Citizen Pariah (Unreal Universe Book 3)

by Lee

  “By all means, Huey.” Herrig had been trying for days to get Huey to reconsider, trying and failing. Whatever secret project the AI inside a man’s body had been working was something on a truly epic scale; Huey had spent several billion dollars and commandeered every single soldier aboard the Gargan to ensure that the undertaking was completed in record time.

  Obviously whatever Huey had done involved the Quantum Tunnel, which was a definite death sentence from Trinity. Herrig perversely wished it were suddenly ‘olden times’; hundreds of years ago, Trinity used to send out formal notices to people or civilizations It was going to punish, tiny little declarations of It’s will that would send people screaming. With everything that’d been going on in Latelyspace, Herrig figured he could paper his office walls inside two days.

  “Ok. Ok good. Thanks.” Huey smiled. The alterations he’d made to the Tunnel’s operating systems and functionality were the first things he’d truly done as a human being, and he was as proud as a father looking down on a messy, screaming newborn, minus all the mess and screaming.

  The AI resumed. “As you know, we’re at war. Or will be soon. Trinity is super pissed at us. Well, at Garth, but since he’s hanging out in Bravo, we’re all gonna get it. I’m not going to give you numbers or statistics or whatever on what’s coming this way, mostly because I don’t want to see you barf. It’s very undignified for the Chairperson of Latelyspace to upchuck into a potted plant. Realistically, we will win any engagement fought anywhere in this solar system. Trinity no longer has anything that can match our guys one on one, not after Tannhauser’s Gate and It still can’t deploy Enforcers because of Bravo’s interference. Even if Trinity does risk an Enforcer or two, well, we got Fenris and his asshole buddies to run interference.”

  “You aren’t making me feel any better about your imminent departure, sa.”

  “Trust me. In like two minutes we’re going to have a very awkward moment where you try to kiss me.” Huey waved his hands like a stage magician and the hologram displaying their solar system flickered. A faint obsidian shell coruscated into existence, bending backwards from the Quantum Tunnel aperture to cover Latelyspace entirely. “I give to you the very first miniature Cordon ever deployed inside Trinity’s Domain. The machine mind uses similar technology to trap Offworlders inside their own systems, but those shields have their breaking points. The rat bastard AI exerts considerable pressure to keep tech development away from discovering how to override those kinds of shields. Nothing, anywhere, at any time, ever, will deplete these shields unless you or I turn them off.”

  Against all expectations, Herrig did indeed want to kiss Huey. But, as the man had so recently reminded him, he was a Chair, and though he was positive that no one was watching, there were some things you just shouldn’t risk. Photos of him kissing another man –while not at all scandalous or even noteworthy- hitting the ‘LINKs would nevertheless find purchase and grow roots somewhere.

  “This is … this is …”

  Huey nodded rapidly. “Amazing. Awesome. Excellent. Things that rhyme with astounding.”

  “Yes. All those things and more.” Herrig rose and clasped one of Huey’s hands warmly. “You have taken a great burden off my mind, Sa Huey. I cannot thank you enough.”

  The desire to convince Huey to stay hadn’t dissipated in the least, but while Herrig desperately wanted Garth’s best friend to remain and help him deal with the unrevealed threat that he was positive Fenris and the others represented, it was apparent there was little he could do or say at this point that would work.

  Huey buffed his fingernails on his shirt. “No big deal. Boss man could’ve prolly done it in half time, for no money, and figured out a way to recreate an AC/DC song in the process.”

  Herrig turned his attention to the hologram, saying, “Now that this is complete, I know you are in a hurry to leave, but I do have one question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “With the shield emanating from the Tunnel’s aperture and extending backwards across the whole of our space, doesn’t that leave the apparatus itself exposed to attack?” Herrig pointed to the area he was concerned about. “One well placed … Glory missile would turn that thing into glowing embers, no?”

  Huey supressed a wide grin. Herrig. Always underestimating himself. In less time than some military commanders, he’d identified and addressed the one possible weakness in the design, all without hemming and hawing. “Actually, no. The field encompasses the opening as well in a kind of bleeding out effect. It’s not as powerful on its own, but the AI that runs the Tunnel has autonomy to protect itself. Combined with the ability to redirect the flow of power along the skin of the shield to anywhere it needs should, and I really fucking mean should here, should one of the attackers figure out a way to push through the field, it’s impregnable. If anyone is bugnuts crazy enough to start launching missiles in an attempt to destroy the Quantum Tunnel itself … the AI just bolsters the power. Easy.”

  This time, Herrig did laugh. His life had turned into one of those action adventure movies Garth liked to talk about. How strange things had become. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined himself talking to a man who wasn’t a man but an artificial intelligence shoehorned into the cloned body of a man born a thousand years ago. Much less, had his craziest flight of fancy somehow involved such a being, could he have expected that conversation to turn to the creation of a shield powerful enough to cover an entire solar system from harm?

  Or, for that matter, would he have ever fantasised that something as amazing as all that would be considered ‘easy’.

  “Well,” Herrig said as he eased himself back into his chair, “I suppose now all I have to worry about is the running of an entire solar system that is teetering on the edge of collapse.”

  “The God soldier problem is sorting itself out.” Huey reminded Herrig firmly. “As much as we don’t like Fenris and his pals, the methods they’re teaching the soldiers are already paying off. A handful of Twoesies and even a smattering of Onesies are already off the ‘meds’, and without any side effects. Virtually all the Foursies and Threesies have come down off their high horses and are acting like normal fucking people. In a year or two, there won’t be a single Goddie reliant on the supplements. You can’t complain about that.”

  “No, no, no, you’re right.” Herrig murmured, perusing the files related to Huey’s explanation of what the ancient template for God soldiers were doing. The results, albeit preliminary, were encouraging. But he was a forward-thinker these days, and as always, he couldn’t help but wish he could see the future. Healthy and mindful God soldiers today were all well and good, but what would they be tomorrow, if or when Fenris decided he didn’t like how things were going?

  Because when you spoke with Fenris or Solgun or Lokken –the other two were notoriously close-mouthed- you had the feeling they were waiting to betray you.

  “And the food thing is getting sorted as well.” Huey hated reminding Herrig of all the ‘good’ that the Harmony Soldiers were doing for the people of Hospitalis, but there was nothing else he –they- could do but rely on them. With Garth down for the count, the only beings capable of providing large-scale results in the smallest amount of time were them.

  “I know.” Herrig sighed miserably and shoved his glasses up on his forehead so he could rub his watering eyes. “It’s just … it’s just. You made me Chairman. Chairman. There are millions of people who could do this job better than me, Huey. And without your knowledge, your … wisdom, they’ll wind up taking the prote and setting themselves up as king.”

  “Never happen.” Huey shook his head firmly on that. “That thing is keyed to you and you alone. You can’t pass it along, they can’t take it, they can’t hack it. The defense and offense mechanisms for it and the Sigma Machine are fully online now. You are being watched day in and day out by a machine that has been ordered to make sure you are safe. It can and will provide you the answers you need. It can’t act on the data that it gener
ates. That is for you to decide. But it can enforce those decisions, quite easily. You, Herrig DuPont, are in total control. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  Herrig gazed warily at a list of requests from ex-heads of state, ministers and mayors that’d floated onto his Screens. They were demanding they have a chance to meet with him. “My head, sa, would rather be on a pillow. Do you know, I still haven’t been to my house in Northon?”

  “Shift the powerbase from Central to a charming little split-level overlooking the beach, then.” Huey quipped. “Change of scenery might do those assholes some good.”

  Fleetingly, Herrig imagined just that. Forcing men like Petros Vasco to sit and wait in the tiny foyer of his beach front property… he burst into laughter. Huey joined in for a few seconds before turning somber.

  “I hate to leave, but you know there’s nothing more important than getting Garth out.” Huey said this from the door, leaning on the door frame.

  Herrig sighed again and nodded. Regardless of what so many had said, regardless of the burden of proof that pointed to a specific truth, Herrig had a million doubts about Garth’s claims that the world … the universe … they lived in was false. At what point when falsehood felt so real that it had to be real did it stop mattering?

  As far as greater men like Garth and Fenris were concerned, it never did stop. It just went on mattering that what they were experiencing right now wasn’t.

  The bizarre combination of idealism and nihilism present in the Harmony Soldiers when they thought no one was looking –or when they didn’t care who saw- was horrifying. They’d been remade to help a fledgling Latelian Regime solidify its power base, but instead they’d risen and sworn themselves to the unraveling of everything that’d ever been and ever would be, and approached that coming storm of destruction with the mentality of dark midwives. Their eagerness to unmake everything was daunting and frankly disturbing.

  Whether they intended it or not, sooner or later, that mood would affect the soldiers, and from the soldiers, it would infest the population. Trillions of Latelians, all preaching the same thing. The … how had he heard it? The Falling Dark and the Rising Light? Something like that. Either way, it was unnerving. When his people started talking like their soldiers, it would be too late.

  Herrig pasted as real a smile as he could muster on his face and waved Huey out saying, “I know that it is, Huey. We need Garth more than ever. We need him soon. Good luck, sa. Good luck.”

  Chairman DuPont watched Huey leave.

  What, he wondered, would happen to the lustily curious population of Latelyspace when they thought as the Harmony soldiers did? In what way would their newfound rush to the end manifest itself?

  The First Engine was spitting out some truly abysmal possibilities and Herrig prayed Huey was successful before even the smallest of those chances rose to the light of day.

  Herrig pushed a comm button. “Si Demaynesfeld, if you could send my two o’clock in now?”

  Here

  "Look, all I is askin' is why is she so damn important, is wot." Chad was leaning against a wall across from one of his favorite nudie bars, smoking a cigarette and eyeing the crowd. He was none too pleased at being yanked out of the bar by the weird fella-me-lad in front of him, but as it was all too likely that same odd duck would've killed everyone in the bar so they could chat in private, Chad allowed as how he was okay with the temporary change of venue. "I mean, really, mate. You is askin' me to take a wander up to the very heights, yeah? Hisself in't all the pleased wiv 'ow events shook out, yeah? Like, if I is seen on camera whilst I am up there doin' this 'little job' for you, it's all too likely he'll start trying to blow me up. An’ I is certain I is bein’ seen. This ain’t no simple snatch and grab you is askin’ for, now, is it?”"

  Ohm239 twitched as someone thirty feet away started moving; he could feel the man's future destination curling through the eddies of the now, and his skin itched at the realization that there would be less than five feet between them in a few minutes. He loathed being out in public. Every man, woman and child in this accursed Unreality was a bane, a scourge. They were literally living lies, a testament to how truly broken everything was, and worse, a constant, continual reminder of how awful everything was.

  And the phenomenally scarred mess of psychoses and nearly limitless power leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette and still talking to himself was their only hope.

  Ohm239 shook his head. None of them could believe how tragically their plans had turned.

  It'd taken torturous effort to free the CyberPriest that'd merged with Chadsik's psyche, and there was no telling if the poor soul would recover. They'd only just managed get the cyborg assassin to stop referring to himself as 'themself', and there was still so much work to get done.

  Regardless of the promise Chadsik al-Taryin had made in exchange for surviving his final encounter with Garth N'Chalez and a return to Ground Zero, the damnable assassin was showing –and would likely never show- any interest in helping them with their goals. Without Chad and his impossible collection of never-were intellects and might've-been memories, there was simply no way they could defeat the M'Zahdi Hesh harbinger. Unless things changed drastically, they were never going to be able to coerce Chadsik into doing what was necessary of his own free will.

  To that end, they were going to undertake a perilous risk.

  Naoko Kamagana was the greatest hacker in the universe. She was on her way to Jordan Bishop, where, if she wasn't kidnapped, she would begin the process of creating an artificial intelligence equal to, if not greater than, Trinity Itself. If that happened, the Dark Age Cabal could very well wrest the seat of power for themselves. Humans. Broken. Insufferable. Egomaniacal and power mad humans in charge of Reality. A revolting concept in every possible way, the notion made all CyberPriests sick to their electronic guts.

  Ohm239 shuddered. He ignored Chad's sullen muttering. Naturally, the assassin hadn't considered why the CyberPriests would need a hacker with Naoko's skills.

  "Oy, twatface, I is talkin'." Chad slapped the 'Priest upside the head, then grinned as ripples and echoes of the most ancient cyborg's ire rippled outwards to smack the wandering Ground Zero denizen right in the forehead. The man blinked and abruptly decided to take a different path to whichever slum he called ‘home’.

  Ohm239 closed his eyes and thought for a long moment. “We require Naoko Kamagana. Her skills are needed.”

  Chad twitches th… his lips back and forth. It were obvious that the cyborg priest was lying. But about what? The assassin figured it had something to do with the state of their being, and found it hilarious that over the thirty thousand years or so that the CyberPriests had been knockin’ around the universe, they’d never managed to ‘figure themselves out’, as it were.

  Chad only knew about Naoko Kamagana in the most peripheral of ways, having been focused solely on killing the damnable Garth Nickels. He knew she was a talented hacker, had a solid grasp on mechanical engineering and was a genuine whizz-bang genius when it came to the weird tech that existed in Latelyspace and nowhere else, but that was it. She’d been a pretty backdrop, if you like tall, gangly women.

  It bothered th… him that he couldn’t figure out what the ‘Priests needed the woman so badly they were willing to risk outright and open confrontation with the high and mighty Lord Jordan Bishop Hisself. It was extremely unlikely that any of them would suffer death or even embarrassment in kidnapping the chit from under Spur’s nose; they’d survived thirty thousand years of strife and were, as far as Chad could tell, actually properly immortal.

  No, if Chad were honest with them… himself, yes, himself, he was more worried about what the Trinity AI would do when it got wind of the ‘Priests being openly active. From what he understood from the totally fucked and bizarre son of a bitching bastard Kant –a CyberPriest kidnapped and brainwashed by Trinity, for the love of God-, Trinity imagined there were no more ‘Priests out there at all.

  The truth was far and aw
ay from that. Every ‘Priest created by the Armies of Man so long ago still existed. They were few in numbers, and their powers and abilities were fueled by an incomplete understanding of the Music of the Spheres. Incomplete or not, they were powerful all the same.

  Chad thought the concept of the Spheres was well and truly hogwash, but wotever he thought didn’t matter; the hoary old electronic bastards had been doing as they had been for a ridiculously long time. Getting them to rethink their life choices now was well and truly impossible and Chad had better things to do besides.

  Once Trinity saw the Baker’s dozen running around like goons, all of Zanzibar was going to be absolutely rotten with Enforcers. Poncing around in their space armor, looking handsome and ridiculously poised, laying about with some of the most advanced and dangerous weaponry this side of the Unreality. Chad had a particular loathing for Enforcers. Always had, always would. Them with their Suits. Poncy twats.

  Ohm239 twitched again. Whenever Chadsik al-Taryin started thinking deep thoughts around one of the brotherhood, the environment around them, unseen and unfelt by all but the most sensitive flesh-and-blood beings in the Unreality, went utterly still. The silence was deafening when that happened, and those ‘Priests who’d experienced it felt uncomfortable for days after.

  “We need her. You need her.” Ohm239 reiterated. “Therefore, you will acquire her.”

  “Orl right, my son.” Chad rolled his head languidly about his neck. “We … I was only askin’. You and yours is goin’ ter find yourselves under a lot of scrutiny, is all. Whether Jordan gets ‘is ‘ead outta wotever sack of cats ‘e’s tucked it inside or not, there is still Spur you is ‘avin’ ter deal wiv, yeah? I is ‘avin it on solid authority that ‘e won’t let this wee kidnapping slide, no matter wot ‘is boss finks.”