by Eric Warren
He shook his head as he hobbled along. He should have just knocked the human out and carried her.
Fourteen
JONN GLARED AT THE OPAQUE WALL. His internal chronometer notified him it had been hours since that…person stole Arista. What had they done with her? And when was someone going to let him out of this room? They had to know he was here. The power was on; the cameras would be monitoring.
He rubbed his face with his hands. Why did this have to happen? He could have gotten her out. He didn’t need some freak in a mask showing up and snatching her away from him.
His head hurt. He tried to shake it off, but something was building in his central cortex. A pressure. It was the only way he knew how to describe it. What happened when the pressure became too much?
As the thoughts crossed his mind, the opaque wall shimmered, revealing Xian and two Peacekeepers this time, neither of which were Patrick.
“Jonn, are you alright?” Xian asked. “We’ve been looking for you.”
He had no way to double-check his eyes to make sure they were still red. An internal scan told him the code was in place, but he needed to be sure. Why hadn’t he taken the opportunity to check while waiting? The bathroom had a mirror after all. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Report.”
“As soon as I heard the alarms I rushed up here to secure the prisoner. Whoever broke in overpowered me, gained access to the room and stole Arista from the facility. I was trapped in here in the struggle.” He tried to not let his eyes wander to the Peacekeepers. He had an urge to retch. Was this nervousness? It felt so powerful.
Xian clucked his teeth. “Unfortunately for you our visitor must have broken into the security feeds and altered them as well.”
For a moment he didn’t understand. Then it hit him. The cameras had recorded everything. Of course. They had him.
“And after a cursory review it seems you were the one who helped the prisoner out of the room you helped us design. How do you think Charlie feels about that?”
“I thought…I thought moving her—”
“Save your excuses. I want to know when she changed you.”
“Changed me?” His eyes darted around the room. And there, in the periphery of his vision was that flash again! It was like a wisp just out of reach. His head hurt.
“Don’t play stupid. We know she altered your state of being before we ever approached you. And somehow you managed to disguise it from us. Was that your plan all along? To free her?”
He was caught dead to rights. But if he said yes, they would have him admitting to treason. Which was just as bad as being human to begin with. “I don’t know what my plan was,” he admitted. It was the truth, he’d never had a solid plan. Until this point he’d been running on pure instinct.
Xian grinned and clasped his hands behind his back. He strolled toward the left wall. Jonn’s eyes followed him.
“I’m curious. How did you manage to change your eyes to red?”
“What?”
Xian pointed to his own eyes, a dull shade of crimson. “Tell me, or you will never leave that room. You will remain in there until your power cells die and you experience body lock, trapped for eternity in a husk that can no longer interact with the world. Your cortex will not be uploaded to the Collective Consciousness. It is a fate worse than any other imaginable.”
He didn’t have a choice. If he ever hoped to leave he’d have to cooperate in one way or another. And a strange part of him wanted to. Wanted them to find Arista and bring her back. At least if she was here he could keep an eye on her. And they could speak every day. Out there who knew what could happen. With her face plastered everywhere she was sure to be killed by a Peacekeeper on a mission.
“I, uh, modified my own code. I knew where to search and performed a mental adjustment.” He released the mental block he’d been holding. If his eyes weren’t orange before, they were now.
Xian stepped back. “Fascinating.”
Jonn suddenly realized his value. He stood, insistent. “As a psychologist, I have access to files on top of files about our anatomy in the case a patient isn’t responding to treatment. If a patient wouldn’t respond to therapy, according to their programming, I had the ability to initiate force changes when necessary, which happens to include cosmetic changes. You wouldn’t believe how many subjects would be sent to me that just had a minor malfunction like they lost the ability to taste. Psychologists are our society’s only defense against random malfunction. I know where the codes in my CPU are stored, and how to modify them. I know all the shortcuts of the machine brain.”
“Interesting.” He rubbed his chin. “Well, thanks.” He turned to leave the room.
“Wait!”
Xian turned back, looking over his shoulder, smirking.
“What if…I could teach your Peacekeepers to do it? Or if they can’t I can make the change myself.”
“You don’t seriously think we would trust you, do you? You put on a good show but knowing you had possibly developed unsanctioned and uncontrollable feelings for the subject, your judgment is compromised.”
“I’ll admit I lied. I had wanted to get her out. But now I want nothing more than to have her back. And if that means I need to help your men camouflage themselves then I’m willing to do it. But you have to promise me you won’t harm her when you bring her back.”
“I make no promises. For that, you’ll have to talk to Charlie.”
Jonn had to keep himself from cringing. A talk with the boss was exactly what he hoped to avoid.
“I’ll take it under advisement.” Xian said, serious. “You’ve turned out to be more interesting than I anticipated. We’ll speak again soon. Or we won’t.” He turned and exited the room, the two Peacekeepers close behind him.
Fifteen
ARISTA STAYED CLOSE TO THE WALLS as she navigated the alleyways of downtown Chicago. Despite the chaos, wearing normal clothes helped. That hospital gown had been the worst. She hadn’t heard a siren since leaving Cadre HQ, which meant her dampener must still be working. Whatever Patrick had done to her in the hospital obviously hadn’t disrupted the Device, despite how painful it had been.
His torture equipment was probably something left over from the old days; something designed only to hurt organics, which would explain why the Device was unaffected. Now all she had to do was keep her head down. It was hard to imagine only a few hours ago she’d been locked in a room with no door, considering her final options because her future seemed so bleak. And now look where she was, out in the city, like it was just any other day. Not only had she been shortsighted, but she’d forgotten what her parents taught her: never give up, no matter what. Never stop fighting for life, because it was precious and rare and a gift. And even though those dark thoughts had dominated her consciousness for a short time it still felt like a betrayal to everything she’d known. She was never going there again. No matter what happened from here on out, she would find a way to survive. Anything less was an insult to everything she was.
As she made her way across the alleyways her stomach grumbled. She’d had too little to eat the past few—how long had it been? A week since Manheim? Since she’d had a normal meal in her normal apartment. In some ways it seemed like only hours. Time felt different in that place. Regardless, they hadn’t kept her fed well enough. She needed to get back home to her nutrient shots, but there was no way now. They’d probably ransacked her apartment looking for evidence of other humans. Her only shot now was Mom and Dad. If she could contact them, everything would be okay.
Arista waited at the end of an alleyway looking out on Wabash. A crowd gathered at the street crossing, waiting for the light. As soon as it turned, she shuffled into the throng; moving along with them, keeping her head down until she reached the far side and ducked into another alley. The Device displayed a local map of the area. Two buildings down street-side stood the closest augment shop. It would have to do, she couldn’t afford to be picky.
The store
fronts were on the street, but the delivery doors were all on the alley side. Above her an old fire escape climbed the wall. She reached up but couldn’t grasp the bottom rung. She jumped, grabbed the ladder with her hand and tried to pull herself up but only ended up hanging there for a short moment before dropping back down. If she’d had both hands she might have been able to pull herself up. Or maybe if she were one of the machines. The stranger had made that long jump across the buildings so easily. Had Arista tried it she would have gotten about halfway and fallen to her death. But she could really use some of his strength right now.
Arista glanced around, looking for anything to stand on until she saw an old, rusted trash bin. Grabbing it, she pulled it over, making a great scraping noise on the ground. After a nearly falling off she steadied herself on the top and reached up for the ladder again. This time she managed to jump and get one foot on the bottom rung.
“Ha!” She worked her way up until she came to a good vantage point on one of the landings, a couple of floors up. Below her people milled about on the streets as they crossed in front of the open alleyway. People just going about their daily lives; something she’d never had the luxury of imagining about herself. Each time she’d made the attempt it had come to disaster. She watched, mesmerized at the complex system before her. There were the shoppers, moving methodically from one store to another; the business people, talking on their phones and carrying their briefcases; the miller-abouts, on skateboards, reading books, or listening to music; and finally, the maintenance crews, those sweeping up after everyone else, removing the trash, operating the recycling vehicles. Everyone had a part to play; it was a finely-tuned mechanism that she found fascinating to watch. But it was all just an imitation of something long gone from this world. And she never had and never could be a part of it. Not anymore. She’d be running for the rest of her life.
She turned over on the metal grate and sighed, staring up into the hazy gray clouds resting over her like an ornate ceiling. Eventually a delivery vehicle would show. Until then, she had nothing but time.
***
A low rumble in the distance roused her. She snapped awake and focused on the bright red delivery carrier hovering down the alley. Tall, thin, and slow, it resembled a moving billboard. They were the perfect vehicle to rob, not that anyone ever had that inclination. At least no one that hadn’t been programmed to do it. There hadn’t been an unscheduled crime in her entire lifetime, though her parents told her not everything was reported on the daily newscasts. Everything is not as it seems, Arista. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head. But in order for the police to do their jobs, some citizens had to be programmed to commit crimes. For the system to work, there had to be people on both ends. Arista just hoped his one might go unnoticed.
The delivery vehicle plodded along by itself, no driver, typical for the delivery vans. And yet the vehicle still had a cab up front for a driver to sit in; though she couldn’t figure out why. As if they’d been designed for someone to operate, then automated without removing all the extra superstructure. The design made no sense. It stopped one building up and the side rolled open, ejecting a large box. A few moments later a man came out and retrieved the box. Her stop was next, right below her for the phone store’s daily delivery.
She shimmied down the three stories of the fire escape; holding on tight with her hand. The last thing she needed to do was lose her balance, fall off and break something. Her new boots hit the pavement just as the truck slowed. The far side opened and she heard it eject the cargo before continuing on its path on down the alley. As it cleared the box sat alone at the back entrance. She dashed over and grabbed the cardboard, pulling one end up, ripping it in the process. On the top sat a stack of brand-new, individually wrapped Embed Phones, perfect. She grabbed two just as she heard the back door unlock. By the time it opened she had rounded the corner and was completely out of sight of the store owner. If they did report it, she had time. No one ever did anything fast. The police would ponder over the box, look for an explanation and when they came to the inevitable conclusion they had been the victims of an unscheduled crime, call it in. It would take some time for the Peacekeepers to take notice from the police. She estimated she had at least twenty minutes. Maybe twenty-five.
Unwrapping the first phone she pulled the small tab from the back, activating the device. She wouldn’t be able to insert it under her skin by herself, especially one-handed, but she didn’t need to. This was a one-time call. The Device displayed the machine’s schematics in her visual field, directing her to open the lone access port on the front to gain access to the call features. She did so and the holographic pad of numbers appeared in the air above the device. Normally they would appear right on the skin but it should still work the same. She managed to bypass the command code and access the device. As soon as she’d established an audio connection she dialed.
“Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of Emily Barnes. Please leave a message at the tone.”
She hung up. That wasn’t good, Mom was never out of contact and always answered because they were never without their comms. And they never slept so there was little reason for them not to answer. Even if they had to excuse themselves from something. And if they knew something had happened to Arista, they would never let a call go unanswered, even if they didn’t recognize the caller.
Okay, it had just become a two-call phone instead of one. She dialed her father’s number and again was greeted with a voicemail. That only left three possibilities. Either they had gone deep underground in hiding, had left the reach of the grid—South America maybe—or they had been found and killed. She prayed it was the first two. They were only in danger because of her, because she screwed up.
They’re probably fine. Mom’s much smarter than you and Dad put together. She got them out, I know it.
A high-pitched wail blasted through the air, causing her to jump. She peered around the corner and saw a large vehicle with flashing lights and sirens blazing barreling down the street, regardless of the pedestrians. Most didn’t make an attempt to move as the vehicle blew by, missing them by inches. A woman pushed her carriage across the street directly in front of the vehicle, which showed no signs of slowing down. Arista had never seen this before, someone was behind that vehicle and they were not acting normal.
Without even attempting to swerve the vehicle plowed directly into the woman and the carriage, sending them careening into the air. They landed in the middle of the street, a baby bouncing out of the carriage and rolling a few feet before coming to a stop.
Everyone around them continued along as if nothing had happened.
Of course they did. This wasn’t part of “the plan”. No one knew how to react, so they did the simplest thing, nothing at all. The vehicle was long gone and yet the woman and baby lay there, probably critically injured. The carriage was crushed to pieces a few feet away. It must have been a Peacekeeper vehicle. This was turning out to be a day of all kinds of firsts.
Arista turned away, smashing the first phone underneath her boot. They would be fine. Eventually the Cadre or Peacekeepers would come to clean them up and repair them if possible. There was nothing she could do to help. The Peacekeeper vehicle had been heading toward Cadre HQ, probably backup to look for her.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she backed into the alley again. What now? Without knowing if her parents were alive or dead she had no plan. And she had no way to get food, though she could probably survive another few days at least. She’d read some pretty incredible things about the human body. It was highly adaptable in a crisis. But she needed to get off the streets, at least until she could find a way to contact her parents, if they were still out there. There was no way anyone would rent her a room; her face was everywhere by now not to mention all her monetary accounts had more than likely been shut down and emptied by the Peacekeepers. And getting out of the city was going to be tough, they’d be monitoring all the exit points.
It looked like there was no
other choice, she’d have to go back to the stranger. He’d mentioned something about finding her, which meant he probably had scanning equipment. Which further meant he might be able to locate the two people she most needed to find at the moment. Even if he did have horrible experiments for her it was better than landing back into the hands of the Cadre. Maybe she could make a bargain with him, he seemed…somewhat reasonable. If not, she had a much better chance of slipping out of the grasp of someone without Quantum Gates.
With a thought The Device pulled up the schematic of his felp gun again, the name making her chuckle.
The gun produced a unique type of harmless radiation, in the lower eK-bands that her Device had first picked up when she was close to him. A simple search should lead her right to him. And if he turned out not to be a maniacal torturer, it would be a bonus.
***
Frees stumbled as he reached his block. People on the street ignored him, like he didn’t matter. It was what infuriated him, not that they couldn’t help him, it just wasn’t in their programming. If he collapsed in front of them someone would call the hospital or repair bay, but as soon as his rescuers glimpsed his orange eyes he’d be spare parts for the recycling units.
He pulled himself along the walkway, one hand on the railing and the other on his abdomen wound, leaking worse than ever. He wondered how much fluid could leak out before he froze up and became completely useless. Home was close, only a couple more steps to the front door. Not only had he lost the human’s trail, he’d wasted precious energy trying to track her. He should have come straight home, fixed himself, then proceeded on the hunt. Now the human would have to wait; he was no good incapacitated. With a great deal of effort, he wrenched the door open and made his way to the lift.
