"Now, to show that I'm not just making noise," Rix said, "I'm going to extract a little payment from your trespassing. First, that little stash of Mods your boy here had in his trunk is mine. I might burn it, or give it away to the neighborhood kids, or maybe I'll sell it myself, assuming it's not the usual crap that comes out of Brazil.
"But most important, I'm keeping your lieutenant here. I wouldn't count on seeing him again. I hope he's not your brother or anything, because I know how hard it would be to hafta tell your momma how you screwed the pooch and now your brother's gone missing."
He looked up at KC. "Ok, juice 'em."
She walked over and jabbed the two men with the ring needles. They twitched and flexed and shouted curses in Portuguese and Spanish, but soon fell silent.
"Alright, KC, do your thing," Rix said.
She pulled a small toolkit out of her bag, walked over and softly kicked the first man in the head. She then dropped down on her knees, selected a delicate tool from her bag, and forced open the man's eyelids. She bent over him and worked with the tool for several minutes.
At last she sat up. "Ok, the lens and readout film are removed. The implant is still there, but it's dumb and blind now." She unbuttoned the man's shirt and stripped it off. She put her face to within three inches of his body, scanning with a pair of the Open Sky optical display goggles. She rolled the man over. When she got to his neck, she smiled. "Here we go. A tracker." She pulled out another tool, and prodded and poked at his neck. She pulled out a small, flat tab from a sheath at the base of his skull, and tossed in on the floor. Small bits of skin and blood were stuck to it.
"There. Hopefully, a dog will eat this, and the boys in Brazil will have a really active tracker to follow."
She examined the second man next, but found no tracker or advanced implants.
"What should we do with the flunkie?"
"He's local," Rix said. "We'll take him and dump him somewhere on the other side of town so he won't cause trouble for a few days. Or ever again, if he's smart enough to learn a lesson."
KC nodded. "And the yellow dude?"
"I'm going to arrange for his disposal now." He walked over to a quiet corner of the building and woke his E-Thing.
He quickly composed and sent a message to Rohm: Please send private aircraft and security detail to NSA airport earliest. I have an unruly gift for you. It originally came in an ugly yellow wrapper. He attached an image he had taken of the man with his optics shortly after they captured him.
Rix walked back to where Big, KC and Marie were standing, by the sliding garage door at the rear of the building. He noticed Marie was looking at him with an expression on her face he had never seen before. It was almost like fear, but mixed with something else. He tried not to show that he had seen it.
"Well, Rix, I'd say the shit is really going to hit the fan now, but that sounds too passive," Big Fella said. "It's more like, you held the fan in one hand and crammed the shit into the blades while cussing out the fan's whole family going back to the first fan that pulled itself up out of the prehistoric ocean onto dry land."
"I can't wait to hear more of your theories of evolution at the next beer call," Rix said. "But right now let's load up these men and get out of here."
****
Vinicius Cunha stood up for the second time in the last minute. He wrapped his left hand around his right fist, and squeezed them together, knuckles glowing white. He sat down again quickly, and spun his chair to face the window behind him. The fragments of the chair he had smashed against the wall moments before lay scattered on the floor behind him.
He turned back around to his desk. The screen still stood upright, with the frozen image of the man who would steal from him, taunting him. With a lunge he swatted it from his desk with his left arm, sending it tumbling across the room. His nostrils flared and in one fluid movement he stood up again, kicking the chair away from him, raised his right arm, and brought his fist down with a crash onto the antique desk, splintering the top.
He stood for a moment, dazed, looking down upon his ruined desk, the rosewood treasure that could never be replaced. He knotted his muscles, fists balled so tightly that pain radiated up his forearms. "Droga!" His bellow filled the room, echoing in the hallway beyond.
He stalked back and forth across the room several more times, before taking six deep breaths, and closing his eyes.
He then slapped at his E-Thing and summoned Mr. Blue.
It took twenty minutes for the man to drive from his home to Vinicius' compound. When Mr. Blue walked into the office he glanced around at the destruction, face neutral, saying nothing. Vinicius was standing, arms crossed, staring out the window.
He turned after a minute, and gave orders in a quiet, firm voice.
"I need you to organize a trip to Tejas. We'll take the jet. We'll need to avoid the usual entanglements, as we will be taking many weapons. Gather all the best men. The ones who are not squeamish. Get started. We'll talk more in the morning."
Mr. Blue nodded, and turned to leave.
"Oh, one more thing. And don't take this the wrong way. But I need you to stay and watch over our operations here. I need someone I can trust to do the right things while I'm away. It seems lately I have too many people on the payroll who can't walk down the street without sliding in dogshit."
"I understand."
As Mr. Blue left, Vinicius exhaled deeply. Action always made him feel better, and a plan put action in motion.
Oh yes, Texan, I will find you. And then I will visit you daily in one of my involuntary testing facilities. You won't like the Modifications I have planned for you.
He smiled at the thought.
16
Marie turned her head slowly, trying to process what she was seeing. The wide room with its glass walls, the brightly lit clean rooms, the mechanical things that looked like spines hanging from hooks… it was difficult to take it all in.
It was the strangest place she had ever visited.
The whole crew had driven up to Big Fella Jackson's lair that morning. They figured they would have a day or two before Vinicius Cunha arrived in Texas — assuming he actually did — and it would be worthwhile to evaluate Rix in the meantime. They had not said much among themselves, but they were all still shaken by his collapse yesterday. It was shocking to see so strong a man crumble into a heap, nearly paralyzed with pain.
But this underground facility, so modern and mysterious, the complete opposite of the ramshackle motorcycle wrecking yard above, was almost as shocking to Marie.
Rix was in one of the far rooms in the rear, lying on an inclined table of some sort, while those two odd men, Jonathan and Young-Soo, examined him. They had various sensors attached to him and kept running a compact mobile scanner over his body. Big Fella was back there, too. Marie had noticed he was not just an observer, but a participant in Rix's examination. He had periodically conferred with the… what? Marie still didn't know exactly what to call them. Doctors? Scientists? Installers? It seemed it was always this way when it came to Modifications. They were going to need new words for some of the job descriptions surrounding the MI trade.
Marie turned away from the glass wall and walked back to the small conference room, as Big had jokingly called it, and dropped into her chair across from KC. The other woman looked up from her E-Thing.
"Relax, Marie. He'll be fine."
"I wish I could be as sure about that as you."
"Oh, trust me, he's been through worse."
Marie looked directly at KC, trying to determine if she was serious or joking.
"Well, don't leave me hanging," she said at last. "I haven't heard all those old stories. I sometimes feel like I'm missing something. For example, I've wondered why the two of you follow him so readily."
KC leaned back in her chair. She had been looking past Marie in a distracted manner when she had spoken before, eyes slightly unfocused, but now met Marie's gaze.
"So he doesn't talk about those da
ys much, eh? Well, men are like that," she said, smiling softly. "It's… well, you know how it is when you're at a specific time in your life, and it really isn't even a very long time, but so many things happen, life-changing things, that it seems like that short period is really the biggest and most important part of your life?"
She sighed and shook her head slowly. "No. Let me back up and start over. I'm getting ahead of myself. Look, it's like this — Rix likes to tell everyone he was a simple MP in the Navy, rounding up rowdy MIs when they'd trash a bar. I'm sure he must have done that once or twice, but that's not quite the whole story. No, he was a lot deeper into the beginning of this whole human Modification thing than he lets on. Rix was one of the first Modifieds — officially sanctioned, government-approved.
"I know that, because I was one of his counterparts in the Air Force, although we came along later. But we heard a lot about Rix through the grapevine. He was one of the pioneers. He was the guy who came through every prototype Modification like it wasn't any more difficult than taking an aspirin. A lot of people — and I mean a lot — weren't so lucky. The attrition rate for the MI program was atrocious on our side of the fence. I can only imagine what it was like for the Navy, which took the lead among the services.
"See, this whole street-level trade in Modifications that we have now is fairly new. It was the governments around the world that were taking the lead back then, and keeping a very tight lid on their materials and methods. In America we had very good people and the latest research, but we weren't the only ones. The South Americans and the Japanese were making very big breakthroughs. Anyway, the advances were coming quickly, although there were never very many of us.
"But they didn't see the Breakup coming. When the U.S. began splitting apart, the old government was desperately trying to control all that Modification technology. They did their best to keep us under surveillance, keep us from leaving for one of the breakaway republics.
"That was stupid. How could they expect us all to feel the same way? Everyone was choosing sides, and the way the Feds were trying to keep us leashed helped make up a lot of minds. Still, it was pretty damn scary. But Rix rallied those of us who wanted to join the Texas Republic, and he led us right out of there and on to Houston, where we were able to fight on the Texan side."
KC looked off to the side again, resting her chin on her fist. "You should have seen him in those days, Marie. It's not easy when a country falls apart, and emotions were running pretty hot. But he kept us steady. He always was the optimistic one.
"Anyway, they were furious when they realized they weren't going to be able to control all their Modified agents. Even though the new borders are set and the old nation is well and truly gone, the Atlantic States of America, where most of the old U.S government ended up, has Rix on its permanent shit list. That's why he's so paranoid about covering his tracks, as you probably know. I'm sure those ASA agents would love to find him and haul him back across the border."
"Yes, he's told me about making enemies over on the ASA side during the war," Marie said. "That's why he moved to New San Antonio and set up his false identities, and why he scratches out a living taking on these quiet little jobs rounding up Modified outlaws and other crazy people."
"Exactly," KC said. "And then as for Rix and Big Fella, well, that's something else entirely. Big was never a fan of bioengineering. He wasn't one of the early MIs or anything. But war makes people into comrades whether they necessarily see eye-to-eye or not. Did you know it was Rix who carried Big to the field hospital after the battle of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve? Well it was. Without him, there wouldn't even be a Big Fella Jackson today…
"And that," she said, casting a sideways glance out the door, "would have been a crying shame."
****
"Well, this is fascinating."
"Yes, fascinating."
Rix was tiring of the two-man banter, the back-and-forth sounding more and more like some old married couple finishing each other's sentences. But Jonathan and Young-Soo had been working together so long, largely in isolation, that he supposed it was a tolerable quirk. He took a calming breath.
"So tell me, how did the other recipients of this bone density treatment react?"
"I really couldn't say."
"And why is that?"
"Yes, why is that?"
"Because none of the others survived."
"I see," Young-Soo said, looking over his glasses at Jonathan, and this time there was no echoing reply. "I assume there must have been an anti-rejection regimen, yes?"
"For a while."
"Do you know what it was?"
"Yes, tell us about it."
"They weren't very forthcoming about the actual formula."
"Ah."
"Indeed. So we take it that you have not been taking any anti-rejection drugs recently?"
"Not since the shooting started, no."
"Hmm."
"Yes, hmm."
"Alright you two," Rix said, looking from one to the other. "I can tell you've already made up your minds. Out with it."
"Well, you see, Connor…"
"Yes, see the problem is…"
"Just give it to me straight. I've got a tarantula-sized cancer crawling around in there somewhere, right?"
Rix almost laughed at their shocked reactions.
"No, no! Nothing like that!"
"Yes, nothing like that!"
"What it is, well, is that it might be that your unique Modification worked too well, Connor. Or you could also say that the initial research and testing trials were sloppy."
"Yes, sloppy."
Rix gritted his teeth. "And that means…?"
"Oh, the bone density treatment certainly worked, Connor. But too well. The muscles and nerves simply cannot cleanly attach. I mean, they are attached, of course, but it is a constant battle, constant regeneration. No doubt it's quite painful. I think you may have to deal with this your whole life."
"Yes, your whole life."
Rix said nothing.
"But it may not be as bad as all that, Connor. As you know, we've been working on ways to revitalize nerve endings. That's been practically the entire push behind the exoskeleton project, repairing damaged communication between nerve endings, even strengthening the electrical impulses within the human body. As you well know from our large friend here. I think we can adapt the technology to your particular condition."
"Yes, adapt."
"Great. It shouldn't be any problem to knock that out in the next eight hours or so, right?"
Jonathan and Young-Soo looked at each other, startled. Jonathan's face flushed red, and Young-Soo began stammering.
"Guys, I'm joking. I'm not an idiot. Major surgery, very delicate. I get it."
The two laughed nervously. "Of course!" Jonathan said. "Ha ha! But really, installing one of our exoskeletons is probably not quite as invasive as you might think. The newest Exos we've worked up are extremely compact and lightweight. Big Fella's exo-suit looks like dreadnought engineering compared to what we have under development now. You won't believe how small the power cells are. The new model looks more like a tattoo than an automobile frame."
"Thanks, y'all," Big Fella rumbled.
"Oh we'll replace yours with one of the newer models… eventually," Young-Soo said quickly. "With your unique injuries we have to be very… er, careful."
"So there's nothing to be done today?" Rix asked, propping himself up on the table with his elbows.
"No! We didn't say that! We actually have something temporary that might help," Jonathan said. He walked quickly into the next room, returning a minute later with a small vial. "You see, before we can integrate one of our exos with a patient, we have to deaden certain inflamed nerve endings so the recipient doesn't go into shock. But it's not like a general anesthetic. It won't knock you out or make you feel numb. In fact, this particular drug is only one part of a three-part process, and I think it will temporarily lessen the pain for you."
"Yes, temporarily."
"If it will get me through the next 72 hours or so, then let's get on with it."
Jonathan and Young-Soo looked at each other. "Um, that's good. Yes, that's good! But are you sure you don't want to think this over a bit? I mean, as you well know, this is still a bit on the experimental side," Young-Soo said. "I mean, we feel very confident about this procedure, but, frankly, we gathered that you were a bit more cautious about new Modifications. Or so we were led to believe." Young-soo glanced quickly at Big Fella.
"Normally, gents, I do like to do a bit more research. But I've kind of been overtaken by events. If I'm rolled up in a ball shivering with pain at any point over the next couple days, a lot of lives are going to go down the drain fast. I've seen what you can do. If this will keep me upright for a few days, let's get it done."
The two men nodded almost simultaneously. "We appreciate your trust in us, Connor," Jonathan said. "This should do what you need it to do. But when your immediate project is completed, you should really come in for one of our new exos. I think it would be the permanent solution to your, ah, condition."
"I think I'll do that. But in the meantime, there's one more thing I need from you."
"Yes? What's that?"
"I need to borrow Caroline."
He watched the blood drain from both their faces.
****
Later, after administering the treatment, Jonathan and Young-Soo left the room muttering, leaving Rix and Big Fella alone. The larger man folded his arms across his chest and looked down at Rix.
"Is this how you saw things turning out? I'm telling you, Rix, you're a little too cavalier about Modifying yourself. It's gonna lead to a bad end if you aren't careful."
Rix buttoned his shirt, saying nothing.
"You never really had to pay a price for your enhancements, did you? It's been all upside until now, right?"
Connor Rix Chronicles 1: Rules of Force Page 13