Keith looked past Cassidy, and pointed at a lone figure walking down the path, as if out of the sunset. It was Cipriana. “We got a request to bring her along. Colonel okayed it.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes with a sigh and sat on the edge of the airlimb bay, with her feet dangling off the side as if she were fishing from a pier. “Busted my butt in a footrace with the princess of serenity.” She sucked her teeth, and looked around, anxious to get going. She hollered out to Cipriana. “Cip! Hurry! If you take much longer, Keith's gonna have to put another quarter in the metre! The Grand Elder already has a shitload of parking tickets on this thing!” She sighed again, and got up, heading to her on-board quarters. “I'm going to go get some breakfast. If Cip ever makes it here, wake me up.”
Keith raised his eyebrows. “Crap, Leftenent, do you always bust your C.O.'s chops like this? By the way, it's nearly 17:00. Bit late for breakfast.”
“She's a tough gal. I dunno, I'm just ready to get this over with, you know?” She sat back down, and considered sarcastically cheering Cipriana on. She settled for just fidgeting until Cipriana came near.
“Cip, what made you feel the need to come along? I mean, you're welcome and all, but...”
Cipriana stepped on board, and crossed her fingers. “I have a hunch.”
Cassidy gave those crossed fingers a cold glance as the engines revved up and the ground fell away. “I thought you were going to stop that.”
Cipriana uncrossed her fingers, and shrugged slightly. “It's efficient.” Efficient or not, Cassidy was growing less and less comfortable knowing there was an artificial mind sharing living space with Cipriana's own. She forced herself to remember that it was the same one that had lived in Marcus peacefully for years.
Cassidy just slightly shook her head, and headed to the airlimb's mess. The mess was more of a 'nook' than a proper mess. There wasn't any proper place to sit down and the selection wasn't that great. Still feeling a bit like a visitor on the airlimb, she didn't want to rummage too much, so she settled for a 'beef stew' flavoured ration pack and a bottle of water. She headed to her quarters as she munched. Sliding open the door revealed Cipriana sitting on the bunk.
“Hey Cip. Does your little friend care to elabourate on 'hunch'?”
Cipriana looked off into nowhere, listening to the ghost. “Not really.” She said, “He says that a hunch is by nature, difficult to explain.”
Cassidy scoffed. “You wouldn't think it possible for him to be that vague.”
“He's pretty unique.” Cipriana's voice lilted off. She looked back at the spear. “You might need that.”
Cassidy had planned on taking it, even though she didn't expect to need it. Aside from having a pile of Storms on her side, this rogue nerd didn't really feel like the same kind of target as Horad. Horad respected the spear, and knew its meaning. This Kirison guy only used Aguei customs to manipulate Horad. It was far more likely that Kirison would get a laugh out of the spear before surrendering to it.
That said, the most satisfying time to shove a spear up someone's nose is when they're laughing at you.
After finishing her ration, she went over to the rack, and lifted the spear out. “I'm not going to sit here picking my nose until we find him. I'm going to go to the ops room, and pick my nose there.” Then looked at Cipriana for a while. “The two of you can come along if you want.”
Cipriana stood gracefully, yet nearly expressionless. Peaceful plus nanites equaled creepy.
Cassidy walked through the narrow airlimb corridor with Cipriana silently trailing behind. They entered the ops room, and Colonel Nafim nodded her head in greeting. “Ladies. We have locals doing the legwork for us. No sense in landing a StormFront on a random street. Might raise a couple eyebrows.”
The city of Densfarn sprawled beneath them, and the early sunset washed a pale orange through the glass obelisks. Cassidy wondered if the people on the ground could appreciate it. She leaned on the spear, and shifted her glance between monitors and windows. The constant babble over the radio easily melded into the background, leaving a false feeling of silence.
Keith was here as well, bent over a control panel alongside another Storm, both of whom were listening closely for relevant news.
Thoughts of Cheryl made their way into Cassidy's mind, and she felt the need to hold Cheryl's hand. Only Cipriana stood nearby, silently crossing and uncrossing her fingers.
“Stop that.” Cassidy whispered to her. Cipriana looked at her hand, and stopped. “Sorry. It has become habit.”
“Well break it.”
“I think I will.”
Suddenly, a red circular icon appeared on several displays, marking a location. The text “PRITAR” was on top of it. Keith spoke up. “Colonel. Local authorities just sent us a VTag. Confirming. Yup. Primary target. It's Kirison.”
Nafim stepped forward to see the virtual tag though the front window. Get me who's in charge there.”
“Roger. Alright, you're live.”
“Hello?” Nafim spoke clearly to the microphone in the ceiling. “This is Colonel Nafim of the G.E.G.. Who am I speaking to?”
“Captain Lemic, fourteenth precinct, Sir.” returned a man's voice, “We have a positive I.D. on your fellow. He's walking around. It's a fairly populated area. He doesn't know anything's up yet.”
“Good. Do not engage.” She gave a hand signal to Keith, and he zoomed one of the displays in on Kirison's position. “Listen,” Nafim continued, “we want a clear target, and we don't want him noticing he's being isolated. Can you do that for me?”
“I can quietly get as many innocents away as I can. Give me ten minutes, and you should have all the elbow room you need. Anything else?”
“Yes, but not quite yet. I'll be in touch.”
“Roger that, Sir.”
~~~
There might be a lot of money to be made with those cockfights, Kirison thought. As long as he had to be under the radar anyway, he may as well profit from it. He wasn't sure about all the technical details of the fight he had seen some time ago, but he was pretty sure he could engineer a champion.
He needed cash. Keeping the nanites and himself fed had depleted his funds quite some time ago, although he was getting pretty darn good at shoplifting.
What a lifestyle change this had been. And it was all Horad's fault. Or Jonathan Coll's. In contrast, he found himself feeling actually grateful to Mr. Book, which was a condition he found terribly uncomfortable.
More comfortable than having to urinate battery acid mind you, but not by much.
It was starting to get dark out. Rush hour was over earlier than expected though. And rather suddenly. Maybe there was a football game on somewhere. The streets were quiet. Really quiet. Three A.M. quiet.
He looked around for a corner store to swipe a snack from. With things so quiet, shoplifting would be especially difficult.
Wait a second. Things are closed.
Everything's closed. That's not right.
Screw the snack, he had to get out of there. Go find a chicken, and get to work. He quickened his pace, looking for someone. Anyone. There was no one around anywhere. He searched for a few blocks, but everything was closed, and nobody was to be seen.
And then the streetlights went out, along with lights from nearby buildings. It was dark. Very dark. Only the last embers of the sunset leaked their way to him through the streets.
He spotted movement. Or did he? Half a block away. It was so bloody dark. This was wrong. It was all wrong. He began to run. He had to find some light, an open store, or just any person.
The darkness ahead seemed to move, revealing two female soldiers in desert army fatigues, one holding a spear. He stopped cold, and could now see the darkness was armed. Heavily.
The unarmed desert soldier spoke to the spear holder. “It's good I came.” she said. Her soft voice could be clearly heard in the surrounding silence..
“Who are you people?!” Kirison yelled, looking around. The soldiers in black were al
l around him, positioning themselves silently.
“I am Leftenent Cassidy Stanton.” Cassidy took the spear into both hands. “Your friend killed the love of my life, because of lies you told him.”
Kirison felt panic grab him. “I didn't tell Horad to kill anybody! He was just supposed to deliver a signal! You can't blame me for that Aguei bastard's crimes!”
Cipriana stepped up beside Cassidy. She grabbed the head of the spear, and dragged her other hand across the edge, bleeding grey. “Very good that I came.”
Kirison's eyes widened, watching the surge of nanites seep out of Cipriana’s palm as she closed her fist. Cassidy pulled the spear away in confusion.
“You have your own crimes to answer for, don't you, Kirison?” Cipriana called out.
His own damn nanites! They were behind it all? “It's you! It's all your fault!” Kirison made the decision, and gave the order to the nanites surging in his own muscles. They moved him faster than he could have on his own. He jumped backwards against Keith, and in one fluid motion, Kirison yanked the rifle away from Keith and held him up as a human shield.
The ghost’s voice resonated in Cipriana’s head. “:::May I?” Upon thinking of approval, before she could even form the word “Go” in her mind, her body was in motion.
The decision was already made. Cipriana’s hand whipped out for Cassidy’s gun. This was not a stand off; the ghost had no intent of pointing a gun and talking. The trigger was already being pulled as the weapon was being aimed, firing the moment the gun was in the desired position.
As the bullet began its flight out of Cassidy's gun, Kirison's human mind was still only processing Cipriana’s sudden motion. The bullet passed by Keith’s head, and sailed into Kirison’s eye.
Kirison staggered back and Keith pulled himself free, along with his rifle. Keith jumped out of the way, smearing Kirison’s blood off his cheek. With the exception of Kirison and the ghost, everyone expected Kirison to fall flat on the ground, dead.
With a bloody mess where his right eye used to be, and a gaping exit wound in the back of his head, Kirison smiled. “Haha! I felt that for a split second! It hurt like a bitch!” This was no longer the original Kirison speaking. The original Kirison was dead. This was a back-up speaking.
“Take him down, take him apart.” Cipriana muttered. The Storms quickly changed position; a rough semi-circle in front of Kirison.
Kirison saw the looks on everyone’s faces. “I realized one day, I was living up here too much!” He tapped his temple a few times. “You can’t put all your eggs in one basket! Redundant backups are your friend! Redundancy is a life saver! Redundancy is a life saver! Redundancy is a life saver! Redundancy-“ He went on laughing, cackling, marveling at the nanite system preserving his own mind.
Cassidy leveled her spear, debating her ability to decapitate. Would lobbing his head off even work? Cipriana put her uninjured hand out in front of Cassidy to hold her back, and stared Cassidy in the eye. “Don’t touch him.” She crossed and uncrossed her fingers, over and over. “We are in agreement. He has to be put down. He’s a zombie.” Cipriana raised her clenched fist, staring intently at it.
Kirison noticed Cipriana and Cassidy, and pulled himself away from the amusement of his own genius. He pointed forcefully at Cipriana. “You've been the problem all along!” He dashed forward, ready to attack.
“Storms!” Cassidy yelled, “Open fire! Take him apart!”
A deluge of bullets battered Kirison, jerking him around, ripping red, wet chunks from him, shattering bone. He tried to run, as if against wind. An upper arm fell loose behind him. His remaining eye wore an expression of amazement as he fell onto a storm drain.
Pain could not reach him. Nothing remained of him that could feel pain. The back-up mind could only monitor damage. Seeing his body ripped apart around him, all he could think of was how surreal it all was.
He couldn’t run. Not as he was.
He knew his original brain was dead already. The body he lived in was no longer needed. He had to accept it. The Kirison that he used to be was dead. He had noting to lose but meat.
:::Kirison Support Colony: Exit
“Alright! Alright already!” Cassidy stood, stunned, staring at the mangled mess that used to be a person. “Cease fire! Zombie or not, he’s not going anywhere!” Kirison was bleeding into the storm drain. She couldn’t look at the mess anymore. She averted her eyes and looked over to Cipriana.
Cipriana stared at Kirison and said calmly, “He’s running. The ghost will follow. Burn the blood on the street.” She opened her clenched fist to reveal a perfectly round grey ball, sitting on the fresh slash across her palm. She walked over to Kirison’s body, and dropped the ball into the storm drain.
Cassidy pointed at the splatter around the body with one hand, and at a gas station half a block away with the other. “Gasoline! Douse it anywhere he may have bled, then burn it!” A few of the Storms ran to get gasoline
:::Kirison Support Colony Nanite #83F872BE: Disconnected.
:::Kirison Support Colony Nanite #83F872BE: Seeking peers.
Countless nanites floated around in the sewer waters, trying desperately to find each other after draining out of Kirison’s body on command. Each held a sliver of Kirison’s mind. A sliver of a copy of it, to be specific.
As more and more of the ‘support colony’ found each other, it became able to think simple thoughts.
“:::I am.”
“:::I am more than just nanites.”
“:::I am Jacob Kirison.”
“:::I used to be flesh.”
While it took only a couple minutes to come to these realizations, the more it knew, and the more nanites that were part of the rebuilt colony, the faster its thought processes were. The grey mass congealed in the running water, soon surpassing the size of a dime.
Thoughts came faster and faster, and functions of Kirison as a person came into being. One of these was a human sense of impatience. Yes, it had only been a couple minutes, if that, but through the lens of digital speed, those minutes were agonizingly slow.
Kirison’s mind had reached all the wisdom of a five year old, and found no way to express what would have been a temper tantrum. The other nanites were coming along too slow!
He wondered if enough of the nanites made it down the drain. There were several complete backups of his mind in his body, but the Storms’ bullets didn’t really give him enough time to ensure that one complete set made it down the drain. He already had redundant copies of a few thousand parts. What if he didn’t come together entirely? What would be missing?
He struggled sightlessly with all of his tiny physical strength to find as many of his nanites as he could in the chaos of the flowing water.
His efforts were interrupted by a surprise.
“:::Hello, Kirison. Or do you prefer 'Samuel'?”
Who the hell was that!? The signal was from something in physical contact with him, and it was speaking his code language.
“:::I’m Kirison!” he replied bluntly with his current level of intelligence. Even as he spoke, he continually collected more nanites, restoring more of his mind.
“:::Kirison, then. Do you know me?” asked the ghost.
“:::I can’t see you!” In his mental soup, Kirison didn’t realize that he didn’t have eyes. It also didn’t occur to him that the voice probably didn’t have much more of a body than he did.
“:::I believe you created me, Kirison.”
That wasn’t right, he never created anything with a voice. “:::I don’t think so, who are you?”
“::: I don't know if you ever gave me a name. I am most commonly called ‘ghost’ lately. I was dropped into the drain as one whole unit, giving me a significant tactical advantage over you. I was originally programmed by you to attach to minds and monitor many aspects of the Yute temple. Why?”
No, it couldn’t be. It shouldn’t behave like this! It shouldn’t even still be functioning! “:::Horad killed you!!”
/> There was a long silence, dirtied by soft signal noise. It gave Kirison time to realize that no other parts of himself had joined up for quite a while. The ghost broke the silence.
“:::Horad tried to kill me. He only succeeded in killing someone important to me.”
“:::Important to you?!” If Kirison had a mouth or lungs, he’d have scoffed. “:::You don’t have the capacity to give a shit!”
“:::As well, they were important to many other people, who are also important to me. It has caused much suffering. Likely even more suffering, by radiating out via social networks.”
Kirison felt a piece of himself removed. Physically gone, or perhaps just turned off. “:::What’s going on!?”
“:::You blame Horad for those deaths. I blamed myself for a while, because Horad came for me.”
The thing had a conscience? “:::You weren’t programmed to hurt any of the test subjects! You even made their lives more enjoyable with a mild narcotic effect!”
“:::Is this how you justified creating me to infect them?”
Kirison couldn’t think of a reply. He had trouble remembering the last thing he had said. More and more of his nanites were becoming useless to him.
“:::Horad was given a great deal of mercy,” the ghost continued, “:::Maybe being human qualifies him to receive mercy.”
“:::I used to be flesh! I am Jacob Kirison!!” He felt panic, and little else.
“:::You used to be flesh. You used to be human. You used to have rights to mercy.” The ghost’s tone was peaceful and sombre. “:::I cannot kill you. Bullets already killed you. You are not Jacob Kirison. Jacob Kirison is dead.”
“:::I AM MORE THAN JUST NANITES!” Kirison shouted silently.
“:::You’re more of a ghost than I am. I really should find a proper name. Some are born with souls, some achieve a soul, some have souls thrust upon them. I wonder were I stand?” The ghost mused existence while taking apart Kirison’s, ripping nanite after nanite off of him, and destroying each one. Erasing its memory and then crushing its microscopic physical form.
Watching Yute Page 33