Connor Rix Chronicles 1: Rules of Force

by Steve Statham

  She cried out and raised her gun.

  Without even glancing her way the giant raised his arm, flechette weapon aimed precisely in her direction. He fired.

  Angie 6 stared in shock at the man. Her head then dropped as she surveyed her own body, although she could not seem to see it all clearly. Blood was running freely from her arms and chest. She felt consciousness slipping away, and with it, she knew, her life.

  Too short… Not enough.

  She slumped to the floor on her side, eyes open, unable to move. As she lay there, vaguely awake, she could still see movement in the room. The men coalesced around the largest man, the one obviously in charge.

  "Go find our other red man, and anyone else in this building," she heard him say. He turned to one of the other men. "Arrange their bodies in the usual way. Then gather our dead. Leave nothing of ours behind."

  Angie 6 did not know how much time passed, but soon the red man who had been on the examining table in lab 27 was escorted into the room, along with the owner of Forward Aeronautics. He showed no emotion as he was pushed down to his knees.

  The last thing Angie 6 witnessed was the large man placing his flechette gun against the head of Allen Venway, and pulling the trigger.

  7

  Rix drove through the night back to New San Antonio, satisfied that the Open Sky team would extract the information they needed without his assistance. He was tired and sore from the workout and the actual fighting afterward, but one his favorite features of the blood boost paks was the increased stamina they provided. If he needed to go 'round the clock he could. Anyway, he was unwilling to spend yet another night in a hotel.

  He arrived in the quiet hours of early morning, slipping silently into their room. With his optics he didn't need to turn on the lights. He could see Marie in bed, awake of course, smiling at him. With her Modifications, even he could never sneak up on her.

  "Catch some bad guys?"

  "Yeah. Caught some bad guys."

  She stretched, eyes on him, and reached to turn on one of the lights.

  "I can't think of anything I'd rather do than get in that bed with you, but I really need to shower first. Care to join me?"

  "Mmm. That sounds nice."

  "You sound like you're feeling better."

  "Oh, I'm feeling better. You'll see." She slid the sheets and blanket off, revealing her naked body in the soft light.

  Rix exhaled happily, restfully, finally at home. Home with that body. And that smile that had made him forget all other women.

  He pulled his shirt over his head. He winced slightly as the skin and muscle over his ribs protested.

  Her eyes widened. "That's a helluva bruise."

  "Yeah, but I'd hate to see the other guy's fist right now."

  She raised an eyebrow.

  "Plenty of time to hear the story later," Rix told her.

  She followed him into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he waited for the water to heat. They walked under the stinging water together.

  She faced him and looked into his eyes, then down to his bruised ribs. She then deliberately studied the rest of his body, occasionally softly touching a new-found bruise or scrape. She slowly washed him, pausing a couple times to massage his shoulders or neck.

  He turned her around, her back to his chest, while his hands moved caressingly over her breasts, down her stomach, and back up to her shoulders. He held her tightly against himself, letting the water pour over them.

  Later, in bed after their lovemaking, Rix draped an arm over Marie and looked into her half-open eyes. He was sliding into that welcome state between sleep and consciousness, perceiving reality from different directions.

  He pushed aside the worries that had been lurking in the back of his mind, and let himself feel the deep satisfaction from his union with Marie.

  He smiled slightly as he relived their lovemaking in his mind. It surprised him that the subject of sex rarely ever came up when people discussed the aftereffects of undergoing physical Modifications. When you're lying on some cold operating table or hooked into a web of IVs, and some doctor — an actual doctor if you're lucky — is giving you a stern warning about the potential side-effects of altering your body in such fundamental ways, nobody's mind is on sex.

  But two well-matched Modifieds could generate a lovemaking bout that few normal people could equal. The same softness and tenderness was evident, of course, if the two people wished it that way. But there was also a new and definite physicality possible, as well as an unexpected dimension of sensitivity. With the combination of two enhanced people applying amplified strength against amplified strength, in addition to improved stamina, new frontiers of sexual activity could constantly be explored.

  Rix was daydreaming of the latest exploration as he slid into a deep sleep.

  ****

  They drove down Broadway, windows open in the mild South Texas winter, for a late breakfast at one of their favorite places. It had been a quiet morning. Rix and Marie had settled into a satisfied silence since awakening among the tangled sheets an hour earlier.

  They passed the old zoo, still intact and a tourist draw even after the war. The private universities and museums in the area had largely escaped the damage that had befallen the military bases and some of the downtown areas during the war. It was the same comfortably familiar avenue that Marie had known her entire life.

  Rix turned into the narrow parking lot of Beto's Cocina. The small, bright blue building was snug right up against the edge of the sidewalk. The windows were a riot of competing colors, with the week's specials painted on the glass. There was a rack with a free weekly Spanish language newspaper by the entrance.

  They were greeted inside by a waitress who smiled as she recognized them, and led the two between the tightly-spaced tables, each covered in a brightly colored vinyl tablecloth. They were seated at their usual spot by the front window. Marie ordered huevos con papa breakfast tacos, Rix settled on Chorizo con huevos.

  Rix tried to feign a positive mood. As fantastic as the night had been, this morning was shaping up differently. Rix was feeling the early warning signs of another pain wave, which troubled him. It was way too early for another bout. He tried his best to ignore it.

  He also knew he needed to bring up a subject that always proved to be sobering when the two of them discussed it.

  They made light conversation as they ate their food, teasing each other as they discussed how they would spend the money from the Open Sky job.

  As their plates were cleared away, Rix leaned back, one arm draped over the extra chair next to him, the other hand gripping his iced tea glass.

  "I need to go visit Jake."

  She looked up, levelly meeting his gaze.

  "Yes, I think you should," she said, carefully keeping all emotion out of her voice. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

  "It's been a while, yes," he said, glancing out the window. "I mean to visit him more often, but something always seems to come up."

  Marie was silent for a long moment. "I think you avoid him because he's a constant reminder on what can go wrong with these fabulous Modified bodies of ours," she said at last.

  Rix resisted the urge to snap a reply to her. They'd had this discussion before. There were always going to be people who didn't get rigged in the right way, just as there had always been people who had screwed up with plastic surgery, or abused normally beneficial drugs. The positive effects of the new physical enhancements were overwhelming, but nothing worked out perfectly for everybody.

  When Rix had met Marie, she had been eager to undertake the Modifications. After what her family had gone through during the war, she was determined to make herself stronger, less vulnerable. It had drawn them closer, him leading her through the tangle of options, side effects and potential of Modified physiology. But lately she'd been making more comments that made him wonder if her heart was in it anymore.

  "Sounds like you're having second
thoughts," he said. "Biofilm fever still got you down?"

  "Just trying to see it clearly, that's all. Don't want to get drunk on the power."

  They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, sipping iced tea and casually looking around the restaurant.

  "I'll drop you off back home and then swing by to pay him a visit," Rix said at last.

  She nodded, and they got up to leave.

  ****

  Jake was the last guy you'd expect to end up in the new Texas Republic. A New Yorker, thick accent, always telling stories about a restaurant his family ran in one of the boroughs. Rix always forgot which one. He'd fought on the other side of the Breakup War, and seemed the very prototype of an ASA citizen.

  But a year after the conflict had ended, he'd shown up in New San Antonio. Jake had opened a gym, the kind of gym where MIs worked out. Rix had met him there and the two developed a friendship based on a mutual enthusiasm for the newest Modifications, although both men were cagey about admitting too much.

  Rix had asked Jake one time why he'd ended up immigrating to Texas.

  "Hell, you ever try to open a business in New York? There's like 47 separate permits you gotta beg for before you can even open the doors," he'd said, in his quick New York cadence. "I mean, it's always been that way, but since the ASA flags went up it's even worse now. I move down to New SA, and I've got a gym open and running in three weeks."

  Jake had purchased a large, anonymous suburban house in one of the neighborhoods just inside the loop. It was a completely typical house for the area, but more than once Jake had bragged to Rix about its size, about how much house he got for the money. "You Texans got no idea how good you've got it," he had once told Rix. Then he quickly corrected himself. "Us Texans."

  As Rix pulled into the driveway of Jake's house, however, it was clear that Jake had stopped doting on the property. The grass was overgrown, the shrubs untrimmed, small repairs were obviously needed. As he walked to the porch, he noticed how many weeds had broken up through the grass.

  Cathy, Jake's wife, answered the door. She pulled back a half step in surprise.

  "Why, Connor… How are you?" She stepped onto the porch to hug him. She was a short woman, starting to fill out a bit. Rix could see bags under her eyes; clearly she was tired.

  "Fine, Cathy, fine. How are you?"

  "Oh, you know, we get by. But you must be here to see Jake. Come in, come in."

  She led him through the living room. "I'm sorry the lights are so low," Cathy said as she led him up the stairs. "It's to protect Jake's eyes. They're so sensitive these days."

  The wall along the stairway was lined with family photos, Mets baseball paraphernalia and a framed poster from the family's restaurant; the mementos of a lifetime spent in New York.

  Cathy stopped at a room at the top of the stairs and turned to face Rix. She leaned in to whisper to him. "You haven't been here for a while. You should prepare yourself. He's not getting better." She gently tapped on the door with her fingernail, and then pushed the door open slightly. "Baby? Connor is here to see you. You awake?"

  Rix followed her into the darkened room. The only light seeped through the slats of the blinds.

  What was left of Jake rolled over and lifted his head slightly off the pillow. "Hey, superhero… you come to save me or somethin'? It might be too late."

  "What? They told me this was a super villain's hideout, and you were holding 17 smokin' hot babes hostage."

  He smiled weakly. "I think you got some bad intel, buddy." His head slumped back down on the pillow.

  Jake was a short man who, through the years of body-building — and Modification — had at one time built himself into a compact powerhouse. As he stood looking down at the shrunken man in the bed, Rix had trouble convincing himself he was viewing the same person, a man who had been in his prime a couple brief years ago, shortly after his gym opened. Now, subcutaneous bruising gave Jake an unnatural pallor. Rix tried not to stare at the biceps that no longer held a natural shape, as if Jake's muscles had partially liquefied.

  Rix didn't know all of the Modifications Jake had tried to incorporate — some guys boasted, but, given the quasi-legal nature of the trade, most found it made good sense to never admit everything — but he did know the primary source of Jake's physical breakdown. He had fallen for the "nanobot" scam. Nanobots, the microscopic little robot helpers that were supposed to patrol the bloodstream and repair and enhance the human body from the inside, had made an enormous splash when the word had gotten out about their availability. It was the kind of tech that many people immediately took to be plausible. The public had been reading about nanotechnology in popular magazines for years, and countless movies and TV shows had used the little buggers as a plot device. With all the other biotech breakthroughs suddenly being made, why wouldn't this one be legit too?

  And, in fact, legitimate nanotechnology was indeed moving forward, at least that's what Rix was hearing from his sources. It turned out in this case, however, that the nanobots were entirely fictional. Or more accurately, there was a crude attempt at the technology dumped on the market to make some quick money. Ultimately, they were probably intended to be a placebo, a harmless enhancement that, at best, simply promised far more than it delivered. But the reality had turned out much worse. At least, Rix had always supposed it was a defect and not deliberately destructive.

  With Modifications, the trick was always getting them to all work well together. For most people the nanobot scam had proved harmless, but for others, the blood-borne technology, combined with the assorted new-gen steroids, blood boost paks — even the mech hardware — had resulted in bodies being turned into war zones, as competing imperatives fought for control. Jake had turned out to be one of the latter unfortunates.

  Whatever the intent of the makers, the "nanoscam" was largely responsible for the current low opinion of Modifications held by the general public. It scared a lot of people, scared them bad. There had been a minor panic when rumors spread that the nanobots could eventually find their way into the water supply. Even in the normally liberty-minded Texas Republic there had been talk of heavy, heavy regulation of the Modification industry. With a new nation to build after the Breakup War, however, the issue had been subsumed by more important things. But in the court of public opinion the fake nanobots had already done considerable damage, delaying the acceptance of Modified biotech and driving much of it underground.

  And seeing Jake in this condition, even Rix had to wonder if the public was right.

  "So how's Marie?"

  "Just got over the biofilm fever. Remember how that was?"

  "Huhn. Felt good compared to this."

  "She's doing fine now, though."

  Jake closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, he struggled to focus on Rix. "Any muscle jobs coming your way?"

  "Yeah. We just finished up a case. Good pay. Bad Modifieds."

  Jake nodded at this, and said nothing.

  "Jake, I think it's time we had a talk about the nanos. And please don't tell me it's none of my business again."

  Rix watched the uncomfortable expression settle slowly on Jake's face. He turned away and was silent for a full minute. Then Jake started speaking softly, so that Rix had to strain to hear him.

  "I'm already a burden, and the people I bought them from made it pretty clear I shouldn't talk about my sources. I don't want anyone else hurt on account o' me."

  "I know, Jake. I know. But there's a lot of bad stuff out there. If we don't get it cleaned up it'll all get shut down. People will never get to experience the good side of it. Before things went bad for you, remember how good it felt? Remember feeling strong and invincible? Remember sitting in the gym, talking about the possibilities with the other guys? The good side is still good, Jake. It can make life a helluva lot better for a lot of people. But first we need to clear out the scammers."

  Jake lay still so long Rix began to wonder if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. At last, he croa
ked out a stream of words. "It was some South American guys. They had lottsa stuff for sale, more than anybody else. But they wouldn't sell me the blood paks unless I bought some of the nanoshit, too. I had so many customers for the other stuff I had to say yes. And then I figured I should give it a try before selling it to any customers, so I could give a real testimonial, y'know?" What could almost have been called a sigh had he been stronger passed his lips. "I shoulda waited. Did you know it was only eight days later that the news broke about these things? Eight lousy days."

  Rix watched as Jake seemed to sink even further into his bed. He wouldn't be able to continue much longer.

  "Alright, Jake, maybe next time I come over, you can tell me some more about the South Americans. But just lay there and rest a bit and let me tell you what I read about what the Mets are doing in the off-season…"

  Rix spent the rest of his visit just trying to cheer up Jake with small-talk about sports, and news about some mutual acquaintances. Jake smiled weakly a couple times, but did not say much. After a few more minutes Rix said his goodbyes to Jake and Cathy and walked out to his truck in the driveway.

  He had just opened the door and slid into the driver's seat when a noise from his E-Thing startled him. He'd deliberately put his E-Thing into sleep mode while he was visiting Jake, but now it was emitting a sound he'd never before heard from the device, and the screen pulsed a strange color that was also new to him. The contact code icon was one he didn't recognize.

  He thumbed the icon to answer the call.

  "Yes?"

  "Mr. Rix. This is Alexander Rohm with Open Sky. I need to speak with you in person absolutely as soon as possible. Can you fly out in a couple hours?"

  Rix was stunned into silence for a moment. Rohm? The big man himself, the president of Open Sky, needs to see me right away? Christ. Running through Rix's mind concurrently was the worry that the task he'd done for Open Sky had not worked out as well, or cleanly, as he'd thought. Helluva week. Ok. Go with it.