Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  Interworld Trade Center, Thermadon Val, Thermadon, Myrene System, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.01|13|07:80:54

  Passing over the Interworld Trade Center, Maya slammed her fist on the dash of her stolen police cruiser.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she shouted. If she hadn’t let her anger do all of her thinking, she wouldn’t have gotten in the mess she was in now. At the moment, her life wasn’t worth a single credit.

  She briefly considered returning to the Sticks to get her things, and then running for it. For somewhere.

  But her apartment was the first place that the Agency would look for her, and trying to leave Thermadon on a random merchanter was a poor gamble. Unless its Captain was a Daughter of the Coast—and a loyal one at that--the odds were excellent that the woman would just turn her over rather than risk defying the RSE.

  And even if she did escape, and tried to lose herself on one of the Sisterhood’s thousands of worlds, it would only be a temporary reprieve. Eventually, the Agency would find her.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  Her panic spiked. She needed help and she needed it from friends, she realized. The problem was that she had never been a person that had engendered loyalty. Everyone had always used her, and then discarded her when she no longer had any value. Just like Felecia and Sarah had.

  After a lifetime of betrayal and suspicion, she would have to do something that didn’t come naturally to her at all. She would have to trust someone. Her thoughts turned to the only resources she knew of; the JUDI and Skylaar.

  Bel Lissa owned the merchanter now, and she had the final say about what it did and who it carried. That was something.

  So was the fact that in all their time together, the woman had never done her any wrong. Neither had Zara.

  But they also did business with Sarah, and they were still with the Agency, however peripherally. So was Skylaar.

  The fact that her teacher, of all people, had to be considered carefully, felt like a knife turning in her guts, but it needed to be done. Skylaar was certainly an Agency asset, she reminded herself, but the Nemesian was also someone that she had always admired, and believed in.

  Now she would have to put their relationship to the test. Her years on the street whispered that it was just as false as everything else had ever been. Her heart however, felt otherwise.

  Like Bel Lissa and Zara, Skylaar had always been true to her. That had to count for something, she told herself.

  The only question was whether it would count for enough. Whether Skylaar would be willing to jeopardize her professional reputation and betray the Agency. The only way to find out, she knew, was to roll the dice, and pray for the best. There simply weren’t any other alternatives, and if she were wrong, she would pay for her error with her life.

  Before she could make this leap of faith however, she had to get rid of her ride. At the time, the cruiser had offered her a quick way of getting out of the Concordance Station. But now it was a beacon, pointing right at her. The Police Omniplex tracked all Metro cars, and as soon as someone figured out that their vehicle was missing, they’d find it—and her.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  Looking down at the Trade Center, she spotted a large hoverpad, and made for it immediately. The instant that the cruiser touched down, she was out and moving towards the nearest elevator.

  Once inside, she pressed a button at random. When she reached her stop, she got out and looked for a restroom, trying her best not to seem hurried, and ignoring the curious glances that she received.

  As soon as she was alone in a stall, she shed her uniform blouse and tied it up into a ball with her duty belt. The only items that she kept with her were her needlegun, which she tucked into her waistband, and some extra clips that she stuffed into her pockets.

  The blouse and belt met their fate in the nearest waste receptacle, right along with her Police ID card, and the badge with its built-in locator chip.

  Inspecting herself in the mirror, she knew that she looked a little strange wearing only a sleeveless undershirt over a pair of uniform slacks, but fashion wasn’t at the forefront of her priorities at the moment. Changing her identity was, and for once, she was grateful for all the training that she had received, and for her augmentation.

  Like all agents, the little nanobots that had modified her psiever had also given her options that the average woman didn’t have. Although it registered a ‘shell identity’ in order to keep the City AI happy, she could shut this down and become untraceable just like the SpecOps women.

  Suddenly ‘going blank’ wasn’t a smart option though, and she wasn’t even tempted to try it. It was one thing to do so on an active Op, where it was expected as a precaution against terrorist reprisal, but quite another in a situation like this.

  Like many other places, the security cameras in the Center were smart, and they tracked everyone that they saw and matched it with their identities. They were also networked with the City AI. Someone who came up on a display, but didn’t have any corresponding ID would stand out even worse than if they were on fire.

  This meant that she had to rely on another modification. Thanks again to the hard working nanobots, Maya could also change her psiever ‘tag’ along with the record stored in her biochip, and become someone else entirely.

  The skill to create such new identities, and implement them, was something that Sarah had included as a part of her curriculum. And the work products of these studies, the false identities themselves, were stored in two places; a base version in Maya’s psiever and a dynamic one out on the omniplex.

  There, they acted as if they were real, living people carrying on with their ersatz lives, updating and changing the information about themselves in a manner that seemed natural, and more importantly, absolutely real. Each alternate persona had its own medical and work records, as well as an entire background that went all the way back to its fictitious childhood, and much more.

  At the time, she had been so impressed with this that she had gone on to create several more identities for herself, just for the fun of it. Thanks to her extra practice, there were at least half a dozen ‘women’ that where completely unknown to Sarah, or her Agency friends.

  Before she could use them however, she had to trick the City AI, and for that, she needed to employ another ruse. At its essence, it was nothing more than a shell game like the ones they played on the streets of Ashkele, but managed with data, rather than cups and dried beans.

  Pausing at the restroom door, she closed her eyes, and sent a command to her ‘shell’ identity. She instructed it to quietly replicate itself, and then do nothing more than confirm its current location.

  Then she disconnected herself from the copy. At the same time, she instructed her psiever to imprint one of her alternate identities on itself and on her biochip.

  To the City AI, ‘Maya n’Kaaryn’ was in the restroom, and so was ‘Barbra bel Vela’, a tech employed at Bel Sharra Memorial Spaceport. If anyone was watching, they would have noticed the anomaly, but only for a second.

  Right away, one of the supporting files that she had created on the omniplex activated, and created a trail that led from Bel Vera’s ‘last known location’ to Maya’s present one.

  In attoseconds, the record was amended, convincing the City AI that Bel Vera had left her fictitious job at the Spaceport and had gone to visit the Center’s restroom. And the longer that she used her alternate identity, the more convincing the illusion would become. The file would keep receiving realistic additions.

  From here on out, the AI would be tracking what it believed was Maya n’Kaaryn, and not Barbra bel Vela. It was by no means a perfect solution, and she was well aware of this. Visually, she was still the same person, and anyone who tracked her by camera would see right through her ploy.

  Which was exactly why she not only intended to leave the Center as fast as possible, but to swap out her new persona for a third identity the very instant that she had finished placing a ca
ll to Skylaar.

  Finding a bank of holophones to do so was easy. Interworld had them everywhere and making the call proved to be just a simple. One of the prerequisites for a proper false identity were supporting credit accounts and Bel Vela had a small, but serviceable balance available to her.

  Initially, Maya had balked at this measure when Sarah had first suggested it, but now she was glad that she had followed the woman’s directions. The call went through after making a small charge to the account, and suddenly Skylaar was on the other end.

  “Maya,” the woman said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

  “I need help,” Maya told her, watching the stopwatch display from her psiever descend. How long did she have she wondered? A minute? Two? More?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “I know,” Skylaar returned. “Meet me where we trained last.” The call ended there.

  This was Maya’s cue to get moving. She turned from the holophones and headed for the elevator, sending out another message by psiever. This too would be trackable, but there was no way around it. It was to Rebá, currently parked at the precinct house.

  The hoverbike’s AI recognized her alternate identity from a secure file that it had on-board, and responded immediately. Maya didn’t have to ask the machine to change its own transponder codes as soon as the call was concluded. That was all part of the package that she had created.

  Rebá! I need you, she thought. Respond to my location, your fastest!

  On my way Maya, the machine responded. Traffic Rule Compliant, or High Speed/Disregard, Emergency? Like her mistress, Rebá loved any excuse to break the law.

  Make it fast, but don’t draw attention to yourself. Understood?

  Yes, Maya, There was no mistaking the hoverbike’s disappointment, but Maya didn’t feel any remorse. Given her dire circumstances, it was quite likely that Rebá would eventually get her opportunity to run wild. Maya only hoped that this wouldn’t happen anytime soon. She didn’t relish the idea of going up against machines like Aria, or worse, Aria herself, with Sarah at the controls.

  Sobered by the possibility, she re-boarded the elevators, changing out her identity once more. By the time she arrived on the roof, Rebá was there, waiting for her.

  Destination, Maya?

  Ponytail Park, Rebá, Maya told it. Bring your weapons online and keep an eye out for hostiles.

  Is there going to be trouble, Maya?

  That’s already happened, Rebá. Let’s get going.

  ***

  The RSE caught up with her halfway to her destination. There were two aircars and they were keeping pace with her in the light traffic. Like Aria, they were fast machines and stayed with her like a pair of predators, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Had a sixth sense not alerted her to their presence, and a quick lane change confirmed it, she wouldn’t have even detected them.

  If they were anything like Aria, she knew that they packed enough firepower aboard to bring her down, and she was certainly no expert when it came to this kind of fight. She’d been with Sarah when she had flown against opponents, but she had never had to do so all by herself. There was also no question that whoever were piloting the ‘cars were experts.

  Maya did have one thing going for her however. This was the hoverbike that she was riding. Thanks to Trina, Rebá had her own brace of weapons, a suite of defensive devices, and the AI itself was a clone of Aria. Together, this gave her a fighting chance.

  Rebá! she thought, there’s two ‘cars trailing us. I think they’re hostile.

  I see them Maya, the bike answered. Tracking them now and bringing combat systems online. There was a pause and then, Maya, they have Agency transponder codes. I can’t fire on them.

  “Well, override that!” Maya exclaimed aloud.

  I can’t, Rebá apologized.

  “Fek!” Maya barked. “Can you evade them if they fire on us?”

  Yes, Maya. I am allowed to do that, Rebá answered. I can also drop electronic countermeasures and ignore any shutdown requests.

  “Good. Now we need to lose them. Full speed, evasive.”

  Thank you, Maya! the AI responded cheerfully. The bike’s afterburners engaged and Rebá took them into a steep diving roll. Right away, the two aircars dropped and followed.

  The moment that they had gotten clear of the surrounding traffic, they fired their railguns. Rounds ripped by the hoverbike in incandescent bursts, and Rebá banked wildly to avoid being hit.

  ”Rebá! Do something!” Maya had no idea what to ask for, and she hoped that the AI was smart enough to improvise.

  Rebá was. Dropping countermeasures, continuing evasion. There was a pair of dull ‘thumps’ as the decoys released, and risking a look back, Maya saw them deploy. The gunfire was misdirected, but the two aircars kept up the pursuit.

  Missiles will come next, she thought. That was what she would have done at this stage.

  Her deduction was accurate. Hidden compartments under both vehicles popped open and she saw the clusters extend, and then the flash of multiple rockets launching. She didn’t need to warn Rebá, and there wouldn’t have been enough time even if she had tried to. In seconds the missiles were closing the gap and Maya hung on to the bike for all she was worth as the AI sent them into another corkscrewing spin, discharging flares and clouds of metallic chaff as it did so.

  None of the missiles hit them, but then the AI made a grave announcement.

  Maya, our stores of defensive devices is limited. If they fire any more rockets at us, I may not be able to deflect them.

  Which Maya thought, was probably what the pilots behind her were hoping for. Once Rebá was out of countermeasures, they would be well and truly fekked.

  “I’m going to take us down low, Rebá,” Maya said. By this point they were over the factories in the eastern part of the city. These were a maze of automated installations and with luck, she could use their smaller size and maneuverability to their advantage. It was risky, but as inexperienced as she was, Maya understood that staying up in the open air was sheer suicide. As she looked below them for a place to head to, the nearest aircar fired its railguns again.

  This time, the stream of Malandrium-coated rounds caught the edge of her ‘bike, shattering some of its engine cowling and sending shrapnel flying. Several of the pieces hit Maya’s leg, tearing into the fabric of her clothes and her skin.

  Maya winced and gritted her teeth against the pain as she took manual control over Rebá. With a hard jerk of the handlebars, she sent them into a tight loop to the left.

  A rooftop rushed up, and seconds before impact, Maya leveled off and flew them under a set of gigantic pipes. Immediately ahead of this was a tall building with a narrow alley leading off to the right. It was going to be a tight fit, but it had some overhead piping and several bridges that offered her a certain amount of cover. She took what had been given to her and went in, praying that the Goddess would see to it that the passage didn’t lead to a dead end.

  Back behind her, one of the aircars descended and stayed with her while its partner remained overhead, covering any potential escape in that direction. Then Maya saw exactly what she had feared. The alley terminated in a cul-de-sac. The only way out would be up, and then she would become the prey of the second machine.

  A second later, a fusillade from the trailing ‘car forced her to jink sideways, coming dangerously close to the walls around her in the process. She was running out of space, and options.

  With no other choice, she brought the nose of her hoverbike up and ascended. Just as she had expected, the second car fired a brace of missiles at her as she came into its gun sights.

  Maya, I only have enough countermeasures for one more missile. Rebá warned. The rest will hit us. I am sorry. I have failed you.

  “I forgive you, Rebá,” Maya said, unbuckling from her saddle. “Goodbye.”

  Goodbye, Maya.

  She threw herself off the bike and into thin air. The universe spun around her as s
he flipped and fell towards the earth. In the instant before she embraced her symbiote, she managed to catch sight of the first missile hitting the decoy that Rebá had deployed. And then the second and third rockets as they struck the ‘bike itself and transformed it into a churning ball of fire.

  Time slowed to a near standstill, and she drifted harmlessly to the ground. A full minute passed (or what seemed like one), before her feet gently touched down.

  Maya didn’t waste any time marveling at her escape. Instead, she ran full out, ignoring the searing pain in her injured leg and the blood that was streaming out of the wound. She also tried to calculate how long she could remain outside of the normal time-stream. From experience, she knew that the longer that she delayed release, the worse the aftereffects would be. If she waited for too long, she would reach a point where she would be incapable of defending herself.

  Borrowing on her training, she counted down the precious seconds and gained as much distance from the area as she could. When she reached the end of her count, she let go of the bond.

  As near as she could tell, she was blocks away from the scene of the attack and as the universe resumed its usual pace, she looked back to see where her pursuers were. Off in the distance, pieces of Rebá were still showering down, and both aircars were gaining altitude. They knew what she had done and now, they were hunting for her.

  She left normal time again and half-ran, half-hobbled away. When she reached the edge of her safe limit she came out again, certain that she had managed to escape.

  Then one of the ‘cars appeared over the rooftops. Somehow, they had found her, and as she began to stumble away, she realized why—and damned herself for her sheer stupidity. The symbiote had certainly done its job to help her gain distance, but in her haste to use it, she had forgotten one key factor. Her assumed identity. It was the same one that she had used to call Skylaar with, and the moment she had reappeared in the normal time stream, the City AI had been able to track it, and her.

  Stupid, stupid girl! She made a solemn promise to punish herself severely. But later, and only if she managed to survive.