by D. B. Goodin
“Her sister,” Brody said, looking down at the fallen cyborg.
Brody placed a finger under the functioning cyborg’s chin. She looked up into his eyes. He continued examining her as if she were a piece of meat on display.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
The cyborg looked away for a moment before answering.
“My name is Treeka.”
“Treeka, would you be willing to submit to an examination?” Brody asked.
“What kind of examination?” Melissa said.
“A full-body examination. You said they assaulted her. Besides being a geneticist, I’m also a medical doctor. Here is a list of items I need to perform the examination,” Brody said as he handed a piece of paper to Melissa.
“Some items on the list require a proper medical lab, so I suggest we get an office that either has some of that equipment, or we build our own. To speed things along, I would recommend we rent space in an existing medical facility. Away from high-traffic areas like the entrance or near the building’s pharmacy,” Brody said.
“What do you need me to do?” Nigel said.
“We need to examine Treeka right away, because her programming may include a ‘phone home’ mechanism. This room is shielded, but we need to make sure whatever office we get is too.”
“That’s a lot of work to set up a new medical office. Are you sure we can’t examine her here?” Jet said.
“I can perform a basic examination, but I’ll need a proper lab to do any serious work.”
“You will have all of that. How long will it take to decode her programming?” Melissa asked.
“It depends how good of a hacker Nigel really is,” Brody said.
“He’s the best I’ve seen,” Melissa said.
“He practically brought down the Collective, a reclusive hacker group, all by himself,” Jet said.
Brody nodded. “Good, because everyone will need the best and brightest to solve this puzzle.”
Dr. Brody watched Nigel and Jet busy themselves with inventorying their equipment and looking for the closest hard-wired internet connection. It reminded him of children at play.
“Doctor?” Treeka asked.
As he looked into the cyborg’s eyes, an overwhelming desire to be with her almost consumed him.
There’s something special about her. Perhaps I can help if I can learn more about her past? Brody thought.
“Need to revive Meeka. There are bad people after us.”
“Who is after you?”
“Nozomi wanted to hurt us, but Dr. Ash wouldn’t let her.”
“Who’s Dr. Ash?”
“My creator… I’m so tired,” Treeka said as she closed her eyes.
Dr. Brody checked her vital signs. Her pulse was weak. She appeared dehydrated. He took a saline bag out of a nearby refrigerator, then attached it to an IV stand. It took some effort, but he found a vein on the cyborg.
That should make her feel better. Who is Dr. Ash?
Later that morning
Nigel and Jet spend the next few hours getting prepared to reverse engineer the cyborg’s programmable interface. Although he was a competent programmer and hacker, he only had limited experience deconstructing code and needed to acquire the proper tools.
“Nigel, I need your help,” Brody said.
Nigel looked up from his computer. “Sure, Dr. Brody, be right there.”
“Before Treeka lost consciousness, she was trying to tell me something about the doctor who modified her. I need to find a Dr. Elizabeth Ash. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Nigel thought for a long moment before shaking his head.
“The name sounds familiar, but I’m drawing a blank.”
“She’s dead,” Jet said.
Brody and Nigel gave Jet a surprised look.
“What can you tell me about her?” Brody urged.
“She handled April’s cyborg conditioning. She never tried helping April—she treated April like a science experiment. She and Jeremiah weren’t happy with my training sessions. They said it was taking too long and accelerated matters by running this voidance procedure,” Jet said.
“Disposition voidance?” Dr. Brody asked.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“I’ve been doing some of my own research on Dr. Ash. She published an academic paper on the process a few years ago. Basically, it attempts to speed up the cyborg neural transference. Besides being a very painful procedure, it has side effects. It can cause dissociative identity disorder (DID), a condition known to split the brain hemispheres into separate sections. It can cause the emergence of alternate personalities.”
“Can these other personalities be violent?” Nigel asked.
“It can, but that’s not always the case. The person with DID can wake up in another location with no memory of how they got there.”
“That sounds like sleepwalking. When someone interacts with them, are they coherent?”
“Yes, when their alternate personalities take over, they are high-functioning. Most people that don’t know them might not even notice anything is out of the ordinary,” Brody said.
“So someone with DID can commit murder without even knowing?”
“There have been cases where the person affected has killed several people while carrying on with a normal life.”
“How does that even work?” Jet said.
“The personality with the greatest need commands the body.”
Nigel and Jet said nothing for a long moment.
“Dr. Ash may have used the same or different procedure when creating Treeka. Either way, it would be helpful to know if we are going to help Meeka,” Brody said.
“I remember Dr. Ash telling Jeremiah it was dangerous to perform the disposition voidance technique on April because she wasn’t ready. Even Leviathan agreed,” Jet said.
“What is Leviathan?” Brody asked.
“It’s the AI April assimilated with,” Jet said.
“Is that a problem?” Nigel asked.
“I’m afraid that changes everything. From what I understand, AIs are tricky to hack. Do you think you’re up to the task?”
Nigel smiled. “I never met a computer I couldn’t hack,” he replied.
“That may be, but I wouldn’t underestimate an AI built by a well-funded adversary like Jeremiah Mason.”
“If Leviathan is still connected, then I’ll be able to exploit it. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Argh! I hate mornings,” Freeman said as he fumbled for his alarm clock.
Freeman Johnson looked around his room with blurry eyes. Daylight shone through the window.
Crap, I’m going to be late—again!
A moment later, his red phone, the one he used as his special hacker hotline, buzzed on his nightstand.
I’d better take this!
“Good morning, Freeman, I hope I didn’t wake you,” a female voice said.
“I’m awake,” Freeman said.
“I have seas devoid of water, coasts without a grain of sand, towns without a soul, and mountains without land. What am I?” Dahlia said.
It’s way too early for this shit! I hate riddles, and I woke up too late to check the daily drop. But it shouldn’t be that difficult to figure out, Freeman thought.
Freeman rubbed his eyes as he thought of the answer.
“A map?” Freeman said.
“Correct. It took you long enough. I need a status on the files,” Dahlia said.
“The honey tokens are in place,” Freeman said.
“What is that?” Dahlia asked.
“You can think of them as bait. I created some documents entitled ‘cyborg construction’ and ‘enhanced human potential,’ which will attract the interest of the people you are targeting.”
“How do I know who is assessing these files?”
“I’ll provide a daily report, it’s all part of the service you paid me for,” Freeman explained.
“Will your report include t
he physical location of the person accessing these files?”
“It can, but I will need to change the script if you want to include that. That will be extra.”
“I want as much actionable information as you can give me.”
“Don’t worry, you will have a full dossier on anyone accessing those files.”
“Very well, how do you want to receive your payment?”
“Digibit is fine.”
Chapter 9
Dahlia’s compound, somewhere in the Tatra Mountains
Eva found Vedrana atop one of the peaks overlooking the camp. She appeared to be practicing her stances with a katana. Eva watched as her sparring partner and friend performed a series of complex movements with the sword.
I can see why this is her weapon of choice.
Eva crossed her arms as she watched her friend practice the movements with the grace of a ballerina.
How can she practice in the cold like that? I’m cold, and I’m fully dressed. Her training outfit is showing a lot of skin.
Eva waited until Vedrana was at a stopping point before speaking.
“You practice like you were born with the katana. You look so . . . comfortable with it,” Eva said.
“I was a clumsy girl when I started all those years ago. I have many cuts to prove how bad I was, but practice does make perfect. Is it time for breakfast already? I didn’t hear the bell.”
“No, I wanted a word with you.”
Vedrana put the katana away, then sat on her training mat and gazed out over the training area. Clusters of female fighters were visible from atop the ridge. From this vantage point, the girls were treated to a spectacular view of the various training zones. Some were fighting on a variety of terrain, designed to keep trainees engaged. Others were climbing obstacles that included trees, gigantic boulders, and walls. Eva sat next to her.
“I know it’s an honor to be handpicked by the madam, but I’m a little nervous about leaving this place,” Eva said.
“I’ve never known you to be affected by anything—you’re one of the best fighters I’ve known. And I’ve fought almost everyone here,” Vedrana said.
“I . . . just don’t think I’m ready.”
“I saw how you handled the magister. Even if it was fake, you’re ready.”
“How do you feel about going to America?”
Vedrana considered this for a long moment. She looked over the training area like she was taking inventory of everything below.
“My desires have nothing to do with it. We need to be ready for anything. According to Blanka, the meeting is of utmost importance to the madam, so it is for us as well.”
“It’s just . . .” Eva trailed off.
Vedrana gave Eva an unwavering look.
“Just what?”
“I’ve never been on an airplane, and I’m not familiar with American customs, and my English is terrible.”
“Your English is fine. You speak it every day around Madam and Blanka. Look, we are weapons. Stop that line of thinking, or it will get us both killed. You cannot afford to indulge those feelings.”
A gong sounded three times, which meant it was time for the morning assembly. Vedrana was on her feet and packing her training supplies before Eva even realized.
“Let’s go, I don’t want to be late,” Vedrana told her.
Eva followed her friend at a pace that seemed fast for the terrain, but she kept pace. It took more than five minutes to descend the peak: less than half the average time.
Most of their classmates were already assembled in front of a makeshift stage near the main building. Vedrana took a position behind everyone, but Blanka signaled them to join her atop the stage. Vedrana spotted her.
“I think Blanka wants us close by,” Vedrana said, then quickly navigated the throng of recruits before taking a seat next to her. Eva followed.
“I want you two to stand when your name is called,” Blanka told them.
The girls gave her a nod of acknowledgement.
Dahlia jumped onto the training platform overlooking the crowd of trainees below.
“I’m not much of a speaker, so I’ll be brief,” Dahlia said. “I know all of you have been working tirelessly for our cause, and I wanted to inform you that I have picked two candidates to accompany me on a mission. The assignment will be the ultimate test of readiness.”
She let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
“Vedrana and Eva, please take your places at my side,” Dahlia commanded.
Vedrana and Eva went and stood on either side of Dahlia.
“I’ve had the pleasure of training both of these candidates since they were children. Like many of you, they grew up without a family. Vedrana defended her mother against five men intent on raping her. She slit the throats of three before she was thrown out a window. A traveling minister just happened to be driving by when he saw her lying motionless on the road. The impact broke both of her legs, but she dragged herself to the road before losing consciousness.”
Gasps could be heard from the recruits. Dahlia let that realization kick in. Dahlia didn’t approve of idle gossip and discouraged speaking about their past; she wanted the trainees to think of the compound as their origin. In her mind, each of these girls had been reborn the day she’d accepted them as recruits.
“Eva is an expert at hand-to-hand combat,” Dahlia continued. “The only weapons she needs are her hands. She witnessed the brutal murder of her parents at the age of seven. I almost refused admittance to our group because of her age, but after learning she’d killed five men with her bare hands before getting knocked out by a sixth was most impressive. I have no doubt if that cowardly man hadn’t snuck up on her, she would have remained pure.”
Dahlia surveyed the crowd of trainees before her—who ranged from six to sixteen—and the looks on their faces told her everything she needed to know: she had just created two legends.
“Please take the time to congratulate your sisters on their well-earned status.”
The training area roared with applause.
About thirty minutes later, after Dahlia’s morning briefing a middle-aged woman approached the stage and motioned for Dahlia.
“I have an important call, Ms. Frost. Do you want to take it here?” she asked.
Dahlia answered the question with a cold, calculating gaze. The woman produced the phone and left her. She recognized the number, it was from her associate, Nasri Zubayr Hadad. But she called him Nas. Several moments later, Dahlia moved to the nearby gazebo.
“What do you have for me?” she said.
“I’m a crooked path with many turns by the bay,” the speaker replied. “What is my name?”
“Lombard,” Dahlia said.
“Please hold for his eminence.”
Dahlia heard a few clicking noises before being connected.
“D, did you receive my instructions? I sent word earlier this morning.”
“I’ve been busy training the latest recruits, Nas.”
“Any potentials, for my harem?”
“No, these young women fighters are not suited for your tastes.”
“Call me when you have decoded my message,” Nas said.
Fifteen minutes later, Dahlia entered her study. She’d decorated it like her chateau in Locksbottom. It also reminded her of the son, Hunter. She winced at the thought.
It seems like only yesterday when my plans had gotten thrown away. You could have led sisters into battle, my son.
Dahlia received the encrypted container, which she downloaded on her computer. She took out a worn notepad from her safe. She decrypted the series of letters, numbers, and special characters based on the new system that Nas’s men had come up with.
The message read:
New player introduced:
Sunchee Chen is a man of many talents. He is the oldest member of the Cabal who demands our loyalty. In exchange, he will solve our cash flow problems.
Dahlia called Nas back. Sh
e didn’t like involving him as much, but since losing significant resources after the attack on the island, she needed to rely on the aid of his bank account more often than she would have liked.
“Why do we need this Chen fellow?” Dahlia asked when he answered.
“You can call him an angel investor. He’s interested in the human weapons you are developing,” Nas replied. “He also needs your help to secure other technology.”
“Like what? I’m not a technologist.”
“He just needs some muscle for a job that will yield him the information. Who can you send on short notice?”
“I will pick my two best agents and send over dossiers within the hour.”
“Good, Mr. Chen holds efficiency in high regard. Almost as much as loyalty.”
Chapter 10
Somewhere on the Island of Oahu, October 19th
Freeman checked the online activity for all the spiders he had set up using a technology he grabbed from a private ProgHub page.
Snatching that code was as easy as ever, because ProgHub doesn’t know how to patch.
The code needed to be refactored for his needs, but since the author posted all the source code and libraries, it took far less time than it would have otherwise.
Only 994 hits?
Freeman couldn’t believe there were less than one thousand Magis in the world of the Colossal Machine. The last figures he’d checked stated there were well past thirteen million active players and rising every day. Either there was some kind of mass-extinction event Freeman had not heard of, or that rank was one of the rarest and the most difficult to achieve. He had witnessed the evolution of Pretzelverse Game’s lax security practices to something even more robust. Freeman was certain these numbers were correct, but he had to be sure. He pulled data from all official and non-official website, as well as a site called CMUptime, a site that reported all public statistics. The only drawback was the information on that site tended to be outdated since the last expansion.
994—the count is correct. I will correlate back tomorrow, but I think I have an accurate count.