Implanted

by Lauren C Teffeau

  I can’t. “But the cost–”

  He sighs. “If you wish to reopen communication with some of your contacts, you must first secure approval from management once you are cleared for active duty.” Which I’m not yet. “Keep in mind some people think they understand what it means to be connected with someone with a high-security clearance, but fail when they’re put to the test.” I’m suddenly aware of just how tightly controlled the sensations he’s broadcasting across our connection have become. As in hardly any. “Sometimes it’s… unfair to ask that of others.”

  His face remains inscrutable, his tone even, but the absence of anything else makes me wonder if he’s speaking from personal experience. Dash said Tahir’s background was in police work. I wonder if something happened to him, a case gone bad or a rough transition when he started working for Aventine. That would explain some things, but does me no good when it comes to Rik or anyone else from my old life.

  “Now, as to Emergence,” Tahir says, briskly, “it’s true your arrangement with Aventine prevents participation in the trial.”

  “But Emergence changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  “You mean what happens if people begin moving out of the city before your contract is up?”

  I nod.

  “Regardless of how New Worth evolves, our services will still be needed. Data security must be maintained while the infrastructure’s being built up. Besides, it’ll take years of coordinated effort until developments like Vesa are truly independent of the city, even if the recent reports about the air quality and soil remediation efforts are accurate.” He flashes me a boyish grin. “I know the idea of Emergence is exciting, but don’t get your hopes up. I’ve lived through a couple of these announcements now, and nothing’s changed. Life will still go on in New Worth and will continue to do so, even once the outside’s habitable.”

  “But all that green beyond the dome cannot be denied.”

  “Maybe not, but it’ll still be waiting for you once your contract’s up. It’s a few years before your time,” he continues, “but you should read up on New Sacrament.” That’s a domed city in California. “They were so eager to push back outside despite the risks, they had too many people they couldn’t support living outside the dome and not enough people inside to keep things up and running.”

  A situation that only got worse when they realized the land wasn’t ready to sustain them.

  Tahir shrugs. “Regardless of what the reports say, the City Council isn’t going to let New Worth make the same mistake.” I can feel him mentally shifting gears. Trading the lecture-y approach for one slightly more playful. “Now, if you’ll indulge me, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Aventine doesn’t have the greatest track record for those.”

  He chuckles. “This is my surprise, not Aventine’s.” He beckons me over to his side.

  “And that’s supposed to make it better?” But I still look over his shoulder, at the video he’s queued up on his touchscreen.

  I get a wave of something across the line, and his amusement drops away. “I took the liberty of looking into your case.”

  That throws me, but only momentarily. “And?”

  “I think I found him.”

  There’s no question as to who he means. A tremor works through me. Not fear. Fury, along with a jolt of anticipation. “Show me.”

  Like magic, he pulls up the live feed of a cramped, crummy little apartment. Dimly lit, walls dirty with the patina of previous tenants, and hardware of all kinds scattered across every available surface. Then the male figure on the couch gets up and stretches his arms overhead with a jaw-cracking yawn. He’s scruffier than I remember, gray peppering his stubble, lanky instead of the hulking monster he turned into in that alley. I don’t know how Tahir managed it.

  “That him?”

  I can only nod.

  Tahir goes completely still next to me. Synching. “Keep watching,” he tells me distractedly.

  I force myself to look upon the man who tried to steal my implant and ended up taking something even more valuable from me.

  His head suddenly rears up, and a police officer bursts into his apartment. Another police officer follows, and in seconds my attacker is marched out of there in magnetic handcuffs.

  Tahir studies my face. “I called in a couple of favors with some old associates of mine. Turns out he’s wanted in almost a dozen cases. The combined sentences will put him away for a long time.”

  Tahir did all this for me?

  “I can tell you his name, about his personal life…”

  “No,” I say with a shake of my head. “Not yet. I need time to process all this.”

  “Very well.” His eyes close briefly. “I just sent you the sealed case file for you to look at when you’re ready.”

  In truth, I’m not sure when that will be. Just knowing he’s caught might be enough without having to dwell on the details of such a small, cruel man. I don’t want to waste any more of my emotional bandwidth on him if I can help it. But at least I’ll have Tahir’s file to fall back on if I can’t. I store it in one of my rarely accessed directories.

  “What’s wrong?” Tahir asks gently. “I thought this would please you.”

  “Oh, it does. Immensely. I cannot thank you enough for…” I wave at the now-dark screen. “How did you find him?”

  “I wasn’t half bad as a profiler before Aventine secured my services,” he says with a self-deprecating shrug. “In addition to courier oversight, I help identify potential candidates.”

  I shake my head. “I never had a choice, did I.” Not if Tahir can close a years-old cold case in mere days.

  A slight grimace contorts his face. “You always had a choice. Just not very good options.”

  For the next week, training sessions are interspersed with actual forays into the city. Sometimes I accompany other couriers on a job, learning by example. Other times, Tahir will assign me a destination, and I’ll have to make it there before one of the other couriers catches up to me – in a reverse of my expedition with Kat.

  The relentless pace of training nearly succeeds in drowning out the insistent voice in my head that the old Emery wouldn’t abandon her friends or family so easily, regardless of the circumstances. But there’s no denying my work for Aventine’s an escape from my conscience. Just like my implant helped me escape from the realities of the Terrestrial District growing up.

  A willful sort of blindness to cope with things out of my control.

  Two days later, Tahir comes to my quarters bright and early. I don’t bother to hide my scowl as I admit him. “What is it today? Sparring? Simulations?” More lies of omission for my own good?

  He shakes his head, a slight tremor of anticipation vibrating along our connection. “No. Instead, you’ve been assigned your very first courier job.”

  “Oh.”

  “What’s this? No sarcastic remark? No frowny face?”

  “Give me time. It’s still early.”

  Tahir chuckles and props himself on a bar stool. Our dynamic’s grown easier since he helped tidy up my unfinished business in the Terrestrial District. If I doubted his commitment before, I don’t now. “For your first mission, you’ll be shepherding data for one of our government clients. The Department of Economic Development’s main office is located in the Canopy, but the data drop’s in the Terrestrial District.”

  The Terrestrial District again? It’s been over a week since Kat and I went down there, but I’m not eager to return. Tahir gives me a knowing look. “Like blood, you need to get used to operating dirtside.” Despite what most people in the upper levels think, most of the Terrestrial District’s covered by concrete or asphalt. Only below that do you actually find dirt. “Aventine does not discriminate. We have clients operating out of every level of New Worth.”

  “They’re too cheap to get a direct line between the physical sites?”

  Tahir glances my way. “Do you have any idea how many permits would be required to
run a dedicated cable from the Canopy to the Terrestrial District?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, it’s expensive. Prohibitively so. The construction costs alone would be…” He shakes his head. “Not to mention the labor required to keep miles of line in good working order, secure from surveillance and vandalism.”

  “I get it. And I guess it doesn’t make sense to invest in New Worth’s infrastructure if the dome’s going to come down anyway.”

  “That remains to be seen. The Vesa housing development won’t be complete for another couple of weeks, and then its inhabitants need to live there independently for at least a year – though some are arguing for a longer trial period in keeping with the efforts of some of the other domed cities. As a result, the timeline for Emergence for everyone else is still yet-to-be-determined, with many adopting a wait-and-see attitude.” He winks. “It also means business is booming.”

  Makes sense. We might have the ecosystem back in some semblance of working order, but without infrastructure – plumbing, power, communication networks – we’ll be doomed before things even get underway. A government taskforce has started planning how to expedite the process, in secret of course, assuming Vesa succeeds.

  And Aventine’s on hand to facilitate communication between stakeholders.

  But in a way, everyone is a stakeholder. Including the Disconnects who’ve gotten increasingly vocal since the announcement, fearing they’re being left out of the process. Reports of pop-up demonstrations have become practically a daily occurrence as the lottery drawing creeps closer.

  On our way out, we pick up the hemocrypt kit for today’s job. Similar to the scrubbing kit, in convenient briefcase size. <
  I glance at Tahir out of the corner of my eye. >>Will you babysit me the whole way every time, or is today special?>>

  A grin struggles against his otherwise sober expression. <
  >>I already know about the party. Kat let it slip the other day.>> She has made it her mission to get me up to speed on the more social aspects of Aventine.

  He arches his brow. <
  We make our way to the lifts, queuing up behind other business types tapping their feet or endlessly adjusting their gloves as the different carriages fill up and launch skyward. Five minutes later we’re ascending ourselves. My ears pop as we pass the levels for the Lower Canopy, then, as the lift reaches Level 10, Tahir indicates we’re next. The middle levels of the Canopy are Corporate Central. Of course the Department of Economic Development would want to be located near the city’s more successful businesses. Sliding doors off the concourse lead into the Department’s modest atrium.

  “We have an appointment,” Tahir announces to the receptionist sitting behind a long console desk. She has light brown skin like me. An intricate set of braids frame her face. Most certainly mods but stylish ones. I feel drab in comparison with my hair simply brushed back from my face and my plain Aventine-issued clothes. All the better to blend in, I suppose. I can just imagine Brita’s upturned nose at that.

  “One moment, please,” the receptionist says, even as her eyes roll back into her head, presumably an eyecast command to alert whoever’s waiting for us that we’re here. After a moment, she straightens. “Right this way.”

  >>Will it always be offices like this?>> The secretary takes us down a hallway, past doors with brass nametags, shut tight. Portraits of past department secretaries line the walls, each having served the city for a two-year term. My father always grumbled that wasn’t time enough to do anything worthwhile once appointees got staffed up and fully briefed on their role and responsibilities. Maybe for the other parts of the city, but certainly not the lower levels.

  <
  >>And for clients above my clearance?>>

  His stride falters a second. <
  Past an empty conference room, the hall terminates at another office for Joan Sheridan, aide to the secretary of Economic Development. The receptionist gives it a quick rap, and moments later the door swings open to admit us.

  A fortyish white woman greets us. Sheridan must be a high-ranking aide considering the spacious office. Brittle blonde hair brushes her shoulders and an assessing glint lights up her blue eyes as she looks us over. “You must be with Aventine,” she says in a nasally voice.

  Tahir nods and gestures to the briefcase with a snap of his wrist and a flourish of his gloved fingers.

  “Well, come on then.” Unceremoniously, she clears a space on a small worktable adjacent to her desk. Tahir places the case on it. Inside, one half of the case is crammed full of processors. The other side’s preloaded with a small pouch of my blood and the actual hemocrypt unit, which has a slot for data input from the client. The attached empty pouch will be filled with encrypted blood at the end of the process.

  The blood I’ll then have to inject into my body.

  I feel her watching me as Tahir turns the unit on. He waves her forward, and she inserts a datakey into the slot preloaded with whatever info I’m supposed to transfer. With a chime and a chugging whoosh, the hemocryption gets underway.

  “I have to prepare for a briefing for the secretary this afternoon,” she says to Tahir, her tone resonant with command. “I’ll be in the next room. Ping me before you leave.”

  “Of course,” Tahir says.

  Ten minutes later, the empty bag of blood is filled. My turn. Tahir gestures for me to take a seat. I’m suddenly glad Sheridan isn’t here to witness this part. Doesn’t seem to be the type to tolerate squeamishness or really any hint of incompetence. With a slow exhale, I push up my sleeve. Tahir fits the medical cuff around my right arm and lines up the injector to the needle slot.

  I close my eyes. I’ve simulated this a dozen times. The way the cuff clips around my forearm, the brief pinch of pain as the needle finds my vein. The cold burn as the encoded blood fills me. After a minute, it’s all over. The cuff disengages, and I unsteadily get out of the chair.

  Tahir busies himself with putting the case to rights. “That should do it.”

  Sheridan returns and pockets the datakey she provided. With a nod to me, she sends me the address and location code for the drop, an apartment complex along the perimeter of the Terrestrial District. Clients can choose to keep my final destination a secret from Aventine if that makes them more comfortable. Security feature. But apparently that’s not necessary for today’s job.

  “Got it. Anything else I need to know?” Both Tahir and the woman shake their heads. She taps her foot impatiently as Tahir bids her a good day. She shuts her door with a crisp snap behind us, eager to get on with the rest of her morning.

  Tahir accompanies me back out to the concourse. “You know how to reach me.”

  “Right.” Pushing down the sudden wave of nerves, I start down the walkway. If all goes well today, I’ll join the ranks of active couriers. I’ll also have to decide just how badly I want to reconnect with my friends and family. A question I keep cycling through on an infinite loop.

  Risk. Reward. The selfish need to quash the bone-deep loneliness of an empty mind. The crushing guilt at the unforgivable pain I’ve already caused. And the queasy knowledge I’d do it all over again.

  “M?” Tahir calls after me. “Don’t be late.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A half hour later, I’m waiting for a lift down to the Terrestrial District. Unlike the section I visited the other day with Kat, the apartment complex is located on t
he outskirts in a more industrialized area of town. Rougher crowd, too.

  Even though I’m not thrilled at descending to terra firma, I have to remember I’m way better equipped to face it now than when I was actually living there. Evasion and defensive skills to scare off the street urchins, and clothing that’ll zap anyone who wants to get too friendly with a young woman unescorted.

  How bad can it be? But as the lift closes, and it travels downward, I wish Kat were making this trip with me. On the other side of the glass doors, the light wanes until it’s nearly dark, leaving only the glow of the elevator’s operating lights.

  So long as I get past the crush at the base of the lifts, I’ll be fine. Pinch points like this are prime targets of roving gangs. I’m used to the gauntlet though, and it helps that what I’m carrying is inside me, not something that can be easily stripped from my person. At least I don’t scream victim like the two guys who got on the elevator with me in the Canopy. Looking for cheap thrills? Or maybe they just want to feel morally superior for a few minutes as they take in the local color. Either way, I’m pretty sure they’ve never seen dirt – the slight curl of their lips gives them away.

  “Terrestrial District, Northwest Sector,” the lift intones as the doors open.

  I let the two gentlemen go ahead of me – anyone watching the lifts will see them as easy pickings. That’s something Tahir taught me once. If you can’t avoid attention, try to set up an unwitting decoy. Then I ease myself into the crowd, stick to the shadows, and don’t make eye contact with anyone.

  When I was tailing Kat, the Terrestrial District got in my head with an ease I never expected. Today, I’m better prepared for the memories clamoring for attention, along with the stench of too many bodies, frying oil, and sewage. Thanks to all my training, I’m more confident in how to handle myself. To evade, to defend, to hurt if I have to. A heady feeling I’ve yet to grow tired of.

  Tahir’s words come to mind, about rewriting my reactions to stimuli. Starting today, I vow. Most people pay me no mind as I travel past market stands selling secondhand goods and leftover produce. Past carts selling knockoff Canopy brands and greasy street foods. Troops of children, who should be in school but for some reason aren’t, dart down the alleyways, all shrieks and laughter.