Specter Protocol

by Eddie R. Hicks

  Obsidian: You have Patterson’s data. Send me a copy, please.

  DigiSamurai: You really are watching me.

  Obsidian: The data.

  Ray hesitated, his eyes staring at the flashing cursor.

  Obsidian: Do you want to see Arianna again or not?

  DigiSamurai: Fine.

  He selected Patterson’s copied files, compressed them into a zip, and transferred them to his mysterious dark web stalker. A thirty-minute pause came once the transfer was complete, Obsidian no doubt taking time to read the data.

  Obsidian: I was right about Anchorage. I need you there.

  DigiSamurai: That so? Got any idea on getting there?

  Obsidian: I’m sending you a package now.

  And that they did, a notification asked Ray if he wanted to receive the file transfer from Obsidian. His gut told him it was malware. His desire to reunite with Arianna told him to accept it.

  He clicked accept, and the download started.

  DigiSamurai: What is this?

  Obsidian: Give it to Estrella, she’ll know what to do with it. In the meantime, prepare for your trip and get your IW friends to accompany you.

  DigiSamurai: Seriously, how do you know so much, yet you need me to fetch information for you?

  And Obsidian was gone again, all messages Ray sent vanished in the void of cyberspace. They left him with nothing to do, but stare at his dark web IRC chat window, watching as members of ETG logged in or out for the night, sharing the secrets they uncovered around the world.

  Ray grimaced. It was the chat channel. Someone in that group knew who he was.

  He hoped he was wrong about that.

  Twenty-Four

  Miyuki

  It took her a while, but Miyuki finally vomited. She didn’t make it to the toilet fast enough. The reality had kicked in, hours after the violence seen at the Port of Tokyo slipped by. Miyuki took the lives of people that weren’t her. She found it strange how she never felt like vomiting when she sat in the tub watching her life bleed away a month ago.

  She arrived in one of the quarters reserved for the crew of the Kobayashi, limping, trying her best to ignore the fact her catsuit was soiled with the gross stuff that came from her belly. The windows ahead showed gray and dark clouds move past. The Kobayashi had left the Port of Tokyo. Where it was going, she couldn’t tell, but she doubted it was a state in the Federation. She sighed. These quarters were her world now, and the flat she had in Tokyo was moving away, forever depending on what Yanmei did with the freighter. More like what destiny did.

  Miyuki was on her way to the Alliance, the nation her big brother was killed in. It was like becoming the ghostly figure she was, was destined. And like a ghost, she was about to find and haunt the people responsible for Nobuo’s fall. If there was a mystical force out there making things happen, they were at work, and guiding her. Guiding her hands to slit her wrists in the bath, and then guiding her hand to accept Yanmei’s offer, to grow and become a rank A telepathic ghost.

  It was tempting to rest on the single bed below the windows, but her suit was still dripping from the vomit. Miyuki zipped out of it, pulling the shiny black outfit off her body, like a snake shedding its skin. She stood in the washroom, barefoot, as ruby glowing eyes viewed the tiny eighteen-year-old woman looking back in the mirror’s reflection. A woman wired with cyberware, from her skinny neck to her small breasts, stopping just below trimmed pubic hair, only to continue across her thigh and legs. The smell of the vomit still lingered.

  Did her big brother Nobuo vomit after his first kill? Did he ever kill anyone? It wasn’t like Nobuo to use extreme violence, even when threatened.

  Shower water sprayed on her face, it felt great. Miyuki’s lips were clean from her spew. She took her time wiping the rest of her body down, her chest especially as that’s where most of the vomit landed, not that any of it got onto her skin. Her suit was the victim there. Still, she felt dirty and kept washing away something she couldn’t see. Guilt perhaps? Those unregistered IWs didn’t deserve to die, regardless of what Yanmei said.

  You wanted this. Now you must play your part.

  Sometimes Miyuki wondered what life would have been like if she had just sold her body for sex. The money would have been good, and maybe Nobuo wouldn’t have gotten desperate, and allied himself with the IWs he did, attacking the Alliance and nearly throwing it and the Federation into war. She imagined that alternative reality, having a stranger hold her breasts and penetrate her deep, making her orgasm. It felt real, because she began to cup her breasts, then run a fingertip over her nipples dripping with fresh shower water. She shook her thoughts clear while soaking black hair spattered water everywhere.

  After the shower and patting herself dry, she left, seeking something else to wear that wasn’t the catsuit. That’d need to be tossed to the laundry robots once they came online in the morning. There was nothing in her quarters that’d fit her skinny 5’3” body as she had taken the quarters of a tall and brawny man. She tiptoed through the corridors; her timid hand touched to her lips as she peered out. The rest of the Specter team boarded before the Kobayashi left the port. They were part of the crew now, and they might see her walking with nothing on. Miyuki’s hands brightened with white light, and she began to ghostwalk. Nobody would notice her and the short towel covering her sexuality.

  The first three quarters she checked had crew uniforms too big for her, and two members of the team occupied the fourth one, not that its occupants noticed her sneak inside. Those occupants were Serge and Yanmei. Serge sat cross-legged on the bed, and Yanmei idled near the window, the ruby hue from her eyes made visible from the glass. Yanmei wore a Kobayashi crew uniform, meaning there’d be something that’d fit Miyuki too. She went searching the drawers, her HUD reporting her MEP gauge was at 78 percent. Plenty of time to return before the ghostwalk ended.

  “How long’s this trip gonna be, eh?” Serge moaned.

  “We have to make sure nobody from the Federation or Alliance knows we’ve…” Yanmei smiled when Miyuki looked at her reflection on the glass, “… borrowed this vessel.”

  “Oi, let me know when to plow ahead across the big ol’ ocean,” Serge said. “The middle of the Pacific’s got some shitty internet, you know?”

  Miyuki found a crew jumper in the drawer. It was small enough for her. She went to leave, stopping when she heard Yanmei near Serge on the bed.

  “Speaking of plowing,” Yanmei purred to him. “I need to get plowed, right now.”

  She was still ghostwalking. They’d be no harm in facing the two. Miyuki’s heart raced, Yanmei inched her face forward. Her lips met Serge’s. She was kissing him, keeping her mouth open, and he did the same. Their wet tongues pushed and slid and crossed each other.

  Yanmei pulled away from Serge’s grinning face turning red. “Crikey! This why you won’t leave my quarters?”

  “I gave you six hints…”

  “I’m a fuckin’ hacker, not a telepath,” Serge snorted. “You gotta tell me what you need, girl.”

  He uncrossed his legs, it made it quick and easy for Yanmei’s cyberware augmented hands to pull off his belt. Serge slid his pants off first, then his boxers, and if the back of Yanmei’s head wasn’t in the way, bobbing up and down, then Miyuki would have seen his member now that it saluted her.

  Yanmei stood, shed her uniform, and pushed Serge to his back with one finger. She watched as Yanmei climbed over top him, held his penis steady, and guided it inside her. It was six inches long, according to Miyuki’s optical scan. Erotic moans of pleasure followed. Miyuki couldn’t bring herself to leave.

  Like Yanmei’s uniform, the one Miyuki took was on the floor resting over her feet. She had another 50 percent left on her MEP gauge, so she grinned deviously as her hands became magnetized to the fold between her legs, venturing through her pubic hair, until she found her warm clit. She rubbed it while watching Yanmei and Serge fuck. The life as a sex worker she should have become to keep her brother alive
was still fresh on her mind. Her chest moved rapidly, her heart was pounding, and her vagina moistened.

  Yanmei and Serge’s position changed, Yanmei was on all fours now with Serge from behind, his massive and muscular Australian body thrusting deep into her, his pecs glistening with sweat. She kept watching, Yanmei more so than Serge. She was so beautiful like this. Miyuki’s orgasm was nearing. The position had Yanmei facing Miyuki, two sets of ruby glowing eyes making contact, one set of eyes that couldn’t see the other. She held the gaze with Yanmei.

  Then it happened.

  Miyuki’s towel came loose, fell, and draped the uniform on the floor. She didn’t care, the wailing orgasm that shook her frame and flung the towel off felt great. Her fingers, moving clockwise, were wet with bodily fluids. After two minutes those same fluids slid down her left leg.

  Yanmei winked at her.

  Miyuki’s escape turned to embarrassment. Did Yanmei see her? She checked the status of her MEP gauge, 34 percent. She should be ghostwalking still, and convincing the thoughts of those she selected, being everyone, that she wasn’t there. Serge didn’t seem to notice her, so that ruled out a UI error. She looked again at Yanmei, and she cocked her index finger at Miyuki in a come-hither and join us motion.

  Miyuki grabbed the towel and uniform and ran back to her quarters, her face flushed with embarrassment. The door shut behind and she retreated to the bed, the glow from her hands fading when she finished the ghostwalk. An hour went by, and only the humming noise of the freighter’s engines and ventilation was heard.

  She lay still, now dressed in the uniform and looked down at her wrists, bound in cyberware, covering the marks that ended her life. Miyuki couldn’t lower them. Something was clenching them. She tried five times to move her arms and nothing. Yanmei materialized ahead of Miyuki, her knees sinking into the mattress, and cybernetic grip holding Miyuki wrists. Yanmei had been ghostwalking.

  “You still have much to learn,” Yanmei said, her ruby eyes staring at her.

  Miyuki looked to the door, the one she shut. It was opened and had been for some time. Yanmei’s manipulation made her see it closed.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking back up at her.

  “What were you doing watching Serge and me?”

  “I… well…”

  Yanmei’s hands glowed white as she brushed her right one through Miyuki’s hair, stroking the sides of her head gently. “Your thoughts are easy to read too. Easier than a human. It’s a weakness. Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

  “No!” Miyuki shook her head. “I am ready for this.”

  “Then why was I able to see through your ghostwalk? Why didn’t you notice me enter just now? I was barely using the full potential of my abilities. What is bothering you?”

  Miyuki looked down. “My big brother,” she murmured. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Get over it,” Yanmei snapped. Miyuki gasped. “He failed in his mission and might have thrown us into war with the Alliance. If you don’t, it will hold you back, weaken you, and get you killed.” Yanmei released her grip of Miyuki’s wrists and backed off. “There’s something else. You need to get plowed too.”

  She winced, facing away. “I’m fine.”

  “Lies,” Yanmei said. “I know you were looking at me, and I know there’s a part of you that demands release. That’s why I extended my offer to accompany us. You know Serge wouldn’t have minded, right? Distractions, thirsting for desires, even hunger can disrupt your abilities. Clear your mind of that before entering a dangerous situation. I asked Serge to drill me because I knew if I left my desires unchecked, it could kill me. You need to do the same. Only a Specter with a complete and clear focus, in a body that has no longing for desires, will survive. And you’re not a monk. You lack the mental discipline to banish those thoughts. The next time I ask you to join us, do it. These bodies we live in and their constant needs can be a pain.”

  And she was alone when Yanmei left her quarters. Alone to process Yanmei’s words until she fell asleep.

  He failed in his mission and might have thrown us into war with the Alliance.

  Was her big brother’s gift for her another world war? And how did Yanmei know Nobuo failed a mission if the Specter’s were hired to learn what he did?

  Sunlight brightened the Kobayashi’s decks as its powerful thrusters propelled it across the Pacific Ocean’s surface. The Specter team looked like the crew now, wearing their uniforms, practicing fake Alliance accents spoken in English or Spanish. Precautions in case they get boarded by Alliance naval vessels. They were to act as employees of the Yoshida Corporation if it came to that.

  Miyuki was in the galley along with everyone else, eating Alliance breakfast food. She hated it, it was nothing like traditional Japanese breakfast she spent the years before and after her death eating. The Specter team shared a large table, like they were family, eating. Yanmei sat with her human pet Serge, and Miyuki, well she sat alone nursing the bowl of oatmeal before her. The glares the Specters gave her weren’t inviting when she went to sit with them. Arakawa said she was too short and skinny, and Porter ragged on about her reliance on MEP amplifiers to boost her IW powers to the rank of A. Saito and Wu agreed.

  The oatmeal she had didn’t age well from the time it sat in her bowl. She stood and approached the organic recycler while holding the bowl, walking past Yanmei and Serge’s table. Serge made a loud gasp, staring down at his laptop’s screen. Yanmei’s ruby eyes followed what had his attention.

  “Fuck me dead!” He pointed at the screen as Yanmei watched over his shoulder. Miyuki dumped the oatmeal into the organic recycler, and then did the same, only from a distance. She was angled off just enough that her synthetic eyes read Serge’s screen and zoomed in on its contents. There was an IRC chat window open. “You know who this guy is right?”

  Serge tapped the name of one of the IRC users. The screen name read ‘DigiSamurai.’

  Yanmei shook her head. “No, who is it?”

  “That’s Ray Partington,” Serge said. “The bloke that’s got Zhang’s data, taken from Yoshida.”

  “Allegedly,” Yanmei chimed in wincing.

  “We know he was dating Arianna Kounias, who was the saboteur and an employee of Yoshida. We know Partington reported her missing, and then afterward posted proof on his blog he’d seen a snippet of the data, data she gave him.”

  “All we know for sure is that Nobuo and his IW followers went to the Alliance to retrieve something and ran into complications involving Partington and his girlfriend,” Yanmei said. “After he was killed, the Alliance claimed Partington was a terrorist and an ally of the Federation. With that woman…”

  “Heh, Taylor,” Serge said, his face lost in thought at the mention of Taylor, whoever that was. “She ain’t just any woman, and you know that.”

  Their chat held Miyuki’s interest. She continued watching, using the magnification zoom of her eyes to examine the chat screen.

  “Do these hackers know who he is?” Yanmei asked.

  Serge nodded. “Aye, but you know, hackers code of honor and all. They won’t give up they’ve been chatting with him. Hell, half the fucking hackers in this channel are wanted worldwide.”

  “Where is Partington?”

  “No fuckin’ clue,” Serge said. “This is the dark web, everyone’s anonymous. Even skilled folks like me, that can break dark web encryptions, can’t trace Partington. He’s good at masking his location. According to this, he’s in Winnipeg. He was in Moscow the other day and London before that. Personally, I still think he’s in LA, but I have no way to prove it.”

  “This is good…” Yanmei beamed. “If Partington still has Arianna’s data… then… Get him to come out, Serge.”

  “Ray’s smarter than that.”

  “Just try.”

  Serge typed.

  OBS: Anchorage you say?

  They waited for Ray’s reply.

  DigiSamurai: Yeah man.

  Serge ty
ped again.

  OBS: I think something of interest is going on there at some base for Yoshida’s private military. You’ll probably need to be local to hack it though.

  And they stood by for what came next.

  DigiSamurai: I’ll pass.

  Serge laughed. “Guess he ain’t fond of the weather up there. Let’s find out.”

  And he typed again.

  OBS: Don’t like the cold, eh?

  DigiSamurai: BRB

  He shrugged. “Well, I tried.”

  “He might be lying,” Yanmei said. “I doubt he’d be foolish enough to admit he’ll be going to Anchorage.”

  “I’d like to know what in the hell is important there that has him asking.”

  Yanmei leaned closer, her hand stroking Serge’s back. “Can you bring up the Kobayashi’s delivery logs?”

  “Sure can. Why?”

  A half-grin. “Call it a hunch.”

  The screen on Serge’s laptop changed when he accessed the Kobayashi’s logs. He scrolled through the files, reports, and a long list of dates and inventory items.

  Serge gasped. “Well, look at that. The Kobayashi delivered goods to Anchorage. Industrial 3D printers, and lots of manufacturing equipment, heavy-duty shit.”

  Yanmei took a minute to read the contents of the screen. “Zhang needed those exact items when they began work on a project in an Indonesian facility. Yoshida is building something in secret, and it caught the attention of that wanted hacker. Have the bridge set a course to Anchorage when ready.”

  “I’ll pass it along.”

  “The Kobayashi was more than a cargo freighter operating for Yoshida,” Yanmei backed away from Serge, ruby eyes examining the design of the galley and corridors seen from the doorway. “It was delivering parts for Yoshida’s new weapon.”

  “And what weapon was that?”

  “The one Zhang was producing before a saboteur hit the facility, destroyed it, and stole the designs.”

  “Nobuo arrived in the Alliance afterward, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did. His mission must have been to track that saboteur,” Yanmei said. “Yoshida might have gained knowledge about what Zhang was developing. Partington most likely had given it to them.”