Opposition Shift

by Sarah Stone

  At first, Hayden thought she merely meant to rehash the information given to him by the old man, but it was more than that. She gave details that he had glossed over in his rush and in his wariness, unconcerned with making he or Nibiru uncomfortable or frightened. She told the truth with no words to cushion its impact, with no effort to keep the rough edges from slicing them. She didn’t seem to understand how conversation worked, reminding him of Laine in her own way, her humanity so co-mingled with the machine that she was something less and something more than either. The resistance slinger spoke in long strings and then short spurts interspersed with painful pauses.

  “You know about the spark,” she said, “The energy that lives within the Akiaten. It is the old power expressing itself, re-awakening after a long time alone and asleep amongst the fireflies.”

  “We know,” Nibiru said. “We’ve tried to study it, but…it’s like our instruments can’t understand it, can’t lock onto the signal or analyze how it’s transmitted.”

  Hayden was surprised the slinger had let the engineer finish speaking.

  “The old man explained it. Kind of,” Hayden offered.

  “It’s difficult for anyone to understand. Even me,” the resistance slinger said. Her signature seemed to transition its focus through them or behind them as often as she looked at their presence in the code. She wove it while she talked or at least she seemed to, fingers twitching, twisting, the code bending and reconstructing itself in response.

  It was only then that Hayden realized the woman was warping the datascape of CodeSource around her, part of her mind re-coding the server to temporarily act as a lesser shade of MassNet.

  No human being could do such a thing. Hell, no system or AI could do that, and yet here they were, jacked into CodeSource and looking at a woman's face crafted from the streaming data itself.

  “What are you?” Hayden asked suddenly, and from Nibiru's corresponding gasp he knew she'd just become aware of what exactly she was seeing, and how impossible it should have been.

  Her smile looked just as off-putting as Laine’s, maybe more so because it was created by her own imagination.

  “I grew up as a villager in Lithuania, low-grade region, and left to seek my fortune, as anyone would if they could. I became a slinger in Belarus, freelanced with E-Bloc for a lot of years, but I got burned. Caught a kill.exe in MassNet and crashed out before it fried my brain, but I came back fractured.

  “You know how that goes, Hayden Cole, once your mind is broken there's no putting it back together, and the company hollowed me out, dropped me on the streets of Manila. Kapre eventually found me in an alley, said I'd learned the way of the code and brought it back with me.

  “I’m not Akiaten as far as I know. I don't hear the insects and I don't have the thirst, not like the rest of them, but even with the condition, I can still slice, better than I ever could before. My fracture is my power I think, so here I am. There are so few of us, and so many of you."

  There was no hint of pride in her tone as she spoke. Her voice was steady, as though she stated simply the facts and nothing more, no self-indulgent exaggeration.

  “I kept the defenses up for years, shielding us and the energy surrounding us from sight. The Akiaten would silence the various resource explorers and corporate detectives, and I would slash and burn whatever data or evidence they'd managed to extract or discovered by accident. We should have known it would only be a matter of time before the corporations found us.

  “There were enough rumors about this place that the corresponding black hole of information became suspect. You know as well as I that too much time in the datascape takes its toll. My strength is not what it once was and neither is my mind.” Her lip twitched to one side spastically, as if at a private joke.

  “It was my weakness that let a freelance resource explorer survive long enough to get the word out, he was using off-grid analog tech, so I didn't tag him in time for the Akiaten to reach him before his drop. I can't hack what I can't connect to, and now, thanks to all of your corporations, with your spying and your bribes and your shadow runs, everyone else knows too.”

  Her hands spread wide to encompass the enormity of her enemies. Her voice, when it came again, was cracking under the strain. “Every day, all 24 fucking hours of it, they’re on my ass, in our systems. We have a handful of slingers, but it’s not enough. I can’t do it all the time. I try, but I have to sleep sometimes. I have to sleep.”

  Her voice was rising into something panicked, eyes darting from one strand of code to the next as if searching for assassins crouched with blades in its depths.

  She stared into the code, and he and Nibiru exchanged a look, the engineer giving him a helpless shrug. When Lunatic 8 turned back, her eyes looked clear again.

  “I wanted to thank you, both for helping me in the datascape and on behalf of the friends you met in the marketplace. I tell you who I am so that you can see me for what I am. No avatars, no masks, all my circuits exposed, because I need your help.”

  Her dead-tired eyes met Hayden’s, stuck there. “My days are numbered and counting down. There is a place for you among us, Cole, and a throne if you would ride it. And there is space for you as well, Nibiru. There are too few among us who have the power to create and none who can bring to bear the tools of a future that left us behind.”

  Neither of their responses was immediate nor forthcoming, but there was no hint of discouragement in the resistance slinger's haggard face. If anything, her eyes looked to be burning brighter than when she first began speaking.

  Hayden realized then, that there was no possible way he could take her in a fight. He didn’t see how anyone could and still have a life to wake up to when they were jolted out of the datascape.

  She still looked, to him and to Nibiru, as if she knew more than she was telling, as if she knew the path they would take better than they did themselves. The effortless knowledge that resided there was unsettling, and Hayden wasn’t surprised to see his friend look away.

  “We’d like to talk first,” Hayden said, hoping he hadn’t read Nibiru’s skepticism incorrectly.

  “Then talk if you must.” Her voice was fading out, though her hands still wove the code, working even throughout their meeting, never ceasing.

  Despite the exhaustion that blurred the lines of her body, Hayden could not imagine her voluntarily closing her eyes. Someone probably had to drag her bodily from her desk or her throne after she’d fallen asleep with the cables still in.

  Actual sleep was difficult to achieve in the datascape. What little one could get was of the fitful and pitifully unrestive kind, yet he had no doubt she was tired enough that even that would be some manner of respite.

  After a moment of deliberation between the slinger and the engineer, Lunatic 8 added, “If you make the decision I hope you shall, leave through the back exit. Someone will be waiting.”

  The connection broke and they were back in the café looking at each other.

  Hayden removed his jack, packed his equipment and stood. He gave Nibiru one last look walked away.

  A part of her envied him as she watched him walk through the exit indicated. He’d swept past the still half terrified manager, turning his head partially back so she could see his crooked smile before he left her sight. She caught a glimpse through the swinging door of a man with broad shoulders and skeptical eyes, a dark bit of cloth obscuring the rest of his face. His body turned with Hayden’s and the two walked out of sight.

  Nibiru wished her own convictions were so simple, so easily determined and acted upon. Her blood boiled when she thought of the civilians slaughtered and she would do whatever she could to

  keep it from happening again.

  There was a part of her though, that insisted the Akiaten were just as much to blame, a part of her that was still made uneasy by their effortless movements and inhuman jumps, not to mention the teeth that were altogether too sharp. The autopsied corpse was a regular feature in her nightmares, i
n which she kept cutting deeper until she found something that made her scream, as if her unconscious mind could see them for the monsters they were and would not stop torturing her until she accepted that truth. She woke from them with sweat cold on her forehead, and her heart pounding so hard that it hurt, though she could never remember exactly what it was that caused the reaction. This annoying part of her insisted that she could minimize harm best from her current position, perhaps for both sides.

  Her bag was heavy on her shoulder, but she decided to walk all the same. The afternoon heat felt more comforting than suffocating and it gave her the chance to arrange the words of her carefully crafted lies in the right order.

  Unlike Hayden, she was not quite ready to choose a side, but if she did, perhaps staying under Bascilica’s thumb for a bit longer, demonstrating her loyalty, would make her privy to information that the Akiaten could use.

  Of course, she told herself, the same thing could be said about the opposite option. Her knowledge of the Akiaten, of Lunatic 8, could be used for the same purpose by her bosses at Americana. The only difference was the incentive behind each. As of now, she felt drawn further from the Union than she ever had before, and though it frightened her, she only expected the rift to grow wider and harder to cross.

  She saw no sense in pretending, however amusing it would be to keep her mouth shut and simply shrug in confusion when Hayden’s name popped up in concerned questions.

  Nibiru headed straight to Mitchell’s office, it was the only sane move to make, as the security team would have either lost the slingers in the street and reported the dodge or they'd have witnessed Cole leaving and known she was up to something also.

  She would have preferred to spill the news to Bascilica, if only to watch the caricatured emotions play across his face. But an audience with the man was a rare thing, and even for a meeting with the hologram, one usually had to request it well in advance.

  Hayden’s debriefing with him had been a bit of power play theater put on for the other Union executives who were starting to spread the rumor that one of Bascilica's famously risky ventures was finally going to fail.

  Nibiru schooled her face into something impassive, with just a hint of disappointment and shock thrown in for good measure. She entered without a word and sat down.

  Mitchell poured her a glass of water before she’d even gotten going, plunking it down in front of her and waiting for her to take a small drink before he sat down across from her.

  “Consider your next words very carefully, young lady,” The words were low and easy, but his eyes were solid steel.

  “Cole’s gone,” she said simply.

  “Gone,” Mitchell echoed, his voice flat but still threatening. "That comes as no surprise to me given Hayden Cole's service record and personality traits.

  “Nor does it come as a surprise that he managed to ditch the plainclothes security detail, with or without your knowledge being irrelevant. What is of importance, however, is why exactly he chose to go rogue.

  “Overdog has noticed a growing number of irregularities in Cole's work log, especially when compared to the amount of processing power he’d been drawing while jacked in.

  “Transparency is as important to field operations as any number of weapons, hard systems, or specialist equipment. Overdog and I have come to the conclusion that Hayden Cole is being less than transparent with his work, methodologies, and mindset of late, so we allowed him space to make a play.

  “There is a phrase about giving a man just enough rope to hang himself with, and it appears that our man has done so.

  “As his second, Nibiru, you stand to be implicated in any actions he may take, or has taken, and so in your own interest, I suggest you become very forthcoming and very definitive. Right fucking now."

  She had prepared for this and launched into the story she'd prepared herself to spin.

  “Hayden said he's going solo, finding his own gear on the black market and continuing the mission his way. He claims he can get more done on his own, says you'll get regular updates once his wires go hot.”

  Mitchell’s face was a mixture of disappointment and fury. She didn’t mind Mitchell, not really. He was straightforward, military minded, and Nibiru knew there was no malice behind the decisions he made. Some men were paid to make choices that led to other men choking on blood, that was the way the world worked. She didn’t have to like it to know that it was true. He was one such man, and very good at shouldering that burden of command. She hoped the ruse would play to his already building dislike of the brash slinger, and for better or worse, given Cole's history, it was within the realm of possibility. They might not buy it for long, especially since she knew Cole wouldn't be doing any kind of updating. In a day or two, they'd declare him a defector and his name would end up on Laine's hit list.

  She was furious that he hadn't seemed to care about what she was going to have to face by going back without him, though honestly, they both had thought she'd go along with him. This was a mess, and there were no road maps, she was just going to have to make her way moment to moment.

  “That’s against protocol,” Captain Mitchell said, suddenly wearily.

  Nibiru lifted one shoulder. “He’s tired of the protocol.”

  The remainder of the conversation went similarly, Mitchell asking for more details and Nibiru smoothly evading having to give them.

  Overdog had definitely prepped Mitchell for this unofficial interrogation, as the Captain revealed a startling familiarity with the work that she and Hayden had been turning in, and he was all but saying it out loud that he knew they were sandbagging the operation. They had been careful, she and Hayden, but Overdog had his position in the company for a reason, and their ruse looked like it had been uncovered.

  They must not know about the ghost folders yet, or she'd have been met by guards, but the clock was ticking. They didn't have anything on her or Cole, but now that the Union's lead slinger was off the grid and operating on his own, life in the HQ was about to get much more difficult.

  She tried to appear irritated at not knowing more specifics; as Hayden’s friend, or at the very least favored colleague. She would have been angry had he actually gone solo with some vague half-explanation that only led to more curiosity.

  Despite what she thought was excellent acting, Nibiru got the feeling that Mitchell didn’t quite believe her, and the feeling intensified when he spoke again.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, the muscles in his jaw tight to the point that she feared she might hear his teeth cracking.

  “You know I’m gonna have to revoke your travel privs, so consider yourself on lockdown. You are restricted to personal quarters, private workspace, and mess hall, but that's it. You and Cole already broke the rules by ditching your security escort, and damned if Overdog didn't call that right away.

  Bascilica is going to want to speak with you soon, and now that his celebrity slinger is AWOL, I suggest you have more details for him about our progress on the pulse, or he's liable to have you hollowed out of spite.”

  Nibiru nodded, leaned her chair back until it met the wall.

  She could do details.

  It was an engineer’s job to create after all.

  Chapter 6

  The Akiaten stranger had led him through a multitude of streets. Hayden considered himself at least mildly familiar with the overall layout of the city at this point in the game, mostly thanks to all the drone work of late, he was feeling thoroughly lost and confident that his silent companion had made the journey a confusing one on purpose.

  Around every corner they turned or on every rooftop they passed Hayden half expected to see Laine waiting for him, blade in hand or rifle at her shoulder.

  Hayden kept up a running commentary for the first ten or so blocks, taking a morbid sort of pleasure in the looks his words received, which at least gave him something to hold onto.

  He was terrified and excited all at the same time, and running his mouth was the on
ly thing he could do to keep himself somewhat composed. He was way off the grid, and there'd be no coming back from this with regards to the Union. The resistance fighter's expressions in response to the slinger's chatter had ranged from confused to bordering on hostile, and after perhaps a half hour of traveling, he had stopped speaking of his own accord.

  It was tiring to think of the quips and not even have them appreciated. Hayden tried his best not to let the man’s silence unnerve him, but the persistence with which he kept it up was more and more disconcerting.

  He was torn between being glad that Nibiru was still a touch unsure of her loyalties and grateful that she wasn’t going to be killed and dumped in a dark alley with him. She'd have a tough time with Mitchell once security had scooped her up and brought her home, as it was unlikely she'd be able to taxi and walk all the way to HQ without encountering the security escort Hayden had managed to ditch.

  The saving grace was that thus far, Nibiru hadn't actually gone rogue. Her only real transgression was watching Hayden throw his life away without raising the alarm. That in itself could get her in heaps of trouble, but she was valuable, and management would likely just give her a slap on the wrist and put her back to work.

  They’d passed several likely areas for execution and body dumping so far, and at each one, Hayden raised a questioning eyebrow at his escort, though the man had yet to catch onto the joke.

  Of course, there was also the possibility that Overdog would find the ghost folders. Without Hayden around, Nibiru would be the one to pay the price, though they would likely find a more effective and less suspicious way of disposing of the body. Those thoughts bothered him more than the casual consideration of his own death.

  He settled for attempting to pay some measure of attention to their route, though as the sun set on the horizon he found it more difficult, as this part of the city wasn't the sort of endless neon parade he was used to in more developed regions.