Code Jumper

by Zachariah Dracoulis

  “Heh, I’m sure of that,” I joked, “I loved the cops from The Fifth Element.”

  “That’s where they’re from!” Callomezi exclaimed like it’d been something that had been plaguing him for years, “I knew that I pulled them from somewhere in my memory. Ah well, they look original enough, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, like a ten-year-old tried to trace ‘em from a screenshot on his phone.” I mocked cautiously, realizing that one step too far toward insulting him could have less than desirable repercussions, “So, what’s with the world change? Looks like Re.Gen got the Bladerunner treatment.”

  “You noticed that, huh?” Callomezi replied innocently, “Well, after you left it took a while, and I mean a damn long while to figure out what the Hell that book o’ yours said. Then one day it just sorta clicked and, as is the way with the neural net, everyone gained access to it.”

  “And let me guess,” I said with a fake smile, “they went ahead and went crazy with it?”

  “Exactly!” the Don shouted in my ear, clearly falling for my false understanding of his ‘plight’, “Average Jill and Jack couldn’t be trusted with the ability to mess with the code, so I had to go ahead and lock it down, but that’s an issue that’s been sorted. Anyway, point is too much got changed, and things couldn’t exactly go back to normal after everyone’s tinkering, so I went ahead and cleaned house. Made some adjustments here, tweaked a bit there, and hey presto, you’ve got New Paradisum.”

  The whole thing was making my head swim, mostly because I knew for a fact that I was only getting half the story, but also because it seemed that, with a quiet little buzz and a tingle up my back, Quinn had finally finished fixing my brainpan.

  “Hey, Eddie?” Callomezi said, a certain level of hidden irritation in his voice, “What’s goin’ on with your code there?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, aha, I ain’t tryin’ to freak you out or nothin’, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you popped up there on that mountaintop, makin’ sure New Paradisum doesn’t get too wigged out by your… presence.”

  And just like that all my suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t want to call and chat, he wanted to keep tabs on me.

  “Nothing to worry about,” I replied with a smile, “just something we Code Jumpers have that helps us survive. Call it… antivirus.”

  “Ah, fair enough,” the Don said, making no effort to hide the fact that what I’d told him pissed him off to no end, “s’pose if it’s somethin’ that’s unavoidable there ain’t no sense in worryin’ about it, eh?”

  “Exactly.” I muttered with a silent sigh of relief before making the stupid decision to test the boundaries, “Well, you want me to stop by? Maybe we could continue this conversation in person?”

  “No.” Callomezi replied too quickly, before realizing his mistake, “I mean, I don’t really see the benefit of that, not until we can make sure your code ain’t gonna level the city.”

  “Too true, last thing we want is for me to accidently snap my fingers for a shot o’ whiskey and blow the entire place to Hell instead, yeah?”

  “Heh, it’s like you can read minds.”

  “Is a bit.” I said while struggling to maintain my smile, “Well, guess I better get back to work then.”

  Callomezi audibly sighed at that, but he wasn’t stupid enough to come right out and order me to stay put, “Hey, as long as it’s nowhere near the city, ain’t no skin off my back. Take care.”

  “You too.”

  I’d barely hung up the phone before the big cop had extended his palm out, the motion almost puppet-like.

  Without saying a word, I dropped the phone in his hand, put the car in gear, and hit the accelerator, almost taking the officer’s arm clean off as I peeled away as fast as I could in search of an exit.

  “How’re you holding up?” Quinn asked, her voice a cool relief and enough to settle my racing heart just a bit, “I noticed your heart rate shooting all over the place, and don’t even get me started on the various chemical imbalances.”

  “He can’t hear me, can he?” I replied desperately as I spotted an exit that put me back in the direction of the mountains and took it at double the speed I probably should’ve.

  “I… No, I don’t think so. Once I cleaned up the mess a bit I made sure we were more or less autonom-”

  “He wanted to kill me!” I growled, “That son of a bitch wanted to kill me, after everything I’ve done for him and his bullshit little outfit.”

  I’d heard the voice before, and the sort of questions and answers that only gave them what they’d wanted, only the last time I’d been fifteen and woken up in some cokehead’s basement, strapped to a chair, and ended up getting my leg cut off before the cops came busting in to save me.

  To be fair to the cokehead, I’d been the reason his shipping manifesto had been leaked, but still, I was a kid.

  There was still doubt in my mind though, something telling me that Callomezi was genuinely looking out for everyone’s safety by telling me to stay away.

  And then Quinn decided to open her mouth again with a weary sigh, “It sure seems that way, doesn’t it?”

  That was all the confirmation I needed.

  “What are we gonna do?” I asked with genuine fear in my voice, “Do we just find the portal and get the Hell out of here, or..?”

  “About that…” Quinn trailed off disappointedly, “I was able to pinpoint its location while you were talking with the Don, and I had hoped that you two were playing some kind of game with each other because…”

  “Because what?”

  I didn’t get a response for a few seconds, instead being left to hear her chirpy breaths start and stop as she struggled to find the words, but she did eventually decide that it was best to just come out and say it.

  “It’s in his building, the office opposite his. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he-”

  “Built the place around it? Yeah, I figured he would.”

  I didn’t mean to cut her off, and I sure as Hell didn’t mean to sound pissed with her, but the fact of the matter was I felt betrayed, completely and utterly.

  “Okay,” I breathed out after finally settling myself down a bit and pulling over next to an empty park, “so, what we’re dealing with is a guy who can change the code, is the definition of power-crazy, and will undoubtedly be able to track me the second I’m within range? Have I got all that right?”

  “He’s also got an army of police officers, robots, and, well, the army.”

  “Great,” I scoffed, throwing my arms up in the air and hitting the roof of my car in the process, “that’s just great…”

  We sat in silence for a little while, me rubbing my eyes, Quinn doing whatever her version of that was, before she finally decided to let a ‘funny little thought’ slip.

  “Heh, you know what’d be great right about now?”

  “A few more Code Jumpers and something to drink?” I replied with a half-hearted huff.

  “Perhaps, but I was thinking more along the lines of something more… narcotic in nature.”

  “Quinn, you saucy minx,” I mocked, “you want to sit around, poppin’ pills and partying ‘til the world ends?”

  “What? No!” she laughed, “No, I’m talking about Freedom. I know it’s not a possibility, but I think that it’d definitely be handy right about now.”

  Just like that, the cogs in my head started turning and I started to get the beginnings of an idea, “What if it was a possibility?” I asked, offering no context.

  “What?” Quinn replied, justifiably confused.

  “I just…” I trailed off before putting the car back in gear and pulling away, “We need a pot dealer.”

  PLAN A: GET HIGH AF

  “Okay, so explain it to me one more time?” Quinn requested with obvious irritation as we drove toward our destination, having only just broken free of the mountains and forests, “Your plan is to get super high off of the beach bum’s weed then�
�� what?”

  “No, that’s not the plan.” I sighed, the pain of explaining the concept to her for the fifth time genuinely driving me away from wanting to execute the plan altogether, “Remember when we went to him last time? He was mixing Freedom in with the soil so it couldn’t be traced? My idea is to get a bunch of that weed and basically hotbox my way through to the Don and then get the Hell out of here.”

  Quinn didn’t respond for a few moments, obviously going through what I’d said in her head, before letting out a confused huff, “Hmm… See, how is that any different from what I’ve been saying?”

  “Ugh, I don’t know how to explain it any better. Just trust me, okay?”

  “I’m not trying to shoot down your idea, I just don’t want you to get yourself killed.”

  “I… I get that you’re worried about me, I really do, but you don’t have to be.” I said, trying to convince the both of us, “Let’s get to the guy before we start getting stuck with hypotheticals.”

  “See, that’s the other problem, what if he’s not there? You do realize it’s been a really long time since that deal, right?”

  “I do, but… I don’t know, I’ve got a feeling that he’s not the kinda guy who just picks up shop and leaves.”

  “But what if it wasn’t up to him?” Quinn asked with very real concern, “You heard the Don, the guy’s clearly got a stranglehold here, and while he may not have eyes on you anymore, I sincerely doubt that anyone else has been able to stay out of his Sauron-like gaze.”

  That was a thought that had crossed my mind more than a few times since embarking on my quest to find the pot dealer, and I guessed that that was where Quinn was getting it from, but I’d been able to suppress it under the knowledge that I didn’t really have any other options, beyond keeping my head low until everything exploded.

  “Let’s just try, okay? We’re… what? Twenty minutes out? Let’s enjoy the opportunity to have some relaxation and just drive into the nice, cool night.”

  Quinn fell quiet again, but came back quicker and with a more confident breath, “Alright, if this is how you think we should proceed then who am I to tell you that you’re wrong?”

  “Heh, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “It’s passive ambivalence with hints of snarkiness or it’s nothing.” Quinn snapped jokingly before letting out a somber sigh, “I just hope this all gets wrapped up quickly…”

  “Me too,” I lied, “me too…”

  I don’t know if Quinn knew I was lying or not, but either way she decided not to say anything and left me to figure out some stuff on my own.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to hang around in the base game, it wasn’t even that I wanted to avoid the endgame with Messiah, it was just that I didn’t feel like I was ready.

  While it was one thing for me to be out playing a bunch of fun little games, it was something completely different being in a world that had become so distorted and foreign in the time I’d been away that I was constantly finding myself getting lost, as lost as I could get with the help of Quinn’s update to my ‘OS’ anyway.

  The rest of the drive to the beach was pretty relaxing, there were almost no cars out on the back roads, and once I was within about five miles I could hear the ocean.

  “You sure this is the place?” I asked as we drove down a dead-end road with a massive rock formation blocking the rest of the way to the beach.

  “This is the place.” Quinn replied assuredly, “It’s not like the mountains though, nothing’s really changed here.”

  “Heh, I’m gonna have to disagree with you there.”

  “Feel free to, but that’s the truth, as far as I can see there’s no rock actually there.”

  We were starting to get closer, and while every instinct in my body told me to slow down and stop, I kept moving, “So, what? It’s a hologram?”

  “If it were something as simple as a hologram I’d have seen it.” Quinn said, clearly somewhat offended that I’d implied that she hadn’t considered that possibility, “No, this is something else. Just keep driving as you are and you should be fine.”

  “I should be fine?” I scoffed, “Yeah, you go ahead and start shutting down segments of your memory, you should be fine.”

  “Hey, that’s uncalled for. Seriously, I thought you were starting to trust me.”

  A laugh of disbelief escaped me before I could stop it and I quickly scrambled to justify it, “I am! But this isn’t me running across a busy highway, or running from aliens, or even taking cover from some pissed off soldiers, this is driving into a rock wall.”

  “No, it’s driving through a rock wall.” Quinn clarified, “I’m positive it’ll be fine, okay? One hundred percent.”

  I didn’t mean to, but I hesitated, “One hundred percent?” I asked, my foot starting to lean some more on the gas pedal.

  “One hundred percent. Promise.”

  I wish I could say that was all I needed to finally convince me, but the truth was I was still pretty damn sure that death was the only thing waiting for me at the rocks.

  My foot pushed harder onto the pedal regardless though, and as I began to pick up speed I started to get more confident that it was the only way.

  “Come on…” I muttered, a smile playing across my face as I got to live one of my favorite sci-fi tropes, “just keep going…”

  “Wait!” Quinn shrieked, but it was too late.

  I’d already hit the wall.

  THE ISLAND OF DOCTOR BLUNT

  Now, I’m the kind of person who freaks out whenever people close their eyes when their driving, or shooting, or basically whenever they're handling something that could potentially kill them, but boy-oh-boy did my eyes lock tighter than a sphincter in a prison shower room when I hit that wall.

  Luckily in my panicked state I’d been smart enough to slam down on the brakes at the same time as closing my eyes, I would’ve ended up driving right into the water otherwise.

  Still, could’ve done without spinning three or four times, it made keeping everything that was left in my stomach a bitch.

  “Eddie,” Quinn whispered urgently, “Eddie, open your freakin’ eyes right this second.”

  For fear of getting zapped by her and being forced to open them anyway, I did as I was told and, with about as much subtlety as a Zack Snyder superhero film, gasped.

  We weren’t looking at some pot shack, no, no, no, we were looking at a damn manmade island just a mile or so out to sea, completely hidden by the large rocks that cocooned it.

  The best part, in my opinion anyway, was the massive concrete structure on the island, like some kind of Bond villain’s lair, with the huge green sativa painted on the side.

  “What the actual Hell…” I trailed off with a laugh as I put the car in park and climbed out, “How did he manage all this?”

  “I’m guessing he was smart enough to lock this little slice of land down before Callomezi went all Herr Don.” Quinn replied, equally as shocked and impressed as I, “There’s every chance in the world that Callomezi has no idea that this guy even exists.”

  “And I’d like to keep it that way,” a vaguely familiar voice said from about twenty feet beside me, “so take that revolver out of your holster there and dump it on the sand beside you.”

  “I will not,” I said with a sly grin, “but I will take it out and carefully place it on the sand.”

  “Whatever, just don’t try anything.”

  But try something I did, and before the guy could react, I’d pulled out my pistol, turned, dropped to a knee, and had it leveled with his wrinkled forehead.

  He was certainly different from what I remember, for one thing he wasn’t the type of person who typically held assault shotguns last time around, and for another he’d swapped out his dreggy beach clothes for dreggy scientist clothes, complete with a worn lab coat.

  “Wait…” the pot dealer said through his white beard before whipping his surprisingly soft gray hair out of his eyes, “you’re that Code Jump
er!”

  “That’s me,” I replied as I tapped my revolver’s handle to stop myself from preemptively pulling the trigger, “mind lowering that cattle-stopper of yours?”

  He took a few seconds to catch my meaning, but once he did he was quick to point his weapon at the ground, “Sorry, can’t be too careful.”

  “Agreed.” I said with as kind a smile as I could muster before holstering my weapon and getting to my feet, “Nice setup you’ve got here.”

  “You like it? Took me forever to get the security system to work right, even longer to make sure Don Douchebag wouldn’t accidently stumble across it in one of his scenery changes.”

  “Noticed that he decided to alter the geography, any idea why he scrapped the desert?”

  The dealer shrugged and smiled, “Guy probably just doesn’t like the sand.” he said before walking over with his hand outstretched, “Name’s Owen.”

  “Eddie.” I replied as I firmly shook Owen’s hand, “Nice to see you again.”

  “Heh, wish I could say the same.” Owen half-heartedly laughed, “I take it this isn’t a social call?”

  “No, ‘fraid it isn’t.”

  That’s when Quinn decided she’d had enough of my stalling, “Would you hurry up and ask him about his Freedom pot? This place is making me feel all… exposed.”

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Owen said with a smile before tapping his ear, “I’m not such a fan of letting dudes and dudettes in ‘ere, even less so when that dudette lives in the dude’s head.”

  “Oh good,” Quinn muttered, “now both of you can hear every word I’m saying, that’s just great.”

  “Relax,” I chuckled, “it’s probably for the best that we’re all a part of the conversation.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Owen replied before Quinn could, “Now, let’s get over to the island, shall we?”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond, instead I just got clapped on the shoulder and suddenly I was in a large room that may as well have been tie-dyed with its bean bags, hookah table, and psychedelic paint job that freaked me out the more I looked at it.