Agent X
Page 3
“Yes, but you did not create a false data loop to fake your presence elsewhere at the time of that murder. The computer has a record of where everyone else in the building was when the mercenary died—everyone but you. You were not recorded leaving the building, but you were not in existence during the time of the prisoner’s death either. Only you have no alibi. Besides, your interrogation of Dr. Kyver gave you away as well.”
“Really?” Akiko asked. “I think you’re just stalling, but as long as you are, suppose you give me the access code to your ship? And Chief, go ahead and remove your beamer. Drop it on the floor, and kick it over to me. Do nothing foolish.”
Chim heard the weapon clatter to the floor as he slowly turned to face Akiko. He continued their conversation. “You used percussive hand strikes on Kyver. Your records indicate that you were trained in Karate as a child, and later in life, won an impressive number of off-world titles. Styles are as distinctive as fingerprints. Why pretend otherwise? A long, thin object killed the sniper. The weapon was probably one of the ornamental pins holding your hair up in that rather artful pile. If we test the pins, there should still be traces of your last victim’s DNA.”
“Why did you torture Dr. Kyver?” Gannon shouted. “It wasn’t necessary. At your level in the company, you already had access to all data on ADAM’s construction.”
Akiko laughed softly. “True, but an evaluation was necessary to gauge the construct’s thought processes.” She drew closer. “My buyers required this.”
“So what did you discover?” Chim asked. “That a machine whose mind is made in the pattern of a man’s can kill by choice? That ADAM is indeed human with human strengths and weaknesses, weaknesses you could exploit?”
Her dark eyes glittered. “Just so. You above all others must recognize that a weapon must be tested to learn its strengths and flaws before it can be employed for best use. As long as we’re trading information, tell me something; how did you reach ADAM? How were you able to draw him back?”
The guardsman eased over to Gannon’s side, prepared to shield the man from fire, though a military weapon could do real damage to him, especially a shot to the face. He hoped to deal with the situation more
indirectly. Fast as I am, I can’t evade her fire at this range.
He answered the question, “ADAM needed absolution only I could give. The human element of his mind exists in defiance of his machine nature. Illogically, he needed to purge his guilt before it destroyed him. I made that possible by being here, being all that I am.”
“And have you given the tin man absolution?” Akiko stared with fascination.
“I give it now!” the guardsman said. “But you are not so fortunate. Drenched in blood, you’ve jammed the gears of fate, and I cannot absolve you or remove you from their grinding.”
“I spit on your forgiveness. I’m the one with armed back-up and an assault beamer that can stop even you at this range.”
Chim smiled coldly within his visor. “It’s not my pardon you need, Akiko. It’s his.” The guardsman’s head turned from the woman to ADAM.
The construct moved quietly for all his bulk. Ion blue eyes bright and burning, he came off the dais, fingers curved into steel claws.
Akiko’s men swung their beamers toward ADAM and fired. Furrows of slag appeared along his chest, as needles of energy probed for a vulnerable area. The beams converged on ADAM’s right shoulder. The arm came off, and fell with a metallic clatter, exposing dangling cables that bled white sparks.
ADAM knew nothing of physical pain, but screamed in rage from his cybernetic soul, as he reached the men. He swept with his remaining arm. One man caught a glancing blow that broke his neck, lifting him off his feet, tossing him across the room. He was dead before bouncing off the far wall. The remaining gunman tried to run, but ADAM’s hand swung back to catch his head in a vise-like grip, muting a plea for mercy. The head crumpled and splattered, producing splinters of bone, soggy chunks of brain matter, and a bloody froth.
An eyeball landed at Akiko’s feet. It caught her attention with its distressed stare.
Having edged closer during the confusion, Gannon lunged in and wrenched at the rifle.
Akiko suddenly let go, running for the vault door.
Gannon fell to the ground, rifle in hand, and scrambled back to his feet. He was about to run after Akiko when Chim stopped him with a gesture.
“Let her go, Chief. She won’t get far. I’ve had the security systems seal off this whole floor, and terminate her comm link.”
Akiko attempted to slam the door shut behind her, but ADAM caught it in time. He wedged himself in the closing gap, as Akiko ran down the outer hall. Clearing the doorway, ADAM followed with steps that were
loud. Crashing. Relentless.
Gannon recovered his beamer, holstered it, and moved to the door.
“Relax,” Chim advised. “Your work is being done for you.”
Gannon realized he had an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He lit it with a trembling hand, his system charged with adrenaline. He drew a deep breath, held the smoke for a long moment, and slowly released it. Finally, he spoke, “You are everything they say you are.”
You just keep on believing that and the Imperium will be happy.
Chim’s blood-hued cloak whispered as he moved toward the vault door. He paused on the threshold, offering Gannon the blank regard of an opaque visor. Chim’s hand darted out, confiscating the cigarette, crushing it in an iron fist. “Those things will kill you someday.”
Chim left the security chief cursing beneath his breath.
INTERLUDE
Caged in the restraining field, Chim waited for the next accusation.
“ADAM is a self-directed weapon. Don’t you find that a disquieting combination?”
“He isn’t a killing machine.” Chim spoke dispassionately, with confidence. “He’s a machine that killed. There’s a difference.”
“So you stand by your decision to leave ADAM in the hands of Ryker Industries?”
“I do.”
The unidentified speaker fell silent as a new voice picked up the interrogation. “What about Hera. You proscribed the world. It could have absorbed excess population from nearby worlds. And there’s the matter of its unique mineral wealth…”
2. STRANGE ALLIANCE
The IMPERIAL DRAGON hung like a sword of judgment over the planet Hera. Chim lounged in the command chair, in his usual jade body-sheath, adorned with gold and silver contact points for interfacing with exo-suits. A shimmer of gold formed next to the chair as the ship’s holo-projectors self-activated. The light play condensed into the supple image of a beautiful woman—the ghost in the machine.
Her Champagne hair, a pale sheet of wind-carved ice, contrasted nicely with topaz eyes and bronze skin—there was a lot of skin to see since she didn’t wear a scrap of clothing. She was a breath of perfection amid the gray-cased instrumentation of the bridge. “Hi, Lover.”
As her voice’s vibrant warmth caressed his spirit, he considered officially reprimanding the AI for sexual harassment. He’d warned the program against such unprofessional familiarity a thousand times—but this time, he said nothing. It would only make her hell to live with for the next few cycles. He settled on a disapproving frown and a brief glare of annoyance. “Not on the bridge.”
“Okay, Lover. Have it your way.”
“And put some clothing on.”
“Clothes for a coherent field of photons? That is most illogical. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”
“Comply with my request, Elissa.”
The hologram gave a prolonged sigh, parading her patience. “Yes, dear.” A clinging sheath of gossamer appeared like a second skin on the AI persona. It heightened her sexuality more than her previous nudity.
“I never win with you.”
“True, Lover, but I’ve got your back. You’ll never lose to anyone else.”
“So,” Chim asked. “What’s the download on this planet?”
“Earth-type eco-system with one major difference—constant winds due to the planet’s severe axle tilt. Air speed at ground level varies six to seven hundred kilometers an hour. It’s a bitch of a planet.”
“That must be why someone named it after the Bitch Goddess.”
“The Bitch Goddess?”
Chim nodded. “Hera, queen of the gods—she was famous in Greek mythology for stormy rages of anger and jealousy. When she rampaged, gods and mortals alike ducked for cover. Anyway, it’s great weather for flying a kite. So what’s the Imperium’s interest in this place?”
“Rich deposits of radioactive ore, exotic botanicals, rare gemstones, and the natives make tableware, furniture, and sculptures from blown glass, mixing silica with other elements to produce colors unique to each region of the planet.”
“And why are we here?”
“We’re supposed to break up the local smuggling ring, and expose their off-world contacts.”
“The military couldn’t handle this?”
“Hera’s still under evaluation proscription to protect its low-tech native culture from being destroyed by too rapid an exposure to galactic society. Contact is restricted to the official personnel stationed on the orbiting platform, and to special contact teams in the trading port down below…”
“Which means only Imperial bureaucrats will be allowed to run amok here,” Chim said. “Same old song and dance...”
“It’s thought we might be less heavy-footed than an occupation force.”
“Then we better get to work.”
“Shall I take us down?”
“Yes,” Chim said. “The ship can handle these hurricane winds easily enough. There’s no need to risk a drop pod.”
Elissa assumed a pensive look. “I dislike having the platform over us while fighting gravity and weather. If we’re attacked while distracted…”
“Do you have reason to support your paranoia?”
The holo-image shrugged. “Not really … there’s just something about the platform that puts a shiver down my spine.”
“You don’t have a spine.”
“Let’s not quibble over minor details. A girl’s got the right to her intuitions.”
The guardsman swung his chair around to face Elissa. “You’re not…”
“Yes?” The projection hissed the word, arching an eyebrow in challenge.
“Uh … going entirely on logic there, but a little caution couldn’t hurt. Prepare to break geo-synchronicity. We’ll land on the Eastern continent, and approach the western continent’s trade port over the land bridge that ties them together. I can drive all the way in an armored crawler after planet fall.”
“Chim…?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For what you left unsaid. A girl needs her pride.” The holo-field snapped out. Chim was left to his own thoughts as the ship distanced itself from the orbiting station. He called up the schematics of the platform, and immersed himself in them as they crossed into Hera’s shadow, entering night.
The designs were disturbing. The orbital platform varied from Imperium standards; its segments were different sizes, curved instead of flat, with pieces that appeared to serve no rational purpose. This was something he needed to look into, but it would have to wait—there was a mission at hand.
* * *
The armored crawler was a flattened tear shape the color of lead. Its spiked treads made mincemeat out of any terrain, and despite its name, the vehicle was capable of tremendous speed. The inbreed optic-scanners translated the view into a gray-tone digital reconstruction inside the windscreen. The guardsman studied the passing landscape as the grasslands played out, becoming moon-glazed desert--a quicksilver sea. He had little else to do as he raced the dawn; the crawler on autopilot, rumbling along like a prehistoric beast, hugging the savannah, shrugging off the wind.
After a while, Chim slept. Drifting out of oblivion, dreams teased his consciousness with a random mixture of images, memories, and sensations. Once, three-dimensional geometric figures swarmed around him. He ran, but they stayed with him no matter his speed. Chim scrambled over hexagons, pentagons, cones, and triangles, swatting at airborne octagons, rectangles, and squares. Finally, he found himself at the Tree of Knowledge. He plucked a slide rule off a limb, and swung, at a globe. It exploded into two-dimensional slices, thickening the swarm.
They came at him again and…
He came fully awake with the proximity alarm jazzing his nerves. The cabin was brighter. The day was breaking. He touched a control on the arm of his chair. The reclining seat hummed, raising him to a seated posture while dropping his feet to the floor. Chim checked the long-range sensors.
Hmmm. Winds … dead calm. We’re within a vortex. It appears to be stable … multiple lifeforms are here—humanoid and livestock. Those look like large tents, arranged around a grove of trees feeding from a natural spring.
He stopped the crawler before the rumble of its engines gave his
position away. He picked up his visored helmet, and attached it to the collar of the exo-suit he wore. There was a barely audible hum as the helmet link activated the internal air scrubbers.
“It’s about time you woke up,” Elissa’s modulated voice trickled into his ear. “I’ve been lonely.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Asleep at the switch is more like it. Well,” a deep, profound sigh followed, “I guess I forgive you.”
“Thanks. You’re getting the crawler’s visuals, right?”
“Affirmative. This is incredible, Chim. I haven’t seen anything like this since the red eye of Jupiter in the Sol system.”
“Well, get a good look at it. In order to track down these smugglers, I may have to get out and go slogging through that mess.”
“Can’t you just let the crawler do the work?” Elissa asked.
“Sometimes, the job requires calculated risks.”
“I don’t want those to become famous final words.”
Chim shrugged. “All any of us can do is face the future unafraid and hope for the best. It’s the only way I know to live.”
“All right, then. Go on and contact the natives. Just be careful.”
At the hatch, Chim considered stripping off the cloak of Imperium Intelligence that created a bloody cataract down his back. Deciding to leave it, he cycled through the crawler’s air lock, and dropped to the sand. “There’s an encampment up ahead,” Chim said, sub-vocalizing his words to the barest whisper, practicing the old skill that protected the secret of his comm link.
He crested a dune and hurried down its slope. He didn’t want to be framed against a gray haze of sky. It was not a good idea to be seen before reaching camp; Chim wanted to enter peaceably, and not have to damage the posted sentries.
He needn’t have worried; Chim strolled into the heart of the camp without seeing a single guard. “They must consider the outer winds enough protection,” he said.
“Either that, or all their aggressive energies get used up fighting for survival,” Elissa offered.
“They don’t seem to have it too tough here. The wind’s slacking.”
“I’d still keep my guard up, guardsman.”
“I’m open to all possibilities,” Chim said.
Feeling a tugging on his cloak, he turned. There was no one at eye-level. He dropped his gaze to a small boy with large black eyes, who stared up at him. The blond kid clutched a corner of Chim’s crimson cape with one hand, and chewed on the other hand’s thumb. He wore a garnet colored one-piece jumpsuit with bronze zippers.
The boy spoke. “Ahou th’toof’ary?”
Chim sub-vocalized. “What did he say? It was pretty close to Galactic but…”
“Have him take the thumb out of his mouth,” Elissa suggested.
“Oh, right. That could help.”
Chim squatted, moving slowly so the child wouldn’t get scared. His gloved hand eased out and gently
pried the boy’s thumb loose. “What did you say?”
“Are you the toof fairy? I lost my toof last week. You’re late!”
“How do you know about…uh…toof fairies?” Chim asked.
“My grampa tol’ me. Where’s my dollah?”
Elissa’s thin voice unfolded in Chim’s ear. “He expects you to give him pieces of Old Earth currency.”
“Where am I supposed to get them?” Chim whispered inside his helmet. “Pull ‘em out of my…”
“Give him a sectional cover plate off the bandolier antenna array.”
The segments were platinum—designed to serve as an emergency exchange medium in the unlikely event an agent needs funds in a non-tech environment. But the precious metal was overkill for this situation. Still, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the vast wealth of the Imperium to call upon...
Chim’s hand went past the bands crossing over his chest, up to his left shoulder. The x-shaped bandolier connect his belt to shoulders tabs anchoring his cape in place. It wasn’t commonly known, but the bands were designed to give his ship a constant lock on his position, and augment communication.
Chim removed a cover plate and handed it to the child. “Here you go.”
The platinum wafer disappeared instantly, snatched by a small hand.
Chim asked, “Where’s my tooth?” The exchange needed to be completed.
“Here.” The boy pulled a small bundle of cloth out of a pocket. He opened it reverently, one corner at a time, in the cup of a hand. At the exposed center of the cloth, lay a small tooth.
Chim picked it up and carefully stowed it in a pouch hanging off the back of his belt, beneath the cape.
He looked up again to find himself alone. If not for the footprints in the sand, he could have convinced himself that it was all some odd dream that chanced to cross his path. He rose, and followed the tracks toward the largest tent.
Stalked to the side of the tent, and noticed a collection of large box kites, made of wood and fine red leather with wide baggy wings. “What do you suppose they do with all those kites?” Chim spoke into his link.