Chromed- Rogue

by Richard Parry

  “Evac? What about Mason?”

  “If he’s here, he’s proper fucked.” Harry wondered where Mason was. How he might handle almost four thousand psychos. “Go on. Get Burke and Finnagen out.”

  “Whatever.” The Federate agent stalked off toward the trees.

  “The problem seems to be the use of a new and experimental drug,” offered Carter.

  “New?” said Lace. “Is it related to the guys outside the park?”

  “They’re not outside anymore,” said Carter. “They’re moving at a run to your location.”

  Lace’s tone turned urgent. “Harry, get out of there.”

  “And yeah, available data suggests the people running to murder you are probably linked to the drug.” Carter sounded distracted, like she was doing thirty things at once. “It’s a psychotic. A crowd attacked a small Metatech squad earlier today.”

  Lace sounded aghast. “Three thousand people have taken a new drug that drives them to psychosis?”

  “No,” said Carter. “There’s a sympathetic reaction I haven’t tracked down, but the effect seems to spread like a virus. Or parasite.”

  “The weapons division are going to pitch a tent,” breathed Lace. “We going to get a sample?”

  “I think you’re going to get all the samples you need in about two minutes.” Carter turned brisk. “Harry, don’t die, okay?”

  “Thanks, Carter.” The click of the link said she was already gone.

  “What was that about?” asked Lace.

  “I’ll tell you later. Where’s my air support?” Harry scanned the skies. Clouds. No angel wings, or gunships to deliver him from the devil’s fury.

  His overlay dropped a box on a person running a ragged path through the undergrowth. Off to his left he heard the distinctive rising whine of a Federate energy weapon before the sudden crump of discharge. A Federate soldier screamed, “Contact!” The chatter of a heavy weapon filled the air. Orange and yellow heat shapes plagued the trees. Ten people. Fifty. A hundred.

  Harry took a couple of steps forward, the ratchet of machinery loud against his back as the coilgun locked in place on his shoulder. The overlay spat up a targeting solution as the lazy haze of overtime dropped around him.

  He fired, the hiss and crack of the coilgun repeating. Behind him he could hear another total conversion coming online, the overlay promising Burke had arrived to kick ass and take names. Burke’s plasma cannon roared, a tree in front of Harry exploding. Fragments of wood and bodies sprayed through the air.

  “Lace.” Harry’s words stretched thin through overtime. “Air support?”

  “Inbound. You’ve got four minutes. Try not to die, okay?”

  “On it.” Harry got to work.

  Smoke. Fire. Blasted trees, coated with blood and mud. Bodies torn apart, the attackers and Federate agents alike. Harry’s chassis hummed, the reactor on his back keeping the amps coming. Internal heat was still within tolerance, but he’d had a workout, no mistake.

  “Not bad.” Lace’s tone was grudging. “You only lost the humans.”

  “You sound a lot perkier today. I’m not sure I like it.” Harry swiveled the chassis, scanning the perimeter. An uprooted tree smoldered, bodies scattered along its length. His optics picked out a Federate uniform, a body with an arm missing, and a child still holding a stuffed toy.

  The Great Wheel fell over, crushing people. Finnagen was under there somewhere too. Down, but not out. Down meant useless for now.

  Burke clanked toward him. “Fucking hell. Fucking kids. I never shot no fucking kids before. Fucking … fuck.”

  “I don’t understand.” Harry’s link hissed. “How did Mason do this?”

  “It’s possible he didn’t,” said Lace.

  “He set up the meeting. The time. The place.”

  Lace cleared her throat. “Let’s work a hypothesis.”

  “Where’s my air support?” Harry watched Finnagen stomped through the muck, the total conversion reaching metal fingers to touch the side of a woman’s face. She looked more peaceful than she had a minute earlier. The lower half of her body was gone.

  “Coming, Harry. Still a minute out. Second wave of those freaks is massing. Stay with me.”

  “I’m with you, Lace. I’m always with you.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “I know.” She paused for two heartbeats. “So, this hypothesis.”

  “This yours, or Carter’s?”

  “You can go off some people. Really start to dislike them.”

  “Okay, it’s yours.” Harry kept his scan up. No hostiles yet. “Sorry. I was just asking.”

  “Let’s say Mason wanted to meet with you.”

  “With you so far.”

  “Let’s say there’s some kind of leak within the Federate.”

  “Hmm.” Harry stretched the sound out. “IA still crawling all over you?”

  “It’s like we’ve got fleas. Let’s say the leak organized this.”

  “There’s a problem with your working theory. You’ve still got to have someone make up some kind of psychotic drug that turns three thousand people into bloodthirsty killers. One that’ll affect kids and cause their parents to drag them into battle against a syndicate enforcement team.”

  “The theory still needs some work, I’ll admit it. But let’s say for argument’s sake that was a side effect.” Lace sounded doubtful, like she was trying to make one and one add to four.

  “Pretty big side effect.”

  “Let’s say you wanted Reed and Apsel here.” Harry could imagine the frown on Lace’s face. “It just so happens Reed brought three thousand bloodthirsty killers. We brought a syndicate enforcement team.”

  “You know what I think?” Harry watched Burke carry a child’s body, cradling it in massive metal hands, placing it next to others. The total conversion worked slow and steady, laying the children out together.

  “No.”

  “Someone else is trying to get their hands on Mason.” Got to be careful what you say over the link. “And you know what that tells me?”

  “What?”

  “Fire a memo up to the boss. Let him know there are outside interests. Heavy outside interests.”

  A gunship roared overhead, the machine scudding over the trees. The pilot had it low, right on the deck, trees thrashing as leaves scattered under the turbines.

  “Okay,” said Lace. “I’ll send a memo up.”

  “See if you can get some time off for Burke and Finnagen. I don’t think they’ve had a good day.”

  “You seem fine.”

  “I’m not fine. I just … never mind. I’ll be okay.”

  The link chattered for a moment. “You can tell me.”

  “I know,” said Harry. “And I will. Just … later.”

  “Sure.” Lace’s voice was distant. “Get on the plane already.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mason was getting tired of not knowing what the hell was going on. He got Sadie outside looking for guitar picks, with Laia helping her hunt. Mason sat in their shelter, waiting for Haraway to return. When she got back, looking like she’d walked the weary Earth, he began his quest for information. She’d never answer a direct question, so he came at it sideways. It had a reaction, but maybe not the one he hoped for.

  “You did what?” Haraway’s glare was fear and fire.

  “I told Carter to send help.” Mason met her glare with a stare, keeping his voice calm, hands relaxed. Man, she’s pissed. “Sort of.”

  Haraway’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her face turned pale, almost white. When she found words, her voice was flat. “You told Carter — a core syndicate asset — where we are?”

  “No.” Mason pulled a battered chair around and kicked back onto it. “Grab a seat.”

  “I want you to—”

  “Take,” Mason leaned forward, “a fucking chair, Jenni.” He wasn’t sure if it was something in his voice, but she grabbed an old stuffed chair, dragging it across the floor. It scr
aped against the pitted surface, flaking the old linoleum. She sat. “I didn’t tell Carter where we are.” Mason leaned back, watching Haraway’s face as confusion chased anger away for a second. “I told her to send help. We need supplies. Ammo. Something to eat other than chocolate-flavored protein. I don’t know about you, but I could use a stick of deodorant.”

  Haraway looked at her hands. “It’s just—”

  “Scratch that. I do know about you. Yeah, you need a stick of deodorant too.”

  She blinked, then laughed, a short, brittle sound. “You’re a piece of work.” Mason nodded, not sure if he was agreeing with her or not. “How is she going to send help if you didn’t tell her where we are?” Haraway’s eyes searched his face.

  “She’s not going to send help. Besides, she already knows where we are. She sent us here.”

  “But you said…” Haraway caught herself. He watched as she worked through the angles. “You’re insane.”

  “Sure,” agreed Mason. “Let’s go with that.”

  “You’re asking another syndicate to get involved?” Haraway stood, walking to the windows. “You’ve involved another syndicate to get a better breakfast cereal?”

  Mason took in the set of her shoulders. He slouched like a pro. “What’s the connection?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t. Just … don’t.”

  “Okay.” Haraway turned to the window. “She’s a good kid, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I wasn’t sure what it would do.” Haraway sighed, like the anger wasn’t enough to keep her upright. “There’s no instructions on the box. It doesn’t come with a spec sheet.”

  “She has a brother.”

  Haraway ignored him. “I’m still not sure. There’s no science showing how it’s possible.”

  “And there was another guy.” Mason looked at the ceiling, remembering the pain. “Real asshole.”

  “I wanted to broker a deal. Money, so I could keep looking.” Haraway faced him. “Do you know what this has cost me?”

  Mason saw her fists clench and the set of her jaw. “I’ve got some idea.”

  “No.” Haraway shook her head. “You don’t.”

  “It doesn’t matter how much you paid if Apsel turns us to ash. It’s not going to matter at all.”

  She hugged herself. “It was from my division. Deep research. Mothballed.”

  “Atomics?”

  She laughed, the sound sharp. “Did that hole in the world look like atomics to you?”

  Mason stood, walking to stand next to her by the windows. Laia and Sadie were on the street below. Mason watched them talk, their words lost on the wind. “It looked like a doorway. A big ol’ doorway to another planet.”

  He didn’t turn when she spoke. “How did you work that—”

  “Different sky. Through the hole there were two moons.”

  “Two—”

  “There were two moons in the sky.” Mason shrugged. “It’s been bugging me. I don’t know much about stars, hell, I can barely get two blocks without GPS. But I figure I’d have noticed if there was a second moon in the sky.”

  “I didn’t notice.” Haraway’s voice was quiet.

  “It’s why I asked. What’s the connection? I tracked the broker of stolen Federate tech to a bar. The bar turns into a war zone. Same night, I find a torched basement, an Apsel crate with your division’s name written big and black on the side. You know what they sent me there to track down?”

  “No.”

  “‘Unauthorized reactor signature.’” Mason fingers scared up some air quotes. “That’s what they called a basement full of dead men. With your box of toys in it.”

  “It wasn’t my box. It was—”

  “And then there’s the photo.” Haraway didn’t ask any of the filler questions, like what photo? She looked at him, waiting. Mason’s overlay flipped the photo of the girl with green hair up. He remembered the writing on the back. Jenni — I’m free! See you soon. “Where’d Marlene go?”

  “She was abused.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “She was on a fast track. Smart kid.” Haraway hugged herself tighter. “Smarter than me.”

  “Clearly, because she didn’t try to steal from the syndicate that pays her well.”

  Haraway ran a nervous hand through her hair. “When did you know?”

  “Just now.” Mason shrugged. “But I’ve suspected for a while. Since I saw your office. You had a photo on your desk. This beautiful office, planned to the last centimeter, with an old tech photo on the desk. No one keeps photos. It’s all digital.”

  “Maybe I’m nostalgic.”

  “Maybe you’re concerned our facial recognition software would trigger on a digital record. Maybe the only thing you can keep to remind you of her is something off the link.”

  “Reed.” Haraway’s words were so tight, Mason thought they might break. “She went to Reed. It cost me everything.”

  “No, it didn’t. You still had a little something. Enough to sell us out. You figure I had dirt on my record, it’d be easy to drag me down with you?”

  “You want the truth?”

  “I think I’ve earned the truth,” said Mason. “It seems to be in short supply. I’ve played it straight up the middle, and now I’ve got … Haraway, there’s a kid out there from God knows where. It’s not her fault.”

  “It’s why I picked you.”

  “Picked me?” Mason took a step back.

  “It’s a gate.”

  “A what?” Mason blinked. “Like a wormhole?”

  “Like you said. A doorway. I think it’s an Einstein-Rosen bridge. What’s on the other side can come here. What’s here can go to the other side. It’s stable.”

  “The other side?” Mason looked at Laia laughing with Sadie in the street below. “What other side? What do you mean, you picked me?”

  “They took Marlene into Entertainment. She was supposed to be technical. But then there was a big break. An opportunity of a lifetime, if only she’d…” Haraway’s eyes were sad and desperate for a second, her guard down. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  Mason chewed that over for a moment. “The fat black man.”

  “He wasn’t so fat. Not back then.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Know what, Mason?”

  “That you arranged a new contract for your sister. That you know what happened to her.”

  “No.” Haraway shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t think so. I’m not sure of anything anymore. He probably suspects.”

  Carter would tell you to get to the heart of it, Mason. “What do you mean, you picked me?”

  “I picked you because you ask the right questions. I picked you because you see the right things. I picked you because you care about the wrong things at the right time.”

  Mason blinked, taking another step back. “Do you know how this game is played?”

  “I don’t even know the rules,” she admitted.

  “Carter has sent the Federate on a chase. She sent Harry up to the Great Wheel.”

  “Why is Harry at the Great Wheel?”

  “Because Harry owes me.” Mason gritted his teeth. “He’s probably not there anymore. Sent. Past tense.”

  Haraway looked confused. “What?”

  “Keep up,” said Mason. “You’re the smart one. Look, the Federate is chasing its tail right now. Seeing conspiracies everywhere. The best way to keep them on the sideline is to give them an actual conspiracy.”

  “You gave them Harry?”

  “What? No.” Mason frowned. “Carter’s hosing the inside of the Federate information network with false intel. She’s told Harry.”

  “Harry knows?” Haraway frowned. “What does that buy us?”

  “Not a lot, unless we get someone else involved.”

  Haraway rubbed her face, the motion tired. “Who?”

  “Reed.”

  “Reed?” Th
ere was a hint of anger in her voice now. “We’re signing a deal with Reed?”

  “No.” Mason shook his head. “We’re sending Reed against the Federate.”

  “I don’t understand at all.” Haraway looked like Mason dropped her in the woods without a compass. “How?”

  “Metatech. They’re setting Reed against the Federate. Carter’s giving the Federate the wrong information. Metatech are giving Reed the wrong information. Everyone’s got the wrong information. Except us and Metatech.”

  “Oh, my God.” Haraway’s eyes went wide. “You’re starting a syndicate war.”

  “I’m pretty sure you started this. I’m trying to get us out in one piece.”

  “You’re doing this for me?” Haraway’s voice was small. “After what I did?”

  “After you set me up and lied to me, you mean?” Mason glanced at her. Haraway gave a sharp nod. “No. I should shoot you in the head and leave you dead. But you’ve got debts, and I can’t pay them for you. You’re part of the deal. You’re signing up with Metatech.”

  “I’m part of the—”

  “There’s a girl out there who’s getting out. She’s going to be free. If that means you and I have to work for a living, well, shit. It’ll be just like old times.” Mason leaned toward her. “But I’ll give you something. For free.”

  Haraway’s voice was a whisper. “What?”

  “My word, Jenni.” Mason turned back to the window. “After this? We’ll find your sister.”

  They waited on the street when the convoy came into view. Three APCs, black and hard in the sun. Mason’s optics picked out the crossed sabers of Metatech on the side.

  The APCs pulled up, smooth and quiet. Doors on the sides hinged open, men in dark Metatech syndicate armor spilling out. They worked the sight lines on the street, weapons ready.

  All except one, who walked toward Mason. He still had immaculate cuffs and a tailored suit worth more than most people made in a month, or maybe a year. The man smiled. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Chapter Fifteen