Vessel

by Matthew Bryant

  “How long was I out?” I ask, trying to gauge the time.

  “Just an hour or so.”

  Footsteps approach, soon followed by a familiar and equally effeminate voice. “Leave us, please.”

  “Oth course,” my attendee says humbly with a slight bow. I turn my head to watch her leave, her presence replaced by the Barren. He stands silently until the sound of footsteps has died off before approaching me and kneeling beside my bed.

  “You are a fool for returning.”

  My eyes roll before I can keep my arrogance in check. “Always was a glutton for punishment.”

  His harsh expression softens and he places a gentle palm against my cheek. “It is good to see you again, my old friend. Whatever your reasons for returning, it is important for you to realize that these are dangerous times for all of us.”

  I regard his expression with scrutiny, looking for the hidden meaning behind those words. His face has aged considerably in the past few months, or perhaps his make-up had just been hiding it well. Up close, I recognize a considerable sag in his skin. He’s losing weight too fast. Could it be stress? Or something else eating away at him. “I came back for selfish reasons. I need all of the allies in my court that I can muster. There’s no good to be had leaving bad blood between old friends.”

  “I will do what I can to accommodate your needs. What manner of riches do you need this time?”

  “Just opening up to trade again. Old junk for the traditional currencies.”

  “Anything in particular I should have my scavengers be hunting for?”

  “Electronics. Machines. Anything small enough for a repair shop.”

  “Oh my. You’re not in league with those Techies are you?”

  I let out a soft chuckle that soon becomes a cough. The disdain in his voice is more than enough to clarify his distaste. “They’re a small part of the cycle, but not the focus. Like I said, every ally in my court.”

  His face is almost a sneer, then softens with a bit of resolve. “I will use discretion in the dealings with my subjects, but I must warn you that there is no love lost between us. I…” he trails off for a moment, breaking eye contact and peering around the room for anything else of interest to focus on. Inhaling deeply and exhaling with even more emotion, he catches his words again, coming through as soft as a whisper. “I may not be long for my position.”

  Looking over his form, no longer the symbol of glory it once was. Skin has loosed from muscle and hangs noticeably weaker. “Is it medical?”

  “Of course not!” he snaps, then as quickly as before, his rage subsides. “I have no disease other than burden. The position of power is held by those who grasp it the tightest. In my arrogance, I assumed that respect and longevity would be enough to carry me to my tomb. But the eldest of us are becoming more sparse in numbers and a younger generation brings with it a hunger that my teat may no longer provide sustenance.”

  “Kids these days.”

  “Indeed.” Humor returns to his face and he gazes at me in an almost paternal way as his calloused fingers brush a gentle path across my cheek that makes me far more uneasy than the sexual appetite I’m accustomed to. “Perhaps our arrangement may give me the grip I need to hold a bit longer. Commerce has always held sway with the masses. But again, there are many among my kind that perceive you not as I do.”

  “That’s nothing I’m not used to.” I push myself up and let my feet swing over the side of the cot, feeling the cool ground beneath. My head swirls from the sudden movement and I realize I’ve woken up on too many strange beds lately. And not in the fun way. “For fuck’s sake, Barren. What the hell did you poison me with?”

  His face is almost apologetic and pleading as my vision clears. “My dear boy. My sweet Candyman. I have wronged you by our mutual past and for that I apologize. In my own attempts to hold the throne, I made a decision to show no signs of weakness. It was no poison you were given, but a virus. One that I had been granted by the good doctor long ago as a means to quickly and quietly destroy my enemies. Or to drift peacefully into the great slumber. I had no way of knowing if it was still active. Or if it had become more potent over time. Or if the cure would even work.”

  I can’t help but smirk at the apology, nor can I truly condone the man for what he had done. Showing favoritism would have been a sign of weakness and ended his rule prematurely. Still, it was pretty much a dick move on his part. “Well it seems you won’t be rid of me so easily, my Barren.” I grab his hand and bring it to my lips as way of acceptance. “Or at least not in the permanent sense. But I need to cut this meeting short. I’ve already lost too much time that I don’t have.”

  “Of course. Hopefully we shall see each other again soon under less bitter and dire of circumstances. May your travels be safe and swift. I shall have you escorted safely and quietly through the tunnels to avoid unnecessary interruptions.”

  “Thank you, my Barren. You will be seeing me again soon.”

  Thirty-Two

  Mathan’s expression is almost sour as we roll up to the familiar structures of his former home. I would have guessed for nostalgia or longing, or the resting nothing face I had grown accustomed to. Feeling the need to reassure him, I break the silence. “We’re just stopping in to drop off a few things, then we’ll head back to the Districts.” His expression lightens, but there’s still a measure of anxiety there. Vaccines and a microwave. It’s a real bargain considering my payment to the Junkers.

  We stop just shy of the bay door I had driven out of previously and wait for several uneventful minutes before the metal rattles and begins its slow ascent. Two armed guards stand on either side of the truck as I slowly drive in, directed by a fifth man standing in front of me and waving me forward. His hands flip to palms and I stop the truck, pull the parking break, kill the engine, and swiftly slide out. A bit too swiftly for the guards who tense and maintain aim.

  “Relax,” I say, waving them off as arrogantly as if they were pointing dull sticks at me. “Mathan, grab the stuff.”

  He complies without hesitation, though moving far more cautiously than myself. The traffic director from before pulls a long cord and heads to the side of the truck, placing the three copper prongs into a port where the gas tank had previously been. Handy. “I took the liberty of alerting Paige of your arrival before we opened the bay. He’ll be along shortly.”

  “Appreciated,” I mutter, glancing back over to Mathan to see if his disposition has changed at all. It hasn’t.

  Paige arrives a few moments later along with Scott who quickly relieves Mathan of his goods. “What’s the word, Mr. Fallows?”

  “Things are a go. We’ve brought up the first batch of vaccines and a microwave, as promised. I reach into my jacket pocket and retrieve the data disk that Doc had given me shortly after I quizzed him about homemade biological death traps. “This has all of the information you’ll need to get your grow operations running more efficiently. In the meantime, communications have been opened with the Aggies to trade produce for a bit of machine maintenance for a few seasons to get things off the ground.”

  His eyes widen a bit as he takes the disk from me. “Yer kiddin’ me?”

  “Not a bit.”

  He lets out a guffaw. Then another. Then erupts into hearty laughter. “And to think all this time we just needed some pipsqueak diplomatic ambassador type to get the ball rolling.” Charmed. “How are you getting along, Mathan?” he asks the boy with an over-enthusiastic slap on the shoulder. “Enjoying your time with them Civies?” Mathan’s head bobs casually and rhythmically. He may as well be keeping time with the music blasting from his headphones as nodding an answer to the question. “I see some things ain’t changed.”

  “To be fair, my electronics are all still in one piece,” I interject. Or at least back in one piece.

  “Is that so?” For all I just did for the man, he’s still suspicious as hell. Perhaps I’m not the most trustworthy source, but I’ve already bled more for the cause than a
ny other outsider ever would.

  I give Paige the names of the contacts with the Aggies and how to get ahold of them, then Mathan and I make our way out and back home. We’re only a hundred yards away before Mathan relaxes and appears to be his old self again. Not quite at peace, but as close to it as anybody who has to deal with me on a regular basis can come.

  *****

  Stashing the truck, we make the long walk back to the apartment. I don’t bother checking my phone to see what time it is. I know it’s damn late. Closer to sunrise than sundown, just not sure how much closer.

  I sense rather than see Mathan’s body tense beside mine as I open the door to our apartment. Did I leave the lights on? Then I spy Valerie sitting on the couch and looking weary. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You failed to check in,” she sighs, though her face seems more relaxed upon our arrival. “We have an update and instant action is required.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t just walk into some guy’s apartment and wait around. What if I’d been naked?” Again.

  “In the middle of the night? Why would you be walking the streets naked?” You don’t know me. “I tried to contact you through your cell phone multiple times and even sent you a number of messages. Straight to voicemail.”

  Confused, I pull my phone from my pocket and look down. Whaddya know? Dead battery. “Who is this?” I follow her gaze to Mathan.

  “You guys follow my every waking movement and bug the crap out of my apartment. Please don’t play dumb with me.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Fallows, it was meant as a formality. I would like your explanation of who he is and why he is staying in your apartment.”

  “Long lost brother.”

  “No he’s not.”

  “Live in housekeeper?”

  “Still no.”

  “Don’t you have some urgent business to discuss with me?”

  She nearly shakes with irritation. “Yes, I absolutely do. But I can’t discuss it in front of unknown entities,” she says with a gesture of her head towards Mathan.

  “Then step into my office.” I motion my hand towards the tiny hallway that holds doors for the bathroom and bedroom. “Mathan will turn his music up really loud so he can’t hear anything that might drift through the walls, right buddy?” He responds with a thumbs up and instantly moves to claim Valerie’s seat before she’s barely stood. She follows behind me grudgingly through the door into my bedroom, pausing briefly to close it behind her.

  “One of our informants has leaked information of a potential break-in by the data thieves sometime this morning before sunrise.”

  “Well that’s good. You can heighten security and put a stop to it.”

  “That is an option, but we want to move on the offensive. Heightening security will either sway the thieves from breaking in or only result in the apprehension of a seemingly endless supply of recruits.”

  “So where do I come in?”

  “We want you to break in as well.” She powers the screen of her datapad, opens a file, then hands it over to me. “You will pose as another data thief with no ties to government or the UA and intercept the download.”

  “Intercept the download? You know I don’t have the power to stop downloads, right? I can’t even stop my phone from downloading and updating apps.”

  “You have to turn that feature off in the settings.” She catches me giving her a look. “What I mean is, with the virtual gear, you’ll be able to find moving data as if it were a stream. I’m only asking you to drop a fish in their stream.”

  “What kind of fish?”

  “The kind that contaminates the water supply, kills all of the local flora and fauna, then reports the location of all host servers and their children to the UA for prompt and swift disposal.”

  “That’s… that’s kinda dark.” Something about our exchange is giving me a sour feeling in my stomach. I’m hoping it’s not my intuition that this is another huge set-up and I’m their number one fall guy and something more innocent like an oncoming erection at the way she says ‘fauna’. But I have a feeling I won’t be that lucky as I peruse the building schematics and locations of the server rooms. “These are all sub levels.”

  “Is that a problem? Your file suggests that you’ve worked in underground buildings before.” Daggers fly from my eyes before she can catch her mistake. That data was supposed to be erased as part of my last deal and she knows it. “Suggested,” she fumbles, trying frantically to recover lost ground. “That portion of your file has mysteriously vanished.”

  “I’m so sure,” I grimace with a voice dripping with irony.

  “We aren’t certain which server room is their target, but you shouldn’t have any trouble locating them once you’re inside.” She steps alongside me and slides her fingers across the screen of the pad, zooming in and adjusting the angle. “You have multiple options of entry here, here, and here. Security has been strengthened due to the nature of the most recent raids and we do not have intel on exactly what to expect. What I can tell you is that they more than likely have installed measures with the limitations of the virtual gear in mind.”

  “What are its limitations?”

  “It only deals with electronics. So this is where your natural skills become essential. Just please be careful and don’t forget about your other senses while utilizing the gear.” Her hand reaches out to touch my arm, but stops short. Whatever expression was on her face is wiped clean in the instant it takes to meet her eyes. “Are there any questions?”

  “Yeah. What’s the extraction plan?”

  “Extraction?”

  “Is evacuation a better word? Once I get in and poison the well, how do I get back out again?”

  “Oh right. Once you’ve accomplished your task, turn yourself into guard custody.”

  “So the guards are in on it?”

  “No. Not at all. Let yourself be apprehended and we’ll deal with the situation from there.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. First of all, how can you guarantee that they won’t shoot me on sight.”

  “It goes against their training.”

  “And second of all, I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “You signed away your right to pride when you agreed to join the UA.” I stand stunned, jaw open, freeze frame on the way to make my next point that has mysteriously vanished from my mind. “Charge your phone, I expect you to check in the second the task has been accomplished.”

  “But before I’m taken into custody and have all of my equipment confiscated, right?”

  She pauses at the door and turns to look at me sternly. “Everyone is counting on you to get this done. More people than you can imagine. I have no doubts of your success. You shouldn’t either.”

  Something in the way she said it, maybe her expression, gave me all of the permission I needed to plan an alternate method of escape. I look back around the room, remembering all too well that every corner of the small space is under constant surveillance, even when the primary watcher is present.

  Maybe I’m a creature of habit, but regardless of her deep knowledge of all of my domestic secrets, I wait until she has left the room before extracting my old infiltration gear from its hiding spot. She was right, this sort of business is right up my alley. I may have gotten a bit rusty over the past few months, but breaking and entering has been my career for the entirety of my adult life. Securing my gear in the usual stash places about my person, I hope that my recent brush with death and short recovery hasn’t left me too weak for the task, but I have no intention of mentioning the weakness to Valerie. Especially since I have no interest in describing the events surrounding the injection and my involvement with individuals outside of the districts.

  Feeling appropriately dressed, I step out and find Mathan sitting on the couch, distracted with his refurbished datapad. Valerie is watching him suspiciously. The duffel bag of virtual gear and confiscated narcotics is resting beneath his feet. I can’t tell if he has his feet
on the bag to keep it from Valerie, or for another reason altogether.

  Not bothering to disturb Mathan’s booted feet, I unzip the bag just enough to extract the virtual gear and stash it inside of my jacket. “I assume you have better things to do this late in the evening than hang around my apartment waiting for me to return? Unless you’re hoping for a goodnight kiss.”

  “You still haven’t explained why you have an augmented person living with you,” she states matter-of-factly with her arms crossed.

  “Alright ya got me. He’s a state of the art cybernetic sex toy. I have him on loan from research and development, but I’m too bashful to give it a try so I keep him for menial tasks.” The grimace on Mathan’s face suggests he doesn’t agree with this explanation. “I have to go to work. I’ll catch up with you later, Val.”

  Thirty-Three

  The brisk morning air is more relaxing than chilling as I sit slumped on a plastic park bench, all too painfully reminded that I haven’t had more than a few hours of restless sleep after days of physical and mental strain. Through the towers of commerce all around, I can see a faint blue start to awaken on the horizon. The building itinerary indicates that the guards change at 6:00 a.m. Given the circumstances, I don’t believe it for a minute, but the usual rounds of amateurs putting all of their faith in electronic devices are sure to buy it. Instead, I busy myself pondering what measures I would put in place against infiltrators that operate on electronics alone. From my imagination, alternate guard schedules are the least of my worries.

  The schematics are surprisingly thorough: a three-dimensional wireframe of the building that allows for full rotation and zooming. Alternate features include overlays of electrical wiring, plumbing, ventilation and a variety of features I haven’t played with, each displayed with different colors and shades to avoid confusion.