Silver's Gods

by Rich X Curtis

  I shook my head. “We need to do this. See it through,” I said. Too late to do anything else, I thought. It was the only option that didn’t involve running and hiding. I wasn’t even sure we could run, now. The police were getting too good, too connected, coordinated. Used to be you could just leave town and that would be that, mostly. No longer. Evasion now meant a huge hassle, going off the grid for weeks, maybe months. It might not be enough. Computers, cameras, facial recognition algorithms meant we’d be at risk forever in this New World. “We’d be running forever. I’m sick of running.”

  Gold nodded. She looked at Smoke. “So, we’re in. Tell them.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Smoke opened his eyes. Not the courtyard with the weather-pocked stone globe. A dim room, with a semicircle of broad steps. They were there, watching him. The crone, called Grandmother, the bald, brown child they called the Boy, the blind man who was one of their teachers. Others he didn’t recognize, perhaps twenty. There was a hushed silence as they watched him.

  He licked his lips. “They will help us,” he said. “We will go after the Mind, to take possession.”

  “The Mind is likely not portable,” said the Boy, from the front row. “What does possession mean?”

  “It is in a building in a remote place. Mountainous, near a small hydroelectric dam dedicated to power generation for the local town. We will take it by force,” he said. He shrugged. “Try to anyway.”

  “Are they confident?” the crone asked. She peered at him from under her orange cowl.

  “They seem to be,” he said. “They are skilled at combat, more so than me. Fast and lethal.” He nodded to her to convince her of this. “I’ve seen them in action. Against the police or guards, they will be effective.”

  “We cannot provide help in this,” a tall Guide said from the back of the room. Smoke thought he looked familiar, but all Guides were of a similar stamp, dressed in their field browns and greens. This one’s eyes shone in the dim light. Gray eyes. “It would be better if we could speak directly with them.”

  “They will not,” Smoke blurted, shaking his head. “They are adamant. No alterations.” The Guide nodded.

  “There is little time,” the crone said, waving it away. “It is immaterial. We will rely on you and their efforts to take possession. Assuming you do, we will talk then. There is much we must prepare for, here.” Smoke saw the Boy nod.

  “How will you speak to it?” Smoke asked. “To the Mind? It is there and we…you are here.” He bowed his head and looked up. “I do not understand this.”

  The Boy tutted at him. “We spoke of this. It will become clear when you have it,” said the Boy. “We will check in twice daily, twelve hours apart. This will be enough. If you succeed, we will provide instructions as to the next steps.” He smiled at Smoke. “Tell them their partnership is welcome, and we wish them every success.”

  “But what—” But the Boy smiled and snapped his fingers in front of his face. Snap.

  And it was too late. He was back in the kitchen of the Santa Cruz house.

  “—about the...” he trailed off.

  Silver and Gold were looking at him. Gold didn’t quite have the gun trained at his head, but he could see her hand, relaxed, near it on the table. She smiled at him. Her teeth were very white.

  “What did they say?” Silver asked from her perch on the island.

  “They said that we’re partners now, and that they welcome your help.” He was angry and tried not to show it. He rubbed his temples, took a deep breath.

  “You quarreled with them?” Gold asked, watching him.

  “No, not really.” He looked at her. Maybe she could understand how he felt. Maybe they both could. “I just don’t enjoy being a servant.”

  Silver laughed, and Gold’s smile widened. “Welcome to our world,” Gold said. “Slaves to the gods.” She looked at him searchingly. “I have been their servant for forever.” She smiled. “Forever and forever and forever,” she continued, as if to herself, singsong.

  “They won’t tell me how…” He searched for the words. “How they can talk to it. Once we have it, I mean.” He spread his hands. “Usually they answer my questions, but this one I have asked twice, and they evade it.”

  Smoke and Gold glanced at each other. “Machines can’t come here, you said,” Silver said. A statement, but with a slight lilt of a question behind it.

  He nodded. “Only small things, close to the skin. And humans, they said. And their probes, which are not really machines but energies of some kind. For sensing. I gather they are crude portals for sensing.”

  “Do you know how those work?” Silver asked, leaning forward.

  “No,” Smoke said, shaking his head and spreading his hands. “They taught us they can probe Worlds to look for signs of industrial development and progress towards building Minds. They showed us images, before we went to places, but they were poor quality, as I recall.” He looked up. “They said it took a lot of energy to get them. I remember that. They were valuable, and we had gathered them at great effort.” He looked up. “I remember that before I went to several places. During the briefings. They said it to make sure I paid attention, I think.” He added, “They also said it took a lot of energy to bring me back and forth, but it was manageable.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “Energy requirements,” Silver said. “They worry about spending too much and balancing it against their supply.”

  Gold waved her away from the couch. “Don’t bother trying to understand the gods and their ways. It doesn’t work.”

  “They’re not gods,” Silver said. “Not like ours.”

  “Aren’t they?” Gold said, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

  Smoke put his head in his hands, covering his eyes.

  Silver, looking back at Smoke, tried to mollify him. “Cheer up. They haven’t taken you back yet.”

  “Yet,” said Gold, smiling at him.

  “Ignore her,” Silver said to him. “She gets this way sometimes. When do you check in with them next?”

  “What way?” Gold asked. Silver ignored her, keeping her eyes on Smoke.

  “Twelve hours,” he said. “They will expect progress reports.”

  “As they should,” I said. “So let’s make some progress.”

  She and Gold looked at each other, and Smoke felt some conversation pass between them, subtle and quick, but like an old, long-married couple, perhaps, or siblings with their secret language. He had heard of such, but never seen it. Nor ever had that connection with another. Hollow, he felt. I am hollow inside. Just like they said. A slave to the Center, he thought to himself. Like them.

  “Fine,” Gold said. “Let’s get to work.” She sat up and bent over a small duffel she had brought from the house in the hills. Tossed a fat stack of bills onto the coffee table in front of her. “We’ll need supplies.”

  “Supplies?” Smoke said, looking at the money. “Guns?”

  “I don’t like guns,” Silver said. “Buying them draws attention, and they aren’t that useful for what we will do.”

  “I am pretty sure the guards will have guns,” Smoke said.

  “Your guards had guns,” Gold said, zipping up her bag. She looked at him.

  Smoke licked his lips. That was true enough. He looked at her. “So, what are we buying?”

  Gold looked at Silver. Pushed a notepad, the kind for taking phone messages, at her across the table. She took it up, and clicked the nearby pen, looking like a secretary. She nodded. Gold ticked things off on her fingers.

  “A projector, digital, and cords for video. A laptop, get the cheapest Mac you can buy with cash. PCs are full of malware.” Her mouth seemed to savor the word. Malware. “Black clothes for our friends. Hiking shoes, get their sizes. Not boots, no time to break them in, get those sneakers that look like hiking boots. Black markers, black tape. Bolt cutters, pliers, crowbars, two of each. Missiles, handheld, fat nuts if you can get them.” S
ilver nodded, writing rapidly. “We’ll need food, for here and protein bars for the hike in. Water.”

  “You know where this place is?” Smoke asked, looking at them back and forth.

  Silver nodded. “Jessica told us, more or less,” she said. “I think I can find it, based on what she said. But we’ll ask her to pin it down when we plan our way in.”

  Gold continued. “Get a screen for the projector,” she said. “No good walls here.”

  Silver noted it. “A sheet will do. That should be enough. We must improvise beyond this, but we don’t have a lot of time, so we’re improvising already.”

  “This stuff should all be in town,” Gold said. “We’ll also need a car. Four by four. You want to go?”

  Silver nodded, standing and folding the note in her pocket. She picked up the cash. It was all in hundreds, maybe a hundred bills. “I’ll take Smoke.” She fanned the bills. “These marked?”

  “Leave me here with both my friends?” Gold said, smirking. “The bills should be clean, non-sequential. But I got them from the US Treasury Department, so they could come up if somebody types them in. Be careful.”

  “Try to control yourself,” Silver said. “But see if you can get more out of him about the setup there, the power supply that the thing needs. I’d hate to turn it off by accident.”

  Gold nodded. “If they’re onto us, there won’t be much we can do about it, you know.”

  Silver smiled. “There’s always something.”

  “What do you mean?” Smoke asked. “Who is onto us?”

  “If the feds get wind of us, they could disrupt our plans,” Silver said. “Or, they could, being feds, follow us to learn what we’re up to.” She looked at him. “Either way, we’re screwed. Out of options.”

  “What would they do with you?” Smoke asked.

  “With us?” Silver laughed. “If they caught us, I am thinking a small cell, round-the-clock security, long, boring sessions with small, boring people.” She looked at him. “They would have many questions for us. For you, they would only have you for a few hours, I imagine.”

  He nodded. It was true, the Center would snatch him back if someone arrested him, first chance they got. Maybe.

  “It’s an option for you too,” he said, patting his breast pocket where he had stored the pills. Gold scoffed.

  “Not taking your magic pills, Señor Smoke,” she said. “Not on your life. I’m already a slave, not itching for new masters.”

  Silver looked at him. “I agree with her. We’ll take our chances.”

  Smoke shrugged. “They agreed with you about taking the pills,” he said. “It has to be voluntary, a choice, or it would be counterproductive.”

  Silver frowned thoughtfully, a pulling down of the corners of her mouth. “So,” she said, looking at Gold. “They sound reasonable about that.”

  “Keep your pills,” Gold said. “You should get going. All that should be in town. Don’t go over the hill into San Jose.”

  “I won’t,” Silver said. Then, turning to Smoke. “Keep the pills, just in case. There’s a chance it could be our last option at some point.”

  “I will,” he said. “But like I said, they agree it’s your lives, your choices.”

  “Nice of them,” Silver said. “But, is it? Really? Has it ever been?”

  Chapter Forty

  Jessica sat in her room upstairs, listening to them planning. She could hear them well enough, the house was not very well built, and sound came up from the living room below, through her closet.

  She sat, back against the wall, thinking. Smoke and Silver left to resupply, and she could hear the woman Gold talking with Rodriguez down the hall. In his room? Probably. The woman had draped herself over him like a blanket earlier. Jessica shuddered, thinking of Gold.

  The woman scared her. Silver was odd and was dangerous, but Gold was frightening. Uncontrolled. Wild, smart, and calculating. Why was she talking with the techie, Rodriguez? To learn more about the AI? On her own? Would she share what she learned with the others, with Smoke and Silver? Probably, but maybe not. Gold seemed to have her own mind about things. She had been a Queen, she said, and probably still thought of herself that way. Garcia, Gold. A chameleon playing many roles.

  Jessica strained her ears, lowering herself so she was flat on the floor, listening to the sounds that came up from between the joists. Speech, human voices modulated and in conversation, but words too low to understand. Once, laughter, from Gold. Jessica rolled her eyes. Was she seducing him? It would be like her, she thought. To get what she wanted, or just for kicks. She seemed like that.

  She sat up and looked around her. The furniture was sparse, in a minimal Airbnb style rental, everything useful stripped down. Bed, armchair, a nightstand with a drawer. Mirror and a few paintings on the wall. A small dresser with three empty drawers. The closet held bedding and two pillows. Jessica had looked. Gold, also, when she showed her the room, had looked carefully through everything, nodded at her and left.

  Nothing but the clothes I’m wearing, she thought. I could leave. Now would be the time. Maybe the only time, the only chance she’d get. She fretted. The Army had taught her that the best time to escape was shortly after capture. Had she waited too long? Gold was fast and scary in her anger, but maybe it was worth it. She looked out the window. They were in the hills, high up, away from town. She could see the roofs of other houses down the hillside. Could she make it to them before being caught by a vengeful Gold? Maybe.

  Would there be people there? She had seen no one, no cars since she’d been sitting here. A quiet neighborhood, then. There was a road up above them—she could see a railing through the trees. Could she elude Gold in the woods? She doubted it. The woman seemed competent in just about everything and would think fast. Hit her somehow? Over the head, then run away. She laughed at herself. Not likely. Gold would snap her like a twig. See her coming a mile away.

  She listened. The talking had ceased, but she had heard no doors shutting or footsteps in the hall. There was no sound. Then, a faint creaking. Bedsprings? Jessica’s eyes widened. She was fucking him, then. She shook her head, amazed. No time like the present, then. How? Her mind raced, then she decided on the simplest plan. Get out and try to flag down a car.

  She stood, moving normally as possible. Nothing to bring with her, so that was easy. She opened the door and stepped into the hall, going into the bathroom across from her room. Gold and Rodriguez were two doors down, she thought, and around a slight dogleg corner. She ran the water and filled a cup from the sink with it. Drank. It was cold, faintly sulfurous. She drank another glass. Might be out there awhile. She flushed the toilet and left the bathroom, making what she hoped were normal noises. Gold was listening, she was sure. She could feel her listening.

  In front of the door to her room, she stopped and closed it again, trying to sound normal. Just going to the bathroom, Goldie. Keep fucking your kidnapped techie. Nothing to see here. She felt it snick shut and waited. Just for thirty seconds, listening. It seemed to take forever. Then she tiptoed down the hall, quiet as she could until she reached the stairs. White painted stairwell, all wood. It would creak, she knew, this being a rustic cabin more than a well-built house. She had seconds once it did. She stepped on the first step, listening. No sound. No creaks. I’m just going to the kitchen for a snack. I’m hungry. Not escaping. Of course not. Why would I do that? She had deniability, but she knew Gold would see right through her lies.

  She took the stairs quietly, but not silently. They creaked, and her heart rose in her throat. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, to listen. On the ground floor, the stairs led to the living room, the big picture window leading onto the front deck looking out over the sea, far away and far below. Behind her, the kitchen, leading to a deck, she thought, with a slanted railing with a built-in bench. Hot tub.

  She froze, undecided. Still no sound from upstairs. Front or back. She wavered. Then hurried through the kitchen and out the back, letting
the door slam behind her. Can’t be helped, she thought, blinking at the bright sun. She turned, heading for the stairs leading down to the ground from the elevated back deck, a small manicured lawn, dappled with sunlight, and beyond, a gully, leading around and down the property into the woods. She set her mind on that as she came out of the covered pergola-shaded back deck.

  A shadow dropped on her from above, resolving into arms and legs that wrapped around her neck and waist. She jerked to a stop, held fast as if by iron ropes. Gold swung down onto her from above, one hand gripping a joist of the pergola like a circus trapeze artist. She dropped, left leg releasing Jessica from her grasp to plant firmly on the decking. Gold leaned back, pulling Jessica with her, guiding her momentum down, pivoting, one hand gripping her neck tightly, but not choking. She shifted, slithered through a final pivot, and Jessica was down, lying on the deck with Gold atop her, hand on her throat, legs wrapped around hers, tight as a vise.

  Jessica didn’t struggle. She knew better. Gold was looking at her, eyes bright. “You waited too long in the hallway,” she said. “I have good ears, and I knew you’d run, given the chance. So I gave you a chance.” Jessica tried to breathe, to suck in air and scream. Gold’s grip on her larynx flexed, choking her just a little, and Gold’s chin jutted forward, close to her face. Yeah? You see, her look said, can you see what I can do?

  Jessica nodded, eyes wide. Gold held her just a moment longer, eyes locked with hers. Then she released her grip. Jessica sucked air, gasping. It had taken Gold mere seconds to recapture her. She had been free for maybe a second and a half. She laughed, choking and sputtering. She felt drool on her face. Gold laughed with her.

  Gold was nude, Jessica realized. Not a stitch on her. Her body was long and lean, and her legs locked around Jessica’s thighs. Gold watched her notice, her face very close. “Interrupted you, did I?” Jessica said, trying not to speak into her face. She could feel Gold’s breath on hers. Gold sat back, easing her thighs’ grip around Jessica’s waist, unraveling their legs. Jessica leaned up on her elbows.