by Eliza Green
‘Why?’ Jenny put her knife and fork down.
‘Look, the job is to enter our names on the manifest and take us to the passenger ship, nothing more. I don’t want to risk the government discovering your involvement.’
Jenny looked away, as though there was another reason for her request.
‘Why would you want to come anyway?’ he said.
She looked back. ‘Forget I mentioned it. If I do this for you, there’s something I must insist upon.’
‘What’s that?’
Jenny leaned forward. ‘No lies. You tell me the truth. Always. It’s important to me.’
’I don’t follow.’
‘Do you know what happened after Calypso Couriers fired me?’ she said. ‘The World Government took away my nice two-bedroom apartment and dumped me into this crappy one-bed. Then they spread lies about me that killed off any chance of getting freelance work. I called into a courier company a few months back looking for contract work. The receptionist left the desk to cross-check my information and there it was on her DPad: my name at the top of a list of “Do not hires”. She returned and told me there was no work going for pilots without their own spacecraft. When I told her I had my own craft, she said it didn’t change anything.’ Jenny’s expression hardened. ‘I’ve had enough lies to last me a lifetime.’
Bill nodded—this was something he could promise. ‘No lies.’
‘And if we get caught, what will be the consequences?’ said Jenny.
‘You and I both know the World Government well enough to answer that.’
Jenny huffed out a breath. ‘Okay, I’ll do it, but I need some time to prepare.’
‘You have forty-eight hours,’ said Bill, offering his hand. ‘Welcome to the team, Captain Waterson.’
19
Assured of Jenny’s help, Bill pushed on with the preparations for their trip to Exilon 5. He needed to sort out the replica identity chips that Stephen had given him. Stephen had explained that for the blank chips to work, they must be uploaded with new identities.
His contact list included the only person who could help him with that. Harvey Buchanan was a world government employee who specialised in nano technology. He also traded illegal tech on the black market under the noses of his bosses. After speaking with Harvey, Bill arranged for him and Laura to meet him in Magadan, Russia, a halfway point between London and Sydney. Apparently, they both must be present to perform the switch from their real identities to the replica. Bill assured a worried Laura that the trip to Magadan should take no longer than a few hours, tops. Callum Preston should be able to hide her travel for that long.
While the government could track their movements by spacecraft, what they did in Russia would not be so easily monitored. Callum was on standby to wipe their names off the travel log when they arrived at Magadan in Russia, and again after they got back. Laura even scheduled a day off work at the ESC.
Bill stood outside Magadan’s docking station. He rubbed his arms in the bone-chilling air, struggling to get warm. He kept one eye on the entrance to the station, willing for Laura’s spacecraft from Sydney to hurry up. Temperatures in this part of the world had noticeably dropped. Last time he was in Russia, it had felt warmer than this.
Each breath he took inside the gel mask turned to ice crystals. A numbing sensation spread through his toes. He stamped his feet to get the blood pumping down there.
Laura emerged from the docking station and he followed with an ‘about time’. She shuddered violently, possibly experiencing the Siberian weather for the first time. Bill grinned at her reaction then turned and strode towards the automated transport that would take them to the centre of Magadan. One of Harvey’s Russian ‘associates’ would pick them up from that location. The sound of hurried steps told him Laura was following.
They got in and ten minutes later, the vehicle dropped them outside the city’s Maglev train station. Together they walked towards the nearest replication terminal.
‘Harvey said to wait by the one with the silver door,’ said Bill.
Only one place matched that description.
‘It’s fff... freezing here. I don’t fff... function well in cold weather.’ Laura hugged her body and stomped her feet.
‘I warned you to dress for the occasion.’
‘I th... th... thought it would be the same as Sydney. It feels’—her words thickened—‘like we’ve wa... walked into a fff... freezer.’
It hadn’t snowed in Russia for decades; the thick atmospheric layer altering weather patterns was to blame. Only one weather measurement was worth watching now—the temperature.
‘I thought you said you could handle anything, that you liked a challenge,’ Bill teased.
‘I can’t remember sa... saying that. You’re trying to kill me. I rrr... realise that now.’ The words tumbled out, only half of it coherent. ‘S... so where is he?’ Her mask filled with ice crystals. ‘What ddd... does he look like?’
‘No idea, but Harvey assured me his man would be hard to forget.’ Bill turned up the collar on his overcoat, but the shivering cold found a way inside.
At first, neither of them noticed the man who approached them. ‘You looking for Harvey?’ he said in broken English with a heavy Russian inflection. Bill stared at the small, stocky man with bushy eyebrows peeking over a pair of sunglasses. A scarf covered the bottom half of his face.
Bill nodded. ‘Is it far?’
‘Come.’
The pair followed the Russian a short distance to an alleyway, where another vehicle waited for them.
He held the door open for them. ‘Get in. I explain.’
Bill hopped into the front; a nervous Laura climbed into the back. It was warmer inside, but she continued to shiver. The Russian walked round to the driver’s side and climbed in. He removed the scarf and glasses from his face. Bill did a double take. Laura gasped.
The Russian gave them both a gruesome smile. Part of his face was missing. On his right cheek and below his chin, he had no skin; just exposed flesh, bone and sinews held together by a clear gelatine substance; his right eyeball rolled around in its slimy socket, as if it had a life of its own.
Bill stared, both sickened and fascinated. His eyes flicked to a blushing Laura who was trying not to look. Injuries of that magnitude were rare in a world where nanoid technology could easily fix them.
‘I test new technology. Sometimes it work.’ The Russian shrugged as if it was normal. He issued a command to the car and the vehicle moved off. ‘Harvey wait inside door of Medical Centre. I leave you nearby. Okay?’
Bill stared straight ahead of him. ‘That’s fine.’
It felt like forever before the car arrived at the city’s disused Medical Centre. Bill couldn’t get out of the car fast enough; Laura appeared to be similarly motivated. Bill pushed the door to the Centre open.
A man of average build and height, with sandy-coloured hair and shifting eyes, was waiting for them just inside the environmental force field. Harvey Buchanan wore a white lab coat over his regular clothes. He held out his hand to Bill, which he shook. Bill then introduced Laura. Harvey shook her hand and looked her over—an action that made her blush.
Buchanan’s official business in Nanoid Valley included offloading failed prototypes to the underworld for a fair price. For this World Government employee, the easy money made it worth the risk.
‘Now that the introductions are out of the way, shall we get to work?’ said Harvey. The doctor’s smile put Bill on high alert.
They followed him down several corridors. Bill side-stepped debris littering the floors in this abandoned place.
‘There’s no power here.’ Harvey bounded up a flight of stairs and into another seemingly endless corridor.
In the huge space, Bill lost the way out. That unsettled him. Harvey finally stopped at a large metal door and waved his thumb over a flat plate to the side. The door clicked open and Harvey entered the room. Inside was a clean and tidy space, decked out with sh
iny expensive equipment—at odds with the rest of the building.
‘This is one of the many rooms we use for testing,’ said Harvey. ‘And yes, it’s funded by the black market. I assume you saw Vladimir’s face?’
‘What happened to him?’ said Laura. ‘He didn’t go into detail.’
Harvey laughed—too hard. ‘Don’t worry, he gets paid well for his work.’
‘Can’t he just—’
‘Get it fixed?’ said Harvey. Laura nodded. ‘I’m afraid not—we’ve screwed with his genetic code too many times. It’s past fixing. The best we can do is gel up his face. But he assures me it doesn’t hurt. You’ve heard of nano technology?’
‘Of course,’ said Laura.
‘Most of the black market business comes from those looking to alter appearances—physical manipulation, that sort of thing,’ Harvey explained. ‘They want to change into someone else, either for aesthetic reasons or to evade the law. We don’t ask questions here. While the legal manipulation clinics use nanoids to help repair cells damaged through injury, we use them for other purposes. Identity theft or creating brand new identities is a profitable business. Our nanoids add new cells to the body, which is why Vladimir’s face is so messed up.’
The look of shock on Laura’s face widened Harvey’s smile. ‘The rejected nanoid prototypes can increase our cell structure count,’ he went on. ‘Instead of simply replacing what people lose, our nanoids create additional cells outside of what’s genetically predetermined.’
‘What does that achieve?’ said Laura.
Harvey stepped closer to her. To her credit she didn’t move, but Bill fought the urge to step between them.
‘Instant muscle mass, for vanity reasons; additional brain cells to increase intelligence.’ Harvey waved his hand in the air. ‘Well, that last one is still theory. The problem is we haven’t perfected the technology, which is why Nanoid Valley rejected it in the first place. Vlad and other volunteers help us to work out the kinks. Vlad’s been tested so often, it isn’t safe to continue, and he’s no longer a good test subject. He doesn’t care about the side-effects; for him, the financial payoff is worth it.’
‘I don’t see how he can have a normal life like that,’ said Laura.
Harvey stared at her, as if he was measuring her up for something. A flush of pink coloured her cheeks. She dropped her gaze to the floor.
Bill checked his own anger that threatened to put this meeting at risk, and Harvey on the floor.
‘He still has full use of his face and the money gives him a good lifestyle. Isn’t that all people care about?’
A frowning Laura met Harvey’s stare. ‘What about personal relationships, or having a family? Isn’t that more important?’
Harvey tilted his head slightly. ‘I’m not sure Vlad sees it that way. He’s set up for life now. When it gets too cold here he can afford to go elsewhere, buy a place of his own. Not be stuck in one of the housing blocks the government has built. I hear they’re a nightmare.’
The geneticist slid his gaze to Bill. ‘I like this one. She’s feisty. Is she single?’
Bill laughed. ‘I’m afraid not.’
Harvey held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make a move on your girl.’
‘I’m nobody’s girl,’ said Laura.
Bill forced another laugh. ‘You heard the lady. Can we get down to business? We don’t have much time.’ He slapped Harvey on the back hoping to move the conversation on.
‘I’ll to need a little something from you first.’ Harvey held out his hand.
Bill pulled out a box from his pocket and plucked one of Stephen’s blank identity chips from it. He placed it in Harvey’s hand. The geneticist slid it straight under a microscope.
‘This is an amazing bit of engineering—I’m impressed. It looks the same as an original. Tell me how it works.’
‘The new identities first,’ said Bill.
‘Fine, but you’re not leaving here until you tell me about this.’ Harvey continued to look through the microscope. ‘What else do you want—facial manipulation to reset the nose, move the eyes father apart, remove distinguishing features? Anything in particular?’
Laura’s eyes widened.
‘Just the chips uploaded with the new identities,’ he said.
Harvey looked up at him. ‘Who created the blank chips?’
‘That’s confidential I’m afraid.’
He returned to the magnification lens. ‘Come now, nothing’s confidential on the black market. One call and I can have someone beat it out of you.’ He almost sang the last line.
Laura inched closer to a bench with several instruments on it, including a silver laser scalpel.
‘I’ll tell you how they work, but the source stays with me,’ said Bill.
Harvey straightened up, eyes narrowed at Bill. Bill said nothing, to which Harvey shrugged. ‘You’re a good player. I’ll give you that.’
His pounding heart said otherwise.
Bill released a soft breath. ‘You need to deactivate our chips. I assume you have a couple of personas to lend us?’
‘Yes and no. Yes, I have the identities ready to go, but I don’t know how to match the identity chip to your DNA, or how to deactivate your original. It’s never been done before—not successfully, that is.’
‘My source left me detailed instructions. I’ll talk you through it,’ said Bill. ‘I don’t have the equipment to do this, but clearly you have.’ He nodded at the well-stocked lab.
‘I’ll give it a go, but I can’t promise anything.’ Harvey’s kept his tone neutral, but Bill could tell he was intrigued.
The geneticist motioned for him to sit in a chair. A strong light bathed the area. Harvey followed the instructions that Bill gave him and tackled the first part of the problem—matching the DNA.
‘You have to complete this part first before you deactivate our originals,’ he said. ‘If you sever the link first it won’t work.’
Harvey plucked up the scalpel that Laura had been inching towards and made an incision in Bill’s thumb. As instructed, he held the blank replica over the existing chip. Tiny tendrils emerged from the replica and connected to the original. After a minute, the replica and original disconnected from each other.
Harvey blew out a breath. ‘What the hell? I’ve never seen that before.’ He smiled. ‘Do you know how much these would fetch on the black market? Can you get me more?’
‘I’ve a fair idea, and no. I promised you one in exchange for this work.’
Harvey shook his head and placed the DNA-prepared blanks in a machine. He began to download new identities to them. Bill imagined there must be thousands of unrecorded deaths for him to choose from.
Harvey placed the chip with the new identity over the original in Bill’s thumb. Tendrils appeared from the replica, in the same way as before, but this time they connected with the casing surrounding the original chip. Then Harvey temporarily switched off the original and scanned Bill’s thumb to confirm which identity was live. Laura swapped places with Bill and Harvey repeated the procedure.
‘I also need you to upload these two with an exact copy of our data,’ said Bill.
Ten minutes later Harvey handed the second set of chips, imprinted with their original personas, to Bill.
‘You each have two personalities now—your original one and a copy,’ said Harvey. ‘I’ve reactivated the originals for now. When you want to switch between the original and the replica, just scan your thumb on any console and touch the hyphen between your first and last name. You can toggle between identities on screen like this’—he pulled over a screen and demonstrated for them—‘Just make sure nobody’s watching. Trade secret, you understand.’
Harvey held the fifth blank chip up to the light—his payment for doing the identity replications for Bill. ‘This is going to make me rich.’ He tapped the side of the chair with the silver laser scalpel. ‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you to give up your contact?’
Th
is conversation was over. ‘You’ve got your payment, as we agreed. I can’t tell you where I got these.’
‘Watch your back, Bill, and keep out of my trade. If I see more of these on the market... well, you don’t want me as an enemy.’
Bill kept his cool, despite his rising fear. ‘Not my area of business.’ He backed up to the door.
Harvey tapped the chair with the scalpel again, cutting his eyes to Laura who was closer to the geneticist than the door. ‘Maybe your girlfriend will tell me your source.’
A tense looking Laura looked ready to make a move. While Harvey watched her, Bill shook his head for her to stop.
‘She knows nothing.’
Harvey flicked his eyes back to Bill. The two men sized each other up. Then Harvey jerked his hand away in surprise. Laura had stolen his scalpel and was holding it up to his neck.
A shocked Bill stepped back.
Laura’s hand shook. ‘Let us leave.’
A laugh erupted from Harvey. ‘Hey, let’s not do anything hasty now.’
‘I can’t tell you more about the origin of the chips.’ Bill needed this conversation to be over. ‘You’ll just have to work out how to make copies from the one I gave you.’
Harvey remained silent. Then he smiled—widely. ‘Okay, we’re done here. You can call off your attack dog now.’ Laura lowered the scalpel, but kept it pointed at him. Harvey rubbed his neck. ‘Time to tell me all you know about this little beauty.’
Bill relaxed his stance, but not his mood. He explained how the blank worked, but omitted one crucial detail: the blank chips must be ‘marked’ by placing the chip in a sample of the host’s blood. It enabled the chip’s tendrils to bond with the host’s DNA. Without the right ‘mark’, the replicas would fail repeatedly to connect to the host.
Bill needed for him and Laura to be long gone before Harvey discovered the omission.
Harvey nodded. ‘Vlad is waiting downstairs to take you back to the train station. You can make your own way to the docking station from there.’
‘What identities did you give us?’ said Laura still pointing the scalpel at him. She had made it past him to the door.