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Fang & Metal: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 4)

Page 13

by JC Andrijeski


  Nick scowled.

  Yi.

  Dimitry Yi.

  He wished this was the first time he’d heard that damned name.

  A racist, pseudo-intellectual jackass who’d been rising in the underground for years now, quietly at first, and mostly under the radar, Yi and his “movement” were now going increasingly mainstream. Nick’s first big case in New York involved a bunch of teenagers who were obsessed with Dimitry Yi and his so-called “ideology,” which essentially consisted of purifying the world of anyone considered of “lesser” blood.

  That included vampires.

  It also included half-human, half-seer hybrids, like Nick’s girlfriend.

  It definitely would have included full-blooded seers… if Yi knew any full-blooded seers existed on this planet still, which was doubtful.

  Nick knew how such ideologies worked.

  They’d eventually turn on members of their own kind, as well, labeling them “race traitors” or “impure humans,” or gaos knew what else.

  He turned to St. Maarten with a tired exhale. “What do they know? Your intelligence people. What have they determined so far?”

  She threw up her hands, her narrow mouth twisted in a scowl.

  “That whoever hacked the nanotech ascribes to the Yi philosophy,” she said. “That they managed to take over all programming and mental functioning of the A.I. prototype, and to lock us out… even the back doors. That they used the A.I. to hijack the security systems within the Praetorian vault. That more than one group may have provided support during the hack, but the A.I. managed to scramble their locations, so we can’t ID them accurately––”

  “Okay,” Nick said, holding up a hand. “Okay. What don’t you know?”

  Understanding flickered in her green eyes.

  “What don’t I know?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling humorlessly. “I don’t know how personally involved Yi himself is… or if he is at all. I don’t know if this represents a single, extremely talented individual with a deep understanding of organic tech… or if this is someone from my actual programming team, who designed the A.I. I don’t know if they have people inside Praetorian, in addition to those inside Archangel… but I strongly suspect they do. I also strongly suspect they have people within law enforcement, helping them.”

  Nick’s frown deepened.

  He studied her eyes, but he sensed she was telling him the truth now.

  Well, most of it, anyway.

  “How the fuck did they do all this?” he said finally. “You’re Archangel, for fuck’s sake! You have your own damned private army. You practically run your own government. How could they just infiltrate you, like you were anyone? Honestly, I would’ve believed they could hack the NYPD or the I.S.F., first…”

  She was already scowling.

  Sliding her legs out from under her, she stood from the couch.

  That faint frown hovered over her lips as she clasped her hands in front of her. After staring out over the view of the city, she began to walk, pacing before him in the long, forest-green robe that hugged her waist like an old-style gown.

  “An idea is an insidious thing, Detective,” she muttered.

  More than usual, she looked like a queen pacing before her throne, absent only the crown and the elaborate, high-backed chair.

  “…Ideas can tear down an edifice faster than an army,” she continued, her eyes and voice still far away. “Once they’ve entered into the bloodstream of an organism, they are more deadly than any disease.”

  Nick wondered if she was even talking to him.

  She just as easily could be thinking aloud, talking to herself.

  “This idea is spreading,” she added, turning to walk back in his direction, now wringing her hands. “It is spreading and spreading… they are recruiting in places we missed.” She gave him a hard look. “Schools, Detective, as you know. They are targeting the young, especially young men. College campuses. They are recruiting among the police… the I.S.F.… the military… and yes, among my people, too.”

  Her mouth quirked in a hard smile.

  “Defense contractors and tech workers are rather susceptible to this, frankly. They are paranoid as a general rule. They are highly intelligent but don’t always do well with the big picture, being siloed in areas of expertise that cut them off from the wider world. They know enough to be afraid… and movements like Yi’s thrive on fear and misinformation.”

  Nick frowned, watching as she came to a stop in front of the couch.

  “How?” he growled. “How did he steal the machine? How did they get into the vault?”

  There was a silence.

  Then Lara St. Maarten’s brow cleared.

  Her voice became crisp, businesslike.

  “What they stole, Detective Tanaka, is a nanotech prototype organism,” she said calmly. “And how they stole it is simple… if nearly impossible to explain in detail to a layperson. They found some way to activate the machine from outside the vault. They activated it, then got it to replicate. Then they weaponized it.”

  Nick felt his chest clench.

  Pausing, she went on in the same, nearly pleasant voice.

  “This particular prototype has a strong learning intelligence aspect to its design. It was created with the ability to take over the artificial intelligence of other, lesser machines. Including and especially organics. From what my tech team tells me, that is what happened here. It absorbed the mind of the vault’s security system A.I.”

  At Nick’s continued silence, her frown returned.

  “They hacked it, Detective,” she said. “They hacked the machine, befriended it somehow, gained its trust, and instructed it to break out of its own containment field––”

  “Befriended it?” Nick cut in, his jaw hard.

  “Yes,” she said, exhaling.

  Turning to look at him, she fingered the auburn hair out of her eyes.

  “We intercepted enough of the code to know it switched its allegiance to whoever broke in,” she explained. “Think of it as an animal… a pack animal, trained to view its primary designers and programmers as the alpha of that pack. My people were usurped by whoever hacked into the A.I.’s code.”

  Pausing, she made a vague gesture with one hand.

  “…We didn’t get much more than that, unfortunately, before the machine changed its encryption and cut us out.”

  Nick stared at her, his jaw now too hard for him to speak.

  St. Maarten exhaled, sitting back down heavily on the sofa.

  “We picked up the new directive to kill vampires,” she added, rubbing her temples. “My people are still going through the lines of code we picked up before we were cut off, but they were pretty confident about that piece. Whoever took the machine instructed it to kill any vampires it found.”

  Looking at him, she added,

  “Possibly any non-humans… so hybrids, too. My techs are less sure about that last part. They were much more confident about the vampire directive. We picked up the coding change for that right before our line of communication went dark.”

  Frowning, staring out over the city, she muttered,

  “They found some way to talk to it. Past the security features of the vault. Past the multiple layers of encryption we had on the machine. If it wasn’t one of mine, I have no idea how they did it. We have the best scientists in the world working on this project… including in cryptography.”

  Nick continued to stare at her.

  “How was it programmed before?” he growled. “Before it was programmed to kill vampires, who… or what… was it programmed to kill?”

  She turned, staring at him, blinking her large green eyes.

  Then she frowned for real.

  “Nanotech has thousands of uses, Detective,” she said coldly. She fingered a curl of auburn hair out of her face, smoothing it with one hand. “…Tens of thousands. Millions. It wasn’t created to be a weapon. It was created to be a tool. The experimental aspects had to do with exp
onential learning and problem-solving… and increased replication speed. Depending on how the nanites were programmed, they could do anything from building and maintaining architectural wonders, to self-repairing and upgrading, to prototyping other machines, to burrowing a transit tunnel from North America to Africa…”

  She gave him a harder look.

  “…Or, in theory at least, to cleaning up the dead zone outside the domes.”

  It was Nick’s turn to stare.

  “Cleaning up––”

  “That is correct,” she cut in, her eyes flashing with anger. “Believe it or not, I do not only create weapons, Nick. In fact, most of the engineering projects I oversee are not weapons… or at least were not explicitly designed for that purpose.”

  Nick didn’t bother to point out the problems with that last part.

  “…I certainly didn’t expect this prototype to be used for genocide,” she muttered angrily, laying her arm on the back of the couch as she stared out the bay window. “But clearly Yi’s focus and imagination are somewhat more single-minded than mine.”

  She bit her lip, still frowning.

  Then she turned, facing Nick.

  “They will go after the institutional vampires first.” She studied his eyes. “Are you attending the banquet tonight? The graduation ceremony for the new Midnights? You must know that isn’t simply an excuse for Gavin to parade his new mistress…” she added sourly, referring to her ex-husband, Gavin Kingsworth, who happened to be Governor of New York.

  Her lip curled before she went on.

  “He’s kicking off his new ‘vampire friendship’ program,” she said. “It plays well with the rights’ groups… so he’s made it part of his platform to be re-elected in November.”

  Nick’s jaw hardened.

  Shit. He’d forgotten all about that fucking thing.

  Again.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

  “I can see from your face that you are aware of it, at least,” she said, exhaling. “Are you attending? I confess, it would be convenient if you were… if not particularly safe for you.”

  “You just said the banquet is a likely target,” Nick growled. “Doesn’t that mean it should be cancelled?”

  “Possibly,” she said. “Or possibly, that will only push them to release it somewhere else… somewhere we are far less able to prepare for it. If we go forward with the banquet, there’s some chance we can use it to catch them. Preferably before they’re able to activate the living machine a second time.”

  Nick stared at her in disbelief.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

  “You realize how little time we have, don’t you, Nick?” she said, sharp. “This is an intelligent, replicating machine. Once he deploys it, really deploys it, it will replicate all over the protected area… killing every single vampire it encounters.”

  Nick stared at her.

  “Why the fuck would you even create something like that?” he said.

  She grimaced delicately, turning away and rubbing her temples with her fingers.

  “You clearly have no idea what’s going on in the world right now, Detective,” she said, her voice low and cold. “We’re in an arms race… on multiple fronts. The Russians recently acquired that artificial venom extraction you stumbled upon in the Straven case… a substance that could turn entire armies, entire populations, into virtual slaves. Cybernetics research is off the charts. There are organic weapons and machines under development that use the genetic trace biology of seers. Some even hearken back to old experiments conducted in the early Twentieth Century, back in the pre-war period––”

  “So you thought you’d join in?” Nick cut in angrily. “You felt the need to be a part of that particular party, Lara?”

  She gave him a weary look.

  “We could not afford to get behind. Not given what some of the other human regions have in the works. As I said, our applications are varied, and––”

  “But isn’t all of it completely illegal?” Nick growled. “Every single thing you just listed… none of that is legal, right?” He glared at her, watching her frown. “The post-war treaties? They’re all just… what? Toilet paper now?”

  “More or less,” she said unapologetically.

  Letting out a frustrated exhale, she went back to rubbing her temples.

  “There are larger forces at work right now,” she said. “Forces that appear to be spiraling to a head, at least for those of us aware of what is going on.”

  She leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes.

  “I can’t get into all of this with you right now, Nick,” she said, her voice still weary. “Frankly, I’ve told you too much already.”

  Turning her head, she met his gaze flatly.

  “You know who he is. You know what he believes.”

  Nick’s jaw hardened more.

  He did know.

  She gazed back out over the city. “Right now, it’s about getting the machine back. It’s possible they don’t fully realize what they have yet. It’s why I’d like as few people involved as possible.”

  She gave him another of those flat looks.

  “It’s why I need you, Detective. Not the NYPD. Not the I.S.F. Not the media. Certainly not the military. This thing could very easily spiral out of control. Trust me when I tell you… you don’t want that to happen.”

  Nick frowned, still half in disbelief.

  The concept of mutually assured destruction was hardly new to him.

  Hell, he was more or less raised on it, since it was the prevailing philosophy when he as a kid, in the relatively tame arms races they had back in those years. That was before anyone knew about vampires or seers and it was just one group of paranoid, power-mad humans versus other groups of paranoid, power-mad humans.

  “You realize you’re designing things that could actually annihilate the human race?” he said. “Not just vampires. Not just hybrids. Humans, Lara… all humans. All the races. Even if it doesn’t work this time, you’ve given them a damned blueprint––”

  “We were forced to escalate,” she cut in, her voice openly angry for the first time. She turned her head, giving him a hard look. “And, by the way, your race did that to us… at least in part. The toys that were sufficient to scare humans are no longer enough. We’ve had to go bigger since the wars. Bigger still with the rise of White Death.”

  She leaned over her legs, clasping her hands.

  That harder look grew more prominent in her green eyes.

  “I’ve only told you about the weapons we puny humans are creating, Detective,” she said, glaring at him. “If this is a matter of grave concern to you, you should perhaps discuss destructive technologies with your old pals in the White Death. Their king, I believe, is a personal friend of yours. Is he not?”

  Again, that cold stare.

  Nick had to fight not to roll his eyes.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” he said, deadpan. “I get a Christmas card every year. And not one of those form letter things, either… handwritten.”

  She blinked.

  Then her narrow mouth quirked in a faint smile.

  “Just be careful where you throw stones, Detective,” she said. “I’ve seen the windows in your house… and there are a lot of them.”

  Nick stared at her.

  Then, he rose smoothly to his feet, looking down at her.

  “My friend, James Morley, wanted me to ask you who killed our Midnight,” he said, his voice cold. “I’ve done that. So if you don’t have any additional information for me, I think I’ll leave. I need to call the police about a murder that occurred in Phoenix Tower––”

  “Nick,” she said, voice hard. “Don’t. Please.”

  “You really want me to ignore another fucking murder?” he growled. “Really? So first we ignore Ana Nuñez’s murder… and the murder of that poor security guard… and that poor fucker who got half-eaten by your machine… all in th
e name of some foggy notion of ‘national security.’ Now you want me to pretend Veronica wasn’t killed, either?”

  Staring down at her, he clenched his jaw.

  “She was loyal to you, for fuck’s sake! Don’t you care at all? Are you really that much of a damned sociopath, that you could just pretend––”

  “She was my lover for over twelve years,” St. Maarten snapped, glaring up at him.

  Nick froze, falling silent.

  She exhaled angrily, averting her gaze. “Don’t you dare fucking lecture me about how to care about her death, Nick. Don’t you fucking dare.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, either.

  He watched her look away, watched her finger her still-mussed hair out of her face.

  He noticed that time, her hand was shaking.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, gruff. “I didn’t know.”

  “Why the fuck would you?” she snapped. “It’s none of your goddamned business, is it?”

  Nick was shocked to see her eyes brighten, right before she wiped their edges with her fingers and the side of her hand.

  He stood there, uncomfortable. He didn’t know if he should sit next to her, try to comfort her… or just leave.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. But I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to involve the police. If Brick’s people did it, they should be held accountable.”

  There was a silence.

  She let out an angry, humorless laugh, staring down at the floor.

  “You can’t possibly be that naïve,” she said.

  Nick frowned, but didn’t answer.

  “Anyway,” she added, waving a hand with a frown. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve just been informed that Kit told the police about Veronica already. So we’ll just have to manage that end of things as best we can… and hope it doesn’t escalate things.”

  He opened his mouth, about to answer, when he heard a melodious ping from the elevator. Turning his head, he listened to the elevator doors open, then as people begin to exit, pouring into the penthouse foyer.

  All of them moved like humans.

  St. Maarten was right.

  Clearly, Kit called more than just medical services.

  “Ms. St. Maarten?” a voice shouted out. “Police, Ms. St. Maarten! Your security people are here with us. We’re here to help.”

 

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