Shades

by Eric Dallaire

“The roof, though I suspect he's already long gone,” I replied. “Still, it wouldn't hurt to take a look around.” Instead of an answer, Barnaby made an interrupted gasping sound.

  “On the contrary,” hissed a female voice. “Your curiosity will hurt quite a bit.”

  I turned and looked down to see a woman dressed in a black and maroon jumpsuit with a reflective sheen. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulders. My eyes darted from Barnaby’s angry expression, to her smug face, and down to the curved blade she held at his throat.

  “Don’t move, Director. I wouldn’t want you to get nicked. Where is your friend, the third spy?” she demanded.

  “Let’s see…you have the ability to drop in unnoticed onto two trained agents, you wield a ceremonial sica knife, and you have a penchant for black,” muttered Barnaby in a measured tone. “Jonah, meet Shoshana Rabin.”

  A fleeting, surprised expression flickered across her face, replaced by an impish grin. I dropped down from the ladder, retrieved my stun-rod, and activated it just as I reached the ground. This show of dexterity would unnerve a common thug, but the woman looked underwhelmed. With the blue light of my weapon pushing away more of the alley's shadows, I spotted an ankle-high motion sensor that one of us had tripped. This mistake must have summoned the nice lady with a knife at my partner’s neck.

  Her free hand groped Barnaby’s shirt and pants, and then it started raining spy gadgets. With nimble fingers, she deactivated each weapon before sending them clattering to the ground, including a side revolver, vibro-knife, a paralytic syringe, and a hidden stun-tube in a pants pocket. However, she held onto a small pistol.

  With one smooth motion, she shoved Barnaby to the ground, and aimed the gun at him. Then she looked to me and raised her curved dagger as a challenge. Despite feeling unnerved, I held my ground, though the practical side of my brain argued the virtues of fleeing.

  “All of the local v-cast generators are locked out, so I am unable to manifest,” Sasha said with a tone of concern. “I will continue my attempts to break the security seal. Jonah, please try not to end up in the hospital again, or I will require additional memory to calculate your hospital bills.” A brief smirk creased my lips, and then disappeared while I appraised the woman standing before me. Her balanced stance suggested martial arts training. Everything about her style, countenance, and manner hinted at advanced field training. For instance, she executed a Krav Maga takedown maneuver on Barnaby, a favorite combat discipline employed by the Israeli army. We just encountered the real security guard.

  “She's also known as the Black Rose,” Barnaby added, rising to a kneeling position with his arms raised in submission. “AKA the Black Lily, AKA Black Rose, or just Rose. Her dossier indicated she had died in action as a Mossad agent. Clearly that report is inaccurate. I’m a big admirer of your work, especially your mission in Moscow. Jonah, I think it would be best if you drop your weapon before she kills you.”

  “So, you’ve heard of me,” Rose acknowledged. “Which means you’re connected and have half a brain. Now tell me, who was the third man hacking into our network?”

  “I am 92% through the security defense,” Sasha whispered. “I recommend a stalling tactic.”

  “No, we tried to stop that other man,” I replied. “Why don't you allow my associate to stand up and we can chat about this?” I said, taking a step forward with my weapon lowered.

  “I think you should stop--” suggested Barnaby before Rose cut him off. She tapped her own maroon-colored wrist-com device, granting her access to the nearby v-cast generator. She invoked a simple, low-level imprisonment echelon. The v-cast generator complied with a tinny whine, creating iron-binding chains that tightened around Barnaby’s legs, arms, and mouth.

  He tried to speak through the chains, likely to warn me, but his glowing bonds allowed him only a muffled grunt.

  With startling speed, Rose closed the distance between us and slashed at me with her keen knife. My stun-rod became a shield to parry her swift attacks. She pirouetted and her sica blade sliced through the air and caught the center of my stun-rod. With a twisting motion, she pried my weapon out of my grasp and sent it flying to the other side of the alley. She twirled again and raised the pommel of her blade over my head.

  “I am in the network,” said a welcome voice in my ear. Just as Rose's knife descended, Sasha materialized with a flash of deep blue coalescing light. Inches above my head, she caught Rose's hand before the blunt hilt of her weapon struck me. “You do not strike him,” Sasha warned. Her grip on Rose started failing as soon as she made contact.

  “I strike when I want,” Rose snapped back. Then she unleashed a brutal flurry of kicks and punches against Sasha's new virtual form.

  Sasha managed to block the first two kicks, but the second barrage proved too overwhelming. Knocked back into the wall by the ferocity of the attack, even Sasha's heightened reflexes missed the final stroke of the sica knife. As the blade sunk into her semi-solid form, bright blue light spurted from her chest. The high-pitched whine of the local v-cast generator's matter reclamation cut off Sasha’s brief scream.

  “Your girlfriend is breaking up with you,” Rose quipped.

  Sasha's distraction earned me enough time to access the security hole she opened in the local v-cast network. My wrist-com panel illuminated and my fingers evoked a shatter-hack that dissolved Barnaby's bonds. As Sasha's form exploded into brilliant sparkles and fragments of floating proto-matter, Rose spun around to face me with an expression of anger.

  My fingers danced against my console, ordering the v-cast to gather up the proto-matter from Sasha's body. The particles whisked toward me and they reassembled into a thin steel rapier gleaming in my hand. Though Rose outmatched me, I brandished the sword with defiance. Barnaby stood up, his yellow wrist-com blazing to life, summoning a massive battle-axe to his hands. Emboldened by improved odds, we advanced on Rose.

  “This has been fun, boys,” Rose purred, “but it's time for you to see my employer.” She exploded into action, sweeping and spinning toward us like a tornado. I felt her knife strike my virtual rapier and by the time I steadied it she moved away to swipe at Barnaby. She kept the two of us off balance long enough until a loud mechanical grinding noise filled the alley.

  “Surrender,” boomed a man’s modulated voice through a speaker. I turned sideways to keep Rose in view and see the newcomer. An ogre guard took a thundering step closer, with its metal arms raised against me, each containing a deadly micro-missile launcher. Behind the metal hulk, another armored guard joined the fray. It was time to surrender.

  “Check,” I sighed. My rapier and Barnaby’s axe fell from our hands, disintegrating into photonic ash.

  “But perhaps not yet checkmate,” Sasha whispered. “I will keep my toe dipped in their network.”

  “Now let's explore creative ways of making you both talk,” Rose said, grabbing me. She drummed her fingers playfully on my shoulder, then pushed me toward the entrance of Titan Tech’s Headquarters.

  * * *

  After passing through the guarded entrance, we entered an interior that was reminiscent of a fortified bunker. Like the foyer of a modern day castle, two rows of suits of armor flanked the long marble floor hall. However, these blue-and-white-colored titanium wardens proved to be more than just metal guards, as Sasha explained to me.

  “Titan Tech first launched the Power Knight robot line fifteen years ago,” Sasha said as I walked through the gauntlet. The ten-foot-tall metal frames looked imposing enough. When I saw that each of the twenty-four knights clutched four-foot-long electrical scimitars, I knew that I needed to behave. “They were used as combat models, specialized for sentry duty. It appears most of these units are deactivated, except for the last two at the end of the hall.”

  Behind the robots, a floating holographic display played a looping promotional video regaling the once-proud history of Titan Technologies Corporation. After showing the evolution of its robot models
, it touted the first patented AI system, the ill-fated 'Prometheus' model. The monitor showed the time before the shades, when Titan Tech dominated the non-human work force industry with its artificial beings. The first one thousand Prometheus androids built the base of Lunar Spire, mined the first asteroids, and explored the surface of Venus. As we continued walking down the hall, another monitor cycled through images of technology patents for artificial neurons and synapses. The whole gallery impressed me. Before I joined the military, I hoped to get a job at Titan Tech as a programmer. That all changed twenty years ago when the Sentience War claimed one hundred and thirty human lives on the remote Callisto outpost.

  “Tell me where you are taking us,” Barnaby demanded. “I would like to--”

  Before Barnaby finished his request, the metal-studded double doors ahead of us parted, revealing a spacious conference room draped with luxury. Plush brown leather chairs ringed a spherical table shining with polished digital glass. Above the room's center, two golden chandeliers adorned with looping diamond chains cast white and orange lights across the room. Three men at the table stared at mini-displays on the glass table, each mini-window showing a different scene around the Titan complex, including the front door and the exterior alley.

  Rose pushed us closer toward the table. As we approached, I saw two larger shapes in the back of the room covered in shadows. The telltale yellow glows from the central power cores of two ogre battle suits betrayed the positions of the two rear guards. The three men at the table looked up. Undaunted, Barnaby cleared his throat and addressed our captors.

  “I'm Director Barnaby of the Incorporeal Revenue Service and I'd like to speak to the United States Ambassador immediately,” Barnaby demanded. “The Lunar Senate would not appreciate my detainment.”

  “Yes, Barnaby, I will mention your grievance next time I am in the Senate,” responded the man on the far left. I recognized him as Ambassador Ephraim Shoval, the same person who v-casted into my apartment a week ago to talk with Vanessa. Ephraim loosened his black tie and undid the top button of his white shirt. His cheeks reddened from irritation and he raised his left arm to point for emphasis. “Perhaps they would be interested in hearing why such a high-ranking US agent attempted to break into a lawful corporation and ally of the state of Israel? I don't think you understand the gravity of your position--”

  “Now, Ephraim, let's not be rash,” rasped the withered man sitting next to the Israeli ambassador. Dressed in an impeccable blue suit with a black tie, the man looked well over a hundred years old. A neatly trimmed, snow-colored beard covered his cheeks and chin. I recognized him from news vid-reports as David Solomon, the venerable CEO of Titan Technologies. Growing up as a teenager, I loved watching movies about giant robots and monsters. Computers, cybernetics, technology; all represented the pinnacle of human achievements to my inquisitive mind. During my college years, I idolized Solomon. Back then, he had made revolutionary contributions to scalable cybernetics and synthetic heuristics. “We should treat our visitors as guests,” he continued. “Please, sit down. Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce everyone. My name is David Solomon, and sitting to my right is Ambassador Shoval, and to my left is my son Eli.”

  I knew Eli Solomon by reputation only. The oldest scion and heir to David's company and fortune, Eli studied business and law instead of science. David and Eli struck me as identical twins thirty years removed. While David sat enfeebled by old age, Eli projected the strength and sharpness of a man in his prime. He styled his beard like his father, though his hair showed much more black than gray.

  “I see that you both have made the acquaintance of Shoshana,” Eli said, grinning. He gestured toward empty chairs while Rose escorted us to the seats. Barnaby sat first and then I took the seat next to him across the table from the Solomons. “So we know the name of the IRS agent.” His lip curled with mild disdain when he motioned toward Barnaby. “But who are you?” he asked, pointing to me.

  “Jonah Adams,” I replied.

  Eli and David Solomon raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other. Rose edged closer behind me with her hand on the sica dagger’s handle.

  “How is this possible?” David asked in a wheezing voice. “Rose, you reported that he died…” The old patriarch looked frail and the effort of talking caused a brief coughing fit.

  “Yes, sir, that is what we learned through the datanet,” Rose answered with confidence. “I confirmed the death certificate myself.”

  “Some of my finest work,” Barnaby mumbled.

  “Perhaps an imposter then?” asked Rose.

  “Or a convincing synthetic…” David added with a look of excitement, prompting Eli to jab at the glass display in front of him, evoking a stream of data.

  “No. He passed our magnetic body scanner at the front gate, and he’s organic. However…” Eli paused to double check a specific section of data related to Jonah's physiology. “Some of his vital signs are abnormal…”

  “Machines, you can't always trust them,” David said, chuckling. His son smiled and touched his father on the shoulder with affection. “Why don't we rely on a more natural test, eh?”

  “Uncle David, are you sure?” asked Rose.

  “Yes, dear. With your blade, I’d feel safe even if we had five hungry lions in the room. Please bring in our other guest.” David motioned and the ogre guard behind him stepped aside, showing a hairline crack in the blue wall. It was another secret door.

  As the wall parted, yellow light from the hidden room showed the silhouette of a woman. Within that freeze-frame of a moment, when golden light suffused her feminine outline, I let my imagination entertain the distant hope that Vanessa would walk into the room.

  “Jonah?” asked a familiar voice. “I…I heard…that you died?” The woman stepped forward. Not trusting the first glance, I rubbed my eyes and studied the newcomer. Her reddish hair rested on slender shoulders, ending with thick curls. Light freckles dotted her fair skin. Hazel eyes sparkled, moistened by tears. It was the beautiful, crooked, deep-dimpled smile that told me to believe my senses.

  “I wouldn't let a thing like death stop me from finding you.” I stood up, brushing aside Rose’s firm grip on my shoulder. The red-haired woman ran toward me, but Rose stepped between us.

  “Is it Jonah?” Rose asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Vanessa replied with a smile. She placed a gentle hand on her protective guardian. Rose nodded and stepped back, but stood close enough to unleash a savage strike if she desired.

  Vanessa leaned down to my face. Her red hair fell across my forehead and my shoulders. I smelled the sweet orchids of her favorite perfume. Then her hand caressed my left cheek and her lips touched my own. We kissed deeply. For the first time in many days I dropped my guard, relaxed, and allowed myself to feel joy. I tasted her salty tear as it trickled to my lips. Despite the specter of Rose’s retribution, I risked raising my arms to touch her face and stroke her hair. Everything I wanted, the perfect companion, trembled ever so slightly within my arms. The optimistic part of my brain wished to believe that this long journey just ended. She pulled back from the kiss and smiled at me, still touching my cheek.

  “Thank god you’re okay,” I whispered. “Did they hurt you? So help me, if they harmed you in any--”

  “You insult us!” Eli protested, standing up. “She has been well provided for.” The elder Solomon restrained his red-faced son with a gentle tug back into his chair. David whispered into Eli's ear and the younger scion calmed.

  “It’s true!” Vanessa agreed. “They’ve taken good care of me, Jonah. They’ve protected me, and treated me like family.”

  “Protected you?” I asked with unconcealed suspicion. “I saw the apartment, it looked like they kidnapped you! I came to save you!” That last statement brought frowns throughout the room.

  “She's not a princess from one of your video games that needs saving,” scolded Rose. “We didn’t kidnap her--” />
  “Of course not,” interrupted David Solomon. “I understand you are confused, Jonah. Allow me to shed some light. When Vanessa took the case to help my dear cousin Saul, we considered her a mensch, and part of our extended family. Then we promised to help her in any way we could...”

  “The trouble came from another case I was working on,” Vanessa continued. The threads started to stitch together for me.

  “Dr. Okono…he came to you a week before,” I added.

  “Yes,” she replied. “He made a breakthrough in his research. When he realized the significance of what he found, he felt his life was in danger. When my own brother…threatened me, I knew my life was in danger too.”

  “We noticed some unusual queries circulating in the datanet about Vanessa,” David continued. “As a safeguard, I assigned Rose to keep an eye on her after we heard you were leaving for your…work in Louisiana.” At the mention of the collection job, the Ambassador, Eli, and Rose all glanced at each other with looks of distaste. Not surprising, since the Israelis opposed the existence and exploitation of shades. “Our intervention was timely. Hours after you returned to New York, one of our trusted informants reported disturbing news. A sizable contract circulated in the darkweb ordering the capture or execution of Vanessa.”

  “When we learned about the contract, I went immediately to the apartment to evacuate Vanessa,” said Rose. “Spenner arrived only minutes after we left. He must have ransacked the apartment looking for traces of her.”

  “I’m sorry, Jonah,” Vanessa said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t have time to say goodbye. They said I couldn’t contact you for my own safety. Then I heard…you had died…”

  “Kiss her again. Tell her it's okay,” Sasha urged in the faintest of whispers, so soft I don’t think she intended for me to hear.

  “You don’t ever have to apologize to me,” I said, wiping her tears away. I kissed her again, longer this time. For that wonderful span of time, we forgot that others occupied the room. In that kiss, we shared a special message and a promise to each other. “It's all okay now, love.”