People hurried about below me. None of them glanced up. It looked like lunch hour.
How are we supposed to find the target in this chaos? I asked in my mind.
Over here, Aisha answered my thought. I think this is him.
I summoned her screen. She was only a hundred feet away, by the edge of the river. A well-dressed man walked in front of her. He carried a black briefcase that looked the right size.
Should we all come? The question came from Charles. He was halfway across the city in front of some meat market.
Come closer and be ready. Aisha’s thought sprang into my mind. Patrick, head this man off. Elijah, right flank. Naomi, left flank.
I soared up another twenty feet and flew around the nearest building to monitor the right flank. While I waited for the man to approach, I checked Naomi’s screen. She was hovering over the middle of the river. I could smell her air. It was fresh, and so were her thoughts. All the data from her system was more real, as if I was experiencing it exactly as she did.
Look, Naomi suddenly warned, behind you!
It was too late. A shock rolled through my body and mind, and I was ejected.
My senses came to the present, to the simulation room. I removed my headset and its link to V. My four teammates were still immersed, as were our five opponents sitting on the opposite side of the room.
I stood and watched ten screens on the far wall. Nine of them were active, showing exactly what the nine remaining players saw. The screen showing my device was frozen. The melon-sized drone I had controlled was on the ground, motionless. It looked like a messenger drone with robotic frog legs. But when I was connected to it, the machine felt like an extension of me. They used to say worlds like this were virtual. Now they were real, because where the mind goes, reality follows.
“That’s what happens when you let emotions distract you.” The Captain’s disappointed voice filled the room.
“I didn’t let emotions distract me,” I defended.
“You checked your teammate’s status.” He stepped to my side and pointed to my screen. “Look at 4:43:27.” The image rolled back to that moment. “Your instinct was right,” he said. “The right flank must check the left flank. So far so good. But here, at 4:43:35, you are lingering on Naomi’s status. You already knew what you needed—her position, her line of sight. You did not need to stay to know what she smelled. She tried to save you, but you were already lost. Agent 8 had been tracking you. He saw your drone holding still as seconds ticked away. He took you out before you even saw him coming.”
“I’ll do better next time,” I said.
“You are lucky to get another try,” the Captain warned. “You are lucky to be here at all. Your father owes me one. Now shape up, boy. You fail the test tomorrow, and you’re out of luck.” He turned away and studied the screens.
A moment later Patrick and two of the opponents were ejected from the simulation.
“We took them out!” Patrick gasped, as if bursting out of water for air.
“And you died,” the Captain said. “You took an unnecessary risk. Watch and learn.”
The Captain walked over to a chair where an opponent was sitting, just ejected from the simulation. The man rose at the Captain’s command. The Captain sat and lifted the headset.
“But you said it was a simple five-on-five,” Patrick protested.
“And I told you to trust no one,” the Captain said. “The enemy will not follow the rules. Neither do I. Watch.”
He lowered the headset and his eyes closed. His face became intensely concentrated.
I turned to the screen showing what the Captain saw. He soared at a faster pace than the rest of us. He swept high in the air and then dove straight down, his view zooming onto the man with the briefcase.
The man ducked into a building and Aisha’s drone followed him in. My eyes jumped from screen to screen, to watch the action unfold. Charles and Naomi took up guard outside. Their screens showed them scanning all around.
The Captain launched a shot from an impossible distance. The missile looked like a tiny, soaring bird until the instant it opened into a net. The net snared Naomi’s drone and sent it shaking and falling to the ground.
“Hey!” Naomi shouted as her consciousness returned to the room. “We knew where the agents were. Someone must have taken over an agent who was down.”
As she stood, she glanced in the direction of the Captain. His eyes were still closed. Her face darkened knowingly. We exchanged a quick glance, and then turned to study the screens.
Charles’s machine had moved inside the building. It was a noodle shop. A few patrons eyed the floating drones warily. The man with the briefcase was at the counter. Our mission was to get the briefcase and leave the man untouched. Charles flew up beside his right ear. The drone was about the size of the man’s head.
The man turned to Charles. Then Aisha’s drone dashed out from the other side of the counter and its claw snatched the briefcase.
Another drone appeared in the room and fired at Charles just as Aisha fired at it. The opponent and Charles both went down, and Aisha’s drone burst out a window with the briefcase.
She flew free for only a moment before her view of the smog-ridden sky jarred, blinked, and went black.
The Captain’s screen showed Aisha’s machine bound in a net and crashing to the ground.
“FAILURE.” THE CAPTAIN’S voice was in the room again. He was pulling off his headset. “What did you do wrong?”
“We were too aggressive,” Aisha said, as she and Charles joined the rest of us.
“Correct,” the Captain answered. “We are not the military. We do not bash into restaurants and pick fights. We watch and we wait. We wait and we watch. Only when the perfect moment comes do we act. We cannot risk discovery.”
“But we would have won,” Patrick said, “if you hadn’t cheated.”
“Cheated? What rule did I break?” The Captain stepped up to Patrick. The older man was a head shorter, but looked like a predator. “There are no rules in this game, boy. If you want rules, join the armed forces. Here you’re not going to get orders in the field. All you’re going to have is your wits and your teammates.” The man’s bald head leaned closer to Patrick’s face. “You think it was a good trade? You go down and take two with you?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Patrick began, but then he shrank back under the Captain’s stare. “Well, I guess it depends.”
“There are no good trades for ISA-7,” the Captain said. “Why not, Wade?”
Our instructor had joined the room without me noticing. He walked up to the Captain’s side and smiled at us. “You are the world’s frontline for intelligence and thus peace,” he said. “We pour immense resources into training you and equipping you. The drones you’ll ultimately be operating cost as much as this whole simulation room. No one outside of ISA-7 knows they exist. We must keep them hidden behind ISA’s public face. If you get an opportunity to sacrifice yourself to save a million lives, then we’ll think about the trade. Otherwise, the Captain is right—you never reveal yourself while on mission.”
“Your entrance examination is tomorrow,” the Captain said. “I expect better from each of you.” His gaze settled on me. “Fail tomorrow, and say goodbye to ISA-7. Better yet, if you harbor a single doubt, don’t show up again. A few of you might have what it takes. We’ll see.”
The Captain walked out. No salute this time.
“Sven?” Wade looked to the skinny guy who had been the last one left in the simulation with the Captain. “Time to tell them more about the drones.”
“Sooo, want to learn about drones?” asked Sven. He looked like an under-slept Nordic hacker who was barely older than we were. He had blood-shot eyes, thick dark glasses, and wild blonde hair. “Wasn’t that exercise amazing?” He was practically bouncing on the floor, either from excitement or from way too much caffeine.
“It was cool,” Charles answered. “A little better than some of the games I’v
e played. Your recreation of Shanghai was impressive. It felt very real.”
A smile stretched over Sven’s face. “That was real! We didn’t make up anything about Shanghai, other than instructing the target about the exercise.”
“Seriously?” Patrick looked as surprised as I felt. No one had mentioned the simulation would be in the real world.
“Seriously.” Sven was still bouncing from foot to foot. “Why do you think we made your drones look like standard package deliverers? Those little helicopters are everywhere in Shanghai these days, and so are minor drone attacks. It’s standard corporate espionage.” He took a deep breath. “Just wait until you try our best drones.”
“What are they?” Charles sounded eager. “Fighter planes, tiny machines the size of bugs?”
Sven shook his head. “Are their precepts secure?” he asked Wade. “Is it time?”
Wade nodded. “They’re clean. Fire away.”
“You’ll be operating human bodies,” Sven said.
“Live bodies?” Naomi’s eyes opened wide.
“No way, not alive!” Sven answered. “We can’t control others’ minds, not yet at least. But we can reconstruct a fresh corpse, preserve its flesh a while, and rebuild its nerve system with circuits. Then you can occupy it completely when we link your precept. This sync is more comprehensive than with the messenger drones, and it is much more dangerous.”
“When do we try it?” Charles seemed more excited than the rest of us combined. Maybe this was going too far. Sure, we could grow organs and control prosthetics with our minds, but corpses?
“Someday soon,” Sven said, “but first you’ll have to prove your sync capacity is high enough, and we’ll have to upgrade your precepts. If you pass the exam tomorrow and enlist fully in ISA-7, we’ll do those things right away.” He held his arms wide like the ringmaster of a techno-circus. “Human existence is changing, my friends.”
“Bet y’all will never look at another person the same way, will ya?” Wade asked.
“How long has this been going on?” Naomi glared at Sven and Wade. Her voice and presence made them look small.
“We passed the first prototype only a few years ago,” Sven explained, ignoring Naomi’s tone. “The Captain was the first one to survive the process.”
“How many died?” Patrick asked, looking a little pale.
“Why did they die?” I added.
“We lost more than we care to admit,” Sven said. “And we don’t know exactly why. Something strange happens when you sync completely with another human body. We’re still trying to figure it out.”
“Don’t worry,” Wade chimed in. “Every agent who has passed tomorrow’s test and handled the precept upgrade has been fine. We’re not losing any of you to failed syncs.” He held up three fingers pressed together. “Scout’s honor!”
“Friends, you’re in good hands with Wade.” Sven clapped his hand on Wade’s shoulder. “He got me through this process a few years ago. Listen to him. He’s more than meets the eye.”
“And here I thought I was just easy on the eyes.” Wade winked with a weak attempt at charm. “See ya, Sven.”
“Bye everyone!” Sven bowed to us. “We’ll be talking lots in the days to come. Good luck tomorrow.”
Sven left and Wade began telling us the schedule for the rest of the day. My thoughts ran ahead to tomorrow’s test. I had assumed we would all pass, with the scores mattering only for assignments and rank. Surely I would pass. They did not bring me here to push UN bureaucracy with the rest of the ISA. As creepy as it sounded, I wanted to try operating another body. No wonder ISA-7 kept everything so secret.
“So to wrap up,” Wade was saying, “lunch break now, then we’re in the classroom for a couple hours and back here for the rest of the afternoon. See you at 1 pm sharp.”
“YOU WERE GOOD in there,” Naomi said, as we made our way to lunch. Charles, Aisha, and Patrick had walked on ahead of us.
“If I was good, I wouldn’t have been the first out.” The Captain’s criticism still had me shaken up.
“I saw your metrics,” Naomi encouraged.
“And?” I had not seen them yet.
“Your syncing was in the top three.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “Was the Captain first?”
Naomi nodded.
“What was my rate?” I asked.
“95%.”
“Really?” Now I could not hide my disbelief. Earlier Wade had said most trainees synced their minds and precepts with a drone’s movements 80% of the time. “What were the rest of us?”
“We were all above 90%,” she said, like a proud big sister. “They picked us for a reason, but we have room to improve. The Captain was at 100%.”
That seemed impossible. “What was your rate?”
“Not perfect,” she said, her face hinting at frustration. She pointed up at the lunch screen before us. “How about shakes instead of just water and pills today? Hey look, there’s Patrick, Charles, and Aisha. Let’s grab our shakes and join them.”
The three of them had already gotten their lunches and were sitting outside. It would be awkward not to join them now, but at least I had managed to steal more time alone with Naomi.
“Okay,” I smiled at her, “lunch outside with the group. But before we go, tell me your rate, and how you did it, then I’ll tell you what I dreamed last night.”
“Another dream?” she whispered, studying my face.
“Yes, what was your rate?”
She looked down, a touch of red on her cheeks. “98%.”
“What!” I could not believe it. “It takes agents years of training to be that good.”
“I want to be better than good.” Her gaze returned to me. “You would have been at 98% if not for your last minute.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your last minute,” she said, “when you checked in on my status. That was when your rate dropped. You had been at 98% sync before then.”
“Wow.” I’d expected to do well, but that was amazing. “Did the metrics show why my rate dropped so much?”
More color came to her cheeks. “You know how your mind syncs with your drone?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, in the same way, you started to sync into my drone, which pulled you away from your own drone. You were at an 87% sync with my drone when you were taken out.”
“But doesn’t it take special training to partner like that?” I felt heat coming to my own cheeks.
“Usually, that’s what I’ve heard.” She let out a slight, uncomfortable laugh. “I’ll have to be more cautious when flying with you.”
“Or maybe we’ll have to make it an official partnership,” I said. Maybe “partnership” was ambiguous, and maybe that’s because I wanted it to see which way she’d take it.
But she deflected my idea. “We’ll see,” she said, motioning to the food distributor. “Let’s get our shakes while you tell me about your dream.” Her long legs started to walk away.
I began to follow after her but my feet froze. A video screen on the far wall showed a man speaking before an assembly. I stepped closer. He was the President of the UN, and I knew his face.
Naomi had stopped and turned back to me. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“The dream,” I said under my breath.
“What about it?”
The images crowded my senses. I could see the man standing over Naomi and me. I could hear her screaming, No! The memory was clear as day.
“What happened?” She tugged my arm gently and guided me to a corner of the room where no one was nearby. “It’s okay, tell me. No one can hear us now.”
“I had the dream again. Most of it was the same. But,” I swallowed, “but this time you were there. The man, he spoke to us.”
“What did he say?”
“He commanded you not to talk.”
“What else? Who was he?”
I shook my head. I did not want to admit how the man had spoke
n to me, like he knew me. “He looked like the President of the UN.”
“Donatello Cristo?”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s…” she paused, “he’s the most powerful man in the world. Why didn’t you say it was him before?”
“I don’t know. I thought I recognized him, but it was like there was block in my mind…like he wouldn’t allow me to know who he was. But when I just saw him on the news over there, it hit me like a ton of bricks.”
“So what else did he say?”
“Nothing really,” I lied. Then I remembered the way he’d looked at me. I’d never seen a man so…so appealing. “Well, one thing,” I admitted, “he introduced himself to me. He called himself a weird name—Abaddon. That was it. Then I woke up.”
Her face had gone white. She hesitated before speaking but her words came out with quiet certainty. “You must come with me to see Bart again tonight.”
“I’d rather not,” I said. “Maybe I’m better not knowing his theories.”
“Please?” She took my hand in hers and stepped closer.
I glanced down at our hands. Together. Touching. I looked back at her eyes. My resistance crumbled. There was no way I could say no. I tried to rationalize it: Bart could at least be a little amusing, even if he was crazy, so I’d be sure to hear something interesting.
“I will go,” I agreed, “but will you let me take you somewhere tomorrow, after the test?”
“Where?”
“Somewhere special, a surprise. We’ll come back on Saturday morning.”
She let go of my hand. “I’m not sharing a room with you.”
“Of course not,” I said innocently. “Separate rooms, separate beds, I just want to get away. We’ll find some fresh country air.”
She eyed me like a fish studying a worm on a hook. “These plans are not of your making, Elijah.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your dreams,” she said, “and us. This is all part of something bigger.”
“Us?” I smiled. If “us” was part of something bigger, maybe I’d be okay with that. Hadn’t I accepted the ISA invitation to join something bigger in the first place? “So, does that mean you’re up for a surprise trip?”
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