by K. F. Breene
She chewed her lip. Was her theory mad? Possibly. It certainly sounded insane.
“What’s the situation with Moxidone’s rocket?” She stalled, pulling up more reports that she knew wouldn’t help her. After all, if there had been more clues, she would’ve figured out the riddle long ago.
“Same as before. Grounded and defended by Toton,” Ryker said.
“Toton has a rocket at their disposal. They have the opportunity to get off that war-riddled planet, yet no one is taking it.” Millicent looked at Ryker. “Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“Toton is the one riddling the planet with war,” Roe said. “They don’t want anyone to escape. As the aggressors, that seems normal to me. Whatever they want is on that rock. And it seems they want to keep it on that rock.”
“Have we scanned the planet for any other rockets or flying devices?” she asked, leading them toward her line of thought.
Roe’s brow furrowed. “Gregon Corp. didn’t have a chance to get their rocket under way. They’re ground bound.”
“Toton stopped Moxidone from leaving, but we can come and go as we please,” she said softly. “Why has this never seemed odd before now?”
“It has.” Ryker shifted. A glimmer of malice sparked in his eyes. “I’ve set defensive measures to keep outsiders from commandeering our rocket. The fact that I haven’t had to use those measures has constantly poked at me.”
She should’ve known Ryker would fill in any holes she’d missed.
“Look, woman. What are you getting at?” Roe demanded.
“You remember when I told you that the long metal piece we took from Toton’s warehouse is a mental warfare weapon, correct?”
“Mostly causes pain or blacking out, right?” Ryker asked.
“Correct. It emits a sort of signal directed at human brains. We never went that route at Moxidone, not with any of the weaponry I developed, or anything that came before me.”
“So?” Roe asked, shifting.
“That sphere we took out of Toton’s warehouse . . . ,” Millicent went on, feeling the shiver down her back. “I couldn’t shake the theory that it was a motherboard. A motherboard that size would have to be for a giant computer, so that discounted my theory, in addition to the strange size ratio of the CPU in comparison to the motherboard. But . . . I’m thinking that a motherboard is exactly what it is.”
“Did you figure out a way to test it?” Roe asked before leaning toward the communication device. The first of the new residents were being helped out of the rocket.
“I did figure out a way, yes,” Millicent said slowly. “But I don’t know how I could follow through without a human brain.”
Roe’s head snapped around. Ryker continued to stare, showing absolutely no emotion. It meant he was processing. He’d probably been waiting for a reveal of this magnitude—it was the only time she drew out her explanations.
“A human brain?” Roe asked.
“I didn’t realize it until today, but Trent poked his nose in and identified some of the prongs in the sphere as the same ones Moxidone’s lab used for brain research. The size is about right. The idea is . . . about right.”
“About right for what?” Roe’s tone turned aggressive. Disgust lined his face.
“The smart doors,” Ryker said evenly. “When they took that girl, she disappeared. There was no blood left behind. It would’ve been easy to deliver a dose of poison, rendering her unconscious, before lifting her body away.”
“Not a dose of poison . . .” Roe turned to face Millicent. “The tech you were trying out. The poor bloke who wandered into one of your makeshift experimental sessions screamed bloody murder.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Millicent closed down the reports. “The default frequency first causes a flash of pain before changing to render the victim unconscious. I’m not sure why that is. It seems unnecessary to me. I was playing with the setting when he walked in, and at the time, it was solely set to cause pain. Maybe they’ve since changed their schematics.”
“Only if they’re concerned about stealth, and from what I’ve heard so far, I don’t think they need it.” A sparkle of violence lit Ryker’s eyes. “The only way to test this sphere is with a live human brain?”
Millicent glanced at Roe. “I image we’d get some sort of signal with any organic brainlike material. The computer might not be able to read it, but it should still try . . .”
Roe shook his head. “You can’t chop up that woman that didn’t make it.” He glanced at the screen—at the people being loaded into the ground transportation. “She had a loved one. We can’t welcome her to Paradise and then tell her that we need her lover’s brain for an experiment.”
“What if we ask nicely?” Ryker asked.
Roe ignored him.
“That isn’t the end of my theory, it’s just the most believable part.” Millicent ran her thumb along the table, stalling. Then she told them about her other thoughts, and what the visitors might be doing on Earth.
“If this is true,” Ryker said, his expression blessedly closed down, “how would our situation change?”
Millicent shared her thoughts on which kinds of minds would work best for those machines. “My kind of mind, Ryker. Yours.” Again, she paused. She couldn’t bring herself to name their children.
A killing edge flashed in Ryker’s eyes. It was hard not to make the connection.
Roe bowed his head. “Danissa’s, as well. And about a dozen others I can think of off the top of my head. All of whom were probably in LA for that summit. The conglomerates always liked to flash their best and brightest at the others as an attempt at intimidation. Toton knew what they were doing with their timing.”
Millicent felt a twinge of discomfort at hearing her sister’s name spoken. Because Roe was right—if Millicent’s brain would work perfectly, so would her sister’s. As of yet, Toton hadn’t captured her. Yet being the operative word.
“But they aren’t trying to use the rocket to come get us,” Ryker said fiercely. “They are allowing us free rein of space travel.”
“Why is that, do you think?” Millicent asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“If any of this is correct”—Roe scratched his chin in thought, a sound like rubbing sandpaper—“then we’re just helping them out. We’re sneaking on to Earth and stealing the best and brightest children, not to mention the hardy, smart people who’ve evaded Toton. Who’s to stop Toton from shutting down our operation and coming to collect?” He paused with a grim face. “Or maybe we have this all wrong.”
“Hopefully we have this all wrong,” Millicent said softly.
“Wrong or right, it’s a risk. One we need to combat.” Ryker pushed away from the wall, standing tall and firm in the center of the room. “If not Toton, then someone will eventually come for us. Moxidone was in the process before Toton started their campaign. We created that need when we took the three most sought-after minds from them. So we can either wait for one of them to come for us, or we can destroy them on their home turf.”
“The conglomerates are already in pieces,” Roe said, his expression grim. “They’re vulnerable. We’d really only need to focus on tearing down Toton. Once that’s accomplished, if we can accomplish it, ripping out the rest of the conglomerate hierarchy would be a breeze. We can keep peace until the government rebuilds and steps in.”
“Do you hear what you’re saying?” Millicent stared at them incredulously. “This is a huge undertaking you’re talking about, and it would mean leaving our home and children to wage war on another planet. One we left for a reason. Think this through.”
“In what world would I let someone threaten our children without trying to stop them?” Ryker asked savagely. “You’re never wrong when you finally lock on to an answer for a riddle. In all the time you’ve been searching, however sporadically, this is the only conclusion that has made sense. And it does make sense. Perfect sense, with all we’ve learned since Toton has emerged from hiding. We can’t know
for sure if you’re correct, but there is a risk. A large one. So the next step is combating that risk. I know we can take Toton down.”
Millicent wiped the comment away. “Of course we can—we’re both highly skilled in systems, warfare, and combat. Toton won’t know what hit them—”
“There’s that royal confidence you accuse her of,” Roe said with a snort. “Too bad it’s made up of dreams and unicorn farts.”
“—but a great many things could go wrong. We’d miss years of our children’s lives for a what-if?”
“Like I said, Millie.” Ryker stared at her gravely. “Someone will come eventually. This is a beautiful planet with bountiful resources—intelligence and nature both. If not Toton, someone else. That is a certainty. Only Toton is a what-if, and a big one at that. Right now, the world is in upheaval. They’re vulnerable, as Roe said, so this is the best time to make a move.”
Millicent cocked a hip, not wanting this to be the solution, but already knowing Ryker was right. “What about establishing a government? That is not something either of us has had training for. We can’t possibly hope to make a positive difference.”
“We’re going to clear the way for democracy,” Ryker said, moving toward the console. “The Rebel Nation can oversee the formation of that democracy so we don’t have a repeated threat down the line. From there, we can keep watch. Snip any uprising threat before it becomes troublesome. No big deal, princess.”
Millicent rolled her eyes. “I’m the one with royal confidence?”
“Roe,” Ryker said, his hands flying over the console. “I temporarily accept your offer of employment to lead the rebels and the pirates on Earth. I’m going to take those conglomerates down, and, cupcake, I want you to join in the fight.”
“Obviously I have to join in the fight or you won’t know where to point your gun,” she said.
“About damn time,” Roe growled. “I was getting tired of asking. Though how you plan to take down Toton, I have no idea. They rule the roost . . .”
“I always know where to point my gun, sweetheart,” Ryker said with an extremely suggestive tone, ignoring Roe. “And where to fire it. My ammo has proved extremely effective.”
Millicent shook her head as a thrill accosted her, both from his tone, which still affected her after all this time, and from the enormity of the undertaking they were planning. She did believe in their abilities, and a large network of people around the world had joined the rebel ranks—some of the very best—but Toton was a foreign entity with a lot of devastating tech. Tech that could possibly think like a human.
She stared out the window and into the bright sunshine, soaking in the beauty of her home. Only a fool would think it was a safe haven.
A pang pierced her heart at the thought of anything happening to her children. She’d left Earth to save one. Now she had three, and they were no closer to being safe. Their family wasn’t in immediate danger, no, but Ryker was right. They’d always known someone would come calling. No conglomerate would lose three expensive staffers and just let it go. If Toton hadn’t started this war, Moxidone staffers would’ve already been on Paradise.
She took a deep breath. “We do this once and for all.” She looked Ryker square in the face. “We take them all out. We’ll cripple the conglomerates, like you said. Roe’s people can help set up this democracy and start fresh, I don’t care. But regardless, we do that, we get out, and we stay out. When we get back here, I will get free rein to create a planetwide defense system, complete with heinous weapons that no one will want to approve until it’s too late. I want my peaceful life, with you and my children. I want this threat to finally end.”
“I’ve been planning for this since we got here, cupcake. Trust me. We got this.”
She huffed and turned toward the door. “Yeah, right. You probably plan to just show up and figure it out from there.”
“She knows me so well.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Roe called. He filled the doorway after she walked through. “Don’t you want to debrief the rocket passengers?”
“I’ll get to it later. I bet a pig brain might fit into that sphere, and one of the animals is ready for slaughter. Two birds with one bullet, as the old saying goes. Then I have to get creative with our arsenal. I have a superpower to bring down—I want the best game in town.”
Chapter 2
Eighteen Months Later
The floor groaned in the wake of the blast. Smoke swirled through the door.
Danissa’s breath was loud in the quiet that followed. Dust floated down from the ceiling and sprinkled her stained suit. She touched her head and winced. Red coated her fingers.
“Are you okay?” Puda whispered in a thick voice from the other side of the room. A pile of rubble lay beside him.
“Yes.” She glanced up at the cracks sprawling above them. “That was close.”
“What set off the bomb?”
Danissa guessed it had been the last of her security. Even if they hadn’t accidentally set off one of the hidden bombs, the silence outside the door was a pretty telling indicator that they hadn’t survived the blast. Meaning Danissa and Puda were now on their own.
She looked at her wrist, then swore. Black-and-white static filtered across her skin. “My implant should be able to activate this hard port at close range . . . Why isn’t it working?”
“Hard port? That’s the thing you call the protected part of the intranet, right?”
Danissa schooled her patience as they crouched on a middle-level floor of a Gregon Corp. building, in the heart of the Los Angeles battle zone between Toton and the other conglomerates. She’d explained it a few times already, but Puda wasn’t on her level of systems knowledge. Hell, no one was on her level anymore. Except for Toton. And they were systematically taking down all the coding spiderwebs and traps she’d set up. She was a match for their best if she had time and focus, but now, always on the run with strange thinking machines chasing her, she was out of her league.
Not for the first time, it made her appreciate just what Millicent Foster had done when she’d made her escape.
“Yes,” she said, picking through various cables before finding one that might work. She plugged one side into a beat-up hologram machine and the other into a console outlet. “It’s the secure line I set up before we had to evacuate our—my—level. I had my team root the line to various landline ports around the city. Toton’s scramblers won’t work on them, and I beefed up the firewall to the point that no one is getting through anytime soon. I want to create a network out of these roots, like Ms. Foster did with that pirate network, but it’s not working with my implant for some reason . . .”
“I don’t . . . understand any of that. You’re so smart, baby. But I thought they took over everyone’s implants.” Puda coughed. “Man, I don’t feel great.”
“They took over a great many, yes. Mine was not one of them, remember? I blocked them out.”
“Of mine, too?”
Danissa turned back in confusion, and then started. Puda’s hand covered his head, and his back was bent forward. A thick line of red dribbled down the side of his face. Her stomach pinched in terror. “Oh Divine, are you okay?”
She rushed to his side before pulling him farther into the flickering light. A huge gash had opened up at the top of his skull. Her stomach squirmed at the gruesomeness of it. “Oh no. We need to put something on that.”
“Huh?” He shook his head before leaning forward and retching.
“A concussion. I bet you have a concussion. Shit. Ummm . . .” Stealing a glance at the ceiling—the cracks weren’t spreading yet—she dashed to the door. A severed leg was five feet from the body from which it had originated. That guard was clearly the one who’d set off the hidden explosive. Another crumpled heap lay off to the right, dead, but not in pieces.
“The security is down,” she said, swallowing back bile. She wiped her hand across her face, clearing away the moisture. “Okay. That’s okay. We’re
still alive. We need to apply pressure to your wound, Puda.”
A thud caused her to turn back. Puda lay sprawled across the ground.
“No! Oh no. Please,” she begged, a thick weight lodging in her chest. Without thinking, she ran to the more intact guard, pulled his knife out of his belt, and then cut off a part of his suit that didn’t have blood. There wasn’t much to choose from. She returned to the small office, pressed the fabric to Puda’s head, and racked her brain for where they might find a Medi-Kit on this floor.
“It probably has the same layout as a floor ten stories up, right?” she asked the silent room. “Ten floors isn’t enough to skimp on medical supplies, is it?”
Granted, while her department had been housed ten floors higher, it had also been in a different building on the other side of town. The layout seemed vaguely similar, but not the same.
“You have to hold this, Puda, okay? Can you hear me?” He didn’t move or make any sound. She felt his pulse and, to reassure herself, the rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive, but if she didn’t get something to help, he wouldn’t stay that way.
“I’m going to go for supplies, okay? Just hang tight.” Out of blind hope, she waited for a response she knew wouldn’t come. Struggling for breath against her panic, she pushed up from her knees and jogged out of the office and around the corner, trying to avoid stepping on any piles of debris. There was no telling where explosives were hidden. Or discarded. There was also no telling why, since Moxidone never seemed to have a clear strategy when employing their various weaponry.
Wires and ceiling tiles hung down, looking like the root system of a giant plant. Piles that had once been work pods littered the floor with an occasional cracked screen standing erect in a sea of desecration. Green light flickered from an exit sign across the large space.
She stopped next to an alcove and stared at the heap of stuff blocking her way. A black hole where the ceiling had caved in loomed above a counter. Beams cut through the darkness.