by Scott Rhine
The UN investigator paled. “Please. He’s the one decent man I found in the US.”
“Help me save him. Who are you working for?”
“The UN.”
“What work did you do for Mori?”
The programmer winced. “Before I could leave, I had to submit to Ethics formatting. I can’t violate the letter of my confidentiality contract or even tell you what it says.”
“You can’t lie?”
“No,” she said.
Not everyone was formatted to this depth. He needed a way to test this claim. “Do you think Mo is good looking?”
“He’s highly appealing both physically and morally.”
“You’d sleep with him?”
“If not for the chain of command and my disability, in a heartbeat. Do you know the kind of control members of the Rescue Corps have over their bodies? It’s something every girl should try at least once in her life.”
“Don’t you think your sister would object to that characterization if we played her this tape?” asked Stu.
Meeting his gaze, she said, “We discuss such things openly in my family. I told Kelly my opinions before I introduced them. She’s also more his age. Just because I’ll never be happy doesn’t mean she can’t be.”
The knockoff accusation still nagged at Stu. “Did you know she took sperm samples from him?”
“That’s legal and probably relieved Mo’s pain and depression.”
“Why so many times?”
“She certainly didn’t profit from it. You’ve seen her bank accounts—the flight here drained them. I think the first time was to ‘unload his gun’ for safer sex. Maybe he kept asking for it. Kelly used the results to investigate techniques for gender selection. She tells me that if they have a child, she’s confident that she could steer the gender to female with near certainty.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Women never inherit the Override talent. No one knows why.” Somehow the talent would cause women to suffer, and the Magi built in a chromosomal key safeguard into their gift. “If she could force the gender, her child would be safe single- or no-talent. If she helps other women avoid similar pain, I see no harm under the charter.”
The phrase made his anger flare. “If you’re bound by the charter, how did you write malicious software to take control of radio telescopes?”
The abrupt turn threw her for a moment. “I did so as a tester to prevent their launch.”
“Pardon?”
“The space consortium wanted to use a much larger version of the telescope. I proved that it could be weaponized and blocked deployment. The AEC allowed a smaller version in space that didn’t have the fuel capacity or targeting capability for ground assaults.”
Stu nodded. “What about several working in tandem with access to extra fuel tanks?”
“They still wouldn’t penetrate the atmosphere or have much range. I did everything possible to make sure that no one could put more weapons platforms into space.”
“What about space-to-space combat.”
“That might still be possible, but everyone knows about their capabilities. We mandate that all space devices post their specifications on the web so that other craft can avoid them.”
Stu tapped his fingers. “What about people from other planets? You fried the entire crew of Ascension before starting in on the rest of us. I still hear my brother’s screams at night.” Metaphorically, Snowflake was his half-brother. His mother had been the mote of dust that his mental and moral structure had crystallized around. They both shared Mercy’s skill with Icarus fields and gravity.
Eowyn slipped out of her chair in the throes of a seizure.
“Get Dr. Maurier in here!” Stu shouted, propping up the convulsing woman. “Either she just bit a suicide tablet, or she’s hearing about the deaths for the first time.” He used his room card to depress her tongue. “Get her sister, too.”
****
Security transported Eowyn to the infirmary. When asked what might have triggered the violent reaction, Kelly said, “Her formatting gives her grand mals, especially when she tries to discuss the Moris. They screwed her over bad.”
“Can you be more specific?” Stu asked.
Kelly glanced toward Mo, who nodded. “She didn’t agree with the management on the project she worked on for Mori, but she couldn’t tell the authorities anything. That’s why Eleanor has been trying to gather independent evidence. The bastards are always one step ahead of her. What happened on the moon wasn’t an accident. The nano outbreak happened because she got too close. Maybe it was a safety feature of the AI.”
“Artificial intelligence? That’s what she did for Mori Electronics?”
Kelly nodded. “All I know is that the AI likes closed systems and zero-sum games. It wants to see everything. Ellie hinted that was why the Amish were being herded toward the uninhabitable zones.”
“So she was trying to warn Grant but couldn’t use direct references?” Stu asked.
“You’d have to ask Ellie, but it sounds like her.”
“Why did she come to Rio with you?”
“I had to see poor Mo, and she was worried for my safety. She also wanted to warn you before the Devil’s granddaughter sank her fangs into you.”
“I can assure you that Laura is the victim in this scenario.”
Kelly snorted. “Men. You’re not the first one she’s fucked stupid, you know. I’ve read her Nyx files.”
“All the evidence points to your sister for espionage and murder.”
Mo’s fiancée glared at him. Since she was an empath, Stu could actually feel the temperature of his forehead rise from her anger. “Ellie is the most honest person on this planet. She risked everything to help you.”
Stu excused himself. “I have a team meeting to attend, and the succubus in question is the presenter.”
Chapter 33 – Lists
Kieran Llewellyn knew that there were several types of genies. Mira Hollis had been the sort from an X-rated fantasy—rub her the right way and gold coins fell from the sky. Tetsuo Mori was the other kind, the one from cautionary tales. This black djinn hated all mankind and had been sealed in an urn for killing his last master. Kieran opened the jar, knowing that one wrong word while making his wish could doom him. However, a man dying of thirst in the desert had little choice. He made the call. “I apologize for interrupting you at home, sir, but I have a business opportunity for you that hinges on a delicate personal question.”
Mori replied, “I am always looking for worthwhile investments, old friend. You may speak without fear of offending me.”
Translation: the line is secure, get to the point. “Are you really feuding with your granddaughter?”
“She is a willful and duplicitous child.”
Kieran took the plunge. “So you wouldn’t hold me accountable if something happened to her on my campus?”
“Are you offering to remove the family shame?”
“I’d like to make a deal. I’ll trade you a pint of my nephew’s blood, freely given, for an assurance that no one can ever collect that particular bounty again. If the ambassador and his wife happen to be making the beast with two backs when you put a bullet through them, so much the better.”
The old man on the other end wheezed with laughter. “You sound like one of the English kings. Why do you want Ambassador Llewellyn dead?”
“He’s nominating Salome for my board position. It’s an embarrassment to have a member of my own family turned against me by his dick.”
“She can be quite persuasive. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to arrange the accident yourself? I can double the price.”
“I tried. He won’t leave the honeymoon suite. I even offered to pay for a luxury resort,” Kieran complained. “And it needs to be done soon. Luca Maurier just arrived.”
“Hmm. The Golden Goose won’t be far behind, and her guards will complicate matters. I’ll have to contract out. The layers of security around your es
tablishment are still formidable.”
“The party tomorrow night will cause confusion. We’ll have to surge troops so much for the event that we’ll be weak afterward. I can have my men turn a blind eye, and you can control the corporate types,” Kieran suggested.
“Won’t you be blamed?”
“I was in the military for a while. Things like this happen all the time in joint operations. We’ll both concentrate our people on the lower floors, assuming the other is responsible for the upper. Correct instructions will go into effect on separate shifts so it looks like a simple mistake. A small strike team can land on the roof—in and out in minutes.”
Mori asked, “Who could we blame? Where should the evidence I plant lead?
“The Sanctuary folks have a Chinese prisoner in the infirmary, and the group recently ran afoul of Chinese Intelligence in Arabia. It won’t take much to convince the local police.”
“The boy’s inheritance goes to you and the girl’s to me,” offered Mori.
“Done.” After a pause, Kieran added, “You’ll need to kill the huntress Freya, too, on the way down. She might suspect our alliance. I can make certain she’s in my office during the incursion.”
“Our ideal window is between midnight and four in the morning. Signal us when the couple is distracted.”
“I’ll flip the Do Not Disturb indicator on my office line.”
“A pleasure doing business with a member of the nobility,” Mori said, disconnecting.
Next, Kieran called Freya. “What are you doing tomorrow night, beautiful?”
“A stupid damn party for that spoiled bitch.”
“After?”
“By eleven thirty, I’ll be exhausted,” Freya complained.
“Please? All of this has convinced me I need to retire from this circus. I want you with me to celebrate.” He targeted her feminine romantic reflexes. “Stay the night with me. I don’t care who knows about us anymore.”
She agreed.
He made an internal list of things he would have her do to earn her new status in the time before the killers tied up her loose end.
****
Laura paced in the conference room on the embassy level. She had presided at countless meetings as an expert in various subjects. However, now she was entering a new realm. Insecure and worried about heckling, she considered calling it off altogether. A minute before the scheduled start time, Stu strode in. “You’re back already?” she asked.
He put an arm around her and gave her a peck on the cheek … in front of everybody! “I wanted to be here to support my favorite member of the security team.”
“Sexual harassment,” shouted Artemis, jokingly.
Fiona stage-whispered, “Don’t bring anything to class that you’re not willing to share.”
Even Joan laughed. Suddenly, Laura felt at home in this collection of misfits. She wanted to hug the stuffing out of Stu, but that would bring more catcalls and heckling. “Grab a seat,” she told him.
The crowd went, “Whoa” at the innuendo.
“Get a room,” said Hans with a smile. “But move all the breakables out first.”
When the comments died down, Stu explained, “Your mom graciously took the construction project for me. She just signed with Eliezer Protection Services.”
“Don’t they make bomb shelters?” asked Artemis.
Oleander nodded. “And panic rooms. They’re doing this project as a favor. Their daughter, Rachael, was a member of the Sanctuary crew who died in the line of duty. They want to make sure the rest of the crew doesn’t follow.”
Stu changed the subject. “My uncle also wants to know if you’ll be taking classes at the university. Now that you’re in a committed relationship, maybe you could take some math.”
Laura felt warm all over. Committed. “Later.” She dimmed the lights and pointed her stylus at the wall. The slide said, Purpose.
“Since Stu asked me to spearhead recruiting, I researched both astronauts and actives. I like graphs, so you’ll be seeing a lot of them. We need about sixty more experts to round out the next mission for Sanctuary.” She clicked a button to show a graph that resembled a downward ski slope. “The number of astronauts dropped by almost half during the war. Although Icarus drives made space travel more accessible to non-experts, the number of people in space has never reached the old peak levels. In fact, current astronauts have been employed for an average of ten years. Very few new people get hired by the big five aerospace businesses. Most public training programs have closed over the last decade because of this. All existing programs are run by the companies themselves.”
Oleander seemed confused. “Why?”
“To maintain a monopoly. The big five enforce ridiculous non-compete clauses. I’m not sure we could hire astronauts away. In any case, most of them are outside the ideal childbearing range for colonists.” Laura skipped to the slide showing the gender and race breakdown. “A miniscule 1 percent of current astronauts are of African descent. A third are women.”
The crowd booed, not her but the numbers.
The next slide said, Collective Unconscious. “This is by far the most common Magi talent. Most countries don’t even require registration. It’s the only talent that Iran allows because it allows them to spot Actives that try to enter their country illegally.”
Evangeline said, “I saw an article that likened CU to the Human Papaloma Virus, a form of VD that’s so mild and common that some people aren’t even aware they’re carriers.”
Laura nodded. “It spreads a lot like VD. I studied cancer-causing HPV for a while when modeling CU contagion. I even invented something I called the Chastity Vaccine that caused penile cancer, but was harmless to the girls.”
Several of the women at the table perked up at this. Evangeline translated. “So you could inject a young girl with this tailored virus and any man who raped her basically had his dick fall off? Honey, I like how you think. Great deterrent. Just treat the girl and eliminate the disease before she wanted to have sex.”
Laura winced. “We had to scrap the program. Women who forgot about the treatment could infect innocent men. Worse, the disease would carry to any female sex partners or children.”
“You dabbled in biological warfare?” asked Stu.
I toyed with untraceable revenge a few times. “I stopped our company’s research after a few weeks because the side effects were always horrible. Most of these ideas came from the Fortune Enterprises double-aught files we received ten years after Nena Horvath died—all cloning references removed.”
Stu took notes. “Dr. Wannaker’s experiments. That’s where Dr. Baatjies got the clues to solve Male Multiple Syndrome, so we probably have the only copies of that data on Sanctuary. Why would Nena share that with the Moris?”
“Mother helped her survive for a few years after Daniel Fortune passed away.” As part of her NERO planning. Looking at the slide on the projector, Laura said, “Enough rabbit holes. Back to talents. The CU transmission rate is about 14 percent through unprotected intercourse. There are ways to increase or decrease these odds. Although, the contagion could be shared in something as innocuous as food or drink.”
Beside her, Hans screwed the cap back onto his open water bottle.
Smiling, Laura said, “This virus is somewhat intelligent. You have to accept it from the giver on some level. CU is about sharing. In fact, theorists at the CDC claim that the talent wants to be spread. One woman in South Africa infected 320 men.”
She advanced to another graph. “Forty years ago, Fortune Enterprises had about four thousand CU people because they used it as a gateway test for the candidate’s suitability for other Pages. By the time of the war, this had increased to about fifty thousand. Now we have an estimated 520 thousand, based on diffusion and genetic selection rates.”
“How did you get these numbers?” Stu asked, frantically scribbling notes.
“Memory. I hold several patents on CU,” Laura replied.
“Damn y
ou’re smart,” Stu said.
Her cheeks colored a little. “If no active measures are taken, pardon the pun, CUs become the majority on the planet in about eighty years. The CDC speculates that this may have been what the Magi really intended when they brought the Pages. CU alters our cultural and psychological ecosystem.”
Sif asked, “Why aren’t the governments fighting the spread?”
“If the person stays sane, violent crime goes down 30 percent. Crime against other Actives drops 77 percent. Environmental abuse among deep CUs decreases by 90 percent.”
Stu whistled. “So awareness is a virus that could eventually save Earth.”
“If we don’t destroy the planet first,” Artemis grumbled. “If it lowers the occurrence of rape, we should have vaccination drives.”
“I offered to give the mutation away for free in prisons in exchange for reduced sentences, but my grandfather said this would cost us billions in lost intellectual property.” Frowning, Laura advanced to the next slide, The Other Twenty-Eight Talents.
“Due to the secrecy of various programs, we’ll never know the exact number, but I estimate five thousand other types of Actives before the war. Over half were killed. Biological rates of expansion are slow because of medical issues.”
Stu looked excited that he knew an answer. “Families with talents have to get expensive insurance.”
“Yes. In this case, the genetic selection rate for child customization is actually higher than natural inheritance or pair-bond infection. The count of other talents is up to about six thousand now. What does this mean for our recruitment search? Outside the countries where they’re banned, about one person in ten thousand is Active. That rate is slightly higher for women.” She paused for the brief cheer.
Oleander nodded. “Makes sense. Women are more receptive to CU, and female multiples survive. If our goal is to increase the number of Actives globally, we could release the technique to save male multiples before the UN vote. That way, whether the UN accepts us or not, we win in the end.”