by James Wake
“I don’t know, but the voice in my ears is a little anarcho-capitalist whore with an Auktoris Global Funds tattoo hidden on her inner thigh,” Nadia lied.
Both her companions stopped short. “What?” Ortega said.
Still nothing in her ears. So Tess really wasn’t listening. “Follow me! Quickly!”
She rushed down the hall, Jackson calling after her and poor Ortega lagging behind. Dark windows with secured doors flew past, each with a numbered AP CHAMBER sign on the wall. One of them would be active. One of them had to be active.
“Slow down!” Jackson yelled behind her.
Lights. The door was closed, but lights shone through the windows. Nadia slid to a stop, grabbing her cutter and making a precise snip through the door jamb. It took a bit of forcing, but eventually she shouldered through the heavy metal door and into a small, cramped room.
And stopped.
Two masked techs in cleansuits stood staring at her. A man in orange was strapped to a chair between them.
The top of his head was missing. No…the top of his skull, gray matter exposed and riddled with needles and cables. His face was shrouded with a sterile cloth.
“I told you to slow down, you stupid little…” Jackson yelled, bursting through the door. She froze too, her mouth agape. Then Ortega crashed into her back.
One of the techs came to their senses, diving for a button on the wall nearby.
“Ah-ah!” Jackson raised her gun. “Hands up, nice and easy. That’s a good girl,” she said, advancing on the pair. A man and a woman, definitely, red jumpsuits with that same atrocious swooping capital “A.”
“It’s you!” the male tech said, pointing to Nadia. “It’s her!” he said, turning to his partner.
“Yes, charmed, I’m sure. This is an active AP chamber, correct?” Nadia said.
“How do you know that?” the female tech asked, cringing as Jackson shoved them both into a corner.
“Face the wall. On your knees, both of you!”
“Is he…dead?” Ortega said, staring at the sawed-open skull.
“For all intents and purposes, yes,” the female tech said.
Jackson felt for the prisoner’s pulse on one of his wrists, her eyes and gun still on the techs. “Weak, but his blood’s pumpin’.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the female tech said. “The scanning process is still catastrophic.”
Nadia only now noticed a doorway leading deeper. She leaned in, enough to see a wall full of cubby holes sealed with clear covers and hooded people in orange lying within them.
She flicked through to thermal vision. About half the bodies were cold.
“What is this?” Ortega said, still staring at the exposed brain matter. “What the hell is this?”
Nadia’s eyes followed a bundle of black cables from the chair to the wall, ending at a rack full of computers with a custom port holding a glittering, shining memory drive.
“It’s an AP chamber,” Jackson said, grim and flat “Keep it together.”
“What the fuck is an AP chamber?”
“Apotheosis,” the female tech said. “A little joke, heh.”
Jackson’s eyes slowly went wide, then grew huge after she’d heard the word apotheosis. “Who is he?” She nodded toward the chair.
“Test subject,” the woman said.
“He’s a prisoner!” the male tech said, trying to get up but whining as Jackson shoved him back down. “They made me sign an NDA!”
“Shut up!” his coworker said.
“I’m so glad you guys are here,” he said. “This place is a fucking nightmare. I knew they’d kill me if I talked, but you guys are gonna do something, right?”
“Watch them,” Jackson told Ortega as she pulled him to the corner.
“Brain! Exposed brain!” Ortega yelled, still staring at the chair. “Is anyone else seeing this?”
Nadia couldn’t blame him. She felt numb, stuck, waves of nauseous fury boiling in her gut with every moment she stared.
Still, she couldn’t look away.
Jackson slapped the back of her partner’s head. “Snap out of it! Watch them!” she yelled, moving toward Nadia and…ignoring her. Instead she fussed at a display next to the computer rack.
Nadia stared. This was what it would look like. In her nightmares, her father was always lying on a bed, strapped down with giant clamps around the ragged hole where the top of his skull had been. Nothing like the neat, even cut in this man’s skull.
She snapped herself out of it, shaking her eyes away from the half corpse strapped to the chair. “Listen, both of you,” she told Jackson and Ortega. “This is our chance. We can speak freely in here.”
They both ignored her: Ortega holding a gun on the techs, Jackson standing still at the display.
“We’re shielded from wireless transmission. No one can hear us!” Nadia said.
Windows looked out into the hallway. Anyone who walked by would have a full view of the whole sad tableau. Time was short. Nadia stepped closer to Jackson, meaning to poke her into listening. Instead the display caught her eye.
Jackson had typed in a search. Subject: Carroll, Charles. Status: Scanned. Euthanized. Scanned. Disposed.
“No one can hear us, you say?” Jackson said. She turned with clenched fists, leaving her gun on the counter. Nadia saw it coming, knew the moment she heard Jackson’s voice what was about to happen.
Too slow. Jackson’s fist slammed into her gut, throwing Nadia against the wall. She crumpled to the floor, all thought ripped out along with her breath.
“That was for Carroll!” Jackson said.
“Who?” Nadia choked out between retching coughs.
Jackson growled and started to charge, catching herself before shredding Nadia to pieces.
“Whoa, what?” Ortega said, torn between intervening and keeping an eye on their prisoners. “Stop! Stop it!”
Jackson took a deep breath, her lips running through a quick ten count. “That was for Carroll,” she said again. “Sorry, I…lost my cool for a second. You didn’t do it. Sorry.”
Nadia struggled to stand up, leaning against the wall for help. “Yes, well…” Another choking cough cut through her throat. “I suppose I may have…deserved that…all the same.”
Jackson helped her to her feet. “You’re sure the cat can’t hear us right now?”
“I’m sorry. For your friend. Whoever he was,” Nadia said, getting only a grunt in reply. “And yes, I’m certain.”
“Good. No more acting nice for the cameras.” Jackson glanced at Ortega to make sure he was listening. “You two are getting played. I don’t trust this cat.”
“Then you and I are in agreement,” Nadia said.
That seemed to take Jackson by surprise. “I thought you two were close?”
“Yes, well…” Nadia said, still hugging her arms close to her gut to keep from doubling over. “…we may be taking a break, as it were.”
“Hang on,” Ortega said. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ve been lied to. All three of us,” Nadia said.
“Don’t move!” Ortega yelled, kicking both the techs farther into the corner. He hovered closer toward Nadia, giving the operating chair a wide berth. “Who’s lying?”
“You know who I mean,” Nadia said, giving the techs a careful glance. “Cheshire. Her. All of it.”
“I heard the cat is here,” Jackson said.
Nadia nodded. “I think that’s right. May I use that terminal?”
“Be my guest.” Jackson gave Ortega an even more careful glance. “If you know something, now’s the time.”
“What? Me?” he said, giving the exposed brain another too-long stare. “What are you guys talking about?”
“All right, yeah,” Jackson said. “Good enough. Hey, you two?” She dragged the male tech to his feet. “That’s enough listening.
”
Ortega followed her lead, dragging the female tech into the back room as well. Nadia was alone with the brain-dead man now, as she poked at glowing buttons on the translucent display. One of the techs had left it open under their profile, hopefully with enough permissions to see what she needed.
Security. Cameras. All sectors.
Access denied.
“Ugh,” Nadia huffed, poking her head into the back room. “Computer help?”
Jackson tapped Ortega’s shoulder. “You’re up.”
He shrugged and joined Nadia, not looking the least bit happy to be back in the same room as the brain tissue.
“I need cameras,” Nadia said.
“You need Cheshire. I’m not a hacker.”
“Your partner seems to think you can help.”
He waved his hand at the display. “No wireless,” he said, pulling a small chip from his jacket and looking for a port. He lowered his voice. “You really think she’s fucking with us?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
When he connected his drive, windows of gibberish scripts lit up on the display. “I don’t even know anymore. Cheshire lied to us on the way in. He’s never lied to me before.”
“Not that you knew of.”
His shoulders sank.
“I know the feeling,” Nadia said.
“Open access,” Ortega said, but there was no victory in it. He stepped back from the display, only for Nadia to push him forward again.
“Perimeter entrances. Please.”
“Uh…okay?” He pulled up a set of feeds. Each showed a still guard booth, no motion of interest. One or all of them probably were set to loop, of course.
“Pull recent history. Local archive,” Nadia asked. With any luck, Tess hadn’t scrubbed it yet. Frames blurred past.
“Whoa!” Ortega stopped one of the feeds and pulled up a clip from earlier, when they’d ridden the tram. A car pulled up to the guard booth, riddled with bullet holes and limping along on one blown-out tire.
A lone Dome stepped out to stop them. No alarm went off. No backup arrived. A man got out of the car, large and black and Brutus for sure, empty-handed. He occupied the Dome’s attention completely while Tess slipped out the other side of the car and dashed up to him.
Something long and slender swung through the air, a flash of light. The Dome fell, two halves of a man. Tess and Brutus hopped back in and peeled the car out through the opening gate.
Of course. “Vault entrance,” Nadia said, sure of what she would see.
Ortega didn’t move. Nadia gave him a gentle prod, nudging his arm up to the display.
“Right, yeah,” he said, dazed. “Vault. Here. Let’s see…oh. Oh, shit!”
Mere minutes ago. A large lobby. A thick set of double doors opening for Tess. Brutus and Aleksa posted with guns outside, watching her back.
“She said…” Ortega muttered. “She said they weren’t coming inside.”
“To answer your earlier question,” Nadia said, “yes, I do believe that Tess is, in fact, lying to us.”
Jackson emerged from the back room and slammed the door shut behind her. “There. Bound and gagged and locked in with the bodies. What did I miss?”
“A proposition for you, Officers?” Nadia said.
Jackson let out a little huff. “That’s cute. Hit me.”
“Help me,” Nadia said, “and I will give you Cheshire.”
The two officers shot silent looks back and forth. Nadia held a hand out to Jackson.
“Yeah, I mean,” Jackson said, holding her hand out but then pulling it away. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m half sure you’d zap me.”
“Just a little jolt. Only enough to tickle,” Nadia said, waving her fingers playfully.
“I’m in,” Ortega said. “I’ve got questions for the cat. Let’s bust this thing open.”
“Good,” Nadia said. “Follow me.”
* * *
None of them had a direct comms link to Brutus. Or Aleksa.
The two of them were waiting in front of the vault, guns ready. No masks. What was the point really? Tess would scrub all the cameras.
Ortega approached first, waving with empty hands as he hustled down the corridor. It was the safest play, Nadia figured. Brutus and Aleksa were most familiar with Ortega. She came after, with Jackson watching the rear.
“Oi, there. Is that…?” Brutus said, starting to raise his shotgun but not getting anywhere near pointing it at them. His arms were covered in bandages. “Didn’t think you three were coming down here.”
“Things got crazy up there. Didn’t she tell you?” Ortega said.
Aleksa eyed them, holding that same machine pistol Tess had sprayed out the car window. “Do we need to leave?”
“Not yet,” Nadia said, strolling right past them, as if she owned the place. “She’s inside, isn’t she?”
“Hold up.” Brutus blocked her way. “She told us not to let anyone else in.”
“Are you serious?” Nadia said. “Ask her then.”
Jackson drew in close behind Nadia, sizing Brutus up. “Big guy, ain’t you?”
She shot a quick glance back. Ortega, his hand on his gun, was hovering near Aleksa. Exactly as planned. Aleksa was distracted, watching the new prospect. Perfect.
“Ask her?” Brutus said, his mouth moving wordlessly a few times after. “She can’t…”
“Hear us?” Nadia said. “Lovely. Now.”
She slapped her hands to Brutus’s shotgun and held it stuck while Jackson slipped behind him and hammered him to his knees in a headlock. Ortega’s shouts of “Hands up! Hands up!” rang out behind her.
Nadia plucked the gun from Brutus’s hands and threw a look at Aleksa. Also on her knees, raising her gun for Ortega to claim. Done. Disarmed. Ortega was holding her at gunpoint. Nadia let out a long breath—that was where she’d thought it might all go wrong: Aleksa making a move against them.
Instead she now had Brutus and Aleksa at her mercy. Nadia hefted Brutus’s ugly gun and tossed it to Jackson.
“Pour vous.”
“Too kind,” Jackson said, holding the muzzle to the back of Brutus’s head.
“Why?” Brutus said. “What is this?”
“You are making a mistake. We trusted you!” Aleksa said.
Nadia let out a light sigh. “I’m doing you both a favor. Won’t you all be dears and wait out here, please?”
All according to plan. She stepped past them, toward a set of double doors left open, leading into darkness beyond.
They didn’t look like vault doors. Metal, yes. Large, yes. But hardly thick. Nadia had broken into much more foreboding places. She paused before moving in.
“Ah, one thing,” she said, tapping Jackson. “Please don’t kill them? I rather like both of them.”
“No promises,” Jackson said, jabbing the back of Brutus’s skull with the shotgun. She gave Nadia a quick wink through her ski mask.
Good enough.
The vault waited.
Chapter Twenty: The Vault
Darkness. Soft white light glowing ahead. Maybe a tinge of blue.
Nadia took slow, silent steps. She knew what the light was before she laid eyes on a single one of them. Like gems. Small, bright memory drives. Hundreds of them, thousands perhaps, lined up in racks filling every wall, stretching on down a cavernous hallway.
The vault. A little joke then.
Dread filled her chest. This place was a tomb, not a vault. Every one of these drives holding a person’s mind trapped inside. Nadia had taken pains to ignore her mother’s plans, had fled the Structure for a new life so as to not be involved. She had run away.
And it had led her here. A giant leap in medical science, fueled by murder. A fitting tribute to her mother’s vision. All that was missing was a few exotic potted ferns.
Nadia wasn’t alone. She c
rept closer, the blue glow of her eyes blending into the light all around her. Chin up. Back straight. Show no weakness.
Tess. Her darling Tess, ratty hoodie and all, dressed up in that damnably ugly army coat. Tess stood at one of the shelves, next to a small cart with an open case on top. Her prosthetic hand drifted over the rows of drives, fingers tapping at thin air. One of the drives caught her interest. She plucked it from the wall and gently set it into her case.
“And you scoffed at me for stealing jewels?” Nadia said.
Tess yelped, sending a small pile of glowing drives skittering off her cart onto the floor. It took her a few blinking moments to collect herself, making a point of barely looking at Nadia as she kept scanning through the drives.
“What are you doing here?” Tess said.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Nadia said. “Cheshire.”
Tess paused, only for a moment, a small malicious smile teasing at the corners of her lips.
“Have you always been him?” Nadia said. “Or did you merely commandeer the name?”
“Oh, I created Cheshire,” Tess said, plucking another drive from the wall. “He’s been a very useful identity.”
“Useful for lying to everyone.”
“You’re partially to blame, you know. You’re the one who inspired me to get my hands dirty. It was just psy-ops and hacking until you came along.”
“How gracious of you. I suppose you think…”
She tripped on her words as Tess selected another mind for pilfering.
“Stop doing that!” Nadia screamed. “Look at me!”
Tess paused, halfway to stashing the drive away. Finally, painfully, she turned to face Nadia, those beautiful purple eyes clear of any display for once.
“Those are people!” Nadia said, pointing to the drive. She held her hands up at the walls all around them. “These are all people!”
“Well, multiple copies actually,” Tess said, without a trace of horror. “Scanned before and after death, during various procedures…you know, a good spread per subject. Gotta hand it to your mom—she’s very thorough.”
Nadia fought back a number of vulgar words. “You can’t steal these. This is wrong.”