Hex

by Rhiannon Lassiter

  This was where Raven was now, speeding down data pathways in a microsecond. No system was closed to her and she extended tendrils of her consciousness in all directions, searching always for a mention of Rachel. Her perception of the net was not something she could describe, the way the circuitry resolved itself in her mind into shapes and colors, tastes, textures, sounds, and smells. Every sense was wrapped up in the experience so that she could not explain how she knew something, only that she knew it. That was how she realized something was different when she ran into something new at the end of a data pathway.

  Instantly all her tendrils of consciousness were concentrated in one place, wrapping around the strangeness to identify it. Incredibly there was resistance and Raven knew suddenly with a flash of insight that this was more than a program. It was another personality in the net. An amateur undoubtedly. The other was suffused with fear and in its disorientation betrayed its inexperience.

  > relax < Raven commanded, whether in words or thoughts she didn’t know, holding the stranger firmly in place. > who/what are you? < She was aware of another struggle to be free and added impatiently: > i am not part of the security services or the cps. if i were, could i do/ feel/be this? <

  > let me go! < the other pleaded, fluttering tendrils of itself in all directions.

  > your name? < Raven ordered, clamping down. The other could resist no more than the locked programs that swung open at Raven’s approach.

  > ali < responded the other and Raven was almost overwhelmed with a flood of images that the name had set free. A sixteen-year-old schoolgirl from somewhere far above in the shielded security complexes of the rich. This was her second foray into the net and she was terrified to have been caught. Raven laughed. The girl was a novice. In a few microseconds she had disgorged enough information for Raven to trace her identity and current location while Raven herself had revealed nothing. The stranger could do virtually nothing in the net, but however inept her bunglings, she would not be caught while within the circuitry. It was more likely that she would betray herself in the real world. In a flash Raven transmitted that information to the girl, still giving away nothing about her own identity. Disengaging, Raven prepared to let herself be swept back into the net.

  > wait! < Ali pleaded. Her immediate panic was dulled by the information Raven had communicated while its substance deeply frightened her. > you must wait—please wait—don’t leave me! <

  > why? < Raven demanded, already bored by the exchange and considering she had done enough for the unknown Hex.

  > you have to stay/help me/stop the cps catching me. <

  > (?) < Raven was annoyed now, her responses becoming more basic.

  > because you’re like me. we (you/me) are the same. <

  > each of us is on our own < Raven replied. > this conversation is terminated. < And she was gone, leaving nothing of her essence behind with which the stranger could trace her. But now she knew indisputably where to find the girl, should she want to do so. Ali’s signature would be imprinted on her eidetic computerized memory until she chose to expunge it.

  Raven shot through a thousand data pathways in search of records. Names, dates, ages swam in and out of her awareness. School records, vidcom registrations, bank accounts, mailing lists. Nowhere could she find any sign of Rachel. But a thousand databases was a fraction of the city’s computer network. She wouldn’t complete the search tonight. Releasing her hold on the information that whirled round her, obeying her commands, she fell back through the net to her originating node. Releasing herself slowly from the circuitry she re-entered her body.

  For a while she blinked, trying to assimilate the impressions of her senses, so different from what she had been experiencing in the net. Slowly she reacquainted herself with reality. The dark room, the breathing sounds of the two sleepers, the flat keypad under her hands and the lingering smell of Chinese take-out food when she breathed in deeply. She stood and stretched, moving awkwardly like an underwater swimmer, her body slow to respond. She walked carefully toward her bed, lying down with a deliberate precision and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  • • •

  Ali slammed back into her body and realized she was shaking. The encounter with the stranger in the network had terrified her. At first she had thought it was the end, that the CPS had found her. The discovery that the stranger was also a Hex had been almost as alarming. The feel of that other presence had been cold and alien. The stranger had been chillingly confident of his or her own abilities and openly contemptuous of Ali’s. She remembered the feeling of that flood of information sweeping over her, the knowledge that the stranger knew everything about her. But worst of all had been the stranger’s refusal to help her before disappearing without a trace. Intellectually she knew that the last person to betray her would be another Hex but up until now no one else had ever known her secret.

  Getting up from the computer terminal, Ali walked to the window and looked out into the night. Somewhere out there was the person she had met in the computer network. Standing alone in the apartment, Ali didn’t know whether she hoped for or feared a repetition of that meeting.

  The lounge was a large room, furnished in zinc-white and ice-blue. Hi-tech appliances were built into three of the four walls. The fourth held a giant window of polarized glass with a serene view of the residential district. The Belgravia apartment complex was located in one of the most expensive, exclusive areas of the city. It was named after an equally exclusive region of Old London, long since lost under the developing city. Now when Ali looked at the apartment she couldn’t help thinking that this was what she stood to lose if her secret was ever discovered. She tugged anxiously at a strand of her ash-blonde hair, reminding herself that no one except for the stranger in the network knew the truth.

  None of her friends could possibly imagine that she could be a Hex. She was pretty, popular, and rich. And she was a member of the largest clique in school because her father was a well-known media magnate and could afford an apartment in the Belgravia Complex where the rest of the clique lived. Bob Tarrell owned five newsfeeds and seven holovision channels. He had a reputation for working and playing hard, which was why he was hardly ever at home. Tonight Ali had no idea if he was working late at the Tarrell Corporation or out with one of the null-brained starlets he liked to date. But even though her father was often away he was a generous parent. Ali had unlimited money to spend on holovid parties, shopping excursions, and visits to Arkade, the district’s recreational complex.

  Now that there was less and less open land available, places like Arkade held parks, zoos, swimming pools, and skating rinks: every activity was catered for. The parkland that had survived for centuries within the heart of London was now swallowed up by the industrial buildings that hugged the ground while the city soared into the sky. The ancient river was forced to flow underground to make room for the bases of the skyscrapers. With the land disappeared, the old buildings, even the medieval Tower of London, survivor of historic sieges, had fallen before the inexorable march of progress. Older people complained that the city had swallowed up its own history. But Ali, like all her friends, was only interested in the future and she intended to be part of that future.

  Her chief ambition was to become a holovid director, a career for which she considered herself eminently suited. She had her future planned out and liked to fantasize about the fame and fortune she would have some day if everything worked out. Turning back, Ali turned off the computer terminal with a decisive snap. From now on she intended to use it only for homework assignments like any other kid. If she didn’t act like a Hex maybe those abilities which were so burdensome to her would just go away. Ali shook her hair out with a smile. Her reflections had restored her confidence. She had no intention of letting the CPS take her away, whatever the anonymous stranger might think.

  • • •

  As Raven and Ali withdrew from the net, information continued to fly between computer systems. The data pathway
s, invisible to anyone but a Hex, spun a complex web across the city, linking it to other cities, other countries, other continents. From the most basic public terminals to the vast computer systems of world governments, almost everywhere was linked to the net. Its tendrils stretched out to encompass facilities in the most far-flung areas, but here and there were blank spots, places the net circled but did not touch.

  In a blank, white room without a computer interface, or any other furniture except a plain hospital bed, a boy stared up at the ceiling. Unaware of Raven’s existence, he was praying for her success, for the success of any other Hex. To the men in scientists’ coats who were watching him, he seemed oblivious of everything, including their presence. But as they readied their instruments, Luciel was hating them. The straps that held him to the bed couldn’t influence his thoughts, and all his thoughts just then were focused on the hope that somewhere, somehow a Hex could survive.

  The long needle entered Luciel’s arm. There was no anesthetic and the serum it held would keep him delirious for hours. In the time that remained to him before he lost consciousness he concentrated on the pain as the last real thing he would know. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the swirling in his head, he recognized the object of his hatred and filled his stare with all the bitterness inside him, as poisonous as the drug that raced through his veins. But the white-haired scientist was not looking at him. Finishing the notations on his clipboard he glanced at his companions to say:

  “Time for the next subject.”

  • • •

  Kez woke the next morning to the sound of an argument in full flow. Wraith’s voice was harsh and tense and Raven’s cold and sarcastic but they were keeping their voices low in order not to wake him. He fought his way out of the bedclothes in time to hear Wraith saying:

  “The whole point of staying here is to keep out of sight, safely anonymous. I can’t believe that you would want to change that.”

  “Wraith, I have no intention of living in a slum when we can afford something better. What are you afraid of? Our new identities are established—why should anyone question our moving higher up?”

  “I’m not afraid,” Wraith replied, his voice rising. “What you are failing to take into account is that our identities are fictional, our cred cards are fictional, everything about us is fictional. We only exist because you’ve fooled the computer network into believing that we do.”

  “If the network says we exist, we exist,” Raven insisted, throwing herself down on her bed in frustration. As she did so she met Kez’s eyes and turned to frown at her brother. “Now you’ve woken Kez!”

  “So what?” Wraith asked and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Kez looked anxiously across at Raven who shook her head in exasperation.

  “Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

  “What were you arguing about?” Kez asked sleepily.

  “Wraith doesn’t want to move up into the heights of the city,” Raven said, from where she was lying flat on her back. “He thinks we’ll draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

  “But you don’t?” Kez frowned.

  “There are advantages to having a respectable official identity,” Raven told him. Smiling, she added: “And I’ve always wanted to live in a really expensive apartment.”

  “Can you afford that kind of place?”

  “If I tell the computer I can.” Raven smiled.

  “Can every hacker do that, or is it because you’re a . . .” Kez’s voice trailed off as Wraith reopened the door.

  In retrospect it had been unwise of Kez to assume that Wraith would not be back for a while. In a neighborhood he didn’t know there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. He had returned to the room to attempt a calm, reasoned discussion with Raven. But the words he heard as he entered the room erased that intention.

  “You didn’t tell him?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “After I told you not to trust him?”

  “Since when do you run my life, Wraith?” His sister sat up on the bed and glared at him antagonistically.

  “You have to be crazy!” Wraith strode across the room and grabbed Raven’s wrists. “This isn’t about us! This could cost you your life!” He turned aside to shoot a hostile glance at Kez. “How could you be so careless?”

  “Let me go.” Raven wrenched out of Wraith’s grip, white marks left by the pressure of his fingers. But before she could continue Kez got to his feet with clenched fists.

  “Hey, man,” he addressed Wraith. “I’m not gonna tell nobody.”

  “Oh yeah?” Wraith asked coldly. “You sell anything on the streets for enough money and you expect me to believe you wouldn’t sell us as well?” He shook his head. “Raven, we’ve got to get rid of this kid.”

  “No!” Kez’s freckled skin turned several degrees lighter and he took a step backward instinctively. “Oh no.”

  “Cool it, Wraith, and you, Kez.” Raven crossed to the boy’s side and put a reassuring arm around his shoulders. She grinned at Kez. “He thinks he’s really something, but he’s a nice guy. He wouldn’t flatline a thirteen-year-old kid, even if he doesn’t like you.”

  “I’m not talking about killing him,” Wraith snarled. “Let’s just leave him here and find another place to stay and another fixer.” He was already grabbing his bag but Raven shook her head.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “If you’re worried about Kez, we’ll just watch him until you stop worrying. But you’re right about getting out of here. I can’t stay in this skanky room for another hour.”

  “This is serious.” Wraith scowled at his sister. “We’ve spent years keeping out of the government’s notice. How can you totally disregard the danger of being found out now?”

  “Because I know what I can do,” Raven told him with exaggerated patience. “And there is no longer any possibility of the CPS or anyone else catching me.”

  “You’re overconfident,” Wraith said coldly. “And you’re endangering both of us, as well as Rachel, if we ever find her.”

  “No I’m not.” Raven turned her back on him and began to make her bed, obviously preparing to leave. “Believe it or not, Wraith, we’ll be much safer out of the ganglands. This is the first place the Seccies would look for a Hex. Up in the heights we’ll be right under their noses and they won’t so much as blink. They’ll actually be protecting us themselves in our characters of ordinary citizens and we’ll be much safer than if we continue to hide from them down here.”

  “This discussion isn’t over,” Wraith warned, but neither he nor Raven made any attempt to continue it and after a silence of a few minutes Kez left them to take a shower. He was beginning to feel that he was in over his head and wondering if it was worth staying with the strangers any longer, Raven’s charm notwithstanding. At thirteen he was already tired of living on the edge.

  • • •

  Ali was sitting by the apartment window, drinking orange juice while she waited for her ride to school, when her father emerged from his room. Bob Tarrell was a big man, with rugged good looks and a powerful wrestler’s stance. He needed very little sleep, and even after the excesses of last night, he looked relaxed and alert.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, tousling Ali’s hair. “Could you get me a glass of that?”

  “Sure,” Ali replied, walking over to the Nutromac unit that served the functions of a kitchen, providing meals for people too busy to cook the old-fashioned way. “Did you have a date last night?”

  “I went out with Carla,” her father said. “But I was working late as well.” He took the glass she offered him, gratefully, and drank most of its contents in a single gulp. “Thanks, honey. Carla wasn’t too happy about that, but ratings are way down again. I’m probably going to have to change the entire format of at least one of the channels. Maybe try something controversial to grab people’s interest.”

  “Really?” Ali assumed an expression of interest. Most of the time her father’s dis
cussion of his work bored her. But as long as he thought she was interested he continued to get her invites to the celebrity glitzfests that added to her social standing in the eyes of her friends and, she hoped, would some day gain her important contacts in the entertainment industry.

  Bob was still musing over his difficulties, tapping the side of his glass with his fingers.

  “Tell you what, sweetheart,” he suggested. “Why don’t you talk to your friends for me, see if they have any ideas for the channel?”

  “Sure, Dad,” Ali agreed. “I’ll talk to them today.”

  “You do that.” Her father was still frowning. “I’ve got to get some kind of hook before the party this weekend. Something to announce to people. It is a working event, Ali. They’re not all coming here just for fun, you know.”

  “I know,” Ali replied consolingly, thinking silently that for her the party would be anything but work. She intended to have a totally ultra time, playing the hostess to her father’s celebrity guests.

  Ali didn’t have to listen to her father’s work problems for long. A few minutes later a skimmer drew up in front of the apartment. She said good-bye to her father and headed outside, passing through three sets of security shielded doors to reach the outside. It was a bright, cold morning and far above her Ali caught a glimpse of the sun in a pale blue, cloudless sky. To compensate for any shadow from the towers and bridges above, the streetlighting was set to simulate daylight. As she crossed over to the car, a sleek, streamlined vehicle, one of its back doors hissed open and she climbed inside to join Caitlin and Zircarda. The door hissed shut behind her as they exchanged casual greetings.

  “So, Ali,” Zircarda began, leaning back against the cream seat cushions. “Tell us more about the party. The whole gang’s coming, right?”

  “Definitely.” Ali smiled, completely in her element. “But not Carol, she’s way too freaky.”