Vita Aeterna

by Jay Allan Storey

  Then I remembered why I was here. This was bigger than just me. I stared at the gun, shaking in my hand. What kind of life was I going to have anyway, even if I managed to get out of here. Running for years like Zack, getting more and more desperate, watching everybody I knew die before I did. If I could get rid of Wickham, at least I’d give future generations a chance at a life.

  I looked up. Wickham had finished talking, and was turning to leave the stage.

  I slammed my fist down on the grate. It bent open but didn’t fall. There wasn’t enough room in the cramped duct to get a good punch at it. Shouts went up from below. I hit it again and it finally dropped to the floor. Wickham was startled and rushed from the stage, surrounded by bodyguards. I held up the gun and fired. One of the guards went down. Wickham was running now. I fired again, but didn’t hit anything.

  One of the guards turned to shoot me, but Wickham’s voice yelled, “No, it’s him! I want him alive!” It was over. I’d failed. I couldn’t turn around in the duct so I crawled forward. My only hope was to find a grate in another room, climb down, and run for it.

  The duct I was in ran straight ahead for about twenty meters. That’s the direction they’d expect me to go. But a couple of meters ahead was another duct angling off to the right. I took it instead, and followed it into another duct running at ninety degrees. There was another grate about five meters ahead. I crawled to it and looked down. Below was an empty room.

  I stuffed the gun in my belt, punched out the grate, and dove through it to a desk underneath. I landed unhurt, but realized that the gun had fallen and was still up in the duct. There was no time to go back for it. I jumped from the desk, rushed to the door, and opened it a crack. An army of feet were pounding down the hallway, headed in my direction. They sounded like they were about to turn the corner to my left. I took off in the other direction and flew around a corner myself, buying a little time.

  The alarms started sounding again. I had no idea whether it was Richie and his hackers or the Security guys controlling them. I spotted a door to the outside. Was it possible I could get away after all? I crashed into it and to my surprise it opened. I took the steps to the street two at a time, reached the ground, and tore up an alleyway. I ran until I thought my lungs would burst.

  I had to stop and get my breath. I spotted a dumpster and squeezed in behind it, gasping for air.

  Shouts, car engines, and running feet echoed in the distance. As soon as I had the strength I raised myself up and got ready to take off again.

  I froze when I heard a muffled voice coming from the pocket of my pants. I reached in, like I was expecting a trap to snap shut on my fingers, and pulled out the packet of cards.

  The MoneyAll was missing. I fished around in the pocket and found it. The elastic holding the bag had fallen off. The bag had opened, and the MoneyAll had fallen out. I turned it over. Its surface was filled with the video of a face — the face of Charles Wickham.

  “You can’t run, boy,” Wickham said, a sneer curling up on his lips. “We’ve had you all along.”

  I felt sick. “You’re lying,” I yelled at his picture.

  I tossed the MoneyAll in the dumpster, with Wickham’s face still frozen on it. I looked at the bag. The melded card was now glowing. I considered tossing it too, but it had helped me find Wickham and get access to the maintenance room; it might still be good for something else. I wrapped the elastic securely around it, took off my shoe, shoved the bag and card into it along with the money, and put it back on.

  I took one last deep breath and stepped out from behind the dumpster. A line of SecureCorp soldiers stood facing me, their guns drawn. I turned to run. I heard a sound behind me. Before I could turn around, a muscular arm wrapped around my neck and squeezed. After a few seconds I blacked out.

  ☼

  A few seconds later, when I regained consciousness, there was a face hovering a few inches above mine. My eyes weren’t focusing properly yet, but I didn’t need them to recognize who it was. I’d know the stench of his breath anywhere.

  Brickhead.

  He reached down and clamped a hand around my throat.

  “Lucky for you Wickham wants you alive,” he snarled.

  He pushed down, compressing my windpipe until I almost passed out again. He finally let go, probably worried that he’d kill me. I gasped for breath. He dragged me to my feet.

  The line of soldiers had moved closer.

  Brickhead shoved me toward the leader. “Take him to headquarters,” he said.

  Two of the soldiers dragged me toward a SecureCorp vehicle parked nearby. One of them frisked me. He dumped the crypted phone, the money, and the card, which was now pulsing on and off, into a big envelope, and tossed the envelope onto the seat of the driver’s compartment. His partner slid open the side door. They handcuffed me and dragged me inside. The back was empty, except for a bench on each side. They sat me down on the far one, strapped me in, and slid the door shut. A few minutes later we started moving.

  It took a few minutes of twisting and stretching, but I managed to unbuckle the strap holding me in. I thought back on Zack’s story about his escape. Crouching to stay below the window of the cab, I made my way to the side and rear doors of the vehicle. Both were locked; I wasn’t getting out that way.

  I returned to the bench and peered through the side windows at the buildings flying by. They got bigger and fancier with every block — mirrored glass, concrete polished as white as a cloud. And we kept going, deeper into the Corp Ring than I’d ever gone before.

  Finally I sat back on the bench and closed my eyes, exhausted, powerless, and defeated.

  That’s when it happened. A deep blue glow appeared on my HUD, and a shape coalesced in front of it — the head and shoulders of a human being.

  But it wasn’t human. It was like a 3D representation, an avatar. Eyes, a nose, and finally a mouth, gradually formed. When the mouth was finished forming it started to speak.

  “Hello, Alex,” it said.

  CHAPTER 36

  A Friend

  I sat up straight. The glow had faded but now it was pulsing on and off. For a second I thought I was hallucinating. I shook my head and blinked my eyes. The image was still there.

  “W…Who are you?” I asked the cartoon guy.

  “A friend,” the voice answered. It sounded male, but with a weird overtone, like the computer-generated voices on the vending machines, only way more natural.

  “Do not be alarmed,” it said. “I have been attempting to help you for some time, but until my complete integration I was unable to communicate with you directly.”

  Integration? I thought. What was this thing?

  Finally it dawned on me. “You’re the card,” I said.

  I thought about where the melded card had come from, how the meeting location and date had appeared with no security, and the way it had opened and locked the doors at the building where I tried to assassinate Wickham. Now it had spawned some kind of bizarre mutant being that could communicate with my HUD. Why had I kept the stupid thing in the first place?

  The card spoke again. “I represent the fusion of the artificial intelligence components of the two cards from which I was formed. I’m happy to report that I have successfully cross-referenced the mission statements of both SecureCorp and Vita Aeterna, and resolved all resulting semantic conflicts.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said. A square, black region formed beneath the speaking image in my HUD. The title SecureCorp appeared, and bulleted lines of text scrolled down below it. It was too fast for me to catch them all, but I saw:

  • Maintain the Peace

  • Protect Property

  • Prevent Crime

  The title Vita Aeterna followed. Again, I only caught a few of the entries:

  • Study the effects of the Appraisal process

  • Locate and protect subjects with extraordinary Appraisals

  • Identify means to control life extension
/>   “So what’s all that got to do with me?” I asked, still not convinced it was all real. I had no idea what this card creature, or whatever I should call it, was, but if it came from the melding of a SecureCorp card and a Vita Aeterna one, I didn’t see how it could be good.

  “Since I became aware, a few weeks ago,” it answered, “I’ve been attempting to divine the purpose of my existence. My analysis of the above mission statements has led to the conclusion that my most important function is to maximize your well-being.”

  “Maximize my well-being?”

  “In other words, to help you.”

  “What?” I said, staring at the avatar. “Not that I’m not complaining, but are you sure you read those mission statements correctly?”

  “There is no doubt,” the voice answered. “You are an anomaly — an outlier of the highest order. The continuation of your life and health is my most vital concern. In addition, I have identified your greatest threat.”

  I laughed. “I already know my greatest threat.”

  “As you have demonstrated,” the voice said. “On that point, we are in partial agreement. Clearly, for you to survive and thrive, Charles Wickham must be eliminated.”

  I actually pinched myself — I thought maybe I was dreaming, but after the pinch it was all still happening. I wasn’t sure how it was coming up with its world-view, but I was pretty sure that it didn’t have a handle on the real purpose of SecureCorp, and I was positive it didn’t have one on the real purpose of Vita Aeterna.

  But at this stage, I wasn’t going to argue.

  “Wickham is a threat,” the voice continued, “but there is a greater, more immediate one.”

  “Y…Yeah?” I stuttered. I was still stunned by the conversation I was having.

  The figure spoke again. “Mr. Wickham, and the other Elite, have a plan to eliminate those members of society they consider superfluous.”

  “Superfluous?” I’d never heard that word before.

  “Unnecessary,” the voice said.

  My spine stiffened. Zack had claimed they had this ‘Ultimate Solution’ in mind, but I hadn’t believed him.

  “They have constructed a factory deep in the Corp Ring,” it continued, “to produce a toxin that they plan to unleash on the Dregs and the Quarters, resulting in the deaths of millions.

  “If they succeed, your life can only be preserved if you become their prisoner and test subject. Their experiments will almost certainly cause you serious harm — possibly even result in your death.”

  “And…” I started off, worried now that I might say something that would make it change its mind, “you know a way to stop them?”

  “The factory must be destroyed,” the voice said.

  “I’m supposed to destroy a factory?”

  “You will require help.” The image had a creepy way of moving its lips as it spoke. It continued. “My analysis of net traffic indicates serious errors in the Elite’s assessment of the public mood. A number of riots have broken out already, and my evaluation predicts major events in the near future.

  “The coming chaos will siphon off much of the security surrounding SecureCorp installations. The Rebels, and others with an interest in destroying the factory, can take advantage of the resulting vulnerability.”

  I was confused. This ‘card being’, or whatever it was, could be lying (really?), but I didn’t have a lot of friends right now.

  I turned to face the driver’s compartment, where the card lay in its envelope. “How the hell are you doing all this, anyway?”

  The creepy lips moved again. “I can hear you by monitoring the audio input on your HUD controller. I can also monitor the feeds of any nearby cameras to see your image. I will do my best to help you, but my abilities are limited. I can hack into buildings, unlock and lock doors, and control functions such as lighting and heat.”

  “Can you unlock my handcuffs and open the doors of this van?” I asked.

  “The van is an older model I cannot control,” the card answered.

  “No offense,” I said, “but in that case your skills aren’t all that useful right now.”

  The image spoke again. “Through your crypted phone I can connect to the network, and devices attached to it, and make certain changes.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” the image said, “but your phone has just received a text message from a ‘Connor McLean’. I will forward it to you.”

  I’d already told Connor where to shove it once — I wondered why he’d be contacting me again.

  We knew nothing about what Zack was planning, Connor texted. We were as surprised as you were.

  I didn’t believe him, but I thought about how Zack had insisted that I not tell the others what we were doing. I decided to at least hear him out.

  Connor continued. I’ve contacted the Rebels. Bailey and I have gotten together and worked out our differences. The deaths of Travis and Zack affected both of us. We’re after the same thing, and there’s no way we’re going to get it unless we join forces. We’re here to support you if you need us.

  “Can I reply to him?” I asked the avatar.

  “I can re-route your reply to the crypted phone,” it answered.

  Okay, I texted from my controller, too stunned to know what else to say.

  Are you with us? Connor texted.

  I sat there, confused.

  I’ll let you know, I finally texted, still in shock.

  I told the card being to end the call. Its image was still floating in my HUD.

  “What if I want to ‘summon’ you or something?” I said to the avatar. “What am I supposed to call you?”

  “Call me whatever you choose,” it said.

  I heard a story once, from long ago, about this guy who had something called a Genie in a bottle that would grant him wishes. I felt like that guy, with this force that was supposed to be working for me.

  “I’ll call you Gene,” I said.

  “Very well,” Gene answered.

  I thought about what Connor had said. I’d always gotten a more positive vibe from him than from my uncle, but after all that had happened…

  About five minutes later, I got a text from Bailey. He backed up Connor’s claim that they were working together. He also confirmed what Laura had said about Zack’s betrayal and Travis’ death, and that no one blamed me. In the end, the run we were on when Rolf attacked me had been successful. The Rebels had come away with a valuable cache of weapons. Bailey was healing quickly, and was now able to actively lead.

  Connor asked before if I was with you, I texted him. I am in spirit, but I’m sort of unavailable right now.

  I explained where I was, about Gene, and about what was happening. I filled him in on the ‘Ultimate Solution’ Gene had talked about. There was a long pause. He was probably having a hard time believing me.

  We’ll look into the factory thing, he finally responded. There’s not much we can do to help you at the moment but I’ll talk to the others about it.

  A few minutes later, the van stopped. The door in front of me slid open, and my captors motioned for me to jump down. I stood for a second with my eyes bugging out. Fifty meters ahead of us stood a massive, pure white wall at least ten meters high.

  The First Circle — the forbidden zone.

  I didn’t know anyone who’d been inside — not even Cindy. An equally huge and equally white gate was set into the wall. I was half expecting to get machine-gunned or something — there actually were parapets mounted up high on each side, and I could see the tops of what looked like machine guns sticking up over the openings.

  My captors dragged me toward a small door to the left of the main gate, and contacted somebody on their HUDs. Seconds later there was a click. The guards opened the door, and shoved me through.

  I gawked around me. It was night, but the whole place was lit up like a fireworks display. It was like passing through the gates of paradise: gleaming silver and glass skyscrapers,
spotless streets, not a broken window or streetlamp in sight. I stopped short as something else occurred to me — according to my HUD there were no cameras — anywhere! I guess that’s how confident they were that nobody could get in. It was a joke that the two places I’d been that didn’t have cameras were the Dregs and the First Circle.

  My captors chained me to a metal post, then walked over and talked to some other SecureCorp people at an out-building nearby. I noticed that one of them was carrying the envelope with the melded card and crypted phone.

  I stared back at the massive gate, and turned so that the guards couldn’t see me talking.

  “Gene, are you still there?” I asked, still feeling like a moron talking to a cartoon.

  The image, which had faded, reappeared in my HUD. It was a bit less distinct, I guess because the crypted phone was farther away.

  “You say you can open doors,” I said. “What about these ones?” I nodded at the gates. It was partly a joke.

  He answered, “If they are opened without authorization, the authorities will immediately attempt to close them again. But I can set in motion a series of workarounds that will hold them open for approximately one hour.”

  I stared at the avatar, stunned. “I don’t believe it,” I said. “You’re shitting me.”

  There was a deep rumbling sound, and the giant gates started to move. The doors were swinging open, all by themselves. I stood there with my mouth hanging open, staring at the empty space behind them. The guards my captors had been talking to rushed forward. Dozens of soldiers were running around, shouting, trying to understand what was happening. Several of them jammed themselves against the massive doors, trying to push them shut.

  “Okay, I believe you,” I said to the avatar. Almost immediately, the gates began to close again.