Spectra Arise Trilogy

by Tammy Salyer

  “What are you doing on Obal 10?”

  Recollection suddenly pierces through my anger like a shard of ice. Quantum—he said I can call him Quantum, and it’s a name I’ve heard before. One of the wire-rats La Mer’s been trying to reach—he’d called the guy our best chance. “Looking for you,” I answer.

  He reaches back inside his jacket. When it comes out, he’s holding a very long, very sharp-looking knife. He steps forward and leans over me, pressing its needlepoint tip into my throat, just to the left of my windpipe. His other hand comes to rest on my thigh, its warmth oppressive through my pants.

  “Toying with me will not make this easy for you.” His teeth are jagged, like an animal’s, fierce and feral. The knife tip presses deeply into the fragile skin of my neck, so sharp it almost doesn’t hurt, but I reflexively try to draw away. “You have only this chance before I decide you’re not worth my effort. How many people have you brought to Tunis City, and which one of them is Axone?”

  La Mer hadn’t mentioned anything about what kind of man Quantum would be. I assumed—wrongly—all these types were unprepossessing, non-combative punks who would run at the first sight of trouble. Not bring trouble to us.

  “If you pull that blade out of my throat, I’ll start talking.” I need to swallow, but the knife has started to pierce. Swallowing will make it bite deeper.

  He removes the point, but keeps the edge against my throat. I never thought I’d be the one negotiating for help from some wire-rats, and I try to imagine what approach Vitruzzi would take. Unfortunately, my reactionary personality is nothing like her natural composure. It seems likely that what I come up with will barely scratch the surface of how she’d have chosen to handle this situation. So be it. I decide to proceed with my usual tactic—the forward assault. “We’re going to blackmail the director of the Ministry of Science and Engineering, and we need your transceiver.”

  Without backing up, he laughs, his breath exploding against my face. When he does, his lips roll back to show his teeth have the same ragged sharpness all the way to his molars. “You’re going to blackmail Kurosawa T’Kai? That is really funny. Please, tell me more, merc.” He shifts backwards and the knife is finally withdrawn.

  I don’t usually underestimate people, and I won’t make that mistake with him again. But I have to give him something that shows we mean business. “You sound like you don’t think we can do it. Believe me, T’Kai will take us seriously after what we did to the Fortress. And we’re not mercs.”

  He stops laughing, the cold sincerity in my voice freezing his febrile humor, and studies me closely. “You are trying to tell me you had something to do with that bio-warfare laboratory?”

  “More than something—I destroyed it.” His expression doesn’t change, but I recognize the effort it takes to keep it that way. “You wouldn’t find it so funny if you knew what we have on T’Kai.”

  He looks over my shoulder and nods his head at someone behind me. One of the other men pushes the end of a gun against the back of my head. I press my body tightly against the seat, using its stability to provide the leverage I’ll need if I’m forced to lunge. Keeping my eyes on Quantum, not sure what I’m going to say, but knowing that I better say something fast or I’m going to be treated to something decidedly more painful than a slap on the cheek, I start to bargain. “Now look, Quantum, let me talk. I think you’ll see—”

  Before I can tell him what exactly it is he’ll see, he leans forward again and takes hold of my left hand, pressing the knife through the skin of my palm and downwards in a diagonal line. The pain is like fire, streaking up my arm, bursting into my elbow, and continuing until it dissipates at my shoulder. I cry out, the pain and fear of a bird caught in a net, and the knife is withdrawn. He leans close, putting his face centimeters from mine. “You are arrogant and foolish. To throw words at me like the Fortress. What does an Admin spy know of the Fortress? It is only a superstition made up by simpleton non-cits who think there is government conspiracy everywhere.”

  Now I’m a spy instead of a merc. It must be a trick, an attempt to manipulate me into giving up my cover—a cover I don’t even have. It would be my turn to be amused if I weren’t fairly certain that I’m about to be carved up like a whittling stick.

  I stare directly into his face, unflinching and calm. “I’m not a spy and you know it. I’m a deserter. And a friend of Axone’s. He’s a wire-rat who helped destroy the Corps records database during the Soldier’s Rebellion. The Admin sent him to become a test subject at the Fortress. My team intercepted the prisoner transport he was on, and he’s been working with us since then.”

  “He was arrested?”

  “Why else would he be on a prisoner transport?”

  That comment gets me another backhand, this time across the other cheek. And this time, a lot harder. But he leans back away, giving me hope that he’d seen what I wanted him to see in my face—the truth. I take hold of my injured hand and hold it up and away from my body. Blood streams down my palm and forearm and begins dripping onto the floor. I wiggle my fingers. No tendon damage, not that deep, and—most importantly—not my primary firing hand.

  “How much does the Admin know about the people that destroyed the database?”

  “Nothing. La Mer—Axone—didn’t tell them anything. They sent him to the Fortress to spill it, I guess, but according to him, everyone else is already dead.”

  “Everyone.” He says the word in a peculiar flat way.

  “Yeah. Dead.”

  “What do you have that will force T’Kai to cooperate?”

  My whole world has become Quantum’s unwavering eyes, their irises deep brown and flecked with hints of gold like glitter. I stay silent. It’s turning out that he’s more of a free agent than any of us had anticipated. The way he’s strong-arming me and his focused, intent questions make me wonder if he’s planning to try and take over the show. Maybe use me as a bargaining chip of his own to get the footage Rajcik had collected. He must have friends, a network he can rally to go after T’Kai. If he gets that footage, he won’t keep us around, a bunch of non-cits and deserters. The fact that he’s only asked me what we have that would impact T’Kai, and not why we’d want to go to such outrageous lengths, concerns me the most.

  That, and how he’d found me in the first place.

  He lets me hesitate for a few seconds, then grips my shirt in his fist and pulls me up. My nose comes to his chin, and there’s still a gun pointed at my head. I’m pushed to a bank of monitors and he switches them on, saying casually, “Your friends will not be able to help you.”

  The monitors hum to life and focus on images of Vitruzzi, Rob, David, and Thompson scattered throughout a stairwell.

  “They are outside, not far from us, but they cannot go anywhere. I’ve activated the firewalls and sealed the stairwell. It would be easy for me to gas them, or pull out all of the oxygen, whatever I choose. Do you finally understand what the stakes are?”

  They must have found me using the tracker Vitruzzi implanted in my arm. The building is at least a few stories tall. When they’d brought me in, we’d descended three levels in an elevator and the lack of noise or windows makes me think we’re underground. With the amount of equipment in here and the promise in Quantum’s voice, I have no doubt that he can do exactly what he’s threatening to. Through the monitors, I can see the words Sublevel 1 painted on the wall behind Thompson and David, and Sublevel 2 painted near Rob and Vitruzzi. They’re spread out. How long have they been here? I can see on their faces that they know they’ve been barricaded in.

  But I’m not ready to surrender or give him the satisfaction of believing he has the upper hand. Without turning, I warn, “Maybe you should consider your options. They’re here, and they’re not going to leave without me. Besides, what do you gain by killing us?”

  Before I finish speaking, the monitors are suddenly filled with an explosion of white, then blank out in quick succession. There’s a loud bong from outside of the room,
and the window in the stairwell door is shattered. Everyone ducks instinctively. Immediately, the air is suffused by a fizzing sound, as if a steam pipe has broken, and moments later the heavy, garlicky-smelling smoke of a phosphorous device begins to fill the space.

  The man with the gun yanks me backwards by the shirt. This is my moment, while they’re distracted. I leap forward, breaking out of his grasp easily, and dart past the equipment, grabbing a handheld radio as I divert behind a bank of tables and hit the deck.

  “Hirota, get her!”

  The overhead lights cast a yellow pall that barely penetrates the thick smoke. I pull my shirt over my nose and try not to breathe heavily, relying on my nasal filters to help protect my lungs. I can see the stairwell door at the end of the room. The man called Hirota is moving around nearby, and he’ll be on me in a second. As he approaches, I crouch and wait until the moment I know he’ll have to come around the desk’s edge, hopefully with his gun held in front of him where I’ll be able to knock it free.

  My eyes grow teary, blurring my vision just as I start to lunge, but someone has come up behind me and grabs me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. I swing the radio like a hammer at his face and strike him in the chin. He curses loudly, and his grip comes loose enough for me to pull away, but Hirota is right here, a laser pistol pointed at my chest. Frantic, I glance behind me towards the stairwell opening, and my last hopes are dashed. It remains closed.

  Blood is dripping from a deep gash along Quantum’s jaw. I have a moment to savor the fact that I’d injured him in return before he walks in front of me and plugs his fist into my stomach, doubling me over and leaving me completely breathless.

  “You should not have done that.”

  Water pours out of my eyes as my chest hitches for air. He glowers over me like an enraged dog, all snarling teeth and fierce eyes. “What are you going to do now?” I manage to gasp.

  Before he answers, the sound of Vitruzzi’s voice comes from his pocket. My VDU. “Aly, what’s your status?”

  I straighten up and feel the barrel of Hirota’s pistol poke against my spine, just beneath my cervical vertebrae. Quantum looks thoughtful for a moment, then walks a short distance away, pulls the VDU out, and activates the screen.

  “She is fine for the moment.”

  There’s a pause, then Vitruzzi again. “Whom am I speaking to?”

  “Enough games. Your friend has managed to put a bad taste in my mouth, and now I will tell you what is going to happen.” As he speaks, he motions Hirota to push me into a chair and places my VDU on a desk, where he links it to a console. Vitruzzi’s face comes up on the attached monitor. “She mentions that you have some very important plans for a very important man. You have some information that will convince this man to meet your terms. I want to see this information.”

  “There’s no way.”

  Quantum looks over at me and a drop of blood falls from his chin, splashing onto the console. He turns back and says, “That is a rash decision. How much do you want to see this woman again?”

  David breaks into the conversation and his face appears in another square on the monitor. “You should be careful who you threaten, whoever the fuck you are.”

  “Uh-huh. So, Vitruzzi, this information?”

  “Let me speak to Aly.”

  Quantum nods and Hirota walks me over to the console. I pick up the VDU. “I’m okay, V.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Quantum nods at my questioning look and I reply, “I’m, um, with Quantum, the wire-rat La Mer’s been trying to contact, and a couple of his friends. I don’t know how they found me, but they picked me up on the docks.”

  “Tell us exactly what happened, Aly. Are we compromised?”

  Compromised? That’s not so easy to answer. I’m fairly certain the Admin security teams on the docks hadn’t IDed me, and right now, they’re a minor issue. Mainly because I’m feeling majorly fucking compromised by Quantum and his thugs. I’ll just go with a simple response. “There was some trouble and I lost the truck, but I’m certain we’re still clear of the Admin.”

  While we speak, the third man working with Quantum goes to a control box on one wall and triggers the ventilation system. The room begins to clear.

  “What do they want?”

  I glance at Quantum and answer, “You’ll have to ask them that.”

  Quantum retrieves the VDU and pushes me back. “Vitruzzi. Your associate tells me that you have some means in which you intend to blackmail Director T’Kai, and that you need my transceiver to do so. This tells me that your information is digital, perhaps video.” He pauses, assessing Vitruzzi’s reaction.

  “Continue,” she replies.

  “We have some common interests, but it does not matter to me if the Admin discovers your scheme and obliterates you. And they will. If you have any sense, you will leave something of worth, like this information, behind, where it can be leveraged effectively. Which I have the means to do. And I also have your friend.”

  Vitruzzi closes the connection and my VDU darkens for several seconds. Quantum quickly grows impatient and forces me to open a link to her. “I don’t think you understand the urgency of this situation. Your tactics to get my attention lacked subtlety, and now that you have damaged the firewalls, maintenance will be coming. I’m sure you did not fail to notice that we are in an Admin structure. When they get here and find you loitering in the stairwell—illegally armed—we will already be gone. And they will find your friend’s body in the bay.”

  She responds this time. “If you let us use the transceiver, you can have our information after that. That’s the deal.” The edge in her voice is cool but frustrated.

  “I must see it to make this deal. Is it with you?”

  “Yes. But I won’t show it to you over the com.” There’s no give in her voice, and Quantum’s tight mouth curls at the edges, looking almost pleased. He walks to a console near the elevator and manages a series of switches and buttons, presumably retracting what remains of the fire barriers and unlocking the stairwell door.

  The third man takes a position near the door and yells in an accent that sounds far-Obal, “Place your weapons down on the floor in front of you. Now turn and walk to the back wall. Put your hands on it. Stay there.” He opens the door and he and Quantum quickly gather their guns.

  Once the team’s inside, excitement and relief flood my overly taught nerves, quenching some of the anticipation that’s been burning through them for the last several hours. Seeing Rob here helping the crew gives rise to a complicated set of emotions: guilt for putting him back in danger, and a heavy and awkward jolt of relief that he’s willing to take a risk—again—to come to our aid. To come to my aid.

  “You okay?” David catches my eye and checks in.

  “As good as can be with a pistol in my back.”

  “Your hand?”

  Blood has soaked through the material I’d wrapped it in, but it’s not leaking. Judging by how heavily it throbs with each heartbeat, my heart must be the size of a whale’s. I nod to let him know it’s not a concern at the moment. I can still shoot, provided I get my hand on a weapon.

  Quantum looks them over like a scientist examining something new at the bottom of a lab petri dish. “None of you are the wire-rat she has called La Mer.”

  His sharpness exceeds his people skills, that’s a given.

  “He’s keeping an eye on our basecamp,” Vitruzzi responds.

  “I see. I’d very much like to meet the lastman alive who was responsible for bringing the Admin as close to its knees as it has ever come.”

  “You’ll get your chance.”

  Quantum looks at her sharply and the corners of his mouth retract into a snarl as he realizes she’s been playing him.

  Vitruzzi continues, “You’re going to have to take us back there to see the footage.”

  She drops her hands from her shoulders and the others follow. Quantum’s men don’t react. The tide has shifted.

&nb
sp; “Look, your fucking game is as tiring to us as it is to you,” she says. “You’ll see the footage, but first we have to come to an understanding. You’re not going to kill us or throw Aly in the bay. And you’re not going to continue this pointless charade of yours. You’re just a pretender, dicking around on jacked sat-links. Not some of kind of anti-government subversive.” There’s a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, so thin you might think it was just glare from the lights. But she keeps her cool. So cool I can almost see the air condensing around her breath, as if her lungs were made of the same frosty material as her composure. “If you want to step up and do it for real, this is your chance. We’re going to bring T’Kai down. Either he’s going to agree to our terms—which you don’t need to worry about—or we’re going to show the entire population of the system what our government is doing to people behind closed doors. We have the power. We have the leverage. We just need a goddamn transceiver and someone with enough balls to give us access to it.”

  One thing is clear, she’s completely shed the last vestige of herself that was ever Admin. She sides with non-cits now. Anyone who hedges their bets by playing the Admin’s game is nothing but a tool to her, or an impediment.

  Quantum’s face turns red. This is the first time he’s been at a disadvantage since abducting me on the docks, and he doesn’t like the situation. He points a small-caliber pistol with a silencing barrel at Vitruzzi. She and the other three have spread out at arm’s length, blocking the stairwell and keeping them covered a few meters away from where Hirota holds me at gunpoint. If shooting starts, there’s enough equipment in the room that at least David and Rob, who stand on the ends, may be able to dive under cover out of the line of fire. Quantum’s third man stands behind them, right where he’s most likely to get picked off by Quantum or Hirota’s crossfire, so Vitruzzi and Thompson have a better than average chance of not dying if they duck in time. Still, I’ve had odds I liked a lot better.

  Anticipation, fear, and anger mix with every breath taken and exhaled, making the air so dense I could choke on it. No one speaks. Several monitors still feed live footage from cameras placed in various parts of the building, and movement in one of them catches my eye. A municipal emergency truck is pulling into the garage above us and maintenance workers begin to disembark. They’ll be here in minutes.