Resonant Son

by J. N. Chaney

  “Sir,” Lars said, “it appears that Mrs. Silversmith is entering the required pass phrases.”

  “Thanks, pal. I can see that.”

  Silversmith continued to type a long string of numbers and letters until a green Accept icon appeared on the terminal’s screen, accompanied by a musical chime.

  “Pass phrase accepted,” said an automated voice.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Silversmith.”

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “Why, whatever for?”

  “I’m not giving you the rest.”

  “The rest?”

  “The biometric scanners.” Silversmith shook her head and then straightened her arms. “I’m… I’m not doing this. I’m not complying with you anymore.”

  It was faint, but I could see tears on her cheeks. I didn’t blame her for crying. She’d surely never been threatened like this before—not many people ever were.

  “But, Mrs. Silversmith, what about the hostages?” Oubrick came around her and placed his pistol’s barrel against her forehead. “How are you going to live with yourself if we have to do this again? You don’t want me to order another hostage killed, now do you?”

  “Just one,” she said.

  Silversmith grabbed Oubrick’s pistol grip with both her hands and shoved her thumb inside the trigger guard. Then she pushed against the man’s index finger with the two-point-two-six kilos of pressure needed to fire the weapon.

  I stared at the holo-feed as Silversmith’s head deformed. Her body jerked backward, then fell to the floor. For his part, Oubrick seemed unfazed. He holstered his sidearm, wiped some blood from his cheek, and then produced a knife from his pocket. The blade sprang out of the handle. I watched in disgust as the man kneeled and began carving the woman’s eye out of her head. He pulled the eyeball up and severed the optic nerve. Then he grabbed the woman’s wrist and began dragging her toward the terminal.

  Oubrick wrenched her arm and placed her palm on the biometric scanner pad. A bar of blue light moved from top to bottom, registering a green Acceptance icon. Then he took the eyeball and held it up to the scanner at head level. Again, a blue sensor swept over the severed organ, and another Accept result chimed.

  “Access granted,” said the automated voice. “Welcome, Mrs. Silversmith.” The vault door slid apart.

  Oubrick tossed the eyeball and clapped his hands together. “Hello, beautiful,” he said as he stepped across the threshold.

  “Sir,” Lars said, “my sensors are picking up several more vehicles approaching the complex.”

  “More cops?” I asked.

  “Negative. They look to be Union forces.”

  “The Union? What in the gods’s names are they doing here?”

  “I have narrowed explanations to a few possible scenarios. Would you like to hear them?”

  “Knock yourself out, Lars,” I replied.

  There was a momentary hesitation before Lars asked, “My apologies, sir, but are you requesting that I shut myself down?”

  “Hells, no. I mean, tell me your scenarios.” Crazy-ass AI.

  “Very well. It is possible that the Sellion City Police Department has requested reinforcements due to the violent nature of this hostage situation.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I replied, looking at Silversmith’s body. “I’ve never known the SCPD to back down from a fight. They’d sooner cut off their own balls than ask for backup from the Union.”

  “That seems a little extreme, sir, but I believe I understand your point.”

  “What else you got?”

  “Given your assertion about my first premise, it is possible that the Union has a vested interest in the complex’s safety.”

  “A vested interest?” I asked. I rubbed the back of my neck. “The Union isn’t much for private enterprise, unless they’re taking it over or shutting it down.”

  “While it seems you are employing some amount of hyperbole, I do agree with your premise,” Lars replied.

  I ignored Lars, still trying to think through what the Union’s presence meant. “There’s no way the Union wants Oragga’s refinery operations shut down. And this is a hell of a time to take it over. It’s too coincidental.”

  “Then what are your potential conclusions, sir?” Lars asked.

  “Then there’s something else here besides credits… something that matters to the Union. Maybe something they don’t want falling into enemy hands.” I withdrew the flask from my shirt pocket, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig of the single malt. It felt good going down. I sucked in a quick breath when I was done and bared my teeth as I screwed down the cap. “Lars, is there anything else of value in the rest of the building?”

  “Can you please define the search parameters more precisely? The Oragga Complex contains an immense collection of valuable items, ranging from furniture to paintings to—”

  “I mean, is there something else in here that the largest military in the galaxy would find important? Something besides a vault full of credits? Because I have a hard time believing they’re here just to guarantee Mr. Oragga’s fortune’s safety.” I looked at the firearm in my hands. “Maybe his research or weapons?”

  “While not all of Mr. Oragga’s designs are in their hands, the Union already contracts with Mr. Oragga on his weapons research,” Lars replied. “Further still, without his proprietary understanding of the concepts, any research is rather useless to anyone who obtains it. He is, you might say, the key that undoes the lock when it comes to his technologies.”

  “What about that healing probe of yours? Maybe they want that.”

  “That technology has already been disclosed but is still years away from Union-wide implementation.”

  I paced the landing. The Union’s presence took this situation to another level, one I didn’t like. It was one thing to face high-tech bank robbers. It was another to take on what might be a nefarious organization that threatened galactic security. Figuring out why the criminals were here might help stop them, which meant saving lives. Likewise, not figuring it out could spell disaster for the hostages. And, depending on what they were after, it might mean saving many more lives.

  “Lars, what else is in that vault?” I asked.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me, and I need to know what it is. Now.”

  16

  “There’s more than just credits stored in the vault,” Lars said to me.

  “I knew it,” I said, hitting the top of my MX090 with the heel of my hand. “Like prodium?”

  “Why would you say that, sir?” Lars asked.

  “Because of what Oubrick said to Sanders. He gave it away. Those are prodium mines down there, aren’t they. No wonder Oragga is a bajillionaire.”

  “There is a small deposit of prodium stored in the vault, yes. However, the bulk of it is in off-site storage facilities.”

  “I knew it!”

  “Very good, sir.”

  But something still didn’t feel right. “Hold on. You said a small deposit. How small is small?”

  “Perhaps a few grams,” Lars replied.

  “A few grams?”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  That wasn’t right. “Lars, no one’s going through this much trouble for a few grams of prodium… not when you say there are offsite storage facilities elsewhere.”

  The AI didn’t reply.

  “Lars, buddy. Talk to me. What else is in that vault?”

  “The vault is also home to some of Mr. Oragga’s most treasured possessions.”

  “Treasured possessions,” I repeated flatly. “That’s it?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me? Gods, you’re not making this easy on me, pal.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Lars replied.

  “What treasured possessions, Lars?” I said, speaking each word deliberately.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Oragga’s wishes prevent me from divulgin
g that information.”

  “What the hells, Lars. I thought we had something good going here.”

  “Something good, sir?”

  “You know. You and me sharing secrets, working to kill bad guys, saving peoples’ lives…”

  “Those are all good things. I do see that,” he replied.

  “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not done. And the next piece of this puzzle is figuring out what Oubrick is really after. As in, you know what it is, and you need to tell me.”

  “As I said, sir, Mr. Oragga’s request parameters—”

  “Prevent you from divulging that information. I get it, I get it.” I continued to pace the landing in the stairwell, feeling the walls closing in on me. We were stuck and I was having trouble seeing what to do next. Up until this point, my trusty AI sidekick had proven himself to be quite an asset. But now he was acting more like a liability. No, a deterrent. And that was starting to piss me off. “Lars, are there any parameters, any scenarios that would allow you to tell me what else is in that vault?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I waited. But Lars didn’t offer anything.

  “Lars?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “So… you going to tell me or what?”

  “Again, I apologize, but that—too—would be breaking with Mr.—”

  “Damn Mr. Oragga and his parameters!”

  “I don’t see how I am able to fulfill that request, sir.”

  “I swear to gods, Lars,” I said with a nervous laugh through clenched teeth, “if I ever meet you face to face, I’m going to wring your scrawny little neck for this.”

  “Duly noted.”

  An awkward silence filled the space between us. Well, awkward for me, I supposed.

  “So that’s it, then?” I asked. “You’re not going to tell me what’s in the vault?”

  “Not without Mr. Oragga’s expressed permission,” Lars replied.

  “Fine.” I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. “For now, I guess all I need to know… all I can know—” I glared up at security camera for added emphasis— “is that Oragga keeps something else in his vault that the Union doesn’t want discovered and that Oubrick is willing to kill for.”

  For once, Lars kept silent. I took that as a sign that he agreed. It wasn’t much, but at least my conclusion was on track.

  A voice suddenly broke over Oubrick’s comm, but it wasn’t his and it wasn’t Lieutenant Sanders’s. It was someone new speaking over the ABET, someone with a deep raspy voice who oozed authority.

  “This is Major Simon Cassman of the Galactic Union hailing the individual called Hal.” The major spoke the Oubrick’s pseudo name with enough disgust to imply that he doubted it was a real name. “Please respond.”

  I raised my wrist communicator, which was still displaying the scene in the vault’s entryway. Mrs. Silversmith’s corpse lay slumped below the security panel and Oubrick was somewhere inside the vault out of sight. Suddenly, the thug returned to the entryway, bringing Rommel out of the vault with him. He waved two other assailants toward him from the vestibule.

  “Why, Major Cassman, how good of you to join us,” Oubrick said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “By order of the Galactic Union, I do hereby order you to release the hostages and exit the building with your hands raised,” the major replied.

  Oubrick looked at Rommel with raised eyebrows and pouty lips. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear Major, but that is simply not possible. At least until my demands are met.”

  “Then I have good news for you, Hal. We have arranged a full transfer of all mining rights to the TBLF, effective immediately.”

  “Have you now,” Oubrick said, a look of feigned surprised crossing his face.

  “According to your own stipulations, I hereby order you to release the hostages and surrender.”

  “Or what?” Oubrick asked.

  “Or we will have no other choice than to gain entry to the building and subdue you and your team by any means necessary.”

  Oubrick muted the channel and looked at Rommel. “How much time to get everything out?”

  “Ten minutes,” said Rommel. “Fifteen minutes max.”

  Oubrick nodded, then brought the ABET back up to his mouth. “Major Cassius?”

  “Cassman,” replied the major.

  “Very well, I accept.”

  There was a pause before the major spoke again, probably because the Union officer hadn’t foreseen such an easy concession. “That’s good news.”

  But before the major could say anything further, Oubrick added, “We will bring the hostages to sub-floor thirty. They will be awaiting some of your shuttles in the facility’s main hangar. Once they are secure, we will walk out of the main doors into your custody.”

  “Negative,” Cassman replied. “You will—”

  Oubrick cut the major off. “We will see you there in twenty minutes, Major. Good day.” There was a small click as Oubrick switched the ABET off and tossed it into the vault. He looked at Rommel. “Have the men move the prisoners to the hangar. I want everything ready to go in ten.”

  “Understood, sir.” Rommel gave Oubrick a curt nod and withdrew to the vestibule. Then Oubrick waved the two remaining men into the vault with him.

  “Bring the cases,” Oubrick said. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “I don’t like this,” I said to Lars, pacing again. “Something feels off.”

  “Since I am incapable of feeling or full self-awareness, I am unable to empathize with your sentiment, sir,” Lars replied. “However, if you are referring to the misleading tactics employed by Oubrick, then I agree—something is not as it appears.”

  “If he really wanted to release the hostages, why not let them all out the front doors?” I asked, more for my own good than for Lars’s.

  “That is the most direct solution, I agree.”

  My heart went cold and I stopped pacing. “Unless you plan on using the hostages as bait for something else.”

  “Bait, sir?” Lars asked.

  “Lars, do you have any archived footage of where the two men went earlier?”

  “I might, if you’d be more specific.”

  “When I entered the vent shaft over the vault’s vestibule, I noticed Oubrick order two men, Fabian and Nico, on an errand. I tried to see what floor they went to, but things got a little…”

  “Completely out of hand, sir?” Lars concluded.

  “Hey, I still had things under control,” I replied.

  “My sensors showed that you avoided catastrophic head injuries by less than fifteen centimeters. That is a narrow margin, one which does not seem to fit the categorical norms of ‘under control.’”

  “Well, maybe if a certain AI who was already talking to me at that point and had been able to show me the camera feeds, I wouldn’t have needed to climb into a damned ventilation shaft to begin with.”

  “Sir, I was still trying to gain control of certain parts of the system at that point. Had I—”

  “So you didn’t have things under control at that point either, did you, Mr. Fancy Pants?”

  “Sir, name-calling is a sign of—”

  “A sign of you’d better tell me whether or not you have archived security footage of those two thugs or else I’m going to tell Mr. Oragga all about how you didn’t help me save his building when you had the chance.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh,” I said with a runaway laugh. “Try me.”

  I held up my wrist communicator and waited. I almost said something more to Lars, when footage of two men in an elevator appeared over my arm.

  “This footage is from fifty-eight minutes ago,” Lars said, “when the men named Fabian and Nico left sub-floor twenty-seven.”

  “See?” I replied. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  I watched as the men shifted on their feet. Whatever was in the duffle bags on their shoulders was heavy.

  “Can we speed this up?
” I asked Lars. “I need to know what floor they got off at.”

  “Speeding up, sir.”

  The men’s weight-shifting sped up, making them look like they were doing a fidgety shuffle dance. Then, just as the elevator doors opened, the footage returned to normal speed and I saw the men step out of view.

  “Where’d they go?” I asked. “You have another camera?”

  “Searching. Please stand by.”

  Whatever floor it was, they were onboard the lift far too long to have gone to any sub-floors beyond level twenty-seven. That meant they went up. Which meant I needed to get a move on.

  I cursed to myself as I began up the stairs again, my legs already protesting. I held the wrist communicator in front of me, waiting for Lars to come through with another shot.

  “Sir,” Lars said, “it appears as though the men got off at level zero.”

  “Level zero?” I asked. “You mean the actual platform access level?”

  “Indeed.”

  “You’re sure?” That level was only a few floors above me.

  Lars hesitated, then said, “Quite sure, sir. Since I am unable to locate any movement on any camera feeds at the exact time they emerged from the elevator, I am left to assume they exited onto level zero.”

  Hoping he’d finish the sentence, I said, “And that’s because…”

  “Because I do not have access to any cameras on that level.”

  My feet pounded up the stairs and my hands helped keep me upright as I swung around each landing. “And you don’t have access because… come on, Lars.”

  “The cameras on that level are controlled by Sellion City. Even though the Oragga Complex makes use of that section of the platform, the property is that of Sellion City. While they share with our security system under normal operating procedures, once the building was locked down, I was cut off from all city-controlled systems.”

  “So, once I’m on that level, I won’t have your eyes,” I said, already not liking the thought of being without Lars.

  “That is correct,” he replied.

  “And how about communication?”