Randall catches my eye. “So presumably your government client wanted to update the registry with the information in the patch. And whoever ambushed you must’ve wanted to prevent the update from happening.”
“Makes sense, but why the registry?”
“And why is everyone working so hard for it to be kept secret?”
Geeta toggles open a new window. “Here’s a record I was able to reconstruct by pattern-matching the registry’s fields and populating it with the patch’s raw data.” The patch’s data fields overlay the live database.
“Huh. Not obvious what the difference is. Maybe the big changes we can’t see because of the hidden fields.”
Randall leans forward. “Weird. If the patch’s updating the live version, then someone must have compromised the public registry in the first place.”
“Or maybe the government’s the one compromising the integrity of the registry with this patch,” Geeta offers.
“They could be,” I say, “but my money’s on the people at the ambush being up to no good, not the other way around.” The government took a lot of precautions with this job, it’s true, but the folks at the ambush were playing for keeps. “Just wish we could access the hidden fields to be sure.”
“There’s something else,” Geeta says. “Look. Most of these records are for known Disconnects. We might be looking at a small subset, but that can’t be random, can it?”
Randall swears. “That explains your Disconnect tail at the drop. They must’ve gotten wind of the transaction somehow. They’ve always feared their records could be tampered with. Now it looks like someone made their fears reality.”
“And then there’s that attack on the government storage facility. You told me yourself it contained valuable information,” I say to Randall. “Maybe the explosion was targeting the originals kept there.”
He nods. “Without proof, it’d be impossible for them to fight the changes.”
“But why now?”
“With Emergence and the Vesa trial shaking things up, maybe someone saw this as an opportunity to make the changes to the registry. Or not. Without knowing more, all we really know is the government’s patch is focused on updating Disconnects’ records. And there’re at least two other interested parties. Not counting your work.”
“All right,” I say, starting to pace. “Let’s say the government’s trying to fix the registry. How was it compromised in the first place?”
Geeta looks thoughtful. “Well, whoever did this would need librarian permission, but to pull this off without notice?”
Randall starts to pace. “They’d have to go slow. Say, a record at a time?”
I nod. “Probably wouldn’t be enough activity to draw notice.” I feel sick to my stomach. But this time it’s not the curdle, at least not wholly. That someone could do this and get away with it? Unthinkable.
“But aren’t there protections in place to ensure data integrity?” Geeta asks.
“Of course. Log-ins, permissions, file redundancies…” I tick them off on my fingers as though taking an oral exam. “Curators take provenance very seriously. Standard data practices dictate data never leaves the network servers – that way the access logs capture any and all activity. But clearly they can be forged with enough time and effort.”
Randall whistles. “So whoever did this could reasonably assume if they managed to change the live database, circumventing the standard data practices in place, no one would be the wiser.”
“Law of Digital Recency.” The words pop out of my mouth. No one would look closer at the data if there wasn’t any reason to, allowing whoever masterminded all this to fly under the radar.
“This is bad, and we don’t even know what the changes to the registry actually do. But just the hint of manipulated records combined with all the unrest…” Randall shakes his head. “This’ll be the last straw for the Disconnects. Enough to galvanize the fence-sitters and the pacifists into action.” He would know.
Geeta holds up her hands. “All right, you two are seriously creeping me out.”
I turn to her. “If we’re right and the registry’s been compromised,” I gesture to the screen still hanging in the air on pinpoints of light, “then I’m carrying the only accurate version in my blood. And someone’s working very hard to make sure no one finds out about it.”
“So you’re some kind of secret agent?”
“No,” I say at the same time Randall says, “Yes.” He catches my eye, and I have to turn away at the challenge in his gaze.
Geeta raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”
“Look, it’s complicated, OK? But you’ve been an amazing help. There’s no way we would’ve figured this out without you.”
“So what do we do now?” she asks.
“You turn over the data to us and disappear for a few days. Call in sick to work, whatever you have to do,” Randall says.
“We don’t want you caught up in this any more than you are.” I glance at Randall. “We’ll figure out the rest.”
“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”
“No one knows about you,” I say. “So long as it stays that way, you’ll be fine. Randall will be in touch when it’s safe to resurface.”
She sighs. “If that’s what you think is best. Good thing I’m too tired to argue.”
“Then we’ll get going.” Randall stands, and I follow suit.
“Yes, of course,” Geeta says, and turns to him. “But I’d like to talk to your friend here before you go. Alone.”
I don’t know who’s more surprised, me or Randall. But he dutifully goes to wait outside, leaving me alone with his colleague who’s suddenly dropped all pretense of friendliness based on the dark look in her eyes as she stares me down. “I’ve already destroyed all the physical samples,” she says in clipped tones. “The decrypted database patch is all that’s left. You still have the touchscreen?”
“Yes.” I dig it out of my satchel and hand it over.
Geeta transfers over the patch and holds the touchscreen out to me in return. She doesn’t relinquish her grip, even when my fingers close over the casing. “I should hate you for what you’ve done to him. You must be the infamous Liv. The one who nearly singlehandedly sent him into an emotional tailspin a few months ago. The only one who could put him up to all this.”
“I… guess so.” It’s as accurate a description as anything else.
Her face wavers with old pain as she finally lets go of the touchscreen. “When you pulled your disappearing act… Well, let’s just say it was rough going for a while for everyone in his life.”
And she was on the front lines. Randall said he’d scaled things back with all his contacts after Aventine severed our connection. The emotional bleed must’ve been overwhelming regardless of what level of permissions she had. “I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say I had no choice.”
“I figured. Whoever could do that to your blood has a long reach. But even though you’ve magically reappeared, Randall’s still miserable.” She gives me a pointed look. “And so are you.”
“There’s just a lot going on right now,” I say dismissively, ready to bolt.
She snorts. “Both of you look like you’re dying from the inside out.”
“Aww, thanks. When I’m not running for my life, I’ll look into that.” I turn to go. There’s nothing she can say that I haven’t already blamed myself for.
“I mean it. You’re supposed to be everything to him, and yet–”
I swing back to her. “What? Is this the part where you tell me I don’t deserve him? That you’d happily step in? That’s why you’ve been oh-so-helpful this whole time, no matter the risk to your career, right? Because it was Randall who came to you. Well, don’t worry.” I don’t bother to hide my bitterness. “When this is over, he’s all yours again. I screwed up, and there’s no going back to what we could’ve had. So you can just relax.”
Saying the words out loud is surprisingly more painful than just
thinking them. But it isn’t as if our connection hasn’t been on life support this whole time. I guess dreams are harder to kill off.
Geeta presses her lips together, composing herself. “He’s made it clear he’s only interested in my friendship. And I respect that,” she finally says, albeit stiffly. “But when you left, I lost him too, up here.” She taps her temple.
“Join the club.”
“He’s considering having it removed.” She’s dead serious, her voice even and deliberate.
“You’re joking,” I say, even as the cold bite of fear creeps up my spine. Randall would never get rid of his implant, would he?
“He has a friend in the Underground,” Geeta continues.
“Charon.” When I was in his workshop, he treated me with inexplicable familiarity. At the time I thought it a character quirk. But he must’ve known all about me if Randall told him why he was thinking about disconnecting.
“If you hadn’t popped up again when you did, he would have done it. Said it was the only way he could cope with having you gone.” Her hands flutter helplessly. “No one could convince him otherwise.”
“I didn’t realize. I thought…”
No, I was only thinking about me, my own pain and insecurities. I always assumed Randall would be better off without me. That thinking’s what got me through each day I spent working for Aventine. But I never dreamed he’d go to such lengths to forget what we were to each other and what we could’ve become. He must’ve known Disconnects who’d done the same and were better off for it. Our relationship might be permanently damaged, but if coming back has stayed him from making such an irrevocable decision, I can’t regret that, no matter what happens in less than twenty-four hours.
“Well, now you know.” Geeta’s unflinching gaze roots me to the spot. “And now I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Randall detaches himself from a wisteria-draped column. “All set?”
Nothing in his face hints at the curiosity he must feel at being excluded from my conversation with Geeta. Or the devastation that drove him to seek out Charon to disconnect. But if I go back through my cache, focus on those bright brief moments when our connection was restored, I can pick out glimpses of his anger and hurt that leaked through, suggesting more lives beneath the surface. What does it cost him to even be in my presence?
We file out of the apartment complex. “We need some place to plan,” I say. “Maybe a public workspace, or we could camp out in one of the gardens…”
“Or you could come with me.”
I’m more accustomed to hearing the familiar voice in my head whenever I’m out in the wild. My steps slow as I scan the concourse, suddenly afraid of what I’ll find.
Tahir detaches himself from where he’s been standing in the shadows of a restaurant awning, and despite my better instincts I freeze. My brain tells me to run, but the rest of me is inordinately glad to see him. Even if I can’t tell from his closed expression if things are about to go from bad to worse.
“What’s going on? Who is this guy?” Randall asks.
“He’s my handler.”
Tahir strides over, clearly expecting us to follow him without fuss.
Randall clenches his fists but otherwise keeps his reaction under control as we join the current down the concourse. Morning crowds bustle around us. <
I battle back surprise at Randall’s sudden synch message. I wasn’t sure when or if he’d try to reconnect, but I’m grateful, even if it’s out of an overabundance of caution when it comes to Tahir. >>No. He’s come to help, I’m almost certain.>>
Rik eases back on the emotional filter, letting me know just what he thinks about that.
>>I didn’t bring him here, I promise.>>
His disapproval eases to just a prickle along the back of my neck. But that he willingly resumed our connection gives me hope. Maybe we can fix things between us, in time.
Just not right now. Not with the way Tahir’s surveilling the concourse, regardless of how discreet he’s being. “How are you feeling?” he asks, deceptively casual as he leads us out of Geeta’s neighborhood to a set of escalators that will take us to the level below.
“Forty-two hours and counting.” I catch his brief frown. “How’d you find us–”
“I’ve been monitoring your friend’s contacts just in case.” Which led him to Geeta, and now to us. He glances over at Randall. “You’re Randall Iverson-Kemp? You’ve changed your ID. Good.”
“Did you come alone?” I barely restrain the urge to glance back the way we came.
Tahir chuckles and uses the motion to scan the area. “That was my intention. Not a guarantee. Turns out what you’re carrying’s pretty important.”
“We know,” Randall says, looking angry and anxious all at once.
Tahir grimaces. Catching my eye, he tips his head toward Randall. “Can you trust him?”
I don’t look at Randall when I say, “With my life.”
“Hmm.” Tahir turns right and directs us toward a grubby, half-empty diner. We slide into a booth near the back, away from the windows overlooking the concourse. As if he has all the time in the world, Tahir orders coffee and eggs, using the table’s menu console. Finally, he looks up. “By the time I’m done eating, a government taskforce will have arrived on the concourse.”
I nearly jump out of my seat.
“Relax, M. We have a few minutes. And I still have a few more tricks up my sleeve.”
“You have to understand. Those people at the drop were all wrong.” I tell him about how they cut off my implant, the gun, how cavalierly the woman shot the man with the tattoo. “How could I have stayed there?”
He puts his elbows on the table and tents his fingers. “You did the right thing, M. Up to a point. After reviewing the footage, it looks like this job was much bigger than we were led to believe. In fact, they even set up two decoys to throw whoever was watching off your trail.” The guys with the surgically attached briefcases I saw leaving City Hall. “When you were in the market, someone got close enough to mimic your signal somehow, which is why I thought you were miles away from your actual location. The client was fooled too.”
“What do they think happened?”
Tahir frowns. “They aren’t saying, at least not to me out of concern for where my loyalties lie.”
Me versus Aventine. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised it’s come to this.
Tahir’s gaze flicks to Randall, then back to me. “But I’m guessing the data’s related to the Disconnects somehow.” Randall stiffens in surprise next to me, but he should know by now that Aventine only takes the best. “It’s the only thing that explains that man at the Aquarium,” Tahir continues. “But as to who was masquerading as the client? I don’t know. But if they worked that hard to get their hands on the data the first time, you can bet they’ll try again.”
Randall’s gaze goes to me. <
>>And if it is the second option, is it out of the goodness of their hearts or do they want to see the city implode?>>
Questions without answers, including what Tahir’s intentions are. He taps the table with his index finger. “If you come in now, you’ll be disciplined for aborting an op, and your blood will be scrubbed, regardless of what you’re carrying, per Aventine’s terms of service.”
“Disciplined? Does that entail wiping my implant and leaving me to rot in the Terrestrial District? Because that’s not much of an incentive.”
“No. You have my word on that, M.”
“She’s not coming in. At least not yet,” Randall says quietly, but the menace in his voice raises the hairs on my forearms.
Tahir turns to him, assessing as always. I almost wish Tahir and I were connected again, just to get a hint at what his impressions are. “Obviously, it’s not an easy decision
. But if you’re going to… What are you going to do?”
Randall inhales sharply. “It’s probably best not to tell you, what with that government taskforce and all…”
Tahir grimaces. “Right. Well, keep in mind the client’s fighting us on the automatic destruction of the data, which means…”
“They want it back?”
Tahir nods. A waitress brings over his breakfast. My stomach lurches as the smells wash over me. “However, the curdle needs to be your primary concern, regardless of what you decide to do with the data.” He takes a luxuriant sip of coffee and dabs his mouth with his napkin. “Remember your walkabout?”
How could I forget? Even though I’ve completed dozens and dozens of jobs for Aventine, that one’s still relatively fresh in my mind. Pickup in the transitional Understory, data drop two days later. There was some confusion on how I’d be scrubbed because the kit hadn’t arrived on time. Aventine arranged for a kit in an empty apartment for afterwards, but by the time I got to the drop the original scrubbing kit had been delivered thanks to the perseverance of the New Worth mail service, and everything that followed went as smoothly as it could.
Well, until Randall showed up.
Tahir waits for me to puzzle it out. My eyes widen. “How did you manage that?” Normally a secure scrubbing location would be decommissioned after use, but since it ultimately wasn’t needed, it wasn’t dismantled. And with Tahir pulling the strings, maybe, just maybe, the rest of Aventine lost track of it.
He gives me a wink. “After all this is over, perhaps I’ll tell you.”
“If you two are done reminiscing, we really should get going,” Randall cuts in.
Tahir ignores him, and I half-expect Randall to reach across the table and throttle him. “Funny story about the woman who owns this place,” Tahir says. “Back when I was a detective for the police force, I helped break up a fight.” He points to the corner. “Right over there, in fact. Nearly took out her front window. To thank me, she invited me to her quarters upstairs. Lovely studio apartment with a terrace backing on to one of the largest vertical farms in the city. Recently suspended operations because their workforce went on strike, so I understand.”
Implanted Page 25