Shades

by Eric Dallaire

  “A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear,” Sasha said, even quieter this time. It took me a second to recall the Cyrano de Bergerac quote. Then the room erupted with her voice.

  “A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear,” boomed her loud echo. Vanessa pulled away from our embrace. Everyone in the room appeared confused except for David Solomon.

  “Sir, I didn’t do that,” said Sasha, mortified. “He must have used well-concealed hypersensitive listening devices--”

  “Don’t fret my dear,” David said, a smile wrinkling his face. “I’ve been waiting to meet you. Please, feel free to manifest. You may use our v-cast generators.” David's gnarled hand moved over the glass table, removing the security lock-out.

  The high-pitched whine of the v-cast generator announced the arrival of Sasha to the gathering. This time, she chose to manifest with the white dress, given to her by the White Djinn. The flowing fabric covered her light-blue-tinged legs to her ankles and her arms to her elbows. In her flowing dark blue hair, Sasha shaped her omni-flower as a pink orchid. Struck by her beauty, David let out an audible gasp and put his hand to his mouth too late to cover it.

  “Greetings, everyone,” Sasha said with a slight bow.

  “Wonderful,” David gushed. “I am so pleased to meet you, Sasha. I have heard much about you, but those reports pale to describe how special you really are. Jonah, you must be so proud.” His eyes gleamed with excitement, like a child given an early birthday present. I sensed true admiration and appreciation in the man’s face. He looked at me with his gray eyes and a youthful grin that defied his aged body. “Perhaps, when you are ready for a new career, you would consider working for Titan? What do you think, Eli?”

  “As it happens, we are looking for a new Project Leader in R&D,” Eli replied with a nod.

  Barnaby stood up from his chair, ignoring a cold look from Rose, and patted me on the back. “While I’m happy to see this couple reunited, we have another crucial matter to discuss,” Barnaby said. “We need to find Dr. Okono immediately. We fear he’s in danger and that his research will fall into the wrong hands. Do you know where he is?”

  “We suspect Goliath Corporation has detained your doctor,” David answered, his jovial expression replaced with a serious one. “Our agent in the Lunar Spire believes Gabriel Charon himself moved Okono to a secure location. His company and family have been a thorn in my side for many years.” Eli's eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed at the mention of their rival. “It would make good business sense, and it would be my pleasure, to help in any way I can.”

  “If Goliath Corp is holding the doctor, he will be tough to find,” Barnaby said. “They own many factories, mines, labs, and stations around the moon. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

  “I lost contact with L’iol days ago,” Vanessa replied. “The last message he sent to our secure communication line was encrypted. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to decipher it.” She waved her hand over the table to play the message. At first, I heard only digital noise, garbled nonsense, and crackling static. Then the sounds melded together into a familiar humming sound. A prickling sensation came over me and the ShadeOS activated within me. This time, a rectangular interface element floated over the corner of my right eye. It showed an analysis of the audio’s waveforms, drawing the sinusoidal peaks and valleys like the readout of a digital heart monitor. Then the noises became a clear voice and the geometric lines reformed into letters and words over my vision.

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  “Purgatory,” I muttered.

  “What did you say?” asked Barnaby.

  “Still alive. In purgatory. That’s the message Dr. Okono sent. He sent it through the TauK Network. The only people capable of understanding that message are the ones that know his research and shades,” I explained. “In fact, one of the shades the doctor was studying at his lab said that message as well. Sasha, isn’t Purgatory another word for hell?”

  “More accurately, it is a theological concept describing a tortuous plane of existence in-between Earth and the afterlife,” Sasha corrected. “A place where souls not ready for heaven are burned to cleanse their sins.”

  “Wait, shades? You can understand this message?” the elder Solomon whispered. “You can speak with the dead, how is this--”

  “Jonah's status is classified,” Barnaby interrupted.

  “Purgatory,” Eli whispered. “Perdition. Hell.” Eli looked to David with a grave expression on his face. “He speaks of Gehenna. All of those poor souls. Dear God…father, you were right all along. How could we not have known this?”

  Vanessa looked away, the weight of her secret burden causing her pain.

  “No one holds you responsible for honoring your vows, dear,” David said consoling her. “She did not tell us the details of Dr. Okono’s research, much to her credit. She honored her vow of confidentiality. However, we are fairly sure we know what my people, what the Israeli government, has suspected for the past twenty years.”

  “And what is that, Mr. Solomon?” Barnaby asked

  “That the shades are alive,” David rasped. “That they toil and suffer in their own private Gehenna, and monsters like Gabriel Charon, who profit from the shades, do not want people to know.”

  “Allegedly alive,” Barnaby countered with a raised finger. “We have yet to validate this assumption. All of our scientists and religious leaders have confirmed that shades possess no soul. With all of the science at their disposal, how is it possible that--”

  “It's possible that Dr. Okono found a new scientific way to listen to the soul,” David suggested. “Whether or not we have the same reasons, we can both agree that Dr. Okono must be removed from Charon's stronghold.”

  “Yes, that is our mission,” Barnaby agreed. “Jonah and I must be resuming that soon--”

  “But here, on the moon, your US government no longer wields the influence it once did,” Eli added. His keen gray eyes glittered, sensing an opportunity. “We have common goals here, Director Barnaby, and we can offer our aid…”

  “What can you offer and what do you expect in return?” Barnaby asked, frowning.

  “Our motives are transparent, Director,” David responded, his arms spread as a gesture of trust. “We believe all of the shades need to be freed, or laid to rest. They are unnatural, and worse, they suffer.”

  “This is not an easy thing to prove, and not an easy thing to undo,” Barnaby cautioned. “You cannot imagine how much depends on shade labor. Everything connects to it. Corporations and colonies will scream about their dependence--”

  “Yes, but Titan Technologies stands ready to fill that gap,” Eli said, grinning. “Our next generation androids are affordable, strong, scalable...”

  “...and safe,” added David, slapping his hand on the table for emphasis. “If the United Nations would suspend, or even relax the Promethean Laws, we could have a more humane labor force. Sasha is a shining example for the future of artificial labor--”

  David, Eli, and Barnaby argued and negotiated back and forth. I listened for a few moments but my thoughts turned inward. The Solomon family’s interest in helping made sense to me now. Their strong Hebrew faith played a part in their opposition to the shade-trade, though there was an economic angle as well. I realized in this world, no white knights galloped to the rescue. Everyone wanted to earn a buck. A great game of chess played out across two worlds and I still needed to figure out whether my piece should move forward, diagonally, or laterally. No matter what, I would protect my queen. In order to be with Vanessa, I had to complete the mission and pay off my debt to Barnaby. So I focused my thoughts again, playing back the message from Dr. Okono. The words echoed in my head. In purgatory, a possible metaphoric reference to an afterlife of suffering. The idea to consider different meanings came to mind. A memory
nagged at me. The answer hovered on the periphery of my brain, like a distant light hovering behind a haze of fog. Before I reasoned out the puzzle, a movement at the far end of the room pulled me back from my deep contemplation. At first, I thought the person inside the ogre battle-suit meant to stretch. However, when I saw the glimmer of yellow from the armored arm, I knew it intended to do harm.

  Sasha detected my access to the wrist-com first, her gaze looking to me and then to the ogre guard. The suit took a step forward and the shining arm took aim at David Solomon, horrifying the helpless pilot inside.

  “S-sir, Mr. Solomon, I can’t control the ogre,” cried the guard.

  My wrist-com blazed, and my fingers wove a ward echelon. The local v-cast generator complied, manifesting a floating triangular-shaped shield. With a flick, I flung it forward and bashed the ogre. The impact nudged its metal arm, sending an off-course energy blast burning through the ceiling above.

  Sasha and Rose reacted with swiftness. Rose drew her blade and leaped onto the table, flipped to the other side of the room, and landed in front of the ogre. Realizing that an innocent person wore the suit, Rose sliced at the exposed weapon systems intending to disarm it. With four quick slashes, the missile guidance system and the mounted-plasma cannon fell to the ground. Sasha took advantage of Rose’s assault to move David and Eli away from the combat.

  “Come with me, sirs,” Sasha urged. Eli and Sasha escorted the elder Solomon to the far side of the room.

  The noise of metal striking metal resonated through the room followed by a heavy thud. Rose’s surgical strikes to the robotic suit's hydraulic leg pumps sent it crashing to the floor.

  “Why did the suit malfunction?” Eli yelled from across the room. “What happened?”

  “I don’t think that was a malfunction,” I replied. “Everyone, be ready.”

  The battlesuit started to smoke from the damage Rose inflicted on it. Then the vapors formed a horrific looking apparition. Gathering the rising smoke around itself, the ghost-creature sprouted bony wings. Its viral code burrowed into the v-cast generator, ordering it to give it more substance. Red smoke and vapor coalesced around it, forming the visage of a monstrous specter with a bloody skeletal face.

  “Holy hell, it’s a dybbuk virus!” shouted Barnaby.

  After Barnaby’s words, the creature looked for a new mechanized target, leaving wispy trails of smoke behind as it moved. Its eyes, floating motes of energy, glittered with a crimson color. Spenner must have planted a Crimson Gate virus into Titan’s network when he accessed the alleyway terminal. The dybbuk was a relic leftover from one of the past three vicious cyber-wars. Years ago, some young programmer followed orders and coded this wicked virus to inflict harm on a forgotten enemy. When that war ended, the military buried those cyber weapons in the Crimson Gate virtual construct. Like a grave robber, or a necromancer, Spenner had raised this horror from its tomb and unleashed it against us.

  “It will jump to another machine. Be ready,” Barnaby cautioned. As he predicted, the wraith beat its large wings and flew into the mechanical body of a nearby powered-knight. The automaton stood silent over David and Eli until a hollow metallic groan announced its awakening. The two Solomons looked petrified when the metal statue took a step toward them. Energized by the dybbuk virus program, the knight’s massive black fists raised into the air.

  “The neck…weakest spot in the armor,” David gasped.

  Sasha pushed David away while Rose made three leaps across the room to intercept the ten-foot-tall robot. My hand gestured, and wove a duplication echelon. Using the cameras inside the room, I copied the likeness of David Solomon and fed them back into my program. The local v-cast generator whined and used its proto-matter to create a realistic facsimile of David Solomon.

  My ruse worked as the powered-knight’s helm turned toward the virtual clone. With its target acquired, the possessed suit attacked. The mighty fists smashed through the fake body, creating an explosion of glittering proto-matter. Realizing the deception, the dybbuk pivoted its host robot toward Eli Solomon. By the time its armored boot took a step, Rose engaged it with a vicious flurry of blade strikes, cutting its power conduits. She pushed off the nearby table, leaped onto the protruding chest of the robot itself, and plunged her dagger into its neck. Sparks flew and brackish oil spilled out from the crippled guardian as Rose flipped away. Looking around, I noticed that this opulent executive room contained seven more black powered-knights and another ogre guard. There were plenty of targets for the dybbuk to possess next.

  “Eli, can you lock down access in and out of this room? We don’t want this to get away,” barked Barnaby. His arms waved to coordinate the defense in the brief lull between the dybbuk’s attacks.

  “Y-yes I think so,” Eli said, still looking frazzled. He ran to the glass command table as the winged dybbuk’s ghost reappeared. It screeched and streaked across the room to enter another host body.

  “Jonah and Sasha, try to contain that thing in whatever robot it chooses,” Barnaby ordered. “I may have something to catch it.” As he spoke, his wrist-com shimmered with a verdant hue. The draconic tattoo writhed along his arm, the ink coming to life, and the dragon’s tail wrapped around his wrist and fingers.

  “Affirmative. I am attempting to isolate the virus by deactivating all remote communication ports in the remaining armor suits,” responded Sasha.

  Another possessed armored robot jumped off its pedestal and moved toward Rose. This one moved swifter, indicating the dybbuk's learning systems improved its control with each possession. It raised its left metal arm, aiming its plasma launcher at her. She dodged a scorching energy beam, and sprinted away to hide behind a still dormant powered-knight. When the pursuing knight approached, Rose climbed the back of the statue she hid behind, and leaped off its shoulders. With four swift strokes, Rose disabled the core nervous system of the rogue machine. The wounded powered-knight fell to its knees, its head sparking from multiple gashes.

  After she moved away, I activated my wrist-com to create a strong binding echelon. This program assembled proto-matter into a thick-barred iron cage that encircled the crippled robot. Then the furious dybbuk howled and attempted to fly. The translucent wraith-like form floated above the ruined powered-knight. Its glowing eyes glared around the room for its next mechanical host. When it beat its wings to depart, my virtual iron bars buckled, but held the creature. The ghost raged, wailing a piercing screech. Its clawed bony hands grabbed two of the bars and started to pull them apart, a visual manifestation of the virus attempting to bypass my ward. My hands tapped my wrist-com, reinforcing the echelon to compensate for the monster's great strength.

  “Hurry,” I urged, “it won’t hold for long.” The creature flailed, causing the cage bars to bend more with each fierce howl.

  “I have completed the task of sealing the room and disconnecting all robots,” Sasha reported.

  “Let it go,” Barnaby ordered, walking closer to my makeshift virtual jail. With several quick jabs of his wrist-com, he accessed the v-cast device and manifested his own trap program. The scaled dragon awakened, enlarging as it slithered off his arm. Its scales shimmered with different hues of green, and its small gossamer wings beat fast like a hummingbird. When the dragon finished materializing, I shut down my binding echelon. The bars disappeared and the dybbuk beat its wings toward the remaining ogre. Before it flew five feet, Barnaby’s emerald dragon barreled into the spectral creature. The dybbuk raked its claws and bit deep into its opponent's long neck. The drake howled, but still wrapped its serpentine body around its target, enveloping the monster.

  Barnaby winced at the burning pain on his arm and he strained to hold the dybbuk in place. With a few more jabs on his wrist-com, the emerald dragon opened its mouth, unhinging its jaws like a python, and devoured the creature whole.

  “I wasn’t sure that would work,” Barnaby muttered. “That counter echelon is brand new.” Before he covered the arm with his shirt
, I noticed that his tattoo still smoldered on his arm, like the dying embers in a fire. The colors of the drake’s scales now gleamed a darker green, flecked with crimson stains.

  The rumble from two dozen footfalls announced the arrival of a dozen Titan security guards rushing into the room. A woman in a white lab coat ran behind them, her brown ponytail bobbing behind her. When she passed by, I spotted the name Dr. Hemmons printed on her lapel. She stopped near Eli, pulling him aside for a private conversation. They kept their voices low while walking away from me, but I caught a curious fragment of their discussion.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Solomon, we should have been here sooner,” she gasped, out of breath from her sprint. She looked mortified and frazzled. “The intruder locked the guards in the outer corridor. Sir, this virus…it appears to share code traits to the one we saw on Callisto,” Dr. Hemmons whispered. Eli's eyes widened.

  “I want it analyzed, now--” he said, lowering his voice and pulling her further away. Before I could move to hear more, David Solomon limped toward me while holding onto Ambassador Shoval for support.

  “My friends, you have saved my life,” David said, beaming. “That hellspawn nearly killed my son!” He offered his hand out.

  “We’re allies now, Mr. Solomon. We help our friends,” I responded, returning his handshake. David’s utterance of the word 'hellspawn' echoed inside my head. With the assassin neutralized, my brain went back to solving the riddle of Dr. Okono’s message. All the synonyms for the underworld flitted through my brain: Hell, Gehenna, Perdition…Purgatory. Then a strange thought bubbled up, and I rushed to the central glass table. My hand waved over it and manipulated the floating interface controls to evoke an extruded map of the Lunar Spire. Buildings, bridges, landing bays all sprouted from the table as a virtual projection. The image looked like a real miniaturized version of the city.

  “Is it really that simple?” I muttered.