She disarmed Iz of another handgun and three knives before restraining him despite his disintegrated wrist.
“Fuck you and the government that owns you!” screamed Iz. “You can’t control us all. We’re coming for you! You’ll pay!”
“Sure, pal.” She patted him on the head.
Allison giggled, pointing at Iz. “He’s so red in the face. That’s a pretty color for him.”
Once she got her breath back, the Asian girl shrieked, “The whole system is corrupt. Law is a lie. Anarchy is the only true system of government.”
Nina pulled the girl’s head up by her too-red hair, as gently as one might manage to pick someone up by the hair, and looked her in the eye. “Anarchy is the absence of government. It’s not a system of government.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. We’ve gotta anarchy the government so they stop on oppressing us!”
The security guards exchanged disbelieving glances.
“Allison, come here.”
“Okay,” chirped the teal-haired teen. She hopped down and trotted over. “Hi. I’m Allison.”
Nina kept a straight face. “Hi Allison. Have you taken any fun chems today?”
“Uh huh!” Allison grinned and bounced on her toes like a girl ten years younger. “I haz Tao! Want some?”
“I’m good… thanks. Did your friends take Tao as well?”
Allison shook her head, caught sight of her teal hair waving around, and continued shaking it in a more and more exaggerated manner, laughing at herself.
“Come on, Allison. Focus. Did your friends take Tao?”
“No. I don’t have enough money for Harmony… I get Tao from Rafael ’cause he’ll trade it for anal.” She laughed. “He makes it himself.” Allison held her arms out to the side and spun like an airplane. “He’s a chemist.”
Looks like that Tao has a few extra sparkles in it. Nina leaned close to the girl and swapped to metallurgical scan. She didn’t have any detectable concentrations of metal inside her brain. Hmm. No nanobots… she didn’t go aggressive either.
A Division 1 patrol craft swooped in and landed outside the door. A pair of men in blue armor emerged from it walked in.
“You’re late,” said Nina. “Sorry to waste your time, but I’ve got it. These people are in Division 9 custody.”
The cops looked at her, looked at each other, shrugged, and about-faced.
“Wow,” said the shorter security guard, whose nametag read Chavez. “I wish I could make them go away like that whenever I get pulled over.”
His partner, Fuentes, laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“Hold on, guys. You can still do something here…” She guided Allison over to the Division 1 officers. “This girl’s a minor and she’s not involved in my investigation. Parents want her back. There’s a tag in the system on her record. You two mind givin’ her a ride home… maybe look into why she keeps running away?”
“You got it, ma’am.” Officer Cartagena saluted her before escorting the girl out to their car.
Fuentes cocked his head at her. “Feel bad for the girl? Just lettin’ her go? Why not the other one?”
“That one”―Nina pointed at the red-haired girl―”shot me.”
“Good reason.” Fuentes nodded.
Nina opened a virtual holo panel and added notes to her inquest file. Allison, who dosed the cheaper street-made Tao, hadn’t shown hostility toward authority. The other five had to be on Harmony. Working on a virtual holo-panel, she had the orders written up for medical containment by the time a plain black hover van landed in front of the mausoleum. With any luck, someone would be spending long hours in a lab studying nanobots soon.
“Lieutenant,” said a woman of average height in an all-black operator’s suit. She had her dark brown hair back in a bun and an expression of blasé disinterest that came from being on the job for years. “Operative Brennan… What do we have here?”
Nina gestured at the remaining five punks. “They’re high on H. As soon as I identified myself, they became enraged. I need them checked for nanobots, blood, urine, kidneys. That one”―she pointed to Iz―”goes to Div 1 when we’re done with him. The others you can cut loose. I’ll have a separate inquest ready for him later tonight.”
“Understood.”
Operative Brennan set about directing the rest of her team to collect the fringers, who all continued screaming about how much they despised the government. A fist-sized orb bot glided across the room and set to the task of removing the graffiti with a wide laser that disintegrated the paint from the glass. Nina observed as they dragged them out to the van. One of the boys who’d taken a handgun to the face freaked out and started screaming pleas for his life, expecting ‘the government’ dragged him off to be killed in secret. The red-haired girl inherited that idea, and came unglued as well, bawling like a child and screaming for her parents, though every few words, she lapsed back to anger and cursed them out.
Nina shook her head.
Once the collection team left, she returned to her car.
An hour and eleven minutes later, Nina finished filling out the inquest report of the incident at the mausoleum and leaned away from her desk terminal. She let her head go back against the chair, but didn’t close her eyes. The dim lighting and dark blue walls could’ve lulled her to sleep if not for the strange urge to have lunch. Her biological self didn’t amount to all that much, or need large quantities of nutrients. Of course, she could still enjoy the act of eating, and only felt a little bit wasteful. It wasn’t as though her having lunch made someone else starve. People in bad situations would still be in bad situations regardless of whether she splurged on a chicken sandwich.
“Screw it.”
No sooner had she sat up than a knock came from her door.
Great timing. Guess lunch waits a bit. “Come in.”
Two operatives in black coats entered, one with black hair, one ginger. They removed their sunglasses within a half-second of each other, and tucked them in their pockets.
“Lieutenant,” said the man with black hair. “I’m S-O Espinosa; this is S-O Carroll. We have some information for you concerning the inquest you are currently working on.”
Senior Operatives equated to O2, laterally equivalent to her rank of first lieutenant. For whatever reason, command decided to use the standard military ranking for dolls as well as a different promotion track.
Nina returned a polite nod. “Operatives. Please, have a seat.”
The men took the two chairs facing her desk.
Carroll smiled. “Small world, eh, lieutenant? We caught a break from your friend Dillon in Net Ops.”
“What did Joey do this time?” Nina chuckled.
“Knew someone, apparently.” Espinosa withdrew a NetMini from his coat and wagged it at her. Her terminal and NetMini beeped in reply. “Katya Wolf, formerly Volkov.”
“I know of her. He told me the other night. I put in a request for a meeting with that, umm… Becker fellow.”
Espinosa smiled. “You’re more than welcome to give it a try, but I don’t think he knows much. He’d been inserted into the information technology group at Laughlin-Reed Innovation, a junior network security engineer. While his skills in that regard may be commendable, his grasp of espionage apparently stopped at his dick.”
Nina cracked a smile. “This Volkov woman has a pheromone suite.”
“She had no idea he was even there. We’re fairly certain of that.” Carroll’s expression waxed sympathetic. “Seems like she’s trying rather hard to establish herself in a legitimate employment situation, but not having much luck. She was in the employ of a local fixer, making contact with a disgruntled employee at LRI to smuggle data out. The Corporates assumed we’d sent her in there after him. Couple of meatheads showed up to beat information out of her.”
“Lucky thing for her she had a cute little attack dog,” said Espinosa.
“That kid?” Nina raised an eyebrow.
“Have you read the file?
” asked Carroll.
“Skimmed. Something about a military project.”
Espinosa nodded. “She’s got almost two decades of combat training. Snuck them with a handgun concealed in a stuffed animal. Took the three of them out in a few seconds. Looked like something you’d expect to see some SOG-Delta operator pull off.”
“That kid’s going to be a handful in school.” Carroll winked.
Nina opened the file that came over. Images of Katya’s apartment, the three corpses therein, as well as their files. “So we have four ACC people in the city.”
“All of them were at LRI,” said Espinosa. “Klaus with physical security, Arnold was posing as a pharmaceutical sales consultant, and Gamed joined their onsite repair team three weeks ago.”
“Onsite repair?” Nina tapped her finger on her desk. “That would’ve had him going around to any medical facility using LRI machinery.” Shit. We’re going to have to check over everywhere that guy’s been.
“Correct, though you’ll probably be relieved to hear he performed a mere three service calls. He had only recently finished their training. Despite being chipped with the necessary skills to be competent, the company requires a two-week training course,” said Carroll.
“We didn’t find much at Becker’s apartment. He kept the place relatively clean, but he had a significant stash of Harmony, which tested positive for nanobots. It’s all upstairs in the lab now.”
Oh… that’s good. Those fringers won’t need to be kept too long then. “Well, that’s something.”
“Becker did give up four more individuals embedded at LRI as Corporate operators.” Espinosa sent another file over. “I figured you would want to make the call when to move on them, but I have mobilized surveillance teams as well as tagged them for Penumbras to keep an eye on.”
“That dragon still skittish?” asked Nina. “C-Branch still hasn’t figured out who or what got into their server cluster and kicked Nightwing in his digital balls have they?”
“That’s above our pay grade,” said Espinosa. “But Penumbras didn’t seem too worried about keeping tabs on these four.”
We’re beyond doubt at this point. The ACC is responsible for Harmony. “Thanks. Think Becker’s holding anything back?”
Carroll shook his head. “Doubtful. That Volkov woman’s assessment of him seemed to be accurate.”
“Only got into the OOI because of his parents,” said Carroll.
She shook her head with a somber chuckle. “Pity he won’t be seeing them for a while.”
“If they have any real pull, he’ll probably get released for ‘humanitarian reasons.’ We don’t have him on anything too damning,” said Espinosa.
If anything, Becker’s unchecked libido might’ve just offered me the key to burying this threat. Maybe we should give him a medal.
Nina stared at the faces of four more people, three men and a woman, all who appeared to be normal citizens at a normal job. If not for the adjacent images of them a few years younger and in Corporate Division of Motherland Security uniforms, she wouldn’t have given any of them a second glance. Reinventions… The Laughlin-Reed Innovation employee ID photos showed them with medium-brown skin and slight alterations to their facial geometry to introduce hints of Hispanic and African features, while their military IDs showed three as pale Europeans, and one of the men as Pakistani. Hmm. A significant portion of their medical equipment comes from Pakistan.
“This is quite helpful. Thanks for not jumping on them right away.” She brought up the surveillance logs, which had little of interest aside from them going to and from work. “I’m sure the remaining ones are at least partially aware that we found Becker. It shouldn’t take them long to grasp that Fischer, Mueller, and Tupolev won’t be back. For now, I’d like if your team didn’t spook them. I need to look into how deep LRI goes with this Harmony issue. Whether they’re part of it or just a tool. Of course, if they go off script and become an imminent threat…”
The operatives both rendered a curt nod.
“Got anything else for me? Anything I can help you two with?”
“Becker also provided information regarding a large shipment of modified Placinil. At first, he attempted to claim they’d been sent in from an LRI facility out in the Badlands, though we got him to admit they came from Mexico.”
Espinosa nodded. “We located a cargo truck entering the checkpoint gate two days ago.”
“The drivers”―Carroll brought up a holo-panel showing a pair of large men in white jumpsuits―”Berg Köhler and Steiner Scholz, both from their Department of Motherland Security. As far as we can tell, about equivalent in rank to sergeants. Probably unaware of the scope of their mission other than being drivers.”
Nina frowned at the two smiling men’s images. “Shall I assume that these two have disappeared?”
The two senior operatives bowed their heads. “It seems they have already left our territory, yes. The arrival of that shipment correlates to a recent surge in Harmony on the streets. And we don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Great.” Nina drummed her fingers on the desk. “Any more cheery news?”
“That’s all. We’re still working on Becker, but I wouldn’t hold your breath for anything else. A Zero’s going to rubber-glove him tomorrow, so if he’s hiding anything else, we’ll have it.”
“Right. Thanks.” She stood and shook their hands.
Still desiring lunch, she waited for them to walk out before locking her terminal and heading after them, with a detour to Hardin’s office. She knocked.
“Come in.”
Nina walked up to his desk. “Going to grab a sandwich from Abdul’s, you want anything? And oh, yeah… the Corporates are in LRI like fleas on a stray dog. I just sent you a link to the inquest. Anyone useful transmits everything they see or hear to Mexico. Anyone not useful is conditioned to lash out at authority figures. They’re trying to set off civil unrest.”
Hardin grumbled. “One of those chicken Caesar salad wrap things, and dammit. This could start a war.”
“With or without black olives? And doesn’t matter what I do from here, the attempt is enough. I doubt either side is going to want to escalate things to that point, but there’s probably going to be a few snipers short some bullets.”
“Nix the olives, but tell them extra tomatoes. I’ll give the old man a call and let him know the first shots of the next Corporate War might’ve been fired. I’m also curious if LRI is in on this or not.”
“Got it. Anything to drink?” She backed toward the hall. “Me too. I’m fairly certain that someone at LRI is providing product to four major dealers. Just waiting on a vid to confirm that.”
“Good. Get me a raspberry tea, and while you’re out there, try and stop Armageddon.”
Nina paused at the door. “Right. Caesar wrap, extra tomatoes, hold the end of the world.”
ours of walking put Masaru and Noriko no closer to any visible end to the destroyed city around them. The limousine crashed in a flat, open area where barely any structures had survived beyond outlines of walls a few inches high. The farther they went, the taller their surroundings became. Mangled skeletons of high-rises creaked and groaned in the wind, sometimes a tower slumped into its neighbor like a pair of guys staggering out of a bar late at one in the morning. Though Masaru frequented the city’s night scene, he seldom overindulged sake or other alcohols. His libation of choice had been women; if they were so willing to make themselves available for no reason other than his position, why should he disregard such a gift freely offered? It didn’t mean he had to respect them.
Or himself.
The bars filled with blue-suited workers who’d start showing up around seven or eight straight from work. They’d stagger from fatigue on the way in, and stumble from sake on the way out some time after he’d gone home with a woman or four. How these men made it to work the next day without resembling zombies was one of the great mysteries of the world. He stared into the dark spaces between s
teel beams and dangling fragments of concrete. Some plant life, mostly vines, explored the structure, clawing its way upward toward sunlight that never quite made it down to street level.
Could it be possible to bore of casual sex, of the complete lack of a true connection to another human being? Warm bodies touching sated the moment, but what of the rest of his life?
“You see something?” asked Noriko.
Masaru looked away from the slumping building. “No.”
“It’s been quiet.” She spoke in a soft tone, not quite whispering. “I see some evidence of gunfire, but I can’t tell how old it is.”
“Mmm.” Thin flakes of broken concrete crunched under his shoes. The occasional glint of a glass blob shone from the debris, wherever it had melted and reformed. Cars lay here and there, deformed from a blast wave, frames protruding up from plastic puddles. “If there are such things as ghosts, we likely walk among many.”
Noriko raised her left hand. When Masaru only glanced at her, her eyebrows furrowed. “Stop.”
He took a step back to stand at her side. “I apologize. I am not familiar with your hand signals.”
“Do you hear that?”
Masaru stilled his mind. Soon, the distant whirr of ion thrusters crept into his awareness. “A hovercar. Perhaps Kurotai has sent people to find us.”
“Yes…” Noriko smiled. “I was hoping I didn’t imagine that.” She looked around as if to gauge the sound, and took off at a light jog.
Masaru followed.
At the next cross street, she hooked a left. About five blocks down a canyon of plastisteel wreckage and fallen lampposts, a sleek black hovercar glided along at the level of the second story toward a T intersection where the southbound road forced a turn east or west. While it kicked up an enormous amount of dust, most of the cloud settled low and didn’t obscure the vehicle. The driver made no effort to slow down, heading straight toward the building on the far side of the intersection.
The Harmony Paradox Page 43