Catch and Kill

by J D Lasica

  “No, not from around here. But I got my citizen papers last week.”

  Ah, yes, the New Republic of Samana Cay.

  The opulent resort and theme parks were a shot across the bow at nearby Paradise Island in the Bahamas with its lavish Atlantis and Baha Mar compounds. Only three countries dared recognize Samana Cay’s sovereignty after it declared independence. The rest of the world had no reason to poke a stick at the United States, which was wary of this weird little potential troublemaker that joined the neighborhood.

  Lucid came up from below deck and approached them. “Mr. Bayless, welcome to our humble retreat. I trust Rachel is treating you right.”

  “She’s a superb ambassador.”

  “Not only an ambassador. She’s our head of hospitality. I hope you’ll take advantage of the many amenities we offer during your stay.” He gestured toward a large promontory jutting out from the cliffs up to their left. “Just behind our race track you can see the edge of War Games Valley. For those who missed out on the real thing and want a real-life simulation on the battlefield.”

  “Sounds interesting.” Actually, it sounded awful, but he was here to get the flavor of the place in all its over-the-top virtual excesses.

  Rachel slipped on her shades and poked around in her satchel. She produced an eyeglass case, opened it, and handed him a pair of glasses. “Here’s your Eyewear. Titanium Dita Mach glasses. Please keep them on during your island tour. You’ll have the option to swap them out when you arrive.”

  They were the latest-generation smartglasses with miniature audio speakers embedded in the earpiece. He looked them over and slipped them on. “Perfect fit!” Not surprising, given the facial measurements he’d sent them. Within seconds the lenses darkened into sunglasses to ward off the tropical sun.

  He turned back to the wheel when an enormous sailfish flew out of the water a dozen feet off the ship’s bow and landed with a thundering splash. My God! That thing had to be thirty feet long!

  He spun to face them “Did you see that? Was that real?”

  Rachel let out a high-pitched laugh. “Was it?”

  “Man!” Alex held up his empty cup. “What was in that drink?”

  “I saw it, too.” Lucid gave his shoulder a comforting you’re-not-going-crazy pat.

  The enormous yacht shifted into a lower speed on its own as the marina came into view. The ship parked itself next to the pier, two deck hands tied the ropes to the dock pilings, and they hopped off. Lucid led the procession.

  At the end of the pier, Alex saw the hillside rise to a plateau high above the waterline. He figured they’d have to climb a steep hill or staircase. Instead, he saw a long escalator at the bottom with a sturdy tentlike fabric covering patterned with tropical flowers.

  “Stairway to heaven!” one of the guests shouted.

  They stepped aboard and took in the spectacular view of the aquamarine bays and lagoons. The scent of hibiscus wafted through the tropical air.

  They emerged in the middle of a long promenade. As they moved through the crowd, blue and orange butterflies with six-inch wingspans fluttered above them. Virtual pets walked beside their owners—dogs with gold fur, kittens in rainbow colors. Princesses, unicorns, and bunnies frolicked amid the bushes lining the walkway. This is what Alice in Wonderland must have felt like.

  “Nice unicorns,” Alex said.

  Rachel stopped in her tracks, came up to his face, inspected his Eyewear, and made an adjustment. “Sorry! You were in Little Girl Mode. You should be synced correctly now.”

  The scene took on a different feel now. Less fanciful, more imposing. Off to the right, a Ferris wheel soared to an enormous height, disappearing behind a patch of clouds. Zombies lurked on a nearby hillside. In the distance, a flying saucer shot laser beams at a Godzilla-like monster.

  Lucid steered the group onto a side walkway with cute little storefronts. He went up to a window and spoke to the elderly proprietor in bright Caribbean garb. The man looked over the group of new arrivals and nodded. A moment later, the man opened the door to his shop and ushered the group in.

  “What’s this for?” Alex asked.

  “All new arrivals get chipped,” Rachel said. “Don’t worry, it’s painless and temporary.”

  He wasn’t wild about the idea, but when it was his turn at the counter, he held out his right hand and watched as the shop owner inserted a thin microchip into the fleshy part between his left thumb and index finger. This will make good color for the story.

  “Congrats.” Rachel inspected his hand. “You’re now a chipper.”

  “Haven’t heard much about these things.” His palm felt sore, but it wasn’t bleeding.

  “You’ll find it’s a convenient way to get around. They’re all the rage in Scandinavia. People like the convenience of starting their cars, storing medical information, paying for items with the wave of their hand. Did you know Sweden’s national rail network has been biochip-capable since 2015?”

  “We’re not in Sweden.”

  “You’ll see how they’re used on the island.”

  Soon they were out the door and back on the main plaza. Hundreds of tourists mobbed the granite plazas, gawking at high-end merchandise in shop windows or zipping around on Segways. Just ahead of them, a masked figure atop a hoverboard approached, shooting flames into the sky. The figure lowered his bazooka-like weapon and aimed. A burst of fireballs hurtled toward them.

  “Get down!” Alex yelled and yanked Rachel to the ground out of the line of fire.

  As they crashed to the pavement, Alex’s Eyewear slipped down his nose and he saw the assailant—a young boy firing an air gun.

  “Quite heroic.” Lucid loomed above them. He helped Rachel to her feet.

  Alex rose and brushed himself off. “Well, that was a rush.”

  Rachel came up and brought his palm up to the side of his glasses. “You can hit the Reality Mode button on the right of your Eyewear to toggle off Fantasy Mode at any time.” She held her wrist to her mouth and spoke into her bracelet to record an audio note. “May need to dial back a few things.”

  “But I smelled the burning embers from the flames,” Alex protested.

  “The bottoms of your frames have little air vents.”

  He removed his glasses to look closer and saw the tiny nozzles. “Sight, sound, smell. Three of the five senses. Impressive.”

  “Actually, all five,” Lucid said. “You’ll experience touch and taste during Fantasy Live.”

  As they resumed their trek, Alex tapped on Reality Mode to see what was real or simulated. In the center of the town square, a dozen women in bikinis paraded across the stage in a beauty contest in front of a lively crowd.

  “Yes, quite real,” Rachel said.

  “Aren’t beauty contests a little retro?” he asked.

  Lucid twisted his lips into a condescending smile. “This isn’t America, Mr. Bayless. There is no culture of political correctness on Samana Cay. My background is in evolutionary biology. And a basic fact of nature is that both men and women need variety. In earlier eras, the need to procreate meant males in particular took multiple partners. It’s hard-wired into our genes to propagate the species. Perhaps we’re not meant to mate for life.”

  Alex nodded. That outlook would make a Neanderthal blush. But it’ll be great fodder for my series.

  They passed through the Maker Zone, a whimsical theme park for geeks. Creative types from the Caribbean, the Bahamas, and the world over operated arts and crafts stalls next to thirty-foot-tall metal sculptures of fire-breathing serpents and water-spouting fanged fish. As they passed through each zone, Rachel pointed out the virtual world theme parks offering glorified amusement park rides and the more elaborate immersive role-playing games.

  “Almost there,” Rachel said. “There’s a cocktail reception in an hour followed by a brief welcome from the Chairman.”

  “The Chairman?”

  “Chairman Incognito is the ultimate authority in our island republic.�
�

  “So I’ll get to meet him?” Alex asked.

  “Not exactly. You’ll see.”

  At the next intersection, four security guards in camouflage uniforms and olive berets chatted with each other, semi-auto weapons at their sides. The lettering across the back of their uniforms read, GUARDIANS. Two blocks ahead Alex spotted another unit of military police smoking cigarettes below a bank of CCTV cameras positioned at the intersection.

  “Are all these armed guards and security cameras necessary?” he asked Rachel.

  “The Guardians are here for the safety of our guests. As for the cameras, they’re part of our Sharp Eyes security network. Borrowed the name and the idea from the Chinese. Today crime is almost nonexistent on Samana Cay.”

  “Is that right? What about personal privacy?” He wasn’t buying the virtues of mass surveillance.

  “Statistics don’t lie, Andrew. We have a different attitude toward privacy on the island. While Chinese culture equates privacy with seclusion or secrecy—a negative value—we hold a different view. You have complete privacy in your own home, but in public places, security comes first.”

  Lucid had been mingling with other guests further back in the procession. He rejoined the front of the line and turned to him. “Andrew, I understand we have a mutual acquaintance.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Kaden Baker. Have you spoken with her recently?”

  That rocked him. Kaden forged his identity to get him into Fantasy Live. If Lucid knows about Kaden, it could be a big problem. Are they monitoring my texts?

  “How do you know Kaden?”

  “Samana Cay supports many philanthropic organizations. Kaden was due to receive an award at one of our events last night. We need to present her with a check. In person.”

  “Haven’t spoken with her in weeks.”

  “Very well. If you hear from her, let her know we need to get in touch.”

  That troubled him. Alex decided he’d find an ultra-secure satellite uplink to communicate with Kaden and find out what was going on.

  At last they reached what looked like a gated community on the leeward side of the island. The stone pathway led to a pretty, low-slung modern wood and glass building perched atop a small hill behind a security gate. The porter and a dozen other guests behind them waited. Rachel waved her empty hand in front of an electronic touchpad. The wrought-iron gate clicked open.

  “Welcome to Fantasy Live Resort,” she announced.

  Lucid took a step forward and shook Alex’s hand. “I must take my leave. I will see you at the reception, Andrew.”

  Guests made their way to their luxury villas. Rachel led him to his villa suite at the end of the building. “Go ahead, wave your hand,” she said.

  He waved it in front of the small electronic pad where you’d expect to see a lock and keyhole. A soothing computerized voice said, “Welcome, Andrew.” The door glided open.

  He stepped inside. The room had an upscale tropical design with ceiling fans, marble floor, light woods, elegant wall decor, and cozy sofas and armchairs. An indoor infinity pool pressed up against floor-to-ceiling windows.

  He peered through the window. “Look at that view!”

  “You have a private veranda,” Rachel said.

  He stepped onto the patio balcony and felt a refreshing sea breeze. Turquoise waters lapped a long stretch of white sand. A dozen private cabanas lined the beach. So far he was getting mixed signals from Samana Cay: a relaxing, feel-good Bahamas vibe on the surface interlaced with Silicon Valley tech influences, Europop flavorings, and a heavy dose of Chinese authoritarianism.

  Rachel moved directly in front of him. He noticed the bracelet on her wrist now glowed a light green. She took his hand in hers and positioned it on top of her left breast.

  He drew back, startled, but she kept his hand in place. Was this a test?

  “Do you know what this means?” she asked.

  He felt aroused even though he knew he shouldn’t. “That you like me?”

  “It means I’m an Opt-In. Now, let’s go to the Bliss Lounge so you can become more familiar with the Terms.”

  10

  Brooklyn

  Kaden followed this stranger who claimed to be her father into Big Sal’s, a hole in the wall on the first floor of a brownstone one block away. The place was nearly deserted. They sat at a small square pine table toward the back.

  Bo fidgeted with the menu. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “That makes two of us. But I haven’t changed my mind.”

  The waitress took their orders. Two coffees. Chef salad for Bo. A protein power wrap, some kind of grilled chicken and mixed greens combo, for her.

  Bo frowned as he watched the only other couple in the place taking photos of their food. “Never got that. Is the food supposed to smile?” Then his expression softened and he met her eyes with a steady gaze. “I imagined this day a thousand times. It never played out this way.”

  Never played out this way for me, either. Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know I was adopted.

  She picked up a glass of water and drank it to calm her nerves.

  “Are you left-handed?” Bo watched her and picked up his glass with his left hand.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “You got that from me.” He smiled. “Sorry, I guess.”

  Time to get down to business. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” she said.

  He sipped from his water. “Your mother was an amazing woman. Let’s start there. Beautiful, kind, funny. So full of life. I’ve never met anyone else like Deirdre.”

  “How’d you meet?” If this guy is legit, she wanted to hear more about her mother. The college friends she’d tracked down in the past month recalled only so much about her.

  “I was playing beach volleyball with some buddies in Santa Monica. Deirdre was watching us with some of her female friends. They asked if they could join us.” A far-away look came to his face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

  Kaden stayed quiet, letting him finish the story.

  “I was a little older, twenty-five. Flat broke. Just started working as an intelligence analyst, telecommuting from home at first. Deirdre was from another world. Living in a mansion in Bel Air. She could have had any guy she wanted.”

  The waitress returned and poured their coffees. Bo waited for her to leave.

  “For some reason, she fell for me. She said she liked my smile.” He flashed it again, that sideways thing he did with his mouth. Yeah, I could see that.

  He went on with his story. “I only had a few weeks before I had to leave for D.C. We spent every free moment together. The chemistry was torrid—if you held up a match it’d go off.

  “But we were careless—no, I was stupid. Didn’t use protection. Deirdre missed her next period. And when she found out, she didn’t hesitate, not once. She wanted to keep the baby. I offered to marry her, quit my job, stay out West. She wouldn’t hear of it. Said we could always get married once you came along and things settled down for me.”

  She barely breathed while taking this in. It seemed plausible—the story of how she came to be. So very different from the lie her adoptive father told her about her mother sleeping around and how they didn’t know who the father was.

  “As you probably guessed, things never settled down. I’d fly out on holidays to see you both. But by then I was in the field on covert assignments in Europe and Asia.”

  She had long ago blocked out those terrible memories of the holidays during her childhood. But Bo was talking about when she was two or three, before all the drama.

  “Just for the record, your name isn’t on my birth certificate,” she pointed out.

  “It isn’t?” He considered that. “I’m not surprised. Your grandfather would have arranged that.”

  Kaden nodded. She knew Randolph Blackburn was capable of anything. “So you knew my grandfather back then.”

  “Yeah. We weren’t big fans of each other.” He lea
ned forward and lowered his voice to conspiratorial level. “If you want to take a drop of blood, we could do a DNA test right now. There’s got to be an app for that.”

  She considered his offer. Couldn’t just take his word that he was her father.

  “Wait, I’ve got something better.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a color photo. It was old and crinkled, faded like a memory. He handed it to her.

  The photo showed three people in a hospital room. Her real mother was lying in a hospital bed—she recognized Deirdre from the photo she’d added to her pendant. Deirdre held a baby in her arms. Bo stood at their side with a blissful expression.

  They looked … like a real family. The kind of family she always wanted. Still, she felt a coil of angst about this whole reunion thing, if that’s what it was.

  “Keep it,” he said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks, Bo. I’m definitely not ready to call you Dad.”

  His lips twisted into a wistful smile, and she thought she saw his eyes watering. He nodded.

  “You said you’d be willing to get your DNA tested?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m not a very trusting person. Let’s go ahead.”

  “All right.”

  She felt bad asking him to do that. You’re my real dad? Prove it! But no harm in being certain. “What’s your last name, anyway?”

  “Finnerty.”

  “Finnerty.” She tried it out on her tongue. “So I’m Irish?”

  “Half, anyway.”

  She was still pulling little bits of her identity out of the air, like assembling a puzzle. She wanted to try the words out on her tongue. “I’m half Irish.”

  Bo smiled but kept glancing outside. The last hints of daylight spilled through the window as dusk gave way to night and the first LED street lights turned on with their halo glow.

  “You looking for someone?” she asked.

  “I want to make sure we’re not being watched. Hard to know who to trust.”

  She wondered if he was being paranoid, but the attack last night proved the threat was real.