He noticed Gantz looking in his direction.
“Something the matter, Robert?”
“No,” replied Gantz, trying his best to smile. “The old man used to do that. It was his only nervous tick, if I recall.”
Synth J pulled the Windsor knot tight and smoothed out his jacket. “It’s not a tick. It’s just something to occupy my hands while I visualize this meeting. Create the reality in your mind and your body will respond accordingly.” He turned away from the mirror. “It works even better now.” He smiled, lifting the corners of his mouth towards eyes that didn’t narrow. “Come closer, all of you.”
Gantz stood as the Spire leaned forty-five degrees and then corrected itself. Kessler raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.
Lord, give me the strength to not choke the life from her.
They gathered around Synth J.
“This,” he said, spreading his arms, “is my inner circle. You are my brothers and my sister. I have asked so much from each of you in the last week and each of you has exceeded my expectations.”
“Then how about a raise?” asked Gantz.
“My head of security cannot want for money,” said Synth J. “Or else Vinestead could buy your loyalty out from under me.”
Gantz ignored the voice in the back of his mind asking what loyalty and replied, “It’d cost them a hell of a lot of money.”
“Believe me, they have it.” Synth J nodded in agreement with himself. “But let’s not worry about that right now. Today we start a new chapter in our shared history. This is the moment when we start changing people’s minds.”
He motioned to the door, which one of the synthetics opened.
The Automated Guards entered first, followed by the lab coats. Gantz walked in after Kessler and stood behind a chair to her right. Across the table sat Cameron Gray, Cynthia Mesquina, and a third man Gantz hadn’t seen before. He looked familiar and generic at the same time, as if his features had been averaged out of a sampling of magazines. The way he stared back spoke to some recognition, but Gantz couldn’t place it.
Then Synth J walked in and the everyman across the table lost his shit.
“Gilbert, directive. Stop!”
Kessler’s voice froze the man—Gil?—in the middle of the table.
Those sons of bitches had done it.
Gantz felt himself mouthing the word sorry.
Two AGs pulled the synthetic back to his chair and each put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
Gantz turned to Kessler as she sat down. “You called him Gilbert. As in Gilbert Reyes?”
Synth J answered for her. “Your friend is gone, Robert, but we have saved the most important part of him. Say hello to Gilbert Reyes 2.0.”
Across the table, Synth G mumbled a string of curse words as he struggled to regain control of his body.
“Gilbert, directive.” The words flowed leisurely from Kessler’s lips. “Shut up.”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Reyes, I’ll be doing most of the talking today. First, I would like to apologize for what must have been a very unexpected and traumatic experience. Although we have spared no expense providing you with a new—some might say better—body, it was never our intention. We have simply tried to make the best of a horrible situation, by which I mean your unfortunate death. The synthetic, Roberta, has been remanded to Diagnostics until we figure out how she misinterpreted the imprint protocols given by Ms. Kessler.”
“What happened to Gilbert 1.0?” asked Cam.
“It was unpleasant,” said Synth J, “and that is all I will say on the subject. We hoped Mr. Reyes would surrender peacefully, but then no man gets a Margate chip because he likes to acquiesce. He gambled on the path of violence and got cleaned out. It happens.” Synth J shifted his gaze back to Synth G. “But all is not bad news. You are now the owner of the fifth Virgo-class synthetic ever produced. Thanks to Mr. Huber and Dr. Bhenderu, we achieved an unprecedented imprint saturation, far greater than we observed with Roberta.”
“Why does he look like that?” asked Gantz.
Chuck Huber cleared his throat. “There was no time to template his physical attributes. We used a pre-existing design and did our best to create what few resemblances we could.”
“Well, you failed.” Gantz stared into the eyes of his friend’s synthetic replacement, but there was no soul in there, no true memories of nights spent drinking themselves half to death at Pure.
“Thank you, Mr. Gantz,” said Synth J. “However, in the long run, a man of Mr. Reyes’ talents may be thankful for the new veneer, not to mention immortality, freedom from disease and fatigue, and so on.”
“Did you throw in rust-proofing?” asked Cam.
“No,” said Synth J, “but I can see to it that your synthetic is more than protected against premature oxidation.”
Cam sat up straighter. “Are you threatening me, asshole? You so much as look at me wrong and everything I’ve archived for the last week will auto-dump to Banks. Even this conversation we’re having.”
Synth J put up his hands. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Gray. I misspoke. That was not a threat, but an offer. I’m presenting you, as well as Ms. Mesquina, with the opportunity of a lifetime. Several lifetimes, actually.”
Gantz wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He was locked in a staring match with Synth G. Anger broiled behind those unblinking eyes.
“I don’t want shit from you, Perion,” said Cyn. “Except maybe five minutes alone without your guards to protect you.”
“All I ask is that you hear me out. After that, the three of you will be free to make your own decisions. Are we agreed?”
Cam and Cyn remained stoic. Synth G tried to speak, but was unable.
“Whether you appreciate it or not, Mr. Reyes represents the next great leap forward in human evolution. You may believe the path to salvation lies in augmentation, Ms. Mesquina, and in some ways, I agree with you, but we are now able to skip over the years of painful surgeries to arrive at a final solution: synthetic sleeving. Out with the old and in with the new. Why replace your body in a series of augmentations when you can do it wholesale in one treatment?”
Cyn regarded Synth G out of the corner of her eye. “He’s completely synthetic?”
“Everything except his soul,” said Synth J. “His mind is powered by proprietary synaptic gates, quadruple the density of anything Katsumi has ever produced. Like it or not, you are now a synthetic human being, Mr. Reyes, an ambassador for a new race of people. Ms. Kessler, if you would.”
“Gilbert, directive. Speak.”
Gantz detected a hint of pleasure in the way she gave orders. And was that a smile hiding in the corner of her mouth?
“I didn’t ask for this,” said Gil.
“And what exactly were you asking for when you started airing our dirty laundry to every feed junkie in the country?” asked Kessler.
Did she know the chief of police was the source of that dirty laundry?
“Information wants to be free,” said Cam. “If you’ve got nothing to hide…”
Synth J nodded. “And what about Mr. Reyes? Does he want to be free?”
All eyes fell on Synth G. “I am free,” he replied.
Synth J’s laughter was mechanical and droll.
“No, Mr. Reyes, you are not free. In the eyes of the state of California, you are deceased as of eight a.m. Saturday morning. Industrial accident due to personal negligence. Or so they will say once Chief Gantz files his official report.”
“Benny will never buy that,” said Synth G. “I broadcast in the clear for several minutes before Roberta broke my sliver. I’m surprised you haven’t heard from our lawyers yet.”
Gantz touched his sliver; if Synth G only knew.
“You are correct,” said Synth J. “That was a particularly damning piece of sensationalist reporting, but it’s nothing my head of PR can’t sweep under the rug.”
“She can’t make something like this disappear. Not even with your h
elp.”
“Right again, Mr. Reyes. That is why you’re going to help her.”
This time, it was Cyn who laughed.
“Synthetic Humans: the next step in the evolution of mankind.” Kessler’s voice rose and fell in aggregator cadence. “A tragic accident in the heart of innovation, a man struck down in his prime. Mr. Reyes didn’t ask for an untimely death, but now he has a second chance. All he asks is to be treated like anyone else, like a human being.”
Cyn rolled her eyes. “Nobody will swallow that bullshit.”
“Why not?” asked Synth J. “You’re only marginally more human than Mr. Reyes. You’re allowed to walk around with an Ayudante chip in your head because people are familiar with it, they know where it comes from. If you swap it out for something new, if you show people there’s another way to go that’s foreign to them, they’ll come after you with scalpels.”
“Let them fucking try,” said Cyn.
“What do we have to do?” asked Synth G.
“You can’t be serious,” said Cam.
Synth G looked at his lap. “I’m a goddamn machine. And these assholes are the only ones who know how it works. What choice do I have?”
“We could always turn you off,” said Kessler. “It makes no difference to me.”
“Ms. Kessler, please,” said Synth J. “Mr. Reyes, what I’m offering you, what I’m offering all of you, is immortality. Infinite re-sleeving for as long as the company exists. Mr. Huber will personally design your Virgo Prime synthetics, each one geared towards your individual specifications. Ms. Mesquina, you can be stronger and faster than you ever thought possible. Mr. Gray, you will always be young and fit, an enviable combination in the City of Angels. Mr. Reyes, you and Ms. Dulac can live out the rest of human existence together. And most importantly, no directives.”
“Answer my question,” said Synth G.
Synth J brought his hands together on the table. “Once you are all in your new bodies, you will go and preach the synthetic gospel to the people. You will use your positions at your respective media houses to further the rights of synthetic humans. You will continue to do this until synthetics have the same rights as organics.”
“And then what?” asked Cam.
“Then you will be free.”
Cam shook his head. “Walking around in Perion hardware means we’ll never be free of you.”
Synth J smiled. “A small price to pay, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Balls to that,” said Cyn.
“Yeah, great big hairy balls to that,” said Cam.
Before Synth G could weigh in, the double doors of the conference room swung open, smacking the walls on either side. An unshaven Joe Perion stepped through and took in the room.
Gantz smiled at his friend, but got nothing in return.
“You!” screamed Joe, taking a step towards Synth J.
Four AGs moved in front of him as his synthetic father stood.
“Joseph, what are you doing up here? We agreed you should stay in the bunker where it’s safe.”
“You mean where I’m out of the way? There was never any threat, was there, Dad?”
“How did you get out?” asked Kessler. “We had guards…”
“Oh, I know,” said Joe, tiptoeing to be seen over the Scorpios’ shoulders. “They had me locked up like a prisoner, but then I remembered. I remembered what Mom used to tell me.”
Kessler laughed; Synth J’s face lost all expression.
“And what did the darling Victoria Perion have to say?” asked Kessler.
Joe sank onto his heels and addressed the AGs in front of him. “All that lives must die. All must walk their own path to the dust.” The confidence in his voice reminded Gantz of the late titan. “Now, leave us.”
The AGs looked at each other and wandered away, as did the AGs standing behind Synth G. Every synthetic within earshot seemed to lose their programming, everyone except…
Joe approached the table as the synthetics filed out of the room.
“So,” said Synth J, “you figured out the failsafe. Now what?”
“Now you go back in the box.”
“An interesting idea.” Synth J crossed the room to his son, his hand stroking the smooth skin of his chin. “I could do that. I could just stand aside and give up my dreams because my little boy wants to play CEO.” He stopped in front of Joe and put a hand on his shoulder. “I have a better idea though. How about I stay on as CEO and bring about the synthetic revolution humanity has been waiting for and you… you learn some goddamn respect?”
“My father is dust,” said Joe. “You are not him. You are not the CEO of Perion Synthetics. You are nothing but a product!”
A synthetic hand shot out and gripped Joe by the throat.
“Maybe you’d like to be dust,” said Synth J.
Joe struggled to speak. “All that… lives… must…”
“Keep saying it, boy. Primes have no failsafe!”
Gantz moved automatically; the adrenaline beat back the headache and the blurred vision. Muscles in his legs contracted, pushing the chair away and raising his body up. A hand that had been nervously tapping on his sliver sought out the hardware tucked beneath his armpit.
“Put him down, James!”
He was able to level the Perion PD standard-issue 9mm before he finished his sentence.
Synth J looked over his shoulder. “Stay out of this, Robert. This is a family matter.”
“I will shoot if I have to.”
“Will you betray me again, Robert?” asked Synth J. “After all I have forgiven?” He lifted Joe off the ground with just one arm.
“I won’t let you kill my…” Gantz watched Joe’s eyes roll into the back of his head. “My friend.”
“Then die with your friend,” said Synth J. His other hand shot out, perhaps intent on finding another larynx to claim as a prize.
Forgive me, Father…
Gantz saw the twitch in the synthetic’s shoulder and gently squeezed the trigger. It only took one shot to send a firework of reverse-engineered Katsumi tech spraying across the table, splattering in a mixture of black sludge and metal shards.
Joe inhaled deeply as he fell to the ground.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” screamed Kessler. “You just murdered James Perion!”
“That looks more like property damage to me,” said Cam.
This time, it was Kessler who rushed the table. She was halfway to Cam when Gantz called out.
“Kessler, directive. Stop!”
Gantz retrained his weapon as Kessler turned to face him. That she could still move surprised him; he was almost certain she was a synthetic.
“Joe, what do you say we get the fuck out of here?” asked Gantz.
“I want on that train,” said Cam. He waited for Cyn to stand and followed her to the door.
Gantz backed away from the table and helped lift Joe from the floor. At the door, he handed him to Cyn.
“Are you coming?”
Synth G hadn’t moved from his seat, had barely winced when the shot was fired. “I’ve transcended the natural world,” he replied, his voice shaky.
“I can’t just leave you here with her, Gil.”
“Gil is gone. Whatever I am now, I have to accept it.” Finally, his eyes came up. “If they have Jackie…”
“This isn’t over, Gantz,” said Kessler. Standing in the middle of the table, she towered over the room. “You will answer for this.”
“We’ll see,” he replied, backing up into the hallway.
“Next time, it won’t be just one synthetic.” She smiled. “I will bring every goddamn synny in the city down on you.”
And yet you would ask forgiveness?
Gantz pulled the doors closed and engaged the magnetic locks.
The open elevator at the end of the hallway beckoned.
44
Gantz typed his security code into the elevator’s vidscreen, forcing it to bypass all other floors on the way to the
lobby.
In one corner, a dazed Joe stood with his back against a mirrored wall, one hand on the railing and the other around Cam’s shoulder. The bruises on his neck had shot past purple and were now a sickly black. The few words he uttered were followed by furtive gasps and then sharp inhalations through his nose as he tried to breathe through the pain. Though there was blood at the corner of his mouth, it was not flowing.
Gantz examined the magazine in his 9mm and then stowed the weapon inside his jacket. His hand shook as he engaged the clasp on the holster. He held it there hidden from view until the tremors subsided.
Fucking Synth J.
It was one thing to deviate from the vision of his former self, but to physically harm his own flesh and blood? There was no excuse except one: Synth J was no longer flesh and blood, so the bond between father and son no longer existed. There was no guarantee Synth J wouldn’t someday extend the dissolution of compassion to all of humanity and declare himself the god of a new race of synthetics, when he knew as well as Gantz there was only one true God. Ignoring the basic tenets of the human condition didn’t come easy to most people, but once it started, the slope was often greased with blood.
Synth J’s actions had already spilled enough blood, both human and synthetic.
“How long until we hit the lobby?” asked Cyn.
Gantz nodded to the vidscreen. “Maybe thirty seconds. Why?”
She looked at Cam. “Remember last time? I don’t think we should be in here when it stops.”
“What’re you thinking?” asked Cam.
Cyn replied by stepping up onto the railing and punching her way through the white paneling on the ceiling. The sound of humming electromagnets filled the car as she opened the service hatch.
“It’s risky,” said Gantz. He looked to Joe. “What do you say? Can you climb?”
Joe made the slightest of nods and centered himself beneath the hatch as Cyn’s legs disappeared through it.
Gantz helped Cam lift Joe into the ceiling. Joe gave a cry halfway up, but Gantz kept pushing anyway. When the scion was safely on the roof, Cam stepped onto the railing and using Gantz for leverage, hauled himself up through the hatch.
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