by Jacob Whaler
Just a precaution.
Alexa can tell at a glance Jessica is a tough girl who’s been through a lot in the past days and weeks. She’s probably still in combat mode and ready to spring like a tightly twisted carbon fiber. Jessica won’t be trusting and nice when Alexa brings her out of it.
Hopefully Jessica will understand. Time to find out.
Alexa sits on the floor and pulls a gold tube from the side of the backpack. When she presses the top with her thumb, it splits open, revealing a thin glass vial. Reaching forward, she touches the tip of the vial to Jessica’s neck. The orange liquid slowly drains out, flowing through the skin into the bloodstream. She moves three meters away and starts counting.
One, two . . .
Jessica’s eyes shoot open. They trace the room like security cameras and immediately stop on Alexa.
The lunge comes faster than even Alexa could have guessed. Jessica is halfway up to her knees before she pulls against the two rings and crashes back to the floor. Flipping over to her one free arm and leg, Jessica springs to the side, rolls and shoots out toward Alexa, nails bared.
Alexa steps to the side. “When the zylentic hits the system, it’s like getting thrown from the Shanghai Express. Can be a pretty hard landing. Best to just take a few deep breaths until the shock wears off.”
Jessica’s eyes are still dilated like a cat’s. She casts her gaze wildly through the inside of the transport, and then flings herself at her backpack in the corner, ripping open a pocket.
“I already emptied out the weapons.” Alexa walks past her and drops into a chair. “Just hold still so the drugs can stabilize.”
Jessica leans her back against the wall, her fists clenched, back rigid, sweat running down her forehead.
After three minutes, her body relaxes. Eyelids close. Fists uncurl. “Why did you do this?” she says.
“Why?” The air drains out of Alexa’s lungs. “Because I’m crazy, and tired.”
“Tired of killing people?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just tired of following orders.” Alexa fingers her jax. “Either way, we’re partners. Like it or not.”
Jessica tries to pull her ankle away from her wrist, but the rings still stick together. “You expect me to trust you?”
“No one’s asking for your trust.” Alexa brushes the jax, and the rings slide apart. “Just asking that you hear me out. Right now, you and I are looking for exactly the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” Rubbing her sore wrists, Jessica lets her legs splay out in front.
“Matt.”
Jessica’s gaze fixes on Alexa. “You know where he is?”
“Maybe.”
Jessica slowly pushes herself up the wall. “How do I know that all this isn’t just an elaborate hoax. A way to give you access to him.”
“So I can kill him?”
“Maybe.” Jessica says.
“You know I can’t do that.” Alexa smiles. “Not even Ryzaard’s been able to manage that.”
“So where are we going?”
“First, you need to catch up on some history.” Alexa tosses her jax in the air, and Jessica catches it with an open palm. A full color holo jumps up. It shows Ryzaard and five young people sitting at a round table. An intense discussion is going on.
“I recognize Ryzaard. Who are the others?”
“Just watch the holo.”
Jessica stares at it, stopping and replaying it at several points. When it’s over, the holo is sucked back into the jax. She stares straight ahead and then turns her gaze to Alexa.
“Ryzaard is going to kill 20 million people in a few hours.”
The words come out of Jessica’s mouth and hang in the air between them.
“That’s why I had to leave.” Alexa’s gaze goes to the floor. “Paradise isn’t worth the price. I’d rather see the world just muddle along.”
“And there’s only one person in the world right now who can possibly stop Ryzaard.” Jessica’s looks at the silver bracelets on her wrist and ankle. “Is that your plan? Find Matt and hope he’ll clean up the mess you helped make?”
Tempted to silence Jessica, Alexa’s finger hovers over the jax. A current of 300 milliamps through the silver bracelets ought to do the trick. Instead, she opens her fingers and lets the jax drop to the floor. She thinks of telling Jessica the fate that awaited her under Ryzaard’s hands, but decides to skip it.
“I’m not asking for your sympathy,” Alexa says. “I made choices in the past that I’ll have to live with.”
“Then what are you asking of me?”
“A little cooperation. If I know Ryzaard, we’ll have a welcome party when we get to Vancouver.”
“Why Vancouver?”
“Your beloved has been healing people there for the last couple of days. Like a New Testament prophet. It’s all over the Mesh.”
Jessica’s eyes narrow. “Why didn’t Ryzaard try to stop him?”
“Because Matt’s too smart, surrounding himself with thousands of people. Getting himself splashed all over the Mesh.” Alexa glances at her backpack. “You’ll find a couple of pulse rifles in there. One for each of us. Put them together.” She turns and walks to the front of the transport. “Get Matt to listen to me. That’s all I ask.”
CHAPTER 111
How will she find me?
Matt loathes the idea of leaving Vancouver, knowing that all the attention on the Mesh must have made its way to Jessica, if she has access to a jax.
But Vancouver may no longer be here tomorrow.
“I want more!” Yarah looks up at Matt from across the table.
Trust what you felt. She’ll come.
“You like it?”
He smiles at Yarah as she devours the bright reds, blues and yellows of sashimi. Savoring the slow melt of raw fish in his mouth, Matt’s thoughts wander back to the time he first ate sushi with Jessica.
She hated it.
Just keep eating, he had said. And she did. Eventually, she was able to say she could eat it without retching. Then she started to enjoy it. One day, Jessica called Matt with desperation in her voice. The craving had set in.
But Yarah’s craving isn’t learned, it’s inborn. Growing up near the ocean must have instilled an innate piscatorial infatuation.
As she imbibes the fish, Yarah’s eyes drift through the restaurant. “They don’t look scared about the big explosion.”
“Because they don’t believe it will happen. They want proof, but all we have is our dreams.” Matt dips another morsel of toro into soy sauce, holding it up to eye level and letting it fall into his mouth. “People get used to living their lives a certain way. They think it will go on forever.”
Yarah drains the last of her miso soup. As she lays the empty wooden bowl on the table, her brown eyes float past Matt and open up wide. Her chin drops.
A look of pure joy spreads across her face.
Matt hears the distant sound of a bell ringing when the door opens. Whipping around, he follows Yarah’s gaze to the front of the restaurant.
Jessica stands there, alone.
A shiny pulse rifle hangs on one shoulder.
Shooting out of her seat, Yarah jumps up and runs to Jessica, dodging tables and customers on the way. With a mighty leap, she lunges up into Jessica’s waiting arms. Matt is only two steps behind her, forgetting about the sushi.
Jessica’s eyes never leave Matt as he presses against her, the hot breath of his mouth coming close to her ear.
“Love. You.” He says. “I knew you would find me.”
Jessica barely has enough time to hear him say the words before Matt pulls her close and presses his lips into hers. Yarah stands between them like a thin piece of bologna between two slices of bread.
Floating in the kiss, Jessica slowly brings her arms up and puts her palms flat against his chest and nudges him away.
“Listen to me. We have to leave now.” Urgency shouts from Jessica’s eyes. “No time to explain.” She stops a
nd stares into his eyes. “Trust me.”
From the look on her face, Matt doesn’t argue. “Got it.” He breaks free and sprints between the tables back to his chair. With one hand, he slaps a pocketful of IMUs next to the empty plate and grabs the backpack. Then he runs back to the front.
Jessica pulls him out the door as the little bell announces their exit. Yarah clings onto Matt’s shirt and follows.
“Jess, you know about the detonation?” Matt says.
The fear and sorrow burning in her eyes tells him everything.
“Not just one. Not just Vancouver.” Jessica throws another glance at him and breaks into a run, pulling Matt behind her through a maze of strolling pedestrians. She makes a quick right past a corner and sprints toward an open park at the far end of the street.
Matt struggles to keep up with the heavy pack and Yarah in tow. “How many?”
“Hundreds.”
“Casualties?”
“Twenty million.” Jessica calls back “Maybe more.”
“Ryzaard?”
“Yes. But there’s a twist.” Jessica bolts straight across the street just as a car shoots by. “One of his people has defected. My gut instinct says to trust her.”
“No need to hide the Stones.” Matt drops a hand into his pocket and pulls out the cloaking box. With a flick of his wrist, the lid flies open and two Stones drop out. He grabs one and tosses the other to Yarah. “Stay sharp,” he whispers in her direction. “Whoever it is, get in their mind fast. Tell me what you see.”
An air transport rests in the middle of the grass. The familiar double dragon logo of MX Global floats in a 3-D illusion on its side. People have already started to gather, pointing and whispering. Three police officers mingle in the crowd.
Matt instinctively keeps his eyes glued on them.
Jessica pushes through the people to the closed hatch.
As soon as the officers see the commotion, they move quickly to Jessica, eyes darting back and forth between her and the logo.
“Ma’am, I’m sure you understand that we can’t allow—” The officer stops and stares at Matt. “Do you know this woman?”
“It’s OK,” Matt says.
The hatch pops open. Jessica climbs in, pulling Yarah behind her.
“Sorry, officer,” Matt says. “Time to go. Please have the people stand back.” He jumps in through the open hatch and turns. “All of you, get away from Vancouver as soon as you can.” The hatch closes.
Running lights on the transport light up as the rotors hum to life.
“Move back!” the officer yells.
In a flash, the transport jumps up, hangs in the air twenty meters off the ground, and then jerks up and away into the Vancouver skyline.
“She’s up front.” Jessica sinks into a chair with Yarah.
Fighting against the pull of gravity, Matt grabs onto handholds and makes his way to the pilot’s cockpit. By the time he gets there, mountains carpeted in cedar trees float by below. He glances down and sees a woman.
“Have a seat.” Her gaze sweeps to the left. “I think they may have locked onto our position.”
He drops into the co-pilot’s chair. “Who are you?” The Stone is cold in his hand.
“Name’s Alexa. Ryzaard’s right-hand man.” Her trembling fingertips poise over a 3-D tactical screen showing the position of the transport as a green arrow. “But don’t let that bother you. Right now we have bigger problems.” Four red arrows are approaching the transport in a diamond formation, left, right, top, bottom.
“Can you fly?” Matt says.
“Nope.” Alexa grins. “Never sat in the pilot’s chair before tonight. Everyone strap in.” She yells loud enough for Jessica and Yarah to hear in the back, and then turns to Matt. “But don’t worry. I’ve uploaded a basic set of tacticals ripped from a military flight school tutorial. No idea what the ship’s going to do. There’s just one problem.”
“Problem?”
“Weapons. This ship is lightly armored, but its hard-wired to not allow firing against friendlies.” She glances at the four red arrows closing in. “They’re all MX Global. Our ship thinks this is a game. We can run, but we can’t fire back.”
Matt glimpses an object moving out of the corner of his eye and jerks his head right. “I see them.”
“Over here, too.” Alexa says.
Without warning, the transport stops in midair. As the four pursuit ships pass out in front, the transport explodes upward, going into a steep power climb, dancing to the right and left in a twisting, ascending spiral.
With multiple Gs pulling against him, the blood slowly drains out of Matt’s head and he slips close to unconsciousness. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he finds the flow of blood and, using his Stone, forcibly reverses it before it’s too late.
The ship continues to climb without mercy.
“Any control over the flight algorithm? I don’t think we can take much more of this.” With effort, Matt turns his head to the left.
Alexa’s body hangs limp in the pilot’s chair. She’s blacked out.
How are you doing back there, Yarah?
“Fine.” The little girl’s words echo in Matt’s mind like someone shouting in an empty room. “But Jessica just fell asleep.”
As the transport reaches the top of its climb, the pursuers begin to close in. The tactical readout shows multiple lines of yellow next to the red arrows.
The meaning is clear.
A woman’s syn-voice fills the interior of the transport, confirming his fear. “Enemy missile launch. Taking evasive action.”
The transport makes a hard turn from vertical to horizontal, flashing its belly at the stars. Two streaks of fire shoot past the cockpit windows. The missiles detonate in a midair explosion twenty meters away, throwing the transport end over end in an uncontrolled slide.
“Does this ship accept voice commands?” Matt yells.
The reply comes in a calm reply. “Affirmative.”
“Then get us the hell out of here.”
“Confirmed.”
The ship immediately rights itself for a split second and shoots straight down in a death spiral.
Matt’s body pulls against the shoulder straps as the green tops of the mountains rise up to meet him. Another burst of yellow lights up the tactical.
“Evade!”
The ship jerks to the right, pulls out of the dive and skims across the treetops just as two more missiles blow past in a blur, missing the wings by inches and detonating against the mountain slope, throwing up a cloud of dirt and wood debris.
“Evasion algorithm acquired by attackers.” The woman’s voice resonates through the transport. “Probability of imminent projectile impact in excess of ninety-five percent.”
Matt roars at the voice. “Are you able to shoot live ammo?”
“Negative. Live fire not permitted during gaming sequences.”
“But this isn’t a game! They’re firing live ammo at us. Request override.”
After a long pause, the voice finally answers. “Request denied.”
As the transport flies five meters above the treetops, Matt stares forward in desperation. On the tactical screen, red arrows are back in a diamond formation behind the ship.
Another burst of yellow.
The ship jumps up in a diagonal climb to the left. “Impact in four seconds.”
Gripping his Stone, Matt’s eyelids snap shut.
Three, two, one . . .
When the impact comes, a spectacular fire blooms around the transport. Protected by a blue energy bubble from Matt’s Stone, its sides are unscathed.
“Direct hit scored by opponent.” The voice intones. “Game over.”
“Load new game.” Matt yells back at the voice. “Commence attack phase.”
“Confirmed.”
The transport pulls away from the trees in a long upward arc. More missiles slam harmlessly against the energy field, throwing ripples across its surface.
“Wa
rn opponents to break off attack,” Matt says. “Confirm receipt of warning.”
Several seconds pass.
“Receipt confirmed. Attackers refuse to comply.”
Alexa lifts her head and opens her eyes to the blue glow surrounding the ship. “What’s going on?”
Matt holds his Stone, glowing light blue, in his open palm.
An idea pops into his head.
“Ship, can you accept direct interface?”
“Universal interface possible. Please upload sequence.” A slot on the ship’s com flashes white, indicating the point of contact for interface with its systems.
I hope this works, Matt screams in his mind to Yarah.
“Prepare for link.” He closes his eyes and reaches out to the ship’s computer directly, as if it were another mind, like Yarah.
At first, he sees only emptiness, a vacuum.
“Searching for link,” the voice says.
As Matt concentrates on connecting the Stone to the ship’s computer, a small point of light suddenly blossoms in the darkness behind his eyes. Moving forward, he touches it with a finger.
The point explodes into a massive cubic grid of flowing color dots.
“Link found. Indicate point of contact,” the voice says.
One of the dots near the center of the cube flashes on and off in bright red.
Matt moves to it. “I’m attempting contact.” He reaches out to the point, not knowing what to expect as his mind opens to it. “Please confirm.”
“Contact confirmed. Interface accepted. Please provide command.”
“Transfer full control of the ship.”
“Confirmed.”
A digital 3-D grid opens up in Matt’s mind showing the transport’s location, the topography of the local ground surface and the speed and direction of all four attack vessels.
Clarity moves through his thoughts as the ship falls under the direct control of his mind.
Matt had always been good at Meshgames, but this goes far beyond anything he’s ever experienced. Not only is he in complete command of the ship, it’s as if he has become the ship. He jerks it slightly to the right to avoid an incoming missile.
The result is nearly catastrophic.
Alexa blacks out again. A loose slate lying on the floor of the cargo area shatters against the wall.