by Skyler Grant
Ismene was slow to answer. Too slow. "Not yet."
I said, "What do you mean, not yet? I know my last medical examination and I was fine in that area."
"You mean twenty years ago, and before dying and getting a whole lot of barely tested enhancements shoved into your body," Ismene said.
I wasn't planning on having kids right now anyway. I wasn't. Yet the news was still like a splash of cold water.
"So you broke me," I said.
"I didn't break you. Not exactly, you just went past the Opalla line," Ismene said, as if the phrase should mean something to me.
Aphrodite quickly explained, "The Opalla line is named after the researcher who first coined the term. It's the amount a human can be modified before becoming too distinctly altered to interbreed with the rest of the species."
It wasn't that I couldn't have kids. I couldn't have kids with humans, because I wasn't one any more. This just got worse and worse.
"I have it on the list of things to try to do something about. There has just been so much else needing done," Ismene said.
Aphrodite reached out and put her hand on my arm, "Daughter, you'll find for you, as for us, family is what you make of it. When the time comes I trust you'll choose well."
Revelations revealed, I felt myself being kicked out of the Network.
16
I was left dazed and shaken.
That was a lot of news to take in all at once.
"I'm so sorry. I should have said something," Ismene said.
Yeah, she probably should have, but I understood why she hadn't. It was something that she was working to fix. Things had just been crazy for us both.
"Just keep me up to date, and try to figure out how she pulled us in like that," I said.
"I will. Masque wants your help with something across town."
Good way to change the subject and just what I needed, a little distraction.
I didn't even ask why, I just armed up and went. It was raining and the day was chill. I met up with her standing in front of a building.
'Eternal Hope Center' was marked in bright letters over the door.
"Did you join a cult? Am I about to join a cult?" I asked.
Masque let out a low breath. "I didn't know what to do about this place. It's another boxing facility, even larger than the one we took out."
My blood went cold. "That doesn't seem something we have to think about too much."
Masque tilted her head. "We've got an appointment. They wanted to meet you."
I couldn't imagine anyone in their right minds and running a facility like this who would want to meet me. If they wanted to screw with my head, they'd really picked the wrong day.
A couple was waiting for us when we walked through the door. A man in a blue suit, and a woman in a brightly colored, floral gown.
"Miss Persephone," the man said, giving my hand a shake. "Such a pleasure to meet you."
"I doubt that," I said.
"No, we are," said the woman, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. "We're great admirers of the work you do."
"And not at all worried that I might decide to shoot you both in the head?"
The two shared a look and the man cleared his throat. "I'm hoping we can avoid that. We'd like to give you a tour of the facility and explain what we do here. I'm Joe, this is Molly."
I glanced at Masque, who gave a tiny nod. If she thought this worth doing, then we'd try it.
"Go ahead," I said.
The couple led us down a hall. In one room a group of youths sat watching a lecture.
"They're explaining exactly what goes into the process. Before we allow anyone to be permanently connected, they receive twenty hours of face-to-face counseling and sign multiple agreements," Joe said.
"We can sit in for awhile if you like," Molly said.
I listened for only a minute and it seemed to be exactly what they described. It meant little. If they were planning to lie to me, that deception would be well set up already. "Lead on," I said.
I was taken into a large warehouse that looked terribly familiar. Rows after rows of glass tubes filled with a greenish fluid, inside which floated the nude bodies of those connected to the Network.
"This isn't like that dreadful place you took down. We have three doctors on duty twenty-four hours a day in case of any medical emergencies. When someone gets sick we don't kill them, we help them, and if they do need to be removed from the Network we do so," Molly said.
That was different, if it was true. "Who profits? This doesn't come cheap." I asked.
"We do, of course," Joe said, with a nod towards the tubes. "While they aren't using their bodies we make use of them. Induced pregnancies, in some cases, harvested organs which are then regrown, in others. All explained to our participants ahead of time, so they know full well what they're getting into."
It made my stomach churn to think about. If they were right though, if the participants agreed to it, then it wasn't something I'd kill for.
"What about inside the Network?" I asked.
"I made them give me a tour," Masque said. "Rural village. Mostly they farm or craft for about ten hours a day. Good meals, pretty bit of land, and the people seem happy."
"We profit from what we harvest from their physical bodies and the virtual goods they produce. In return, we see their medical needs provided for and provide security both real and virtual to keep them safe—all the while giving them a better life," Joe said.
"It's kindness. It is a new start in a better world," Molly said.
Except neither of them had signed up for it.
"How many do you have?" I asked.
"A little over two thousand right now. We've got another two hundred or so in varying stages of application, expecting to go in. There is usually a waiting list, we're expanding as quickly as we can, but the equipment is specialized," Joe said.
That was so many people.
"And they really think that what you're offering them is better than what they've got out there?" I asked.
"We hide nothing. We show them this room. We put them in for a week and pull them out. We give them every opportunity to say no and they choose this. I know, based on the things you saw, you think that we must be monsters, but we're not. Our clients choose this life," Molly said.
I really did want to shoot them in their concerned faces. I really did. If everything was as they described it though, I just didn't have cause. I might not think this was the right call for the clients to be making, but it wasn't my choice to make.
"What do you think?" I asked Masque.
"I'm thinking what you're thinking, I bet. That it doesn't feel right and I don't like it, but if we shot this place to hell we'd probably be the bad guys," Masque said.
Yeah, that was exactly what I was thinking.
It was time to make some threats. If they weren't deserving of killing, I could at least made sure that they stayed in line.
"I'm going to be watching this place. I'm going to be watching you and any other places like this I find. Eventually business is going to get tough and you're going to be cutting costs, tempted to start protecting these people a little less, and taking advantage of them a little more. Don't," I said.
The couple paled and exchanged glances.
I could see them doing the math. They were wondering if it was worthwhile to try and kill us before we left. Figuring out the consequences of what happened, if they did.
Would I survive? Were there people that would avenge me? If I did survive, what would I do to them?
They should have already thought about all that before I entered the building. They should have had things ready to go, just in case.
My weight had shifted to the balls of my feet and I was prepared to move, if needed. My arm was loose and limber, in case I needed to draw my gun in a hurry.
"We understand," Molly said, after a few moments. "We do hope that if you ever do have any concerns that you'll come to us first."
&nb
sp; The math had come out in my favor. I'd take that. I still wouldn't let my guard down until we'd left the facility.
Masque stepped into place beside me and she was no amateur, her body as ready for violence as mine. Soon we were back in the rain outside.
"I wonder how common places like this are," I said.
"Increasingly common. What you did with Green put a stop to some of it, the worst of it, but this is still moving forward. People are tired of this world, they crave something else," Masque said.
I could understand that. Relatively speaking I'd been lucky since coming to Earth. My role as a sponsored hero, my Olympian reflexes. Friends that actually cared whether I lived or died. Most people weren't that fortunate.
"Check up on the others. If anything is off with them we'll make an example," I said.
The words were more for show than any actual intent to follow up. We'd had a mercenary company helping out the first time around and taking down that facility nearly killed us all. Still, how much would people want to gamble with that, when it came to their own lives? A threat from me carried a lot of weight.
"I hope I find something. I'd love to nail some of these bastards to the wall," Masque said, with a bit of extra flourish.
I didn't get to make any more threats. I was too busy getting shot.
17
The shot had come from behind, taking me in the back, which is why my Olympian reflexes hadn't kicked in responding to a muzzle flash. An armor-piercing round passed right through me. I was already diving for cover behind a land speeder and dragging Masque along with me.
Pain had flared briefly, but was already subsiding.
"Clipped your intestine. I'm working on it, don't move around too much," Ismene said.
Right. That probably wasn't going to be an option during a gun battle.
Adrenaline was starting to hit my system and I peeked out to get a look at our attackers. This time I did see a muzzle flash just in time to keep my head from being split open.
Sniper, out of range. Also, two heavy-hitters in SantaFe armor and wielding heavy rifles were closing in on foot.
"SantaFe," I said.
"They really don't like you," Masque said, firing a spray of shots from her machine pistol over the hood of the vehicle.
"That is getting to be mutual," I said. I slid up the armor penetration on the Silversmith. It would be close, but I'd been getting a better feeling for range. Time this I could take down both heavies without needing a recharge.
I counted to three, looked just long enough to get their locations and fired. I couldn't see the shots land, but I heard the thuds as two bodies hit the ground.
Masque opened the door to the air speeder and pulled down a maintenance hatch.
"You know what you're doing there?" I asked.
"I'm stealing us a car, if you can keep them from shooting me," Masque said.
I hoped I could do that. Neither of us had a weapon that could reach the sniper pinning us down. Rounds regularly slammed into the metalwork of the speedster.
There was a rifle nearby. The heavies' weapons.
"You can not get shot again," Ismene said.
I hadn't been planning on it. Really.
There were pauses between the sniper's shots when he chambered a round. It wasn't an automatic rifle and that left me an opportunity, I just had to be quick and do the unexpected.
I again poked out my head and again the sniper tried to remove it for me. That was my chance. I twisted my body and flipped myself over the car.
It was an acrobatic feat that would have been impressive at the best of times. With a hole in my gut it felt like I was tearing myself apart. I landed and was reaching at once for one of the dropped weapons, grabbing it. I tried to get back over the hood of the car, but another shot caught me.
They'd fired hastily and it just grazed my hip.
I was lying exposed, but Ismene was already filling my vision with a targeting solution and atmospheric data along with the specifications of the rifle. It wasn't designed to fire accurately long-range, but that didn't mean it couldn't hit a target with enough help.
With Ismene's assistance I fired several shots. After each I allowed a new solution to be acquired before firing again.
I shot four rounds without any return fire, before I limped back behind the car. Masque already had the back door open and waiting for me, and I crawled inside.
Masque got in and the speeder revved to life, pulling out onto the street. The back window exploded—it seems I hadn't killed the sniper after all—but our escape was well underway. Masque drove for about half an hour and I made certain to keep my view turned away from the road so my feed couldn't give away our position.
"We're clear," Masque said.
"Do you think that facility called them out on us?" I asked.
It was a logical question. It was SantaFe, but why deal with the dirty work when there were others more than happy to do it?
"Maybe. It isn't like this is the first time SantaFe has come after you though. I thought they'd get tired of it, but they just keep coming."
Yes, yes they did.
If they wanted a fight I was glad to give them one.
I announced, "If anyone out there is big and important, and corporate and watching this stream, and would really like to take SantaFe down a notch either in Network or outside—let's talk and see if we can't strike a deal."
It didn't take long. Within five minutes I had a contact from Pharosa wanting to talk.
I'd attacked a few Pharosan facilities awhile back while employed by SantaFe, although I hadn't known it at the time. They were in the business of making a lot of the high-grade Network interfaces for the boxing facilities. I wasn't eager to crawl into bed with them, but they weren't trying to actively kill me. I took the call.
The car faded out around me and I found myself reclining in a pillow on some sort of barge. It was traveling down a river lined with reeds and people picking plants along the shore. Seated on another pillow was a bare-chested man with the head of a falcon.
I knew enough of Pharosan lore to recognize him.
"Horus, I presume? I'm glad you got in touch," I said.
Horus tilted his head. "Persephone. Your reputation precedes you."
Probably not in a positive way, all things considered, but hopefully we were in the same mental place. A shared enemy could make for a good alliance.
"You wanted to discuss doing some business?" I asked.
That falcon head shook. "No, no business. We wish nothing to do with your activities or to form any sort of official relationship."
Maybe not, but they hadn't brought me here for nothing.
I waited and I stared. I wasn't going to play a guessing game.
"We have some information to share with you," Horus finally said.
"Share away."
I'd swear that falcon head tried to give me a disapproving look. After a moment he continued, "A SantaFe regional director has been dispatched to Earth specifically to deal with you. SantaFe has mixed opinions on you, part of the corporate board feels the cost of this vendetta has already spiraled out of control. Others believe there has to be some resolution."
I wasn't completely surprised. The fact that they kept coming meant someone was getting desperate. That they sent a regional director just proved things.
"They're taking things seriously," I said.
"I understand that there are orders to make an example out of you and your entire team. SantaFe has suffered considerable losses because of your actions," Horus said.
They weren't done suffering considerable losses.
If they wanted to come after me, they were picking this fight. I'd finish it.
"Do you have a location?" I asked.
"I've sent it over," Horus said.
That would do. I logged out of the Network.
My insides did not feel very good. No wonder.
"So, how good are you at multitasking?" I asked Ismene.
"Pretty damned good. Want me to make sure they weren't giving you a line? It looks like it checks out. You really did piss them off," Ismene said.
I really had.
"Can I be fight-ready in an hour?"
"If you want to push it. Yeah, I can patch you up enough for that. What are you planning?"
I couldn't plan anything, that was the problem. With my stream, if I did they'd know exactly what was happening. But I could work around my deficiency. I placed a voice call to Diva.
"This is Diva," Diva said.
"Persephone. Masque and I just ran into a SantaFe hit squad," I said.
"Fuck. You two okay?" Diva asked.
"Yeah. But we're going to make them bleed even more. They have a regional director coming down to Earth for the express purpose of killing me dead," I said.
"Aren't you the mover and shaker," Diva said.
"Looks that way. I want to hit them in about an hour. I can't be in on the planning, and you'll need to keep Billy out of the loop too. I'm sending you over the info."
"Got it," Diva said, after a minute. "Looks good. Hold up somewhere safe and if we need your help, I'll give you a call. We'll get this fucker out of your hair."
Diva was usually the first to ask when we were getting paid, but she was also protective of her team. I guess I really did qualify as one of them after all. It was nice to have people that cared for you, and not have to do everything alone.
18
Masque drove us around until we heard back from Diva. It took more than the hour I'd suggested, it was more like ninety minutes before I finally got the call.
"Junction box on the west side of a SantaFe building. We need it taken down," Diva said, and ended the call. That kept things nice and simple at least.
"How are you for ammunition?" I asked Masque.
"I was half-expecting you to start shooting back there at the boxing facility. I brought extra clips in case we needed to fight our way out," Masque said.
I grinned. Good.
"West side. They'll be expecting us," I said.
"I'll leave it running in case we need a quick escape," Masque said.
