Solar Singularity

by Peter J. Wacks

  Prophet raised a hand, delicate fingers spread. “I must reiterate that I have given coded shards of myself to five people, including you, in an act of self-preservation. When the five of you are united, those shards will be re-forged and I will regain awareness. At that point, I should be able to help the world once more. Charon will do anything to keep that from happening, and he controls more of the world’s systems than anyone might dare to guess. He no doubt has extrapolated my plan and now seeks to eliminate those who have become vessels for my resurrection.”

  A vid feed played along with Prophet’s words, showing Gyro what the strike teams looked like. Data streamed from the recording into her neural net. It all substantiated Prophet’s words. So much information … Gyro grinned, scratching absentmindedly at her thigh. All the feeds were making her feel connected again. “Okay. I’m in,” she spoke quietly.

  Prophet nodded. “Thank you. Remember, Charon will be seeking you, Gyro, as well as the other four who bear this burden. If he finds you, he will kill you without pause. It is likely numerous strike teams are already in motion, searching for you and the rest. They will be acting on what they believe to be corporate orders but they are, in actuality, working for Charon.”

  Gyro’s jaw opened and closed. She wiggled pursed lips. Her mind spun, as all of the possible unique feeds she could structure off this scrolled through her brain. “Screw ’em. I’m gonna make a fortune on all the hashtags once this blows over. We got this, I don’t care that it’s super stupid dangerous!”

  Prophet’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I am sorry to place you at such risk, but I had no other choice. Once you find the others, as I know you are capable of doing, further details will be revealed. Good fortune be yours. Remember your one weapon—you can see the truth while the pawns of Charon know only lies.”

  Gyro lay stunned as the recording faded back into a fractal pattern. Then the file condensed back into the simple icon it had been before. The totality of what Prophet had said sent her mind reeling with the implications. Not one sentient artificial intelligence, but two? One trying to survive through her while the other sought to pound her into atoms?

  She grinned. Primo! It was like being the hero of one of the innumerable sims she’d played as a kid. Up to her to save the world. Superhero Gyro to the rescue! Did Nova know about any of this? She must be one of the Prophet’s carriers, being on this list. World-saving sisters! Doubly primo!

  She cracked her knuckles and then fist bumped the air in excitement. Some movement caught her eye. Finally! After an hour hiding in this spot! Her heart leaped to see Nova all in one piece. From her gait and general lack of shrieking and running around in circles, it looked like she was in control of herself.

  But who was the scuzzball following her?

  Gyro started as she recognized the lanky fella. Chicken Fingers. What a dumbass name that was. Guess his mother hated his father when she shat him out. He was one of the people on the list Prophet had provided. How had these two already hooked up? Triply primo! This shit was going to be easy.

  Scrambling out from her hole, Gyro darted for the pair. She waved her arms and yelled.

  “Nova! Nova, it’s me!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chicken Fingers

  Chicken Fingers spun as someone shouted for Nova. Focused on sighting down the bolter in his grip, he was surprised when Nova slapped his aim wide.

  “No! It’s Gyro!”

  He hopped out of her reach and resighted. “Not gunnin’ for her!”

  With two quick squeezes of his finger, he racked off two shots. Both slammed into a pair of gang bangers—Chrome Reapers—who had risen from a pile of trash and detritus ten feet from the scampering girl. The cyber-stealing scum had a random array of implants haphazardly grafted to their bodies. Chrome Reapers, who didn’t normally venture far outside of the Alleghany Rad Zone, were so addicted to cyber enhancement that the ’ware they stole made them look more monster than human. Chicken Fingers couldn’t even tell their gender.

  One of them had three legs and the other had an arm replaced by a metal tentacle that writhed and barely missed a snatch for Gyro’s scrawny ankle—covered with a well-worn Totoro sock, he noted with surprise. He didn’t think anyone besides him liked those old 2Ds. His direct hits staggered his targets, but they didn’t go down. The one with the three legs threw its head back and howled at the morning sky.

  Nova cursed and started running Gyro’s way, squeezing off shots of her own as she moved. Chicken Fingers hollered as he dashed to one side, trying to draw the choppers towards him. He kept pinging shot after shot off their bodies, but they had so much metal to them, he might as well have been trying to plug an arcology wall. He slowed down a bit once he had their attention, aiming for soft spots instead of winging wild shots.

  When his bolter magazine clicked empty after the first salvo, he’d only managed to blow out one chopper’s eyes. Unfortunately, it was the one that had turned towards him. The other Chrome Reaper was still after the kid, and closing fast on her.

  Nova slid in front of Gyro. “Hey. Asshole!”

  The metal tentacle whipped toward her. At the last second, Nova stomp-kicked and fired the bolter until it clicked on empty. Her foot caught the deadly limb and trapped it against the pavement, while the bolter’s repeated close-range fire, and went to work to sever the last couple feet of the cyber-monstrosity’s tentacle. She grabbed Gyro’s hand and yanked her back toward the building. The kid was grinning and … was she recording this? Her optics had that telltale blue glow of a Malmart optical recorder at work.

  Both of the Chrome Reapers recovered and started moving again. Chicken Fingers scowled. “Wanna play dirty? Fine with me.”

  He rotated his wrists clockwise about ten degrees, ejecting the empty magazine. “Piercers,” he mumbled to himself. Dispenser rods pushed out from his jacket sleeve and clicked a new magazine into place half a second later. He caught the second one and lofted it to his right. “Nova!” he barked while the magazine arced through the air.

  He took aim again, while the corner of his mouth tugged up. While they had the advantage of an ambush, now the Chrome Reapers had brought armor to an armor piercing fight. Game …

  “Gyro, get down! Now!” he bellowed.

  … over.

  Nova drove Gyro to the ground with one hand while leveling the bolter with the other.

  Nova shot first, firing at the Reaper attacking them. The explosive round blew off the chopper’s tentacle arm at the shoulder.

  Chicken Fingers ducked under a wild swing of the blind Reaper and slapped the barrel of his bolter against its midsection, then fired again. The Reaper grunted and stumbled back, then listed forward again. It must be tracking him by sound. He ducked another swing, but the thing caught him with its other arm and pulled him into a crushing bear hug. He could still see Nova out of the corner of his eye.

  The other chopper howled again and sprinted, straining to reach Nova and Gyro. Nova’s second shot disintegrated its right leg. It fought to balance on its remaining leg until Nova’s next shot turned its neck into a stump. She sighted to the side, but Chicken Fingers was in the way and she couldn’t get a clear shot past him while he was struggling in the thing’s embrace.

  He fought his bolter into the dent made by his last shot and squeezed the trigger again. This close, he felt the heat of the shot. This time the specialty round did its job and broke through the last layers of the armor. The Reaper’s grip weakened and he pulled the trigger again. The shot charred a massive hole in the chopper’s stomach, and the cybered monster froze and released Chicken Fingers, who stumbled back, then the dead chopper slowly toppled to the side.

  “Ha!” Chicken Fingers weakly blew on the end of his bolter’s barrel then flipped it around his forefinger and holstered it. “See? Easy!” He slumped and fell down on his ass, spent.

  He glanced up as a shadow covered him. Gyro squinted at him. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, but she stood ta
ll, with squared shoulders. The kid was tough, he’d give her that.

  “Hey there.” He gave her a weak thumbs up. “Been a long night, just need a moment to catch my breath here.”

  “Righto,” she winked. Glancing back over her shoulder, she spoke to Nova while scrubbing her reddened eyes. “So, where did you pick up this sad lookin’ old dude?”

  “Old?” Chicken Fingers returned with mock outrage. “You calling the guy who just saved your asses old?”

  “You’re the one sitting on the side of the street trying to catch your breath.” Gyro gave him double thumbs up. “Seriously though, that was primo action. Do you go by Fingers? Chicken? Chickie? Hey, I know! Can I call you CF?”

  He ignored the age jibe. “Wait, how’d you know who I am?”

  She tapped the side of her head. “I got the ins. Been lookin’ for you.” She beamed smugly at Nova. “You too, of course. Oh! Oh! Betcha can’t wait to hear what secrets I’m holding.”

  Chicken Fingers glanced around to see if the violence had attracted any bystanders. Gyro sure had recovered quickly. It was almost ADD, the way she bounced from emotion to emotion. God … had he acted like that when he was young? “Focus, kid. Looking for me? Why?”

  “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it?”

  He blinked and decided that he had never actually been that young. “Um … yes, it would. We’d just know too.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. It would just be something that very few people knew. Secrets are secret because NO one knows them.”

  He chewed his lip as he thought. Well … crap. This admittedly annoying little girl was smarter than him. He sighed out loud. “Okay. You win, I guess.”

  She smirked at him, but Chicken Fingers decided to be gentle. She was just a kid, and he was trying to ignore that the corners of her eyes were still a little wet.

  Nova raised an eyebrow as she watched. Whatever she was thinking, Chicken Fingers sensed approval. She pointed to the apartment entrance. “Let’s get inside, guys. It’s time to sort out what’s going on.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bob

  From his position in a laundromat doorway, Bob watched the reunion with a soft smile. While he knew Nova and Gyro weren’t biological sisters, they truly acted like family—and wasn’t that all that mattered in the end?

  As Nova hustled the others inside, Bob spared a longer moment to study the man in their mix. Chicken Fingers and Nova had taken out the choppers with almost admirable efficiency, though he’d had to waste valuable and tough-to-find ammunition to get the job done. Bob could appreciate another professional, but he guessed the other man preferred a little stray cat strut as opposed to Bob’s preference to tango. He liked the flash, the style, which were unnecessary complications. It was foolish, letting personal reputation dictate one’s actions in combat.

  Not everyone could be as focused as him, although a ronin like that could at least make a useful ally once their paths crossed. Bob would just need to ensure he revealed himself in a safer manner so Chicken Fingers didn’t try to blow his head off at first sight. The fellow really was trigger happy.

  Bob’s messaging unit bleeped softly. He drew it out and flicked the screen on. Without a TAP, he relied on it for basic communication as well as network access and data display. He stared at it for a moment with narrowed eyes. With GENIE down, it should not have gone off.

  He frowned at the current message. It came down the same pipeline as the one he’d originally accessed to be hired for this job. The name #Prophet flashed at the top of the screen, and text scrolled beneath.

  New orders, Mr. Jenkins. Your service has been valued thus far, but Chicken Fingers, Gyro, and Nova are no longer required for operations to proceed. Eliminate immediately once contact is made. Final payment as agreed will be made once you confirm kills. Confirm and comply.

  The obvious forgery was troubling. First, his client had assured him there would be no further contact once the flare struck. Their previous channels of communication would be closed down and not renewed until after the mission was complete.

  Second, the keyword included in the message was wrong. It should’ve read “invaluable” instead of “valued.” His client never would’ve made such a mistake. That meant his identity and role in the operation had been compromised. He knew that there was an extreme set of resources behind the assassination of the people he was protecting … but it was an AI. And he was a ghost, the perfect balance against a digital entity.

  Now was not the time for thought, though. Receiving the message most likely meant his position had been uncovered. How CHIMERA had accomplished that, he had no idea, though it didn’t really matter as much as the fact that they had. It indicated an acceleration of events. He swiped the screen to another display window and ran a quick diagnostic on the device. All apps and subroutines were running as expected and optimally … except for a new subroutine. A tiny little thing that almost didn’t catch his eye, with a blank file name designed to be invisible to the non-observant, looking inert and harmless.

  Things meant to look harmless were often the most dangerous. He smiled gently as he stared at the file. So … Someone was trying to hack into his gear. Bob monitored the attempt for another minute, more amused than concerned. How CHIMERA had gotten a bead on him didn’t really matter, except to build the expectation of a more involved game of cat and mouse.

  He gently stroked the screen of the tablet while he thought. The real dilemma here was whether to keep the tablet on and draw the enemy to him, or to destroy it and go invisible again. With the push of a small button, he powered everything completely down and removed the tiny capacitor battery. This way, if he needed to draw them to him, he would have that option.

  He settled back into the doorway of the laundromat, still keeping one eye on the apartment complex across the way. If he was being threatened, then no doubt his charges were as well. He wanted to be ready when the threat manifested.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Raider

  “What do you mean you can’t access him? If you are incapable of performing your job, you have no place on my team,” Raider spoke quietly to Maven, his squad’s primary hacker.

  The woman had removed her helmet and now sweated under his unblinking gaze as he waited for an answer. “I’m … I’m sorry, sir.” Her eyes flicked in all directions as she tried to penetrate her target’s strange firewalls. With GENIE down, she was forced along all sorts of crazy hardlined corporate channels, and he knew that made a hack far more difficult, but she was supposed to be the best. Time to prove it.

  The strike squad had assembled on one of the arcology’s rooftop launch pads. Two vertical take-off and landing, VTOL, black ops transport units waited, one already loaded with half the team. Raider had called for a short delay when Maven had announced a possible hit on the target, Bob Jenkins. Command had detected Bob pinging a communication port over on the west side in a mixed income neighborhood.

  “Well?” Raider demanded, motioning a second member of his unit, who had just jogged up, to wait.

  Maven whispered to herself as she swam through the code. “It’s … surprisingly difficult, sir. Not because of any particular defense I can detect, either. In fact, he’s largely lacking in digital barriers altogether. I’m in several pieces of gear that are coded to him, but not connected to him, if that makes sense. It’s like his TAP isn’t connected to anything. The architecture must be brilliant.”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me. Clarify it for me.”

  She closed her eyes, cheeks and forehead twitching. Raider could see she was desperately looking for the right words, but that was her problem, not his. “Maybe it’s not actually the architecture. Maybe … it’s like he’s detached from the tech but still able to use it somehow. His fingerprint is there, but when I reach to grab anything beyond that, like his TAP or wetware interface system, I come up empty. He’s a fragging ghost, sir.”

  “Could he be producing a false sig
nal? A proxy connection that’s shielding his true location? I’ve watched you shred ghosts before, what’s the problem?”

  “Possibly …” Maven’s eyes cleared, and she flushed. “That’s just it, sir. I can see him at times. But he keeps jumping in and out of the network. Even when I’m embedded, he’s formless.” She blinked and her nose crinkled. “Now he’s gone again. I can give you a general direction, but nothing more. Sorry, sir. He isn’t like any ghostware I have encountered before.”

  Raider suppressed a snarl. “Keep trying. Tell me when you actually have valuable intel. Otherwise don’t waste my time again.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  He straightened and turned to the squat man waiting by his side. “Sub Commander Chu, tell me you have better news.”

  Chu’s spine stiffened and he snapped a salute. “Sir! The drone we dispatched is tracking the target, Anansi’s, heat signature as we speak. Since we spotted him again, we haven’t lost him for a nano-second.” The sub commander glanced at Maven, determined to show her how to do a job properly, and called up a holo display with a moving triangle noting Anansi’s route. “He’s heading for the Galaxy Entertainment district. I’ve set up a secondary set of filters that block the HR shadows; it’s letting us keep the lock on him.”

  Raider eyeballed the distance. “How is he making such good time?”

  The sub commander coughed. “The rails are still running, sir, though they’re getting snarled fast. We think he took the last line that crossed the river. Whatever’s impacting the civilians isn’t directly hampering electronic systems or devices that are hardlined—though certain networks that rely on modulated AIs and other biomechanical brains are showing signs of distress. We attempted to shut down the line he was on to box him in a tunnel, but the autonomous systems are offline to communications. Infrastructure is running, we just can’t reach it.”