by Dave Swavely
This was all too much to be mere coincidence, so Sun was confident beyond all doubt that in a matter of weeks, all future net bios of Michael Ares would be in memoriam.
2
SAUSALITO
It was a memorable calm before the storm. Lynn and I were enjoying each other more than any time in recent memory, as if we somehow knew that we would soon be torn apart. This little getaway must have happened at just the right time, because for once she wanted to make love as much as I did, if not more. During those afternoon hours of alternating tenderness and passion, even the slightest touch never failed to make my heart race, and it felt so good that I wondered why we didn’t do this more often.
Now happily exhausted, we were enjoying the sunset from the divan, which had slid from inside the room to the deck outside it. We lay intertwined, as comfortably as we could manage with Lynn’s pregnant swell. She was six months along—a factor that had contributed to the recent infrequency of our intimacy, but also had made this day all the more enjoyable. During her first pregnancy, I had found it hard to be attracted to her physically, because I was still so heavily influenced by the assumption that a woman had to be shaped like a model to be beautiful. But somewhere along the line, perhaps because we lost our first child, my perspective changed completely. I now loved her body like this, and I was telling her so as I moved my hand across the soft skin of her belly.
“I don’t believe it,” she said, as usual.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” I said playfully. “Or do I have to show you again?” I nuzzled her ear, through the streaked blond-and-brown hair that always smelled so good.
“There are so many young and thin women,” she continued. “Why would you want fat old me?”
I found myself wincing a bit, as the reference to women with nice bodies brought thoughts of Tara back into my mind again. I had been trying to keep them out during the trip, because I didn’t want to let them ruin this good time with Lynn. So I focused on my wife again and made it seem like my expression was a result of what she had said about being fat.
“Don’t talk like that,” I said. “I want you because you’re the mother of my baby—my babies. Besides, you’re only fat in the right places.” I spread my hand out and pressed slightly until I felt a little kick from the baby, and then moved it up to the other part of her body that had gotten bigger recently, and whispered into her ear. “You’re beautiful everywhere.”
“I think you have a mental problem,” she said, “but I guess I won’t complain.” Giving up the argument, she gazed out at the wisps of orange cloud that hung above the bay, colored that way by the sun that was setting in the west. “Now that is beautiful.”
I grunted in agreement, as the colors reminded me of Monet’s painting Impression, Sunrise. The bright orange of the clouds was similar, of course, and so was the aqua blue of the deck of the house, which visually pulled the darker greens and blues of the bay beyond it in its direction. The only thing missing from Monet’s vision was the sun itself, which was on the other side of the mountain from us. But the shining cityscape of San Francisco, in the distance to the right side of our view, provided an attractive alternative.
We had bought this hillside house for moments exactly like this. And we had bought six properties surrounding it, with my company’s version of eminent domain, to create a cushion as a part of the obligatory security plan. I knew that my cyborg bodyguard was below us on the street in front of the house, probably worrying about our level of exposure on the open deck, and that there were seven other agents at various places around the perimeter of our little retreat. Wondering whether a machine-man like Min was capable of an emotion like worry, my focus drifted away from the sunset and my wife, and back to my job.
“What are you thinking about?” Lynn asked, pulling a light blanket over her.
“The same stuff, about BASS,” I said.
“How ruling the world is boring?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“You know, meetings and hearing about what other people have been doing was okay for an old man like Saul, but I miss the action of being a peacer, even if it was only occasional.”
“Why don’t you just go out and find someone to arrest, or shoot?” she asked.
“With my entourage of bodyguards and advisors, and half the world press stalking me?” I adjusted myself on the divan, so I could share some of the blanket. The sky had now turned darker, and the temperature was dropping. “I never asked for all this, you know. The old man brought me to BASS, and he cooked up the plan to leave me in charge. It’s like I’ve been carried along to where I am today—it’s not like I wanted it or chose it myself. Maybe that’s why I’m not really that happy…”
We lay silent for a moment, then Lynn said, “Maybe you just need to find out why.”
“Pardon me?” I asked, beginning to notice her against me once again. I shifted a little, and it felt even better.
“Do you know what part you’re supposed to play?” she continued. “I mean, Saul brought you here, left you his empire. Do you know why?”
“Hmmm,” I said, after thinking awhile. “I suppose I don’t.” I put my hand on her belly again. “You may be onto something there, Mama.”
“If you find out what Saul had in mind for you,” she continued, “maybe you’ll like it. Maybe you’ll like the part you’re supposed to play.”
“And then I’ll be happy?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“That’s a lot of maybes,” I said, and tickled her side.
“Stop!” she growled through clenched teeth, and I did.
“What about you?” I asked. “Have you been thinking more about taking over the school?” Lynn had grown up in the orphanage that Saul’s wife started on the grounds of the Presidio, and that kind of work was right up her alley, compassionate and domestic as she was.
“Yes, but I want to have the baby first and bond with her, before taking something like that on. I don’t need a job to be happy.”
“I don’t need my job to be happy either,” I said, not sure it was really true, but trying to forget about it for now and get back to enjoying the moment. “I only need you … and Lynley.” I moved my hand back down to the baby. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” she said with a smile and turned from her side to her back.
“What will really make me happy,” I said, touching her belly button now, “is when this gets all stretched out, so there’s no hole anymore. That’s cool.”
“It won’t be long,” she said, and soon we were kissing and caressing again, with Lynn pausing periodically to stop the blanket from slipping off. She was insecure about her body, despite my compliments, and also a bit paranoid because she knew there were so many security people in the vicinity of the house.
Her modesty turned out to be providential, because just as it was getting good again, we were interrupted by what felt like an earthquake, as five hundred pounds of Chinese cyborg jumped from the ground below the deck, soared over the art-deco railing, and landed with a shocking thud on the floor next to us. Lynn shrieked and pulled the whole blanket to herself, as if the greatest danger was that Min might see her naked. The giant had no interest in that, however. He stood with his forearms extended in combat readiness, and his eyes scanned the inside room, through the wide doorway, with a superhuman speed and perception.
Then he spoke, which was a rare phenomenon. “I’m sorry, sir. My sensors had been registering some anomalies within the security perimeter—nothing to bother you with. But when one of the diagnostic programs suggested that a foreign object may have entered your vicinity, I felt it necessary—”
“You’re saying someone’s in there?” I looked toward the room. I felt naked without my clothes, but even more so without my guns, which were inside.
“I do not know,” said the big man, his gaze never leaving the darkness of the room. “There is an anomaly in my readings, but I have now scanned the room in four modes, an
d found nothing.”
“It was getting rather exciting out here,” I said. “Maybe that set off your—”
“Michael!” Lynn scolded me, in disgust. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, and checked to see if anything was showing.
“I can turn the lights on from out here,” I said, then to the room: “Lights on.” Nothing happened, so I said it louder, and they finally came on.
Just inside the room, a man was sitting in one of the plush aqua chairs. He was holding both of my guns, and pointing them straight at us.
3
KALEIDOCIDE
I instinctively moved in front of Lynn, so that the bullets would hit me if the guns were fired, and Min moved in front of me faster than the eye could see. I knew the cyborg’s augmented mind was calculating an angle at which he could disarm the intruder, and sensed his powerful body coiling to do that, when my non-augmented mind finally realized who was sitting in the chair.
“Stand down, Min,” I said. “And tell the men coming up the steps to stay outside.” The giant’s head turned slightly toward me, the muscles and machinery inside him not relaxing a bit, despite my order. “It’s all right, he’s an old friend.” Min’s head turned back toward the figure in the chair, who smiled and lowered the guns. Then Min did relax, but remained still, silently issuing the orders with his brain to the approaching forces. The rumbling on the other side of the door stopped, and I stepped to the side so I could see the man in the chair better.
“Terrey?” I said, and then it occurred to me that he could be an impostor, though it would have been an impressive disguise, because my old friend was so uniquely handsome. The squiggly upper lip, imperfect complexion, short but wavy sandy hair, sad but tough eyes, and the overall boyish but intelligent look … only the biggest money and best science could have duplicated him. But this intruder had beat BASS security to get in here—marks of big money and top science. So I cocked my head to the side and spread my hands in a query toward him.
“Only one way to find out,” he said in a half-Australian, half-British accent, which also would have been hard to duplicate.
“Live forever, man,” I said in my half-British, half-American.
“Never die young, mate,” he answered, and I knew it was Terrey, because this was the customary greeting from when we were younger. My part was from a song first recorded by Oasis in the 1990s long before I was born, then remade by Balls Out when I was a teen in England, and his part was from a popular movie made in Australia when he was young.
I started to step toward him to greet him further, but then remembered Lynn and looked back to see that she was white as a sheet.
“Bloody hell, Terrey,” I said, gesturing to my half-covered wife.
“Had to be, Michael,” he answered, studying the guns while he did. “Boas, huh? These are a bit of a step down from your Trinity, aren’t they?” He smiled at me, trying to ease the awkwardness of the moment.
I ignored him and sat back down next to Lynn.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You okay?” I put my hand on the part of the blanket where the baby was underneath.
“I think so,” she said, breathing hard. “Can I just get dressed?”
“Yeah, sure. Absolutely.” I stood up with her and walked her inside to the door to another room, helping her hold the blanket in place and keeping my naked body between hers and Terrey, in deference to her modesty and regardless of mine. When we reached it, I told Terrey and Min that I would be back in a second.
“Try not to kill each other,” I added, and went into the room with Lynn, where I assured her further and slipped on some pants. Then I hurried back out to the main room.
Terrey had tossed the guns onto another piece of furniture, obviously wanting to pacify the big cyborg, who still stood motionless and wary in the same place.
“How did you get in here?” I asked.
“Magic,” he answered, spreading his own hands now.
“How?” I repeated. “Tell me.”
“Really, Michael.” He smiled. “I can’t reveal all my secrets, you know, but I did it to reveal one that I have discovered about you: you are in some serious danger.” He crossed his legs and relaxed, now that any possible confrontation was past. “I could have taken you out easily before your machine-man arrived, and long before the others. And if I can do that, you’re going to have to make some big-time changes to survive what’s coming.”
“Have the peacers outside conduct an investigation right now,” I said to Min. “Find out how we were breached.” The big man nodded very slightly, and dived into the net via the cyberware in his brain, while still listening to our conversation—something that not many creatures on the planet could do.
“I told you, Michael,” Terrey said, “there’s no existing tech that can make someone invisible to your people or to your scanning capabilities, let alone both.”
“Were any of the guards taken out?” I asked Min, who shook his head no. “Any air traffic detected?” No again.
“So unless there’s been an unknown invention that cannot be seen by the human eye or current surveillance,” Terrey continued, “it’s magic. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Net Aura kind of stuff.”
I frowned at him and looked at Min again, who shook his head one more time.
“And seriously, mate,” Terrey continued, “that kind of mystical stuff may be at play in this problem you have, which is what you really need to worry about, not something irrelevant that I’ll never tell you.”
“Okay, what is it?” I asked, sitting down across from him.
“You’ll be dead within two weeks.”
“How so?”
“Ever hear of the word ‘kaleidocide’?”
I thought for a moment, then said, “Yes, I have, because I met Zhang Sun once, and became curious, so I surfed the net about him. I saw some of the speculation—rumors that he’s into some weird religion that includes a ritual he uses to kill people, political enemies and such. Looked like an urban myth to me.”
“It’s not,” Terrey said. “And you’re next.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Min interrupted. “Dead ends all around on the breach. Looks like the secret stays with him for now.” Another understated gesture from the cyborg, in the direction of Terrey. “But I can confirm what he is saying about Zhang Sun. I heard about his cult from reliable sources.”
“That’s right,” I said to Min. “You should know better than us.” I had recently discovered that my bodyguard had fled China because of Sun’s rise to power.
“I want to hear about this,” said Lynn as she emerged from the other room, dressed and made up.
“That’s fine,” I said, and she sat down on the divan next to me after I brought it back inside and closed the big door. “Lynn, meet Terrey Thorn. Terrey, my wife Lynn.”
“My apologies for the intrusion, marm,” Terrey said to Lynn, who didn’t reply. “I had to show your husband how vulnerable he is, so he would let me save his life.”
“Michael?” Lynn looked at me.
“Terrey and I were in the British special forces together,” I explained. “Then I came here, and he went into the personal security business. We’ve lost touch, but I take it from this visit, Terrey, that you’re still in that business?”
“One of the top companies in the world.”
“What’s the name again? ‘Terrey Will Take Care of You’?”
“Protection Guaranteed.”
“Oh, right. Nice rip-off of Reality G.”
“An homage. I want a monopoly like theirs.”
“Michael,” Lynn said again. “What’s going on?”
“The most powerful man in the world wants him dead,” Terrey said. “And he most certainly will have his way, unless you hire me.”
“Why you?” Lynn asked.
“Because, trust me, I’m the only one who can protect you against this. And you can trust me.”
“What’s this?”
“A method of assassina
tion that has never failed to end in the death of its target.”
“What’s so special about it? Michael and Min keep assuring me that we’re as safe as anyone, with the BASS security measures.”
“You know how in most assassination attempts, the bad guy sends just one killer, or plants one bomb, or uses one other method of some kind? He can’t do more than that because of limits on money and ability to escape the reach of the law. So if the good guy manages to thwart the attempt, he lives happily ever after, right? Well, in this case there are almost no limits on the resources and power of the one ordering the assassination. He’s not just trying to kill you—he is killing you.”
“How?”
“He doesn’t send just one assassin,” Terrey explained. “He uses multiple methods simultaneously, usually five or more. And in the three cases I’ve personally investigated and confirmed, they were successful long before all the methods were exhausted. Make no mistake, kaleidocide is not just a threat … it is a death sentence.”
All four of us were silent for a few fearful moments, and then I broke the silence.
“But you think you can protect me?”
“I’d like to try,” Terrey said. “This is like the World Cup Final in my business. If I keep you alive, we won’t be one of the top firms in the world, we’ll be at the top. Plus I owe you one.”
“That you do,” I agreed.
“So that’s the meaning of the term you’re using?” Lynn said. “Killing by a lot of different ways, like a kaleidoscope?”
“Yes, but by a lot of different colors, too.” Terrey started to explain this, but Min continued, probably accessing information from the net as he spoke.