Division Zero: Thrall

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Police! Hands where I can see them.”

  The man did not react in the least, continuing to pilot his virtual soldier down a narrow Martian trench. Kirsten tilted her head at the oddity of watching World War II unfold on Mars… with aliens. Game designers get the good drugs. She peeked at his surface thoughts and backed out immediately with a mild headache. The man had two thought patterns occurring at once; half his brain was in the middle of cyberspace trying to break his way through a door, while the other played a game in the real world.

  Kirsten snorted air out of her nose to chase away the smell of a body a month overdue for a bath, laced with the sweet fragrance of Flowerbasket.

  “Good thing we were so quiet coming in,” said Nicole as she stomped past and made a ‘come here’ gesture with her hand.

  Earbuds tore loose from his head with audible pops. Stunned by the feeling of it, the man clamped his hands over his ears.

  Kirsten edged a step closer. “You there, this is the police. Keep your hands where I can see them. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of an officer of the law.”

  “He tried to kill you,” said Nicole. “I hope he resists, so I can shoot him myself.”

  “Panic code alpha!” wailed the man. “Wipe sequence whiskey tango fox―”

  The wires popped out of the back of his neck, courtesy of an annoyed telekinetic. He fell face-first over his desk, from screaming to corpse-like in one eighth of a second. Crashing, banging metal made Kirsten jump, as a shelf on the right side of the room upended itself and fell into a cloud. A digitized metallic roar scraped through the air near two glowing points of red light in the dust.

  A four-armed humanoid bot, about six feet tall and made of unpainted shiny plastisteel, lurched out of a pile of debris. On each of its four arms, an assault rifle mechanism chirped to life and swiveled forward. The two upper, larger arms had mounted tri-barrel rotary cannons while the smaller pair one-armed standard weapons. Automatic ammunition feed chutes emerged from ports along its sides, extending to connect while the weapons spun up to firing speed.

  Freeze. Kirsten’s eyes glowed.

  It ignored her psionic command. “Pathetic mortals, you have trespassed in the domain of Mordac the mag―”

  Clank.

  The skeletal bot’s emergence from the pile of junk continued forward, culminating in a headfirst meeting with the poured concrete ground. The spinning cannons bucked and jumped as the barrels clattered to a halt on the floor. Kirsten’s shaking E-90 continued aiming at its back for a full minute after it ceased moving. Dorian winked.

  The hacker moaned. Kirsten swiveled on him.

  “On the floor, now!” she yelled.

  He fumbled at his coat, as if reaching for something inside.

  Nicole flung an arm outward. The man’s hat flew off and his head jerked upward as if someone had a fistful of hair. He swayed forward, at his desk, and proceeded to smash his own head into the surface six times in a rhythmic beat. After the last hit, he slid down, unconscious and bleeding from the nose.

  “Son of a bitch,” growled Nicole.

  She ran up on the body and kicked the chair out from under him. With all the delicacy of an inebriated moose, she threw him to the floor and relieved him of a pistol and two grenades.

  “Hey, easy.” Kirsten put a hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “We’re here to arrest him, not beat him to death.”

  Nicole did not look at her as she gathered the man’s arms together and cuffed him. “What difference does it make? He tried to kill you. They’re gonna execute him anyway.”

  “Nikki, you don’t want that on your conscience.” Kirsten rolled the guy over and propped him into a seated position against his desk. “Besides, he’s just a contractor. I want to know who hired him.”

  A stimpak to the side of the neck woke him. Thick blood bubbled out of both nostrils as he shifted, testing his ability to brute-force his way out of the police-issued binders. He gazed at Kirsten, then Nicole, and smiled.

  Nicole grabbed him by the lapels of a shirt so dirty it looked sticky, hauling him up to his feet. “He’s gonna make a stripper joke. I’m just gonna kill him so I don’t have to hear it again.”

  “Hey.” Kirsten grabbed her arm. “Let me talk to him first.”

  He groaned as Nicole forced him into an ungainly backward lean over the desk with her forearm pressed into his throat.

  “Try me, jackass. You attempted to kill a cop, who also happens to be a close friend of mine. I could end you right here and get a medal for it.”

  The grin, and the color in his face, faded.

  “Look…” Kirsten stared at him. “You did send your little bots after me. By all rights, the law says you’re supposed to die for attempt murder on a cop. I know it wasn’t your idea. You guys never do anything without getting paid for it. Just tell me who hired you and I’ll put in a request for commutation to life.”

  “I… If you kill me, you’ll never find out.” He thrashed backward, a futile effort to evade Nicole’s grip.

  The redhead’s stunrod leapt on its own from her belt to her hand. “Please do that again. Look, K, this piece of shit isn’t worth it. Just mind-read him, get what you need, and let the law do its thing.”

  He stared at the weapon, all fight leaving him at the sight of it flying.

  “Kirsten…” Dorian reached toward her.

  She glanced at him, then glared at Nicole. “Nikki, that’s not the way we do things.”

  “He tried to kill you, will you stop being so nice to him?” Nicole shoved her arm into his throat. “He ain’t gonna say a damn thing. Bastard isn’t even afraid of us. Hell, I’ll do it.”

  “Kirsten!” Dorian yelled. “Get her away from him, now!”

  Nicole glared into the man’s eyes. Kirsten jumped forward to grab her friend by the shoulder, but was too slow. The instant a telepathic link formed between the suspect’s brain and Nicole’s, the man fainted on his feet. His face sagged into a drooling caricature, eyes rolled back into his head, and he exhaled a dark crimson mist from his mouth and nose, which Nicole breathed in.

  The redhead staggered away, gagging, losing her grip on the stunrod as she stumbled to her knees and held her head. Kirsten ignored the unconscious man falling to the side and shook Nicole by both shoulders. When there was no reaction, she gathered her astral energies and felt a presence within her.

  The room blurred, and Kirsten slammed into the wall fifteen feet away, upside down. Telekinetic force pinned her while Nicole stood up and flashed a demonic grin. Her deep blue eyes had faded milky white and nearby veins darkened into a raccoon mask. She glanced down at herself, cupping her breasts in both hands.

  “This is nice. I should take women more often,” said a male voice. Nicole shook her head with a dismissive sigh. Kirsten struggled to look away as Nicole pawed herself. “No, that would be a bad idea. I’d never get anything done. Such rage inside this one. Yes, I can use this.”

  Dorian tackled Nicole. The telekinetic crush ebbed, letting Kirsten peel away from the wall and land flat on her chest, bracing for pain. Between getting drilled into cinderblocks and falling, she expected to hurt―but felt nothing. I love this armor. She sat up, amid shrieking that vacillated between Nicole’s chirpy pleas for help and a dark quasi-feminine laughter. Shelves and debris shuddered behind Dorian, telekinesis tried to fling the insubstantial man away, to no avail.

  Kirsten summoned the astral lash, bathing the area in harsh shadows and scintillating blue-white light. Nicole hissed at it, shoving and pounding at Dorian as she fought her way up to her knees and tried to slide away from the spectral whip. His eyebrows went up, unprepared for such strength. With Nicole possessed by something, his grip was tenuous at best, as if wrestling with a gelatinous mass.

  “Please don’t hurt me, we’re like sisters!” Nicole added a childlike pitch, the voice now more female, making a face to match the request.

  “This won’t hurt Nicole at all.” Kirsten spun the tendril
around in preparation to strike, but sailed butt-first into the wall a second time. She bounced away and landed sitting.

  Nicole (rather what was inside her) loosed a mocking laugh, pointing at her. “Ha, ha. Can’t reach me.”

  Kirsten snarled and ran at her again, kept just out of reach by a casual emanation of telekinesis. Boots squealed as she tried to run through an intangible wall. The lash swiped back and forth inches from Nicole’s face, making the creature laugh even louder.

  The entity’s amusement faded as Dorian’s running leap from behind drove her forward like a Gee-ball player’s check. Kirsten, emboldened by knowing the lash could not hurt the living, tore the weapon through Nicole’s chest. It snagged as if striking something solid.

  “Get out of her!” roared Kirsten as she pulled back on the energy thread.

  Tension gave out as if the entity inside her friend ruptured. The lash came free, and Nicole fell to her knees in a drunken sway. Black liquid oozed from her ears, nose, and mouth as the sense of a weak obliteration rippled through the air. Kirsten swished the lash through again, feeling no trace of contact with anything.

  Nicole whined, scrunching up her face. “Thib if so”―she spoke as if her mouth was full, and coughed up a blob of black jelly―“fucking nasty.” She coughed again, this time just liquid. “It’s oozing from everywhere .” She shivered. “I feel like I went skinny dipping in hot noseblow.”

  “How is that different than those damn gel tanks?”

  The most pathetic, pouting face Kirsten had ever seen on a grown woman stared up at her. “That stuff didn’t come out of me.”

  “Well, I think our hacker was compelled,” said Dorian, scowling at the ichor. “I doubt there’s going to be any electronic trail to follow back to whoever sent it.”

  “I’m still gonna bring him in. Maybe Ashcroft can find something.” Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief after checking and finding him still alive. “At least they won’t execute him now.”

  Nicole tried to gather her dignity and wobbled to her feet. Every motion made her wince. Kirsten rushed to her side to help her stand.

  “I’d rather know who wants to kill you,” said Dorian.

  Kirsten gazed into space. “I’m sure they’ll try again.”

  irsten held Nicole’s hand in the quiet dimness of the cyberspace rogue’s lair. The redhead trembled, wearing a face of abject disgust. She tried to move as little as possible, standing in a posture reminiscent of a toddler with a burdened diaper. The hacker remained unconscious, lying on his side and secured in binders. Nicole’s grimace deepened onto a scowl.

  “What?”

  “I’m pissed this idiot gets off the hook after he tried to kill you.”

  Kirsten squeezed Nicole’s hand. “He didn’t try to kill me, the entity inside him did. Either way, he’s probably got a pile of illegal stuff in here. I’ll let Div One sort him out.”

  “Fuck this; I can feel slime creeping down my legs.” Nicole let go and waddled across the room to a curtained-off area, opening her armor as she went.

  “You’re not seriously going to…” Kirsten followed. “He doesn’t even have a tube, that’s an old-world bathtub. I doubt the water’s even hot.”

  “I don’t care.” Plastic clatters rang out as armor hit the ground.

  Nicole disregarded modesty. Kirsten cringed as each piece peeled away from her with an audible slurping noise. Her panties hit the wall and stuck, a soot-colored mass of ooze. Nicole froze in a posture as though cold water went down her back.

  “It’s still coming out. Is that… normal?” Nicole gagged, spitting up another glop. “It tastes like bad eggs smell.”

  Kirsten shrugged, waving a hand around. “Sure. As normal as getting possessed by a creature from the abyss and forced to attack your best friend. I have no idea. I’ve never seen it before. Uhh, it feels tainted. You probably wanna get it out of you as fast as you can.”

  Nicole stepped into the tub, hiding behind a hanging plastic sheet. Kirsten cringed away from the sight of dark syrup gliding down pale legs. The same substance continued to seep from her nose. A screech of metal preceded a squeal of shock.

  “Told you the water would be cold.”

  “I d-d-don’t c-c-care,” Nicole said through chattering teeth.

  “I’ll order you some new undies.” Kirsten fiddled with her NetMini.

  Soon, the sound of tromping boots flooded the only passageway in. Kirsten felt embarrassed for Nicole as a Division 6 assault unit in green-camouflage armor stormed in. A gold-visored suit approached and peered down at Kirsten. She tilted her head, amused by the distorted reflection of her face on his helmet.

  “Agent Wren? I’m Sergeant Hunt. We’re here to secure the area while the rat squad runs around lookin’ for cheese.” The visor snapped open, revealing a face the color of chocolate; shaved bald. “Sorry we’re late; the front room had a bunch of toy soldiers.”

  “Wow.” Kirsten raised both eyebrows. “Div Two is actually coming out here to a grey zone?”

  Sgt. Hunt laughed. “Yeah. Is that the guy who tried to kill you?” He kicked the unconscious man.

  Other men in the same assault armor cleared the sides of the room, sweeping for listening devices as well as trip mines. Not one of them paid any undue notice to a naked Nicole sloshing around, waist deep in cold, grey water. One did take a protective position near her, with his back turned.

  “What happened?” Sgt. Hunt motioned at the abandoned armor and the bathing redhead.

  Kirsten pointed at the black stuff. “Spirit possessed her. I destroyed it, but it uhh, started leaking out of uhh, everywhere.”

  Most of the advance team shivered.

  Wow, they almost look like they believe me. Where’s the fearful look? Oh, right. Div Six rotate out of the Marines. These guys aren’t afraid of shit.

  Kirsten’s NetMini beeped. The delivery bot was at the entrance, refusing to enter this structure. She met it outside near two large A3Vs. Each of their six giant wheels was as tall as she was. The lead vehicle, camo green with a manned 30mm turret, had Division 6 markings. The other, slate blue, had no weapons and disgorged a Division 2 investigation team. Two women and two men jumped out before she recognized the fifth person―Sam Chang.

  “Hey…” she said, as she reached up to take a small box from the bot. “What are you doing out here?”

  Sam slung a metal case over his shoulder on a white nylon strap and picked up two larger ones. “They were looking for volunteers to come check out a hacker pad. I heard you were working on the case and couldn’t resist.”

  Kirsten glanced off to the side, a touch of blush in her cheeks. The man radiated schoolboy crush. Almost as soon as she thought it, she felt guilty. I’m Konstantin’s girl. I shouldn’t be looking at other men. Her hand pressed into her stomach to forestall a mild onrush of nausea.

  “You feeling okay, Agent?” Sam put one case down to offer a hand. “You look pale. Is it my cologne? You seem to become ill whenever I see you.”

  She smiled through the pang of discomfort in her gut. “I’m always pale.” After a deep breath, she tucked the box under her arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you in.”

  Tech Chang followed her through the building as she passed on the details of what happened.

  “… and Dorian drained all the power out of it. That thing could still be dangerous if it’s got a backup battery or something.”

  He nodded. “I’ll disable it before I check his network.”

  Once inside the lair, Kirsten tossed Nicole the box. The Division 6 troops had little reaction to her unwrapping a brand-new towel and drying off, though the tech crew had not gone through co-ed military training (or active duty) and either stared dumbstruck or blushed. Sam, however, focused on the inert walker bot more than Nicole and her purple towel.

  And this is why I wore my uniform blacks under the armor.

  Nicole gathered the towel about herself, shivering and pouting at her. Thanks for the towel and undies. The unifor
m would have been soaked and slimy too, right? I’d have peeled that shit right off.

  Kirsten laughed, startling Sam by the apparent spontaneity of it. Good point. You sure you’re okay? Not feeling any strange emotions at all?

  Nope, I’m good. My nips could cut glass right now, but I’m good. Nicole took one of the hacker’s shirts and swabbed out the interior of the armor before putting it back on.

  While Nicole dressed, Sam waved Kirsten over. “I got nothing here that really jumps out at me. Nothing from Intera”―he winked― “and nothing that appears connected to anything you’re working on. Heh, apparently your hacker found Jesus.”

  “Dammit. This can’t be random.” Kirsten’s scowl turned into an eye roll at the mention of Jesus. “What does that mean?”

  “Looks like he did a job for a preacher a few days ago. A Reverend Wallis sent him ten thousand credits.” Sam shook his head. “Must not have been a very dangerous job.”

  “Wallis?” Kirsten stomped over. “Hold on a second, you’re telling me this scumbag was working for Wallis?”

  “Wait, you know the name?” Sam leaned away from the fury in her sapphire eyes. “Uhh, yeah. Hold on, I’m going to try and find a citycam feed of their meeting.”

  Kirsten fumed, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to navigate a series of menus. He reached up and pulled one holographic panel forward, stretching it out to a forty-inch screen before he poked it in the middle. Video showed the interior of a dimly lit restaurant. From the décor, it appeared to be a run-of-the-mill chain place frequented by working-class people.

  Glare from the late-afternoon sun reflecting on the faux-wood Epoxil table blurred the image for a second until the recorder compensated. Sam zoomed in, filling the screen with the image of two men. Kirsten scowled at the smug grin on the face of Reverend B. G. Wallis as he spoke over a cup of coffee. A Class 2 doll waitress―human in appearance with faint lines at the joints and mouth―dropped off a large plate of chicken wings coated in bright orange sauce.

  “Can you get sound?” Kirsten leaned closer.