Dead Stare (Ghosts & Magic Book 3)

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Dead Stare (Ghosts & Magic Book 3) Page 15

by M. R. Forbes


  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. She said she was fine, that she was taken care of. She didn’t say Death was holding her. She didn’t say who it was. They gave her the passcode and told her to bring it to me.”

  I didn’t know what to say or think. Frank couldn’t have hit me as hard as this new development. Death had taken Prithi and then given her information that I needed. Was he helping me? That didn’t make any sense.

  This whole damn thing didn’t make any sense.

  Well, maybe the fact that something had gone right for once did. It had happened because it was a trick, or a trap, or some other method of control disguised as something serendipitous. I remembered then that Death had been trying to get a hold of me for some reason right before Tarakona gave me the ring. Was this about that? Was it connected?

  Did it even matter?

  It seemed like every powerful entity in the world wanted me to hit Mr. Black, except maybe for the demon in my pocket.

  Worse? It seemed like everyone else thought that I could.

  “I need to rest,” I said, letting the whole thing drop. None of the details were important. What was important was being strong enough to get in the ring for round three.

  “You don’t need your health or your magic in the Machine,” Myra said.

  “You heard that?”

  “I was patched into the Machine, too. I noticed when Sandman hijacked our wireless connection. Maybe she wanted me to?”

  “Probably so you could give me shit about it.” I paused to cough again. “If I go in now, will you stop nagging me and let me take my meds when we’re done?”

  Myra smiled. “Sure.”

  Shika and Frank were still in their respective doorways. Had Shika heard Myra use my name? Did I care? I didn’t. I had bigger things to worry about, and she was as loyal to Mr. T as they came.

  “Either of you up for a trip to the Machine?” I asked.

  “We only have one portable,” Myra said.

  “No. I’m not doing this myself. This is Red’s building. There isn’t a Machinery inside?”

  “There is,” Shika said.

  “It isn’t secure,” Myra said. “Just because the nodes belong to Red they’re still connected to the rest of the network, and the rest of the Houses.”

  “Black already knows what I’m up to. He also knows I’m somewhere in Tokyo by now. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for him to guess I’m holed up in one of House Red’s hotels. If he wants to knock a building full of innocents over, he can do it, so I’m guessing he doesn’t. Even if we use the key to find the door, we still have to get to it, get through it, and get past the home guard.” And probably Mr. Black. I didn’t say that part out loud because I didn’t want to make Myra more nervous about our chances. “He’ll have a few more shots at us before this is over.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Frank said, grinning.

  He had enjoyed his first run, so much so that he had been talking about it almost nonstop since we had gotten out of the wild. He had been horrified by his first outburst when he had killed Robert. It didn’t seem to be bothering him much now. I understood why. If it weren't you making the run, it would be somebody else. If it weren’t you doing the killing, another ghost would, and they would be taking home the paycheck that could have been yours. That was how it worked. Maybe he wasn’t being paid for this one up front but he had already scored the augmentation, plus Tarakona knew who he was. If he survived this one, there would be plenty of future opportunities.

  “Shika, do you use the Machine?” I asked.

  She shook her head. I hadn’t expected she did. You couldn’t get much further from nature than inside a virtual reality.

  “You can stand guard, then. What floor are we going to?”

  “The penthouse,” Shika said.

  “Penthouse? The Machinery is up there?”

  “It’s a private node. It belongs to the user that runs the hotel. A technomancer named Rolo Brand.”

  “Rolo?” Frank said. “That’s a name?”

  “Tarakona seems to have a lot of technos in his stable,” I said.

  “Mr. Tarakona is very interested in the marriage of technology and biology, but this one is Red’s. He’s the only one in the House.”

  “You don’t have an issue with a marriage like that?” I asked.

  “That is not my decision to make. I understand there is a value provided by circuits and logic that nature cannot replace. The opposite is also true. In my opinion, more so.”

  “A real marriage of convenience,” Frank said. “Let me tell you; this thing is pretty convenient.” He tapped at his eye. “Saved my bacon at least twice already.”

  I coughed again, swallowing the blood that came up. At least I had a good incentive to get this over with.

  “Let’s pay Rolo a visit.”

  37

  Brand name asshole

  Rolo Brand didn't answer the door. After being let in by one of his lackeys and brought to the chamber where the technomancer kept his toys, I immediately started to wonder if Rolo Brand did anything outside of the Machine.

  "That's him?" I asked, pointing at a chubby arm. It was the only part of him that was visible beyond the wires and connectors and whatever that provided him a "heightened sense of immersion inside the Machine," as his keeper had put it.

  It looked to me like he just used the millions worth of kit to get himself off.

  "I know he doesn't look very impressive like that," the butler said. He hadn't bothered to give his name and I hadn't cared enough about to ask. "You see, Rolo has multiple sclerosis. He can barely even move in the outside world. He is almost a god in the Machine."

  "I hear that a lot," I said.

  I hated the Machine and had no use for Machine gods. I understood why he would want to spend all his time there considering his physical health, just like I understood why Dannie had liked entering the Machine after she lost her legs. I still thought it was a shitty way to live.

  "Can we talk to him?" Shika asked.

  The servant went over to a secondary console and tapped a button. "Rolo, you have guests," he said.

  There was no response from the meat. Instead, a hidden door slid aside along a cold metal wall and a treaded robot rolled out. It had a large screen for a face, which turned on and became a man's face as it approached. It was a chiseled, action-hero face, the kind of face nobody had in reality. It was right on the edge of the uncanny valley.

  It looked us over for a few seconds, pausing on Shika.

  "You brought these losers here?" he said.

  "Rolo, we need your help," Shika replied.

  "My help? What can I possibly help you with? I'm just a nerd in a box." He laughed at his little joke. Nobody else did.

  "We're on a job for Mr. Tarakona," I said.

  "Our new supreme leader?" The avatar rolled its eyes. "Please. I don't bother him; he doesn't bother me. That was the arrangement to keep me on here."

  "You're full of it, Rolo," Shika said. "You cross Tarakona; you lose all of this."

  "I have enough stashed away to replace it, and he knows it. Anyway, I'm busy right now. Come back in an hour."

  "We just need to use your other rigs," I said. I wasn't sure why he had more than one. I doubted he had friends. "You don't have to be involved at all."

  The robot rolled over closer to me, the screen sliding down a long neck to get to eye level. "Not involved? I'm involved in everything having to do with House Red and the Machine. I write the code, the security protocols, the patches. I tend to the bots. I cultivate new technos. Who the hell are you, anyway? Some entry-level ghost Tarakona pulled off the street to use as cannon fodder?"

  "I'm called the Baron," I said. "I was a friend of Ms. Red."

  The eyebrows wrinkled. "You're the Baron?" He laughed. "I thought you would be at least a little handsome."

  "That's funny coming from you."

  "Zing," he said. "Nice one. Okay, so you saved House Red
from being eaten by Mr. Black. Do you think that's earned you any favors from me?"

  "Yes."

  "It hasn't. Piss off."

  The screen went off, and the robot began turning around. I looked over at Shika. It was her job to get him in line.

  "You have no idea how important this is, Rolo."

  "Don't know. Don't care," he said through the robot.

  "One call to Mr. Tarakona, and you'll be on your way out of a job."

  "Your threats don't mean a thing to me, tree humper."

  Shika's face turned red at the comment, her jaw clenching in anger. It was the first time I had seen her lose her calm demeanor.

  "You little-" she started to say. I cut her off with a hand gesture, walking toward the cocoon the real Rolo Brand was mostly holed up in. This guy was getting on my nerves.

  "I can't allow you near him," the butler said, cutting me off.

  "If you're loyal to your House, you'll get out of my way," I said.

  "I'm loyal to my friend," the man replied. "Then the House he serves. I never pledged anything different."

  "You're going to make this difficult?"

  "I'm afraid you aren't giving me a choice."

  "I've got a choice for you, pal," Frank said, approaching behind me. "Step aside, or I'll rip your damn fool head off."

  Rolo growled, the robot still facing the other way. "Okay, okay. Fine. There's no need for violence, and nobody can do a damn thing with all of this fucking noise. Do me a favor and take them up to the rigs."

  "Are you sure?" the servant asked.

  "Yes, I'm sure. I can finish up with this later."

  The man shrugged. "Follow me."

  He led us out of Rolo's room and up a winding staircase. We were high enough that the view out to Tokyo was pretty awesome. So was the sight of something large, airborne, and fire-breathing way up over the city.

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "A dragon," Shika said.

  "I thought-"

  "That is what the people call them because most have no other point of reference. In truth, they are simply large, flying reptiles."

  "They look pretty cool from here," Frank said.

  "Yes, they can be quite beautiful. Their scales refract the sunlight in such a way that they take on a very interesting pattern in the daylight. Perhaps you'll have a chance to see it."

  "Maybe you can show me sometime?" Frank said.

  Shika ignored him, moving ahead a few steps.

  I glanced at Frank. "I had to try," he whispered.

  I dropped back to walk next to Myra. She had fallen silent as soon as we left the suite.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Not really. This whole thing is terrifying."

  "Tell me about it."

  "Do you think we'll win?"

  "We're the good guys; we have to win."

  "Are you sure we're the good guys?"

  "Not completely. We have to win anyway."

  "I just want Prithi back."

  "You'll get her back. Even if I die."

  "If Death is helping you, that means he needs you for something. Death needs you, Conor. That's an even scarier thought."

  "For both of us. You told me that Prithi didn't say it was Death that took her."

  "No. You think it was someone else?"

  "I don't know. Probably not."

  We fell into silence as we reached the top of the stairs and were led down a long corridor.

  "What is it with Machine admins, anyway?" I said as we walked. "Every single one of you I've met so far has had a chip of some kind on their shoulder."

  "Maybe you just aren't likable," Myra replied.

  "I'm serious."

  "So am I, but if you need another answer, spend a little more time thinking about what the Machine is."

  "An escape from reality," I said. "So you're saying only people who are angry at the world want to escape?"

  "No. Everybody wants to escape. People who are angry at the world want to change it. Control it. Machine admins can do that."

  "Why are you so angry? It's not as though you're dying."

  She glared at me. "You know what? You use your illness like it’s a good reason for everything that suits you. Like it's the ultimate apology. Fuck that. I'd rather be angry than make excuses."

  She had me there. I clenched my teeth, taking the lumps. It wasn't as if I never felt like shit for it.

  Myra looked at me then, surprised at my lack of return venom. She made a thoughtful, slightly scared face, and then moved a little closer to me, catching me off-guard with her sudden reduction in hate.

  "I was abused by my brother. Almost every night from seven to nine. He made me hate almost everything about myself, and my parent's inability to see that I was being abused made me hate the rest. It's not an excuse for the way I've always treated you, and I'm sorry."

  I stared at her, not sure what to think or say. An older version of me would have given her a comforting hug. A part of me still wanted to be that guy. The other part couldn't. You couldn't be a ghost and be that person. The two things didn't mix.

  "Apology accepted," I said.

  She shook her head at me, giving me a pitying look that made me feel more guilty about who I was.

  I couldn't think of anything else to do but look away.

  38

  Brown-eyed girl

  Rolo's manservant, or whatever he was, went out of his way to get us hooked up into the rigs and ready to go. He was cordial, almost polite about it, calmly checking our connections and chatting with us as he did.

  He said he knew Rolo could be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he attributed it to his disease that left him so incapacitated he often went on his little power trips. He was nothing but a brain trapped in a limp body outside of the machine, capable of mixing technology and magic, but incapable of much else.

  The description reminded me of what Myra had said a few minutes earlier about my own predicament. I had abandoned my wife and child. I had used it to justify stealing, killing, and a whole host of other transgressions that normal people never had the faintest desire to be part of. I had let it, and the fear of death, control every aspect of my life since the day I was diagnosed.

  Control.

  I was sensing a pattern there, and the more focused it became, the more unhappy I grew.

  Or was it hopeless?

  I leaned back in the chair. My eyes were already covered by the Machine visor, and I was getting a little nervous. I could sense Shika standing between Myra and me while Frank had taken Prithi's portable in order to participate. Rolo's chairs were all human-sized and very comfortable, apparently designed to keep the techno's guests comfortable during what his butler called "the craziest orgies you can imagine."

  I could imagine a lot. Not that I wanted to. Your body reacted outside the Machine the same way it did inside the Machine, so I could only imagine what the seating had been through. The thought made me nauseous.

  "We're ready," Shika said.

  "Take the card," I said, handing it to her. "Once we're in, upload the data to my avatar."

  "You're starting to sound like a real Machinist," Myra said.

  "Shut up," I replied in a generally humorous tone. At least as humorous as my raspy voice got.

  I heard her feet padding along the floor, heading over to the mainframe where I assumed the butler was standing.

  "You'll be dropping into Rolo's mansion," he said. "It's near the edge of the City of Wonders."

  "Sounds great," I replied. I was assuming Sandman would meet us inside.

  "In five. Four. Three. Two. One."

  I felt a sense of pressure, and then I was falling through the rabbit hole again.

  I landed on a heavily padded floor. There were pillows all around me, and I was completely naked. Well, my avatar was. So were Frank and Myra's. Of course, we were all gender-messy, a conflagration of male and female with all of the parts for both.

  "This is the second time you're
seeing me naked," Frank said, laughing at the situation. "Next time, we're going to have to get it on."

  "I'm not amused," I said.

  Neither was Myra, and I could imagine why. She was holding her hands over her parts, her face red and tears ready to spring into her eyes. It didn't matter that the avatar didn't look like her, or that the body wasn't hers.

  "If you can hear me, fix it," I shouted. "And upload the key."

  Our forms pixellated and refocused. The avatars were all human, designed to look like movie stars or something, and now they were clothed. A moment later, I could feel a new bit of information slip into my brain. It was another passcode of some kind, but it was thousands of characters long.

  "That's better," Myra said, wiping her face. I hoped Rolo's asshole servant could see the tears below the visor. I hoped he would feel guilty about them.

  "Now what do we do?" Frank asked.

  "Get out of here before we get attacked by a giant testicle," I replied. It was a lame joke, and I wasn't even sure I was joking.

  We made our way out of the room, into a long hallway. The exit was straight ahead, and I didn't waste any time getting out. Of course, I turned around after we exited. Of course, the hole we came out of was a disgusting one.

  "Some sense of humor," Frank said. Even he had lost his initial amusement because of Myra's reaction.

  “The City of Wonders,” Myra said, looking out the other way.

  I turned to get a look. It didn’t look any different than any other city on the planet to me. “What’s so wonderful about it?”

  “Nothing,” she replied. “Aldred thought it was a funny name, and it stuck. It’s one of the most normal zones in the Machine. Kind of boring, really.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going,” I said. “We can wait for Sandman there.”

  “How do you know she’ll show up?” Myra asked. “She would have to be monitoring the Machine twenty-four-seven.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she does. Mr. Black doesn’t give her a lot of freedom.”

  We covered the long distance in a short time, each step seeming to carry us further than should have been possible. Like Myra had said, the City of Wonders was boring. It was a ghost town, a place where few travelers visited and fewer lingered. It meant that all of the NPCs were frozen in time, their execution paused to optimize processing. They began to come back to life as we wandered down the streets, standing and waiting and watching, ready for us to need their attention.

 

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