by Jason Taylor
“Do you really think Tros will come after me?”
“I do. She knew you were close to figuring out the secret, and now that the military has a solution, she will move to neutralize anyone who she thinks could make a similar breakthrough. She needs to keep a lid on it. Removing me from the equation and shutting down the civilian lab was the first step. You are most definitely on their list, and once they find your connection to me, you will become an even higher priority. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they attacked me as soon as I’d queued my message for you. We should assume they will be coming for you soon.”
“You put me in additional danger?” she sputtered.
“They would be coming for you regardless of what I did. Maybe I sped up the timetable a little bit, but now, with my help, you might just have a chance of surviving. We need to get moving. They are surely analyzing the data in my node right now. I can’t say how much time we have left, but it can’t be much.”
Jill was in despair. “I don’t know anything about running. Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? No matter where I run, they can find me. How can I possibly hide from the government with an implant in my head? They can track my every move.”
“One step at a time. First, let’s get out of the city and put some distance between ourselves and the lab. I know a place we can go.” He spread his hands out in front of him. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
Jill narrowed her eyes. “Trust you? Now? After what you’ve told me?”
“Do you have a choice?” Matt asked calmly.
Jill’s shoulders slumped, the fire quickly going out of her. “No, I guess not. I don’t seem to have any good choices left.” She walked out of the room, toward the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Matt asked, looking worried.
“Look, I don’t know how long we’re going to be gone. I need to get some food, and I need to let my flat-mates know I’m leaving.”
“Wait, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“We need to avoid anything that will trigger a flag in the monitoring systems. If you tell anyone what’s going on, you could set off an immediate counter-response.”
“I have to tell them something! If I just disappear, it’s going to seem really odd. That could set off flags as well.” She stopped walking and thought about it for a moment. “What if I tell them I’m going on a short vacation? I could say it’s to deal with the stress of the lab closure and all that. I can tell them I need to get away to clear my head.”
“I think that could work.”
As they entered the kitchen, Jacob appeared. “Hi Jill, how was your day?” he asked.
“You have a Jacob?” Matt asked.
Jill could feel herself blushing. “I installed him so I could practice talking with men.” She turned to Jacob impatiently. “Not right now, ok?”
“That’s alright Jill, I’ll see you later,” and he shimmered out of view.
Matt quirked an eyebrow at her. “I can see you’re getting really good at it. Your practice has clearly paid off.”
Jill could swear she saw the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “How is this relevant?” she shot back.
“You’re right. I apologize.”
Jill turned pointedly away and asked the synthesizer to prepare her a meal to go. After graduating from college, once she’d saved enough money, she had formed an apartment cooperative with three other women. They shared all the costs equally and had divided the space between them. Over the years, the cooperative had added more women, expanding until it covered the entire sixth floor of their apartment building. The location wasn’t the best, deep in South Seattle, but it felt like home. She’d grown to love it here.
She triggered her interface and immersed herself in the virtual common-room for her floor. While they had physical common space in the building, the shared kitchen being one example, the virtual rooms were more comfortable and more flexible, so they tended to get more use. Once inside, she found that Mary and Lenna were already there. They were sitting on a red leather couch, their heads nearly touching as they talked animatedly. Mary was a teacher, nearly ten years older than all the other women, a deep sadness evident anytime she let her face relax. The fertility treatments still weren’t working.
Lenna was a hairstylist, her long blonde hair twisted in an intricate braid that started on the side of her head over her ears, extending halfway down her back. Usually Jill would have complimented her, but she couldn’t bring herself to engage in small talk after everything she’d been through today.
“Hey Jill, I heard about what happened at your lab,” Mary said.
“Sucks,” Lenna added in.
“Thanks, it’s been a hard day. The whole thing has hit me kind of hard I guess. I think I need a break. I’m going to leave town for a while. Maybe if I get away, I can clear my head and figure out what I’m going to do next.” She could feel herself starting to tear up. It really had been a hard day, she wasn’t lying about that. “Do you think you could watch my stuff while I’m gone?”
“Of course! Where are you headed?” Mary asked.
“Just somewhere north,” Jill said, keeping it vague.
Mary’s eyebrows pinched together, her brow furrowing. It was clear she was curious, but she wasn’t going to push any further.
“I don’t blame you,” Lenna pitched in, “you must be super stressed.”
“Um. Yeah, you could say that,” Jill said, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Have a great vacation, ok?” Mary said. “And don’t worry about your apartment. We’ll keep an eye on everything for you.”
Jill nodded her thanks and then gave each of them a hug. She turned to the console on the wall and typed out a short message. It would let all the other women in the cooperative know that she’d be gone so they wouldn’t start to worry about her. They could always get in touch with her through her node if they needed to.
With a distracted wave goodbye, she disconnected and opened her eyes back into the kitchen. “Ok Matt, let’s get out of here.”
Matt’s construct was full of surprises. When she tried to call a car, he stopped her and put in the call himself. He used an alternate identity, reasoning that it would make it harder for the government to track them. Now they were sitting in the back seat, a constant backdrop of nondescript buildings flowing past the windows. She’d turned off all of her filters so she could watch the real world for a while.
“Matt?”
“Yes?” he said, turning toward her.
“You mentioned Icarus in the recording. What is Icarus?” she asked.
“Icarus is a he, not an it,” Matt said, holding her gaze. “He’s the leader of the Ghost Squad.” He paused for a moment to gauge the impact on her.
“Ghost Squad? The terrorist hacker group? That Ghost Squad?!”
“Yes, that Ghost Squad.”
“What the fuck! Are you in with terrorists? What the hell am I doing here with you? I need to get out of this car.” She triggered her interface to stop the vehicle. She would figure out her next steps after she got out. Maybe she could go back to her apartment and pretend as if none of this had ever happened.
“Don’t get out, you’ll regret it,” Matt said.
She froze. “Is that a threat?”
Matt sighed. “No. Not a threat. Just give me a moment to explain, ok?”
Jill took the time to think it through. Her lab was nationalized, that was a fact. Matt was dead. That was a fact too. His construct was in her node, so even if she went back to her apartment, he would still be with her. If she wanted to get rid of him, it would take some serious effort to delete him. She could do it, but she was already involved, already on the run in the government’s eyes. Returning to her apartment wouldn’t change that.
“Goddammit!” she growled, exasperated. “Go ahead. Try to explain it to me. Once you’re done, I’m going to delete your ass out of my node.”
&n
bsp; “I told you about the dangers of the cloning project. You understand that, right?” Matt asked, trying to calm her down.
“There are concerns. I get that. But when have we ever let that stop us from making scientific progress. To expect us to stop researching a promising technology is to expect us to stop being human.”
“Can we agree that we shouldn’t let the technology stay in the hands of the military?”
“Yes,” she agreed begrudgingly.
“When I saw the plans to weaponize genetic engineering, I started poking around. I was looking for someone who could help me slow Tros down. I found Icarus. He has blood on his hands, I know that, but he’s also the head of the most powerful hacker collective in the country. I’ve been feeding him information, and he’s been using it to organize protests and… some other things,” Matt said.
“Other things…” Jill said skeptically. “What kind of other things?” She shook her head violently. “You know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Matt nodded, “Very well.”
They emerged from the city into the northern exurbs. The damage caused by the Great Unrest was more evident here. The skeletal remains of old buildings stood tall and foreboding along the side of the road, and the surrounding earth had a blasted look. The areas outside of Seattle still hadn’t fully recovered; it wasn’t clear if they ever would. Jill turned her filter back on, and the wasteland was replaced by a scene from the late 20th century. There was a shiny green sign on the side of the road. “Welcome to Mt Vernon,” it said in precise, white lettering.
“Where are we going exactly?” Jill asked.
“It’s probably better if I don’t tell you,” Matt responded.
Jill shrugged. She was past the point of shock and well into numbness.
An hour later, after driving off the main road and through an aging network of secondaries, they arrived at their destination. It was an honest to God farmhouse surrounded by acres of open land. Jill turned her filters off and gaped. Still a farmhouse. A little older, a little more weathered, but the same building that her filter had shown her. The open space was still there too. The farmhouse was surrounded by a low, stubbly field, cottonwood trees forming a windbreak on the eastern side. A small creek ran at the back of the property, lushly vegetated with dogwood and elderberry bushes, alder growing like weeds wherever the trees could suck up some water. A few maple trees stood tall, their thick branches reaching out like welcoming arms.
Jill shut her mouth with a snap. “Where are we?”
“Welcome to the Overbee homestead,” Matt said.
“This is yours?”
“My family’s. Well, we have rights to it.” He paused. “It’s complicated.”
“Matt, I had no idea.”
A small kernel of joy tingled in her belly. A farmhouse. A real farmhouse! She grabbed her bag, walked up the porch to the front door, and stepped in.
Chapter 10
Jill sat on the front porch, watching the sunset and enjoying the view without the need for a filter. As the air cooled, a light mist rose from the field; white tendrils pushed their way through a sea of yellow stalks that had been left behind from the fall harvest. She heard the gurgle of a creek, and the soft hoot of an owl. It was peaceful. This far from the city, when the sun finished setting it would be very dark. She was going to enjoy looking at real stars.
She knew she was ignoring her problems. She was at her best when she could relax, when she could let her subconscious work on a solution without her conscious mind getting in the way. In the meantime, she would wait patiently. Cultivate her zen. She had even convinced Matt’s construct to turn itself off for a while. She was completely alone.
“What if I contacted Icarus?” she thought aloud.
“What?” Matt said, suddenly in front of her looking incredulous. “Contact Icarus?”
“I thought you’d turned yourself off,” Jill said indignantly, her sense of calm shattered.
“I was. Well, more like in standby. I didn’t want to leave you entirely alone. It’s far too dangerous.”
Jill glared at him.
He was the picture of innocence and concern.
“Ok, whatever. Let’s get to work.” She took a deep breath and said it again. “What if I contacted Icarus?”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“First of all, he’s a known terrorist. Contacting him could get you in serious trouble.”
“You contacted him,” she said
“And look where that got me.”
“Fair point,” she nodded. “What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?” he asked
“You said first of all. What’s second?”
“Right. Secondly, he’s dangerous. Very dangerous. He has reach. Both physical and virtual. You don’t want to mess with him.”
“I’m not planning on messing with him. I’m planning on asking him for help.”
“Help?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he help you?” Matt asked.
“You said he’s against the cloning project, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you think the military branch of the cloning project is trying to kill me?”
“Yes.”
“Enemy of my enemy,” she said.
Matt was looking at her like she was crazy. He probably wasn’t wrong.
“You know? The old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Jill looked up at the darkening sky, the first stars prickling through. “God help me, it looks like we’re on the same side now.”
After thirty minutes of not being able to talk her out of it, Matt eventually agreed to help her contact Icarus.
“The first thing you need to know about Icarus is that he is arrogant. Extremely arrogant. He believes he has skills that no one else has. Who knows, maybe he’s right.”
“Arrogant, check. Also dangerous. Good combo.” Jill shook her head, trying to make light of her increasingly desperate situation.
“Yes, also dangerous.” Apparently, Matt wasn’t programmed for humor. “The second thing you need to know is just because you try to get in touch with him, it doesn’t mean he’ll respond. If he does respond, he will do it on his own timeline. We may be taking a huge risk for nothing.”
“I understand that. Do you have any better ideas?” she asked angrily. “It doesn’t matter what we do. If we stay, Tros will find us. If we run, she will still find us. We don’t know how much time we have, but it isn’t much.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Then let’s get started.”
She closed her eyes, triggered her interface, and entered her personal-node. She was inside a perfectly white cube, her node-console floating in the center, Matt standing to one side. This was her clean-room. It was the safest virtual location she owned, and it was her best option for contacting Icarus without immediately bringing the authorities down on her head. All the data transmitted from this room was routed through a series of anonymized servers spread randomly across the world. It didn’t mean she couldn’t be tracked, but it would require more time. Hopefully, enough time for her to make a plan with Icarus that would allow her to see tomorrow morning alive.
“Let’s do this,” she said.
Matt pulled a thin, black needle from his jacket pocket and inserted it into the console. It was his personal signature, programmed to single-cast to Icarus’s node. If Icarus was listening, he would see that Matt wanted to talk. If he chose to talk back, he’d follow the signal to Jill’s node and initiate a connection.
They waited.
Five minutes later, a figure wearing a Guy Fawkes mask appeared in Jill’s clean-room.
“Really?” she said to Icarus.
“What?” Icarus asked, surprised.
Matt looked horrified and was making small hand motions, trying to get Jill to stop provoking him.
“You are the world’s most famous hacker, and you show up weari
ng that?” Jill asked.
“What’s wrong with my avatar?” Icarus asked.
“It’s unbearably trite. Didn’t you hackers move away from the whole Guy Fawkes thing ages ago?”
“Maybe I like to respect the past.”
They stared at each other for a tense moment and then Icarus bent over laughing. “I’ve been using this avatar for years. Years! And no one has ever called me out on it.” He kept laughing. “You’re literally the first one.”
When he’d finished laughing, he pulled the mask off, tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks. He had high cheekbones and a broad forehead framed by a shock of black hair. His eyes were the palest blue, set off by a dark ring at the edge of each iris. He was striking.
“I need your help,” Jill said
“Ok, we’ve had our fun. I came here because of Matt’s signature, and I’m willing to listen to you because you amuse me. But I don’t have much time, make it quick.”
“Matt’s dead.” Jill said, hoping to throw him off guard.
“Yes, I know,” he said, unfazed.
“Tros has discovered how to make a human clone.”
“Yes, I know that too.” He was tapping his foot, looking impatient.
“I know how they’re going to do it,” she said, rushing the words out.
That caught his interest. “Say that again,” he said slowly.
“I know the secret to human cloning,” she said, and then she looked away from his intense stare, unable to maintain eye contact.
“Now, that is interesting. Tell me what you know. You have my full attention.”
“I won’t tell you anything until you give me what I need first. You have to promise to help me.”
“I can’t help you. No one can. You’re fucked,” Icarus said with zero emotion, as if he were talking about the weather.
“What do you mean? Why can’t you help me?”
“Tros’s goon squad is on their way right now. In fact, they are converging on your little farmhouse as we speak. No one can help you, not even me. What I can do for you, is make sure that the information you carry lives longer than you do. I can set your data free. If you give it to me, then by tomorrow morning everyone will have it. I’ll broadcast it to the world.”
