The Hands We're Given

by O E Tearmann

  He desperately wished he wasn't saying this out loud. He couldn't believe he'd brought home a girl who hacked apart their system because she got bored. He felt like the guy who brought home a kitten and found it eating the couch.

  The heavy man stared at him, black brows raised.

  "You're telling me this girl hacked the best encryptions we've got. To change fonts."

  Aidan cleared his throat. "Um, according to her, our encryptions have some holes."

  She'd actually said the whole system was a piece of shit and they were a bunch of asshats for using it, and she'd gotten into it with nothing but a personal tab. She could see anything she wanted at this point, and that was fucking terrifying. But Aidan wasn't going to tell the man that.

  The man who was still staring at him.

  "Apparently," Magnum stated, the word hanging in the air.

  Sighing, the sector commander set down the papers. "Well. Sit down already, Headly. I'm tired of watching you stand there."

  Aidan took a seat, watching his sector commander's face. The older man watched him right back, impassive. Aidan worked to keep his breathing even.

  "I guess you found the perfect hacker for the Wildcards. She's going to fit right in." Magnum had a way of stating things so gravely that they seemed to hang there after he'd fallen silent.

  "Yes, sir." Aidan wasn't sure whether that comment was supposed to be good or not, really, but he didn't want to find out right now. If Magnum was going to ball him out, he'd do it when he wanted. All Aidan had to do was wait.

  Magnum studied the slick paperwork, holding it inches from his fleshy nose. "According to this she's seventeen? And her friend is eighteen?"

  "That's what they tell us, sir. But Tweak changed her age in one hack. Originally, she said sixteen. She made it seventeen."

  The heavy set man leaned back, crossing his arms. He stared at Aidan long enough to make his throat go dry.

  "Do you know why I encouraged Paul Taylor to put a base like the Wildcards together, Headly?"

  Aidan really hated open ended questions like that. What the hell was he supposed to say? "Um, no, sir" sounded stupid and "why don't you tell me?" sounded snarky.

  He stuck with the good underling answer.

  "Sir?"

  The man across the desk smirked. "You know, if you say 'sir' one more time like you're an idiot, I'm going to start believing you."

  Aidan wished he could close his eyes. Was there anything he could say right?

  "You don't actually believe a nut-bin like the Wildcards came together accidentally, do you?" The man's dark face creased in a smirk.

  Aidan swallowed hard. "I don't know, sir."

  Commander Magnum sighed. Flicking his screens away, he stood, studying the pic screens hung on his wall. Aidan watched the man's back and gripped the arms of the chair.

  "I had two reasons for letting Paul handpick his crew and run his base his own way," Commander Magnum stated eventually, his voice a quiet rumble. "Every organization needs somewhere where the rules are loose, because that's where innovation happens. And I was right. We've gotten more ideas out of the first generation at the 1407 base than most, and the second generation is exceeding them. Specialist Faiz and Doctor Coson's idea with using Synth for faking biometrics? That's going to save lives. Most bases across America are working with Danvers' water algorithms and equipment designs. And I had a theory to test there, too. There's been two decommissions, one disciplinary transfer, and zero suicides in eight years on Base 1407. You know the average, Headly?"

  "No sir?" Aidan asked, wondering where the hell this was going and hoping it wasn't going to be a discussion about his own depression. He'd had it under control so well lately, even without meds. It had only flared up a little here and there. It had been so good that he'd actually stopped thinking about it for a few weeks. Had that ever happened before?

  Was Magnum going to call him out on all that now? Why?

  "Three decommissions and a suicide per base, per year," the man stated slowly. "Your base has lower combat death rates, too, and personnel wait longer to sign up for a slot in a retirement base. You've had zero friendly fire incidents." Magnum turned finally, looking at Aidan with weariness in his eyes. "I wanted to prove my point, and so did Paul. The Force is still clinging onto what we remember of military thought from a century ago, but we aren't living like the soldiers back then did, Headly. We don't get standard-issue people out here. We get whoever comes to us, and we need to work with that and stop trying to turn everyone into a traditional soldier. You were born Duster. Your dad was a base commander, right? You've seen how it is."

  Aidan jerked his head in one brief nod. Oh, he'd seen how it was. His father, the bastard who'd almost driven him to suicide, was one reason he'd hated this idea of being a commander himself. He was never going to be like that.

  "We raise our kids as soldiers," Magnum continued. "We tell people that they can't depend on anything and are going to die tomorrow, and we lose them regularly because they buy it. We can't treat our people the way the old government treated its soldiers. When we treat each recruit like a unique asset, find the best fit for them, let them connect with and-yes, I'm going to say it-care about the people they serve with, they fight hard. Which is why I wanted the Wildcards formed, and why I stopped letting Sector Personnel dick around and handpicked you to lead them. Your base is my proof of concept now that it's back on track."

  "Yes, sir," Aidan agreed, sticking with the easiest answer. Everything that had just been dumped on him was going to take days to process. Aidan couldn't believe he'd heard half of it.

  Magnum trained his dark eyes like scopes across the desk. "You say that like you don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

  Aidan drew a breath. "I don't want to be disrespectful, sir, but… Yeah. I don't know what you want me to say here."

  Finally, his superior smiled, pointing a meaty finger. "See, that's the guy I recruited. The honest one."

  Aidan blinked. "So, I'm doing this right, I guess?"

  Magnum quirked a brow. "Once you get this coder with the program, you mean? The Wildcards aren't back on their old numbers yet, you've still got a ways to go. I want to see more missions run successfully. I want to see your intra-base interactions come back with a lot fewer complaint reports, and I want those requisitions numbers up. But since you took them from pranking every other Duster and no missions to this? Yeah, Headly. You're getting back up there."

  He carefully stacked the papers Aidan had printed for him, giving them a disbelieving smile as he did.

  Aidan cleared his throat. "Sir? May I ask a question?"

  "You can always ask, Headly," the older man replied, a smile toying with the corners of his lips. "Only question is will you get an answer."

  Aidan drew a breath. "What actually happened with Taylor? I know what the reports say, that he got cancer and died. But on base the guys start talking about him and then they'll quit like they did something out of line and shut down on me. Do I need to know anything?"

  "That's something you need to ask your people," the sector commander replied on a sigh. "Though I thought you'd get it by now. Here's a hint: when Paul was dying he told me 'my kids are going to be asses for a while, Ben, 'til they figure out this isn't on them. Slap them around for me but don't take it personally'."

  "On… them?" Aidan asked slowly, but the older man adroitly turned the conversation as he stored the paperwork.

  "I notice you haven't asked about your commission incentives." Glancing up at the expression Aidan was working so hard to keep neutral, he frowned. "Your surgical procedures, Headly?"

  "Sir?"

  "I've got you listed. First one is in six months, the second in eight. Still scheduling the third one. the only specialist in the Co-Wy has a long list and a lot to watch out for. That going to work for you?"

  Aidan started. H
e couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

  Scheduled. After all this. After his dad's garbage. All these years. All this fighting.

  He'd done it.

  He was on the list.

  "Well, Headly? That work for you?"

  Aidan stood so fast that he knocked his chair and had to catch it before it fell.

  "Yes, yes, sir!" He cleared his throat, saluting. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

  That night, he lay in bed and grinned at the ceiling.

  This was really happening. He was finally going to get his body fixed. He was finally going to stop looking in other people's eyes and hating the version of himself he saw there. He was going to prove his dad and Sam and all the bastards who said he was crazy wrong.

  He was going to be a real-

  The klaxxon blare of an alarm brought him awake with a yelp, adrenaline coursing through his system as the night-cycle lights flashed back into brilliant day-cycle.

  And that wasn't a proximity alarm. That was a Shelter-In-Place alarm. That was worse.

  His stomach tied itself in a knot and crawled up his throat as he fought his binder, stuffed his packer down his pants, yanked on a shirt and ran out the door, still pulling on his gun belt.

  The hall was bedlam. Kevin was already in a flat sprint for the code rig, Janice right behind him.

  Lazarus's favorite gun click-clacked beside Aidan's ear. "Commander, you want us on look out?" the tow-headed man asked, Sarah tense beside him.

  "Wait. Two seconds." Aidan stated as calmly as he could. Pulling up his tab, he read the warning on the lock screen, and felt his guts squeeze in on themselves.

  Their slick tarps had rejected a new software update, and it had caused a cascade in the system. The things had switched off. They were sitting completely exposed. He forced himself to raise his head, meeting Lazarus's eyes. Sarah nodded behind him.

  "I'll get the mortars out. We can get at least a couple drones down before they touch us."

  "Okay," Aidan agreed. "Okay, let's check the proximities." Feverishly, he brought up the drone flight patterns on his tab and flicked the holographic screen on. The layout and the numbers hovered in the air.

  Aidan's eyes flicked over them. "We've got three hours, starting now, before the next drone is gonna pass over. Okay! Everybody!" he added, raising his voice. "Anybody not on coding duty get insulating stuff and cover up anything warm and any spots where light can leak. If the tarps aren't up by then, we'll get under stuff in the canteen to hide our heat signatures. I-"

  "What the f-fuck was t-t-that?" a voice shrieked down the hall, and Tweak came clomping out, oversized boots trailing their laces. She'd forgotten her coat. She stood in baggy pants, a tank top and ace bandages that wrapped her arms from hand to shoulder, shivering and yelling in a voice that hurt the ears. "The f-f-fuck?! The f-f-fuck w-w-was that?"

  Aidan nodded curtly to Sarah and Lazarus with a muttered, "Get out there and be safe," before turning to his newest recruits, trying to dredge up a smile that felt like it would crack his face. "Sorry, girls. Our slick tarps went down. We'll get it sor- Wait." He blinked, then smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Shit, I'm a fucking idiot. Tweak. Think you can give us a hand getting the programming fixed up?"

  Around them, people ran with handfuls of heat sink bots, blackout tape, blankets to throw over everything that might give them away from above. In the middle of the hall, Tweak glared at him. "I fix it, then I can s-s-sleep? Show me."

  "God damn it! I thought we'd synced the software and hardware patches this time," Kevin was snarling as he typed, Janice working grim and silent beside him when Aidan stepped in.

  Both of them were a mess. Janice was still in something shapeless she used for pajamas and her boots were unlaced. Kevin's unbrushed hair stood up like flames and he hadn't bothered with a shirt. His gun belt was slung around a bare torso.

  "Don't have space for looky-loos," Janice snapped in irritation.

  "Then you get out." Tweak retorted sharply, looking over her shoulder, then Kevin's. She snorted. "Shitheads. Move. Lemme sit."

  Janice glanced up and opened her mouth to protest, but Aidan caught her eye and shook his head, jerking a thumb at the girl. Grumbling under her breath, she levered herself out of her chair and motioned for Tweak to take it. "Fine. Rather everybody blame you when we fuckin' die anyway."

  Tweak dropped into the chair, pulled the keypad closer, and started to type. A moment later, she pulled a second monitor interface closer, spreading a handful of windows out across both. She typed with one hand, touching the screens and dragging windows into new configurations, never looking down. Never blinking either, Aidan noticed. That was creepy.

  "Hah!" Tweak laughed, and the sound was loud as a gunshot after the tense silence. "Bastard. Gotcha!"

  "Commander!" Jim yelled down the hall. "We gotta have it up by one! Next drone pass in three hours!"

  "I know!" Aidan shouted back. "Working on it!"

  "Gimme three seconds," Tweak muttered, and put both hands on the keyboard. She hit a last button, leaned back in her chair, and nodded at her audience. "There. Fixed."

  Outside, there was a holler and a whoop. Feet clattered on the outer stairs.

  "Commander!" Sarah laughed, her hair windblown and her eyes alight. "We're all clear! The tarps are up!"

  Aidan let out the breath he'd been holding and leaned against the doorframe, grinning at Tweak. "Holy shit. I've never seen anyone get a slick tarp back up that quickly. Damn, glad you're on our team now."

  Tweak gave them all a skeptical look. "That? Couldn't handle that? You guys suck or what?"

  Aidan chuckled and shrugged. "Corps get most of the good hackers in their pockets. We don't normally get any of them to come work for us. And everyone else here's got other duties, too. Haven't had a dedicated coder on this base since I've been here. Kevin and Janice were handling it."

  Tweak eyed him. Turning, she raked the two Dusters with her eyes. "You let these asshats code? You s-suicidal?"

  Aidan's laugh was colder than he had anticipated. Well, yeah, sometimes he was. But not tonight. "Not most of us. Just hard to get coders out here."

  Tweak tipped her head. Then the teenager lost interest. "Yeah, whatever. Tired. Bed."

  Slipping out of her seat, she brushed past the crowd in the doorway, leaving them staring at one another. Aidan met his crew's eyes with a weak smile. "I guess we know we've got a coder now."

  "Apparently," Kevin agreed, still sounding a little dazed.

  Janice let out a long breath. "So, I'm not gonna work on the software anymore? Thank God."

  Aidan's chuckle was more honest this time. "Lucky you. All right, everyone. Try and get some rest. Lazarus, you okay to take watch the rest of the night, just in case?"

  "Wasn't planning to do much with my night anyway," the tousled man shrugged, giving his friends a wave as he turned and shouldered his mortar-rifle. "Night, guys."

  "Night," Kevin murmured, standing as the crew filtered back towards their bedrooms.

  "Well," he added once the doors down the hall were shut. "Wasn't that interesting."

  "We can dissect it in the morning," Aidan replied quietly, trying and failing not to watch Kevin.

  The man nodded, then yawned expansively. "No complaints here. I hadn't been looking forward to burning the candle at both ends." Glancing at Aidan, he gave a slow, sleepy smile. "It looks like we found a few gems in those girls. Nothing a little polishing won't-" Another yawn cut off the rest of his words.

  Aidan chuckled. "Yeah. Just hope they won't kill us before we can polish 'em up." He raised his eyes to Kevin's face, smiling crookedly. "You should get some sleep."

  "Yes, sir," Kevin agreed quietly, eyes already half-lidded. Giving Aidan another small smile that made his heart lurch, the wiry man slipped by and headed for his room.

  Leaning against the
door, Aidan focused on breathing as the last twenty minutes dropped on him like lead.

  Event File 26

  File Tag: Requisitions Foray

  Timestamp: 7-30-2155/ 8-1-2155

  "All. Your tech. Sucks."

  Tweak dropped onto the bench hard enough to make the plates rattle, slapping down her cracked tab beside Aidan's hand.

  He pulled back reflexively. "Um." He really didn't need this kind of morning after a drone-alarm night.

  "I regret to inform you that we aren't at liberty to walk to the nearest TechoToys store and buy the best," Kevin added dryly down the table. "We make do, you see. Our deepest apologies." Unfortunately his tone was anything but apologetic, and Aidan knew he wasn't the only one to notice it.

  Tweak's black eyes narrowed. "You guys. Using shitty stuff. It. Get. You. Dead. You got me?"

  "What would we need to get the base up to your standards, Tweak?" Aidan asked, trying to stay as calm as he could for everyone else's benefit. He really, really didn't need this.

  "Got a list," Tweak stated, flicking on her tab so that the holo of her screen fizzled up, filled with text. "Red, you need now. Last night. Software. Band aid. New hardware. Soon. Yellow, you need s-soon. Green can w-w-w-wait." She shut her mouth with an audible click.

  Aidan stared at the list, slowly swallowing down the porridge he'd just put in his mouth. "Um, okay. That's a long list."

  "Lot of broke shit," Tweak agreed sourly. "I do tech here, I do it right. No spit and d-duct tape. No shit work."

  "Okay." Aidan drew a slow breath. "So, what happens if we don't get the stuff in red?"

  Tweak gave a quick bark of a laugh. "Your slick tarp dies. You all die. Nobody pay me. Your AC stops reading temps r-r-right in a m-month. You all fry. How you work with this garbage so long?"

  "Because we have to, honey," Andrea stated quietly, putting a bowl down in front of Tweak. She ignored it.