by C. T. Phipps
Stepping out of the shuttle onto the circular landing platform, I took a moment to take in our surroundings. We were close to a thousand feet off the ground, connected to a larger take-off tower for space-based visitors. Our platform gave us a good view of Akihito City, the largest settlement on the planet. We were surrounded by thousands of supercrete and duraglass spires rising out of the ground while uncounted automated aircars zipped around us.
Hundred-foot-tall holograms advertising narcotics, medicines, sexual simulations, vacations, and food products were projected everywhere. Announcements in several languages indicated the city would be doing a mandatory rainfall in the next hour, mixing in disinfectant with the natural waterfall in order to cut down on the spread of extra-solar disease.
Unlike other worlds, where the work would have been done by mechs, a white-haired man in his forties in a blue jumpsuit collected the trash spread from previous visitors and loaded it into a self-moving garbage bin. The man’s neck contained a barcode tattoo, which showed him to be an indentured servant to the state. Shogun was a planet of excess, and if you did not keep up, it chewed you up and spit you out.
The planet was humid, and I pulled my body-regulating jacket on tight before adjusting my sunglasses. My eyes actually adjusted better to light changes than a baseline human, but these were Hollow Man lenses, designed especially to give false positives to facial recognition software and make it more difficult for individuals to track me down. I’d already altered my face and clouded my DNA (however poorly) but I still wasn’t entirely happy with this situation. Too many people knew my real identity now.
“You can probably remove those,” Clarice said, walking up behind her. “My cousin undoubtedly knows everything about you.”
Clarice wore a pair of denim pants, a choker, and a scale leather jacket over a red halter top. A pair of sunglasses too.
“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” I said, looking out. “After all, it was the Rin-O’Harra Syndicate which provided me my falsified identity.”
I still remembered the bloody and corrupt work I’d had to do for several people, increasingly higher in the organization, trying to get myself a new life. It had been a liberation to find legitimate and unquestioning work on the Melampus. Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d been naive to believe the Syndicate would ever let me go. I owed my freedom to Hiro, according to him at least, and it was possible I’d just been sold like cattle.
Why should I have expected different?
“Oh?” Clarice asked. “What did our people ask of you for that little favor?”
I paused. “Quite a bit.”
Clarice didn’t ask more.
I turned back to the rest of the group Ida had sent to meet with Janice. There was William, Zoe, Hiro (looking too smug for his own good), and Isla. Isla was wearing a too-short plaid skirt and a white shimmersilk dress shirt with a formal jacket. A pair of cosmetic magni-glasses, the kind very popular on Crius when I was a boy, rested on her nose and brought out her eyes. She looked like she’d stepped out of a magazine depicting a sex-segregated school’s naughty adventure.
I thought about Hiro and wondered whether he’d already found out about my informing Zoe to inform Ida. I also wondered what Ida would do with that information. File it away for future reference? Blackmail Hiro? The thought occurred to me she might have him killed, though I liked to believe she was above that. I’d like to believe, but I didn’t.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Isla.”
Clarice grabbed my hand as I started to depart. “You should know Isla forgives you. I talked to her.”
I was glad to know that. It was, however, more than a trifle weird to have a woman you were sleeping with reassuring you that another woman still liked you. “Ah, thank you.”
“But you should be wary of my cousin,” Clarice said, lowering her gaze. “You’re exactly Janice’s type.”
Now it had gone from a trifle weird to extremely. “Uh, I have larger things to worry about than your cousin being a man-eater.”
Clarice closed her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. She built her place up in the Syndicate by finding people she could use, finding out what they want, and giving it to them. Only, by the time they were done, they needed something else.”
“So your sister is like Ida.”
“Ida’s different.” Clarice opened her eyes. “I did a lot of terrible things even when I didn’t want to do what my family wanted. I’m trying to make amends now.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m not a man to judge you. I have enough blood on my hands to dye stars.”
“I joined with Ida because I wanted to do something to make up for the weight of my sins. I want there to be a good and an evil in this world. I don’t like being here, Cassius. My cousin is family, like a sister to me, and I’ll always love her but everything she does, and has done, to this planet is wrong. I don’t like being sent down here to negotiate with her because I feel like any deals we might make with her will only paper over the corruption.”
I looked at her, then I turned away. “I don’t see the world that way anymore and never can. Every black is just white missing, and every white is black with some pigments absent. I also don’t think Ida is, necessarily, the best person in the world.”
“I trust her.”
“Good for you.”
Clarice let go of my hand and I walked over to Isla. Her reaction was to glare then look away. I was about to turn around and forget about talking with her when she said, “Hello, Cassius.”
“Hello,” I said, pausing. Looking for a conversation topic, I ended up choosing a poor one. “What are you wearing?”
“When I was downloading information to make me into someone able to study medicine, they gave me the memories of Melanie Hawkingwood, the brainy girl protagonist of the wizard’s school under siege by the Dark Lord. I figured if I was going on a trip, I’d disguise myself so I’m a less recognizable model of bioroid.”
“By disguising yourself as another kind of bioroid,” I said, not understanding.
“It seems I’m destined to be children’s book characters.”
“They are very different characters from the ones I grew up reading.”
“What do they read on Crius?”
“Slaying dragons, crushing revolts, burning heretics.”
“Charming.”
“It is what it is.”
Isla nodded. “When you said you were leaving, I perhaps overreacted. I am not accustomed to being friends with the men or women I sleep with. It complicates matters.”
I paused. “I would sacrifice whatever I need to make sure you and Clarice are safe, including myself. That includes staying with the Commonwealth.”
“That’s not friendship, that’s love.”
“Perhaps, but it’s how I feel. If I cannot serve a government I respect, I’m happy to serve those I care about instead.”
“Don’t put me on a pedestal. It’s too close to an auction block.”
“How about I just see you as you are.”
“And what am I?”
“A very capable survivor.”
“Not as capable as you might think,” Isla seemed to struggle with her next words. “Your sister didn’t want to have her memory erased.”
“I suspected she wouldn’t.”
“She seems to have no difficulty with being bioroid. That she was created as something less than human.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t see herself as less than human.”
Isla paused. “I didn’t want to have my memory erased because I was afraid. Afraid of dying. That, as a being whose consciousness is a collection of one’s and zero’s, I would cease to exist once those memories were gone. I don’t believe in a higher power or a hereafter, for bioroids or humans, so I held onto the memories. Both false and painful.”
“Isla…”
What was it about today and confession?
“The thing is, that I’m worried about you. Your sister will do anything to
survive. I think she’s lying to you.”
I didn’t respond. “Everyone is lying to everyone.”
“Cassius—”
“I think you should stop.”
Thankfully, she did.
William, thankfully, interrupted the moment by calling over to us. “So when is Janice sending her representative?”
“Honestly, they should be waiting here for us,” Clarice said, reaching down to the suitcase where she’d stored her plasma repeater. “I don’t like it.”
I grasped hold of my plasma sword hilt, tied around my belt along with my holstered plasma pistol holster. Clarice’s warning had us all preparing, even though it might be nothing.
All of us were as ready as possible when the buzzer sounded on the elevator doors and they opened up to reveal a group of Shogun Security guards accompanied by Kristoph Rin-O’Harra. They were armed for a ceremonial escort rather than a direct assault, and if they wanted to catch us unawares they would have done so by opening fire as soon as the doors opened.
Kristoph still wore his Planetary Commerce Commissioner’s uniform but it was covered with a thick overcoat and a personal force-field generator affixed to his belt. His medals were, thankfully, gone but his movements were precise and nervous. It wasn’t because we were around either.
Kristoph raised his hands as if in surrender. “Were you expecting trouble, dear cousin?”
“I’m always expecting trouble,” Clarice said, barely lowering her weapon. “It’s what’s kept me alive this long.”
“You would be right to do so,” Kristoph said, looking around. “The situation is not as you left it here on Shogun. Janice has made some uncomfortable friends and it is putting our position on the planet in jeopardy.”
“That’s pretty dangerous talk, cousin,” Clarice said, frowning. “Also, the Family is Shogun. It’s part of what I hate about this planet.”
“Things change, especially in wartime.”
“Are we at war?” Clarice asked.
Kristoph gave a half-smile. “Always.”
A buzzing in the distance, separate from all the automated cars traveling by and the other noises of a bustling metropolis, set me on edge. I caught a glimpse of the source microseconds before it arrived and didn’t have time to react. Two Black aircars outfitted with vehicular weapons descended from the sky and proceeded to strafe the platform, blasting through Kristoph and his soldiers before flying over us and forcing us to the ground from the force of their gravlifts.
“Get back to the shuttle!” Clarice shouted, lifting her repeater as the vehicles came around for another pass.
Instead, I ran directly for the remains of our invited guests and checked Kristoph, whose force shield had been punched through like a soap bubble. The generator was still functional, though, and had a physical barrier function as well. It was a commercial force shield and, honestly, not that useful versus military grade equipment but what I wanted wasn’t going to require much in the way of stopping power.
Setting the field directionally, I heard the buzzing once more and threw the force generator on the ground before throwing myself to the right. This time, it created a wall of blue light which one of the aircars slammed headfirst into and was brought to a complete stop. The automated systems had decelerated so it wasn’t damaged beyond the bumper, but the machine was hovering not sixteen feet away from it. I could see the helmeted pilot on the side, looking confused and bleeding from the forehead…
… Right before I pulled my pistol out and shot him through the head, blasting a hole through the duraglass. Clarice, William, Isla, and the others fired against the other vehicle but had only managed to damage the car. Our shuttle, unfortunately, was now on fire thanks to having its engines targeted by our persistent attacker. Making a run for the still intact air car at my side, I shot off the side entrance and threw myself into the driver’s seat, unbuckling its occupant and pulling back just as the other aircar attacked me.
This was a stupid plan.
Oh well.
Dodging out of the way of its plasma fire, I immediately pushed the aircar into a dive, relying on my genetically enhanced body to handle the sudden change in pressure from the right door of the car hanging wide open. The other air car attempted to follow, shooting at me and not caring if its blasts hit nearby buildings. Pulling on the controls, the car’s dummy A.I. warned me what I was doing was against safety regulations, but I kept it on manual before doing a loop-de-loop and emerging behind the enemy vehicle and blowing it to pieces with two blasts into its back engines.
It was a masterful bit of piloting, even if I was better outside of the atmosphere, but I didn’t have time to give myself a pat on the back since a second set of aircars came out from between a nearby pair of buildings where they’d been hiding. The scanners inside the vehicle gave me a good sense of their presence even as I guessed this was a converted police officer’s aircar.
“Well, the day I can’t defeat some dirty cops is the day I die,” I muttered, not quite processing that was an entirely realistic position given my general unfamiliarity with the machine and its damaged state.
The two air cars ignored my friends on the platform and fired repeatedly with their vehicular cannons, trying to get me less through skill than simply firing as many blasts as possible in my general direction. I relied on steep turns to keep me ahead of the two even as I could already feel myself ready to pass out. The fact I had to hold my body against the interior with my cybernetic strength to avoid flying out was another distraction I didn’t need. Then I shot the driver’s seat out of the first enemy target on my turn-around and buzzed the next of the attackers.
“This, this is all I’m good at,” I muttered, stunned when the right engine of the vehicle was struck by a stray shot from the enemy.
Emergency lights flair as a pair of belts wrapped themselves around my chest in place of the ones I’d pulled off. The aircar popped its top clean off and moved to an emergency landing before ejecting me. The machines hadn’t been designed for pilots who could manage the kind of controlled landing I could, let alone continue to fight. My seat slowly descended through the air as the enemy aircar zipped around to tear me to pieces in a shot even a child could have made.
Right before it blew up, spreading out wreckage and debris down to the ground below, destined to be captured by gravity nets in between the skyscrapers. Clarice had managed to get something stronger than her repeater from the shuttle. I could already see police aircars heading our way, flashing silver and gold lights to warn of their presence.
I just hoped they weren’t here to kill us.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They weren’t here to kill or arrest us.
Quite the contrary, in thirty minutes Clarice and I were riding in a luxury cloud sedan sitting across from a very-much-alive Kristoph. The interior of the vehicle was a sharp contrast to the kind of conditions I’d been serving in for the past five years. The seats were made of fine cloned leather, which felt soft against the skin, but also firm. The air from the ventilators was a cool mist that massaged the skin. A miniature bar and refrigeration unit sat next to a holographic stock ticker.
I still felt nauseated from my near brush with death but had to put on a fake smile as I sipped the champagne from oddly-shaped glasses. There was something nauseating about Kristoph in person and I couldn’t help but think he reminded me of Octavian. A nobleman who had been handed everything his entire life and dumped off into a position where he was expected to do little damage. Given he seemed to have created his own power base, perhaps I was misjudging him, or maybe I just had come to hate men of my former class.
Following us were two other less notable, but still luxurious, transports that contained the rest of our companions. The entire Akihito City police force, seemingly, was forming an honor guard around us. It was a symbol of the power the Rin-O’Harra clan possessed but not, apparently, enough to prevent the assassination attempt against us. Assuming it wasn’t ordered by them in th
e first place.
Kristoph took a sip of the too-sweet champagne. “I suppose you’re wondering how I’m still alive.”
“You sent a bioroid duplicate to meet with us,” I said. “A bioroid without your memories but the acting skill to pull it off.”
Kristoph frowned then shrugged. “Yes.”
“Poor for him,” I said, clutching my side. I’d bruised my ribs coming down and even my enhanced constitution would not take long to heal.
“He’s just a machine,” Kristoph said, shrugging. “It fulfilled its purpose.”
“Perhaps he’d disagree,” Clarice said.
Kristoph snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve become a Mech-Sympathizer, dear. You’re already depraved in other ways, don’t become a Robot-Kisser, too.”
Clarice narrowed her eyes. “Do you really see a difference between them and other people? You who have hundreds of bioroid servants, administrators, and soldiers powering your little empire in the wake of your takeover. People you choose to buy because you can’t trust anyone in the family.”
Kristoph paused. “No, I suppose I don’t. It doesn’t matter, though, either way.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Clarice said, speaking the words I suspected she had never had the courage to speak to her family.
“Doesn’t matter,” Kristoph said, looking out into the skyscrapers beyond. “If the man had been shit out of some woman’s womb or tubed between a couple of men, it wouldn’t matter. This planet was built on slavery. Two hundred years ago, the O’Harra clan were pirates in the middle of the Great Cataclysm and the Rin were merchant nobles over a feudal world with no resources. The Spiral needed laborers to rebuild. This planet was built on the billions of slaves taken and traded to do just that. Even with mechs and bioroids, born labor is still cheaper. They don’t question where their shoes come from.”
Clarice’s eyes widened before returning to normal. “How long have you been saving that speech?”
“Since you left,” Kristoph said, shaking his head. “A humiliation for the whole family.”
“We don’t need slaves. People don’t need slaves anymore. Bioroid or otherwise—”