him flinch with anticipation even when he knew how the video would end. Whoever was filming was fleeing the scene, and it cut off after the woman swung her sword at the Behemoth’s leg. Her fate was unknown. But what was known was that a single woman had stood toe-to-toe with a weapon capable of leveling cities. It was a public relations nightmare.
“This was last night?” asked Roland, still connected to Chan.
“Yes,” said Chan. “Based on our current guest, the board has decided to act on the assumption that this woman is also New Republic intelligence.”
“Act?” asked Roland, eyeing Kate.
“Yes, Somer, we all must act now, to preserve our reputation.”
“I see. What must I do?”
“You were followed by her,” accused Chan. “Start by telling me who she is?”
“Mr. Chairman, I do not leave loose ends. But if somehow I made this mess, I will clean it up. I will find out who she is.”
“Please do, and quickly,” said Chan. “The board is demanding that we make a public example of Jones. You have less than twelve hours if you need to use her to get Desre back. How you will do that and make everyone happy is beyond me, but if you fail then someone else will have to take a fall.”
“Sir—”
“I don’t want to put this on you,” said the Chairman. “But you know how these things go. This footage has riled up the board and the major shareholders. There are protesters outside our plant where it was recorded, and anti-business groups in Baoding have taken it as a cue to demonstrate.”
Roland thought to warn him that Kate would simply kill herself before being put in front of cameras, but decided he didn’t need more complications. What he needed was to recover his sister and kill the other woman.
“I understand, sir,” he said. “I will kill the woman and get Desre back by the end of the day. This will blow over and the riffraff will head home to sulk.”
“I’m not worried about them. If the peasants we feed want to bite our hand, then we will deal with them,” declared Chan. “Take care of this so the board will get off my back. Consider what I do for you, the protection I provide, the value I place on your service. The others are not as enthusiastic about your work.”
“I know, Mr. Chan,” soothed Roland, rolling his eyes at the obvious threats. “I will get it done, I assure you.”
“I am sure you will,” said Zhuang. “Keep me in the loop.” The connection ceased, and Roland resumed staring at the image of Tsenka.
Episode 15: That Escalated Quickly
Desre folded her hands together behind the back of her head as she leaned back on the long reclining pool chair. The hot sun flooded her closed eyes with red. She breathed in the ocean air, innumerous tiny muscles throughout her body relaxing as she exhaled.
She wore a navy blue one-piece swimsuit that held the few undesirable lumps on her body into a complementary shape while accentuating her already ample chest. She opened her eyes every few minutes to gaze at the water as it formed waves that softly rolled over. Birds chirped and a breeze blew over the sandy beach.
For hours, the psion lounged, breaking her rest only to add sunscreen. The sun moved behind her, and the heat relented. Desre rose from the chair, her feet sinking into the sand. She curled her toes with a hidden glee. Slowly she strode down the shore and stepped onto the wooden walkway that led to her resort.
I’m famished, she thought, stopping at a restaurant shaped much like a ranch-style home, complete with a glass sliding door and a folded metal roof. Its sign read Kinka Kippa in a ribbon-like font. Faceless patrons filled the seats, and a greeter asked Desre how many in her party. She wanted to say two, but could not think of who she was meeting.
“Just me, for now,” she decided. The greeter nodded.
“Follow me, please.”
On the way to her table, a sketch framed on the wall caught her eye. It featured the outline of a man with large upright rabbit ears, wearing a mustache and all manner of random drawings inside the borders of his body. Something about it made her feel like a small child. Her head followed it as she passed, then returned to its duty of watching where she was going. The greeter set a menu in front of her seat.
The seer perused the simple menu of sandwich
es and chips, yawned, then skipped to the desserts. She felt a presence approach, drawing her eye's gaze away from the menu and up to the handsome face of a man. Was he my date? she wondered.
“Good evening, Ms. Somer,” he said. “May I join you?”
Somer studied his strong jaw and admired his facial stubble. His hair was black, parted but without being neat. He looked as if he’d gotten some sun himself. She liked them younger, but he would do.
“If you like,” she replied after making him wait.
“This place seems nice,” he said, apparently having little fine dining experience.
“You going to introduce yourself, stranger?” she replied with a smile.
“Of course,” he said. “My apologies, I thought you might remember. My name is Drew.”
Her mouth relaxed. “Drew,” she repeated, her eyes looking past the man and then back. The name sounded familiar. The psion listened to his mind. His thoughts were garbled as if in a language she did not understand, but smooth and almost melodic unlike the chaos inside other men.
“Well, Drew,” she said, picking up the menu. “What’s good here?”
The man stared into Desre’s eyes. “I have not eaten here before.” He looked around the building, peering out of a nearby window. “We appear to be in Kinka, Australia. Is this where you are from?”
“Not sure, hon,” she said, tilting her head to the side before grinning. “But I’m here now.”
“Indeed you are,” he continued. “Desre… I was actually hoping you could help me find Kate. Do you know what happened to her?”
Desre’s feelings of contentment transformed into a sense of dread. Something was not right about this man. “Drew,” she said, forcing a polite smile. “I think maybe we should cut this short. I’m enjoying my day on the beach, and I don’t understand what you want.”
“I am sorry, Desre. I know you need this, but as soon as I go, so does this beach, the restaurant, and your vacation. Your mind will not sustain it alone. I had been searching for you for several hours. I tried to give you some time, but we need you now. Can you help us?”