Division Zero

by Matthew S. Cox

  Against the far right wall, a little girl of about eight or nine sat in a huge chair that left her stocking feet dangling, shoes kicked a few feet away. Her dark violet dress shimmered with a hint of metallic thread. It looked like an overpriced designer thing only someone with an excess of money would buy for a kid. Diamond-encrusted barrettes held back her long, thick brown hair, most of her face hidden beneath adult-sized electronic display goggles. Her cheeks flashed with colors, her hands clawed at the air as she manipulated her VR world.

  Kirsten drifted closer to her out of curiosity.

  Beneath the gargantuan helmet, the child’s sad mouth formed a flat line. Between her expression and the murmur of voices outside, Kirsten assumed a disinterested father stashed his burden in a rear office so he could work. She wanted to peek into the girl’s mind, but with Kirsten’s consciousness quite some distance away from her body, she could not. Any psionics she activated now would emanate from her living body, assuming they even worked at all.

  She folded her arms, staring. The girl appeared healthy and had no visible injuries or apparent lack of care. For all Kirsten knew, she could have just been denied some expensive want and pouted about not getting her way.

  Damn you, Mother. You always make me think the worst.

  Kirsten patted her on the shoulder, making the child shiver.

  “Heat, seventy four,” said the girl.

  The room responded with a faint mechanical whirr.

  Gliding in the direction of the voices, Kirsten left her behind and floated out into a well-lit room. Her astral body cast a diffuse radiance upon dark grey tiles of natural marble. A series of three-foot tall faux Greek columns stood every few yards along the far wall, upon which perched onyx statuettes of stylized nude male athletes. The windows appeared as strips of black, the interior lighting too harsh to afford a view into the night.

  An Asian man in his early thirties faced an older, white executive in a high-backed leather chair. The seated man’s greying hair held a slight hint of its former black right at the top of his head. Upon the desk, a nameplate:

  Lucian Talbot, Senior Vice President, Research & Development.

  Kirsten’s eyes narrowed. So, this is the son of a bitch who wants me dead.

  She floated into the desk, waist-deep in the wood, and glared at him. Neither man reacted in the slightest way to her approach, continuing their discussion ignorant of her presence. Amber light glimmered on their faces, reflecting in the polish of the desk. Their lips moved in silence, the two men animated in a conversation that had been going on for some time.

  “I had instructed that a certain degree of discretion be exercised.” Lucian interlaced his fingers in front of a frown. “The police were swarming all over the place and what, may I ask, was your man doing with high explosives?”

  “Sir, I don’t have direct control over this team. Arrangements were made through a neutral third party and―”

  “I am not interested in your excuses, Tanaka, I am interested in your results. Motte’s progress with the Cerberus directive was impressive and I want the data recovered.”

  “I understand, sir. You must realize there are certain delicacies which must be accommodated when you are trying to have a member of Division 9 eliminated. The grenades were a contingency in the event of a doll operative.”

  Kirsten’s eyebrows shot up. These idiots think I’m with Div 9? Both Nine and Zero wore black most of the time, but there the similarity ended.

  Damn. If these morons want to get into a pissing contest with Nine, they are in for a rude surprise.

  The thought of what Carter would have done to the man in the parking deck made her laugh, and Carter still had a human body. The fact they had no idea what they dealt with made her feel comforted and worried at the same time.

  “You think me a fool, Tanaka? I know exactly what is at stake here and we must have this woman dealt with before the government gets its hands on Cerberus.”

  Kirsten’s face hovered an inch from Talbot’s ear. “I don’t want your goddamn files, you sanctimonious piece of shit!”

  She clamped her hands over her mouth and hoped the outburst had not happened for real back in Evan’s bedroom. Neither man so much as blinked.

  “The assets we put into play expected an augmented adversary, as Division 9 is so often wont to employ. I do not know what this woman has implanted in her but it has to be something we have never even seen before. They must have some kind of technology capable of draining the power out of weapons from a distance.”

  “I saw the video.” Lucian drummed his fingers on the desk. “Those men would have been humiliated like school children by an operative. That woman looked like she barely knew which end of the gun to point at them. A Division 9 agent would have fed them their own balls without breaking a sweat. Those fools wouldn’t have known what the hell hit them.”

  Kirsten growled as her choking grip passed through his neck.

  “I don’t know what to say sir. The asset just stopped and stared at her. She is somewhat cute. Have we considered the possibility she has a pheromone system? Not every one of their operatives is combat-trained, she could be a honey pot or one of their cyberspace people.”

  “A Division 9 operative who works alone most certainly would be combat trained, not to mention a doll.” Lucian’s eyebrows flattened. “Something else is going on here, maybe a unit we’ve never heard of.” His fingers stroked his chin. “Pheromones? That could be possible. Try using a female asset, or you could send a man her tricks won’t work on. You do own a weapon, don’t you, Tanaka?”

  The Asian man glowered for an instant, but calmed himself and stared at the desk. “I understand, sir. I will see the matter is taken care of. What of the other issue?”

  I’m not a ‘matter to be taken care of’ you mother― Kirsten seethed.

  “Simulacris tried to recruit him but he never made it to Mars. Find out who he was in talks with there and send them a ‘carefully worded’ message expressing our dismay at their attempt to poach our talent. Also, see to it a competent hacker gets into their network. I want assurances that Motte did not send them anything as a taste of what he had to offer.”

  Astral forms seldom got tired, but Kirsten’s repeated attempts to slap, punch, and choke Lucian made her feel out of breath. She listened to them arrange a contract murder of someone on Mars as well as herself.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about Intera’s business; I’m trying to stop Albert!”

  They could not hear her screaming.

  If this is how new ghosts feel no wonder they’re so damn angry.

  “It does make me wonder.” Lucian spun in his chair to face the window. “Why would the police begin poking around when we start having so many bizarre doll malfunctions?”

  Tanaka’s eyes widened. “Do you think the government is responsible? Perhaps they launched a virus against us as a distraction?”

  “It does make one wonder, doesn’t it?” Lucian rubbed his chin. “It does not matter why the dolls are going crazy; eventually someone will blame Intera for producing questionable products.”

  Of course, that’s it!

  Albert had to be making the Intera dolls flip out to damage the company. Once enough people had been hurt or killed there would be an inquest, not to mention lawsuits. He wanted vengeance for his murder, just at Intera the company rather than a single man.

  “Have it leaked to the Newsnet.” Lucian spun back to face Tanaka. “Drop a hint we have proof the government… no, just say a hacker, has compromised one small production line and introduced a virus. Encourage anyone owning an Intera doll to have it brought in for service.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Make an official press release as well to announce the maintenance check. Be sure to stress the fact we are doing this voluntarily and at no cost to the owner.”

  Tanaka smiled. “You are most wise, sir. Win public opinion before there is even a downturn. It is good to see your wife’s tragic dea
th has not dulled your business sense.”

  Lucian laughed. “The only tragedy in it is some other poor bastard won’t get to enjoy those tits.” He shook his head, smiling. “At least your man came through on that one; and at a mere fraction of what the lawyers would have sucked out of me.” The rest of what he said came mumbled through a fist. “I would have let the gold-digging whore go, but she insisted on taking Marisa.”

  Kirsten deflated. The pall of melancholy surrounding the child in the other room made sense; her mother had been killed, and from the sound of it not too long ago. Tanaka turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving Lucian to gather his things into a briefcase.

  She glided out of the desk, turning as Lucian walked into the rear office and collected his daughter. The child seemed happy to see him, happier still he finally paid attention to her. Kirsten’s emotions dueled between wanting to choke the life out of him and feeling guilty for thinking it. Nauseous contempt welled up in her gut as she watched the girl smile at him.

  You bastard… you had her mother killed.

  Unable to stomach the scene any longer, Kirsten sank through the floor and drifted into the lower parts of the building. Shouting led her to Tanaka in his office two floors down. He screamed at a VidPhone, furious, as the man on the other end had thus far been unable to provide someone capable of killing Kirsten.

  “Tanaka-san, surely you can appreciate that certain risks come hand in hand with subtlety. Dead is easy, but you do want Intera distanced from it, do you not?”

  Kirsten drifted up to the screen and tried to commit the PID of the unknown man to memory.

  Tanaka pounded his desk, voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “This woman will be dead within a day or the initial agreement is voided.”

  “Tanaka-san, the arrangement stipulated forty percent even in the event of―”

  “It stipulated she should already be dead!”

  Several small items clattered to the floor when Tanaka ended the call with a fist on the button. She shivered at the anger in his voice, wondering how much of it she caused compared to how much came from fear of Lucian’s reaction to another failure. She decided to follow him as he stormed out.

  She flew behind his car, struggling to keep it in sight. Not having to obey the laws of solid objects, she cut through buildings, slicing straight lines into his turns until his car came to rest within the roof parking deck of a high-end apartment tower. An orb droid came over, holding an umbrella for him as he walked to the door. Kirsten’s ghostly form followed him, her glow shimmering upon a bright red door decorated with gold engraved numbers: 101-2

  She waited outside, listening, dreading the sound of happy children greeting their father. Only silence reached her ears, not even a dog barked. Kirsten smiled, having nothing to feel guilty about when she confronted him in the morning.

  I had better check the place out, just to be sure.

  irsten leaned her face through the door and peeked around an apartment full of art and decoration that made it look like a slice of ancient Japan. Tanaka’s shadow moved in the darkness, a silhouette gliding upon rice paper partitions past old swords and armor.

  She ventured a foot through the door just as warm hands clamped down on her shoulders and hauled her backwards. A shriek of surprise escaped her as she wriggled away and spun around to the sight of Albert Motte glaring.

  “Albert!” Her eyes brightened as she smiled. “Please… we have to ta―”

  He cut her off with a slap to the face, sending her backwards through the wall. When she regained her senses enough to control movement, she found herself in the bedroom of a couple in the middle of having sex. She looked away from the bed with a mortified gasp and zipped into their living room.

  Kirsten rolled over in midair, still flying backwards, just in time to see Albert’s form burst through the wall in a blast of fog, sending a holographic landscape crashing to the ground. The couple yelled at the sudden noise.

  She held her hands up. “Please, Albert, wait.”

  He blurred into a stream of energy and coalesced right next to her. She doubled over the fist that slammed into her gut and launched her through the ceiling. Two small dogs went berserk as she exuded through the carpet, barking and bouncing around. When Albert followed, they lost their nerve and ran whimpering into the kitchen. Kirsten fled in a circle, trying to distance herself while pleading. He ignored her as he stalked, face wild with eagerness at the unexpected moment of advantage. Kirsten yelped as the tenant came out of a hallway, calling after his dogs, and she flew right into him.

  Her passage went unnoticed; Albert’s made him shiver. She darted into the kitchen, sending the dogs scurrying off yipping. The ghost went through a hollow wall of shelves separating the kitchen from the main room, trying to cut her off. The bleary-eyed tenant screamed as a dozen plates rippled off the shelving and clattered upon the floor with no visible cause. With that, he retreated into his bedroom with a whimpering dog under each arm.

  “You will not stop me.” Albert raked his hands through the air, attempting to overwhelm her with his presence.

  His attack sent scratches of cold and creepy through her body, far from painful. Kirsten recognized the attack, having felt it several times in the past from other wraiths. To a normal, live person that would have chilled the heart and filled the mind with paralyzing terror. To a ghost it might have hurt a lot. To an astral projection, it was a mild tickle.

  Kirsten looked down at herself and smirked. “Was that supposed to do something?”

  He roared.

  “Albert, what would your father say if he knew you killed innocent people just to make Intera suffer?”

  His eyes bulged; face contorting with fury beyond reason.

  “Uh oh.” She cringed.

  Enraged, he lunged and seized her by the throat. They fell in a murderous embrace through several floors as he strangled her, roaring and cursing in German. Her breathing drew short and labored and she clawed at his hands, terrified her real body might suffocate in her sleep.

  Albert could do whatever he wanted to her vulnerable astral form, solid to him and beyond the reach of her other powers. Mounting panic evaporated as she remembered the cord. She reached for where it met her forehead, but he caught her wrist, and sneered.

  “Nein, kleines Mädchen.” He scowled. “I know who you are. I cannot allow you to sto―” His voice trailed off to a squeak.

  His eyes swelled from their sockets as her foot pounded into his crotch with the sound of two steaks slapping together. His grip faltered as he wheezed and crumpled. Before he could realize such pain was only in his mind now, she laced her fingers about the thread of energy and squeezed. Kirsten focused on wanting the warmth of her body around her. Sensation blurred as sound, taste, touch, and sight all became one combined mess for a fleeting second, followed by darkness.

  She found herself face down on dingy green carpet with her head spinning; the scent of it, stale and old, filled her throat. Two tiny bare feet stepped into her field of view. Pushing off the floor, Kirsten looked up at her child self. The girl swayed to and fro, her legs free of dirt and bruises, without any trace of blood or tears upon her perfect dress.

  Kirsten sat up, holding her head in an effort to arrest the vertigo. No mood pervaded the hallway, neither dread nor a feeling of welcome. The little girl leaned forward and embraced her. Kirsten pulled the child into a fierce hug; both spoke at the same time.

  “Thank you.”

  he gentle nudge of a hand brought Kirsten back into the waking world. Harsh light chased away the darkness of the hallway as the scent of her mother’s house changed to the floral presence of cleaning compound. One of the nannies had come over to rouse her after opening the blinds. She squinted at the room, and for an instant thought she had pulled her little self out of the dream.

  Evan slept on top of her in the chair. His pajama top scrunched to his armpits from how she clutched him like a living teddy bear. She could not help but b
rush his hair out of his face as she watched him breathe, finding a few minutes of peace.

  “Is he having trouble sleeping alone?” The nanny leaned in with a hand on her shoulder.

  Kirsten smiled. “No, I think he did this for my benefit. He’s a tough kid.”

  “Aww.” She squeezed Kirsten’s shoulder. “Still having the same nightmare?”

  She exhaled, studying the back of her hand. “It doesn’t scare me anymore.”

  Kirsten tickled Evan awake. He lifted his head and peered through half-closed eyes. She helped him stand and he staggered to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. The look on his face, one eye wider than the other, made Kirsten laugh as she stretched the stiffness of a night spent in a chair out of her limbs.

  “Come on, kid. You’re not supposed to have the ‘I need coffee’ face till you’re at least in your teens.”

  He made a half-aware smile. The nanny took over, motivating him to get ready for his day. After a parting hug, Kirsten stumbled down the hallway. Evan’s expression matched the fog in her head, and she needed a hand on the wall to make it to the fitness center without falling over. The warm caress of a shower brought her the rest of the way to consciousness. Just as she finished getting into uniform, she realized people walked past her while she showered and dressed. She braced for the wave of mortal humiliation, but it did not arrive.

  Old familiar surroundings? Kirsten’s mind replayed the lash shattering the paddle. Or maybe I beat her.

  At a little past six-thirty in the morning, she walked into the empty squad room and added her discoveries from the other night to her notes. She sent the update to Captain Eze about twenty minutes later, just as the first members of her unit arrived.

  Waving her hand through the holographic display panel, she sent the information about Tanaka to the Division 9 liaison. When a corporation thought itself big enough to challenge the police, they cleaned up the mess―after they made it bigger.