The Master Key

by T. K. Toppin

  “Stay where you are!” Ho snapped. “No one is leaving this place until I say so.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was torn between his daughter and the prize at hand. So he did care a little bit.

  It happened very quickly. While Ho was busy yelling at us, Mwenye abruptly stood and slammed his fist into Ho’s face. Ho staggered in shock as Mwenye reared up his large body and did something like a jump-kick, straight into Ho’s midsection. John flung Margeaux to me—I caught her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight grip. She grunted, her knees buckled, and she fell like dead weight in my arms.

  John launched at Ho, who’d just righted himself. The man had bloody murder in his eyes, his attention split between Mwenye and John both charging at him. Like a nimble monkey, Ho dived away. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Ox and Parker jump into the anteroom, guns blazing.

  “Get him out of here, now!” John yelled at me with fire in his eyes. “Go!”

  “I won’t be able to get past the anteroom!”

  “Just go!”

  With a growl, I turned. Clutching Margeaux around the waist, half-hoisting her like a sack, I pushed Simon’s chair and barreled my way to the door, keeping my head low. From the anteroom came desperate gunfire and yells. I caught sight of Ox on the floor, braced on his knees, shooting. He was grinning like a fool.

  Glancing back, I saw John and Mwenye hopping over an upturned desk in pursuit of Ho. They could probably run circles all over the mainframe room until they dropped down dead from exhaustion. There was nowhere to hide, just run.

  Parker shouted something. He looked right at me, eyes wide with urgency. Trying to focus, I barely caught him saying “Down!” before he dove straight toward us. He caught Margeaux and me and pushed us down back into the mainframe. Before we crashed to the floor spread-eagled, I saw Simon jerk sideways with a grunt.

  Brilliant lights flashed, and something boomed into my ears. My world shook violently; the injury to my shoulder screamed with blinding pain, and even my teeth ached. I didn’t even feel the ground come up under me or see anything around me. Parker lay like a ton of bricks on top of me, forcing the air in my lungs to come rushing out.

  The explosion blasted through the already wrecked anteroom. Hot, blistering air scorched us. For a moment, I forgot where I was, knowing only that I was alive and on the ground. Beside me, Margeaux wriggled and screamed—shrill and high—at the top of her lungs, like she was being murdered. It brought me to my senses. I gave her a rough shake, hoping she’d stop. It made it worse. She cowered in a fetal position. She’d lost her mind by the sounds of it.

  “Josie!” A panicked shout—John.

  “I’m fine!” I yelled back, uncertain which direction he was in.

  Parker hiccupped in spasms beside me. Something quite long and metallic stuck out from his back, and parts of his clothing smoldered.

  “I’m fine,” I repeated. Acrid smoke filled my eyes, stinging them with a vicious bite. Blinking rapidly to remove the sting, then I coughed and spat out grit.

  Scrambling to my feet, I darted my attention about. John, crouched low on the floor, was about thirty feet away, frozen beside a table. His eyes were riveted to mine. I nodded back. He broke away and turned to seek Ho again. Mwenye had just emerged from behind a cabinet, and spared John a look before he resumed his own search for Ho. Ho was nowhere to be found, even though I knew he couldn’t have left the room.

  Simon! Frantic, I turned and found him still sitting, facing me with a grim set to his face. He’d turned his chair at the last moment, the back of it taking most of the impact. It was smoldering, just like Parker’s back.

  “What happened?”

  “Some idiot launched a regular explosive in a contained area. That’s what happened,” Simon replied with a grimace. “Be glad it was only a small one.” His voice sounded weaker. Resigned.

  “Ox?” I called out. No reply. “Ox!”

  I turned back to Parker. He groaned, and his eyes rolled up in his head.

  “You can’t save him,” Simon spoke through gritted teeth. “Shut the girl up and let’s move it. I feel like a sitting duck.”

  “Oh, fuck!” I almost wailed.

  Parker was dying before my eyes. I had to do something—anything. Reaching out, I touched his face. He seemed oblivious to my presence. His whole body hitched and jerked, his breathing erratic and strained, face red with exertion. Blood kept pouring out of his mouth and nose as he gagged. The projectile, the leg of a metal chair by the looks of it, had pierced him from the back through into the lungs. To pull it out would kill him for sure, to leave it, the same. In desperation, I slammed my fists repeatedly into the floor and yelled. Why did the idiot have to save my life?

  I didn’t even know what to do. Watching the man die before me, helpless to save him, helpless to even ease his pain. Instead, I just reacted. Grabbing the still screaming Margeaux, I shoved her face to Parker’s and screamed at her to watch, watch while he died. Watch what madness she and her father had created, had caused. Just watch…

  I shook her as violently as she trembled. Her eyes were large and round, staring with manic desperation at Parker. And still I shouted to her to watch him.

  If Parker knew we were there, he could never tell me, but when he died at last, it was like a release. His face relaxed and his body slumped. Had he known what was happening? I would never know. I didn’t even know myself. Why had I dragged Margeaux to make her watch him die? I guess I will question myself for years to come.

  But, at last, she stopped screaming.

  “Josie,” Simon said softly. “Come, we must go.” He stared at me with an odd expression on his face and offered me his hand.

  I nodded, not even aware tears ran down my cheeks until I rubbed my face in agitation. I stared at my wet hands for a moment; they were covered with grit and blood. With an effort, I hauled up Margeaux, stood, and looked back to seek out John. I saw the top of his head darting around a shelving unit. Still safe. Still alive. I pushed the chair and Margeaux before me and bounded into the smoking anteroom.

  Ox lay unconscious. Two Junkies were dead and ripped apart. One Junkie coughed amid the smoke, alive and bleeding from his head, but dazed and incoherent. The droids were barely functional. Across the room, I couldn’t tell if what I saw were dead bodies or a scattering of body parts. The roasting stench was enough to have me swallowing hard. It appeared Ho’s men were all dead. Simon kept telling me to move forward. Not to stop, just keep going.

  “But, Ox,” I protested, already moving toward the big guy. I saw him stirring, rubbing his head.

  “He’ll be fine. It’ll take more than this to keep him down. Just go, Josie. Go.”

  Behind me, John shouted. He said something to Mwenye. Mwenye replied. Ho was laughing. I faltered in my steps, wanting to stay behind. But Simon needed me more. Simon, I had to help. I couldn’t with Parker, but I could—hopefully—with Simon. It took everything in me to turn away and leave John.

  Margeaux now just fell into step, walking beside me. I held her arm, more to guide her through the many twists and turns that were to come than control her. She didn’t say a word. A quick glance showed me how pale she was, her hair disheveled and uncharacteristically unkempt. She blinked, a lethargic effort, but her breathing was tight and strained, making her thin shoulders rise high and fall low. Something inside me tugged with pain at the sight. I felt horrible for what I’d done to her, what I’d been doing to her. I’d treated her no better than her own father had. He at least loved her. I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure if I could. But I had to admit; I did care. I promised to make it right for her when this was all finished. If we lived.

  Forcing Margeaux out of my mind for the moment, I glanced down at Simon and pushed his chair forward with determination. Right now, Simon came first.

  We had to use alternative routes. Thankfully, the Prosthetic Labs were on the same level. I couldn’t imagine having to haul Simon up stairs as well as drag Margeaux alon
g.

  “Josie…” Simon sounded winded and far away. “Tell Trudi that—”

  “Tell her yourself,” I snapped. Holy shit. What was he trying to say? I refused to hear it. I didn’t want to.

  “Listen to me. I may not be able to—”

  “I don’t care! You will, and whatever you have to say, you’ll say it to her in person. I’m not going to pass along some mushy-fuck to her. Don’t be disgusting.” My voice caught in my throat, so I swallowed as my vision blurred with tears. Simon wasn’t allowed to die!

  “Josie. I might not be able to, given the current circumstances,” Simon replied. “I feel myself…slipping.”

  “Just…shut up!” A whimper left me, so I clamped my teeth together, glad he couldn’t see my face. My mind filled with images of John, Margeaux, and all the dead. I shook my head to clear it and ordered myself to focus. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Simon, not right now.

  “Josie, please listen to—”

  “Look, you and I don’t do mushy, okay? Haven’t you gotten that through your head yet?”

  You can’t die on me, please. Don’t make me carry messages to Trudi, or Yumi. I can’t do that! I won’t do it. How can I? What could I possibly say to Trudi? How do I say it? Or your daughter… What the fuck am I going to say to her? Don’t make me do that—don’t, don’t, don’t!

  I refused to think it, even though I sensed the cold clutches of death were pulling at him. I had to suck it up. Had to.

  “Josie.” He sounded as if he were grinning. “You’re really one of a kind. But I must ask you this one favor. Please.”

  My nerves jangled me. I glanced backward, straining my ears for sounds. I wheeled him furiously down a deserted corridor; the back of my neck prickled and steeled me with purpose. I no longer felt like dropping to my knees and bawling while Simon slipped further and further away. I had just one goal, and that was to get Simon to the Labs.

  “Josie.”

  Shaking my head, I swallowed. “No, Simon. don’t make me do this. I can’t.”

  “Josie.”

  “Dammit! I said, no—just forget it. I’m not your errand girl.”

  “Josie, you’re beeping.”

  “What?”

  “Jane.”

  “Oh.” Rattled, I pulled out the device and handed it to Simon. We cleared the corridor, and with a sense of relief, navigated around a particularly devastated area. Part of a wall partition had fallen down, blocking most of the passageway. Lights sparked here and there, the walls were charred, but otherwise, all was quiet.

  Another few minutes and we’d be in the Labs. Sensing time passed quickly for Simon, I pressed forward with renewed urgency. Simon was distant and moody, but he focused on Jane. He shivered as well, like death drew very close and he was ready to accept it, embrace it, with gratitude.

  I dug my heels in and practically sprinted the rest of the way.

  * * *

  Ho fired; it missed John by inches, the compressed air plowing past his chest. Angered, John returned fire but found only an empty space as his target.

  Like a trapped wild animal, Ho movements were erratic. They’d already run around the mainframe twice, dodging and hiding, seeking and pursuing.

  John, like a feral wolf, kept his head low, his scent trained on Ho. It impressed him how fast his prey moved. Margeaux had been right: Ho was very skilled. John was even impressed with Mwenye. Decades on the space station hadn’t dulled the governor’s abilities.

  When he’d seen Josie fall in the explosion, his heart had almost stopped. But when she’d risen without a scratch, relief had washed over him, despite knowing Parker was mortally wounded. At the pain of that, blind anger surged through him, spurring him forward, eager to sink his hands into Ho and squeeze the life out of him.

  “It’s too late,” Mwenye called out to Ho. Mwenye was crouched low near John, beside a length of consoles. “I’ve transferred commands from here. I’m no longer in control of the droids.”

  Ho laughed. “You would say anything to save yourself. So, if you don’t have control, who does?”

  “My assistant.”

  “And where might this assistant be?” Disbelief rang in Ho’s voice. “Stop playing games. You and I both know that it can’t be done. The commands are locked in to the mainframe. To transfer that information would take time. You could not have done that just now, so quickly.”

  “But I did.”

  “Lies! Who is your assistant?”

  “She is safe.”

  “She?”

  John glared hard at Mwenye, hoping the governor could read his thoughts. Just what was Mwenye up to? Telling Ho the information was now with Jane would lead him straight to Josie. And that was something he would not allow.

  John’s communicator beeped. He snatched it out—saw Simon grinning despite the death mask he wore.

  “We’re back in business,” Simon said. “Just got word from Sandvik.”

  Keeping his voice low, John nodded. “How far are you?”

  “About to go into surgery. Aline is prepped and ready…” Simon paused, his lips parted as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he nodded then ended the call.

  John stared at the blank screen. His heart jerked in all sorts of directions. He couldn’t afford to think about Simon right now. He had to be comforted by knowing Aline was with him now. And that Josie would goad his friend on, keep him alive, if only to direct a nasty remark at her.

  “You’ve lost command of the control room, Ho.” John kept his tone even, calm; full of the authority and power he’d spent a lifetime perfecting. He stood, unafraid. “Give yourself up. This way, I won’t have to kill you.”

  Ho emerged from behind a charred shelving unit that was peppered with debris and blood from the recent explosion. His dark eyes glittered with anger, his face mottled.

  “It’s you who’ll be killed,” Ho spat. “You have no idea—none at all—of the time I’ve spent in search of this research. You will not stand in my way.”

  “I don’t care.” John saw Mwenye shifting position, circling around to sneak up behind Ho.

  “A lifetime! And I will finish what I’ve started. I’ve not come this far to watch it evaporate before my eyes.”

  “For what? For immortality?”

  “Not immortality! Do not confuse me with my…with Fern.”

  John laughed, wicked and taunting. “Even you cannot stand to call her your grandmother!” He moved a fraction, changing his stance. “If not immortality, then what?”

  “Power! What else is there?” Ho raised his gun as if to emphasize his point. “Power—ultimate power. To perfect the fusion of man and machine will make me the richest and most powerful man in the universe. Do you know how many people will want that? Will want to buy immortality? Thousands! Millions! It’s already there, the technology, the know-how. You have it all, right there,” he jabbed a finger at the consoles, “and you have stamped it down for generations. Why? And Fern—Zara—she only wanted to give it to the world.”

  “Give it? You’re confusing yourself, Ho. Fern wanted it for herself.”

  “She was a genius.”

  “Is that why she experimented on herself, you think? Don’t be foolish, Ho. She was unstable—insane. And why do you think we’ve controlled it? To save people from what it does to them. Look what it did to her! And now, to you.”

  “She was a genius!”

  “Genius?” John snorted. “Maybe. But can’t you see what it did to her? We have laws in place to prevent such things. Look at what she’s done! Cloning herself. My God, she gave birth to herself, and it was an abomination in the truest sense. And you come from that. Can’t you see that it frightened her too? She didn’t try it again. No. She realized the hideous nature of her experiments. Instead she tampered with her own body, making herself machine. A cyborg. Not because she lost a limb or needed a new heart, no, but because she wanted to live forever, to cheat death. And where is she now? Hiding somewhere! Sleeping, cowering
from her own natural fate. Prolonging her life yet again. Is this what you want to sell to people? Unnatural living—life? You can’t cheat people of their deaths. You can prolong it, make them healthy and whole, but everyone has to die someday.”

  “People would kill for a chance to live forever. Can’t you see? I’m giving people a chance. A choice!”

  “For a goddamned price!”

  “This is what Zara…Fern wanted. She saw the bigger picture. She was a genius,” Ho insisted. “You already use some of the basic elements of her work for your cell-fusion technology. She helped create some of the said advancements that make it possible to attain what you have now. How else can your prosthetics fusion be so successful? She’s helped you countless times. And just think how much more, how much better… A new skeletal frame—your body will never deteriorate. And skin. Synthetic skin! She spent her entire life perfecting the fusion of biological skin with synthetics. Did you not see her face? After centuries, how young she looked? Did you not see?”

  “I saw madness.”

  “She was a genius,” Ho repeated with reverence, “and I have her research. All of it.”

  “So why not take it with you and build your own bloody lab? Don’t steal from me.”

  Ho laughed—high, unsteady. Desperate. “Steal? Come now, I am an opportunist. Did Adam not clarify that point to you? He did to me. I saw a chance to create something more, a dream I saw unfold right before my very eyes. I saw this place as an opportunity, where I can utilize the resources already in place. I saw how to make it grow, progress—develop. So I took the chance. You’ll never use it to its full potential and you’ll never allow another to be built while this still exists.”

  “It’s still stealing,” Josie said from the doorway.

  John and Ho snapped their attention to her. She stood, radiating a calm sort of fury, holding her krima in one hand and Margeaux with the other. She’d clearly heard enough to be sickened by it, judging by her sneer of disgust. Beyond her, Kakuta was crouched over Ox, administering first aid to the big guy.