Kymiera

by Steve Turnbull

  ‘That’s because I am cute.’

  ‘One day I’m going to want something big.’

  ‘Crash every car in the city and not be arrested?’

  ‘Don’t tempt me, sweetie.’ She paused for a millisecond. ‘There you go, I back tracked the trace to when your passenger got on board and I have it heading up towards Oldham.’

  ‘What’s in Oldham?’

  ‘Damned if I know, sweetie.’

  ‘Seriously, I could get Len to give us a nice place to have dinner.’

  ‘Len? No way, that man is a voyeur and a lech. Have you seen the illegal recordings he’s been selling?’

  ‘I have.’

  He had no idea what sex Babs was but it was of no concern. He liked her. Every wirehead expressed some sort of gender but none of them knew whether it was accurate. If he could have a nice VR dinner with her he would. Even if he had to threaten Len with arrest for his nefarious activities. He wasn’t the most energetically charged electron in the shell.

  But not just yet.

  ‘Sorry, Babs.’

  ‘What for?’

  He hated to do this. Babs was always very talkative and very helpful. Lament guessed that, unlike him, she almost never got to talk to any biologics out there in the real world. Just her handler and other wireheads.

  ‘I need something else, something bigger.’

  ‘You trying to get me fired?’ Then she giggled.

  Somewhere in the east of the city an alarm went off. Lament noted it. The area wasn’t populated so it was a low priority—except there should be no power in the area so why would an alarm be going off? He raised the alert status a few points.

  ‘A bunch of vehicles travelled from Alderley Edge probably into the city yesterday evening—’ list of probable vehicles and times, known origin and unknown destination ‘—I really need to know where they went.’

  Babs paused for a millisecond and then screamed. There was no actual sound and therefore no actual volume. It had a frequency and harmonics. The amplitude exceeded the permitted levels and was squashed. Lament didn’t flinch.

  ‘Sheee-it,’ she said a moment later. ‘Pardon my French.’

  ‘Blocked?’

  ‘Damn right.’

  ‘Utopia Genetics and Purity.’

  ‘They got the authority, but then so have you.’ She sounded angry and affronted. ‘I hate the way those guys can play fast and loose with my systems. They just love to slip their hands up a lady’s skirt.’

  ‘I really need to know where they went. I’ll give you anything you want.’

  ‘Hah! Don’t let your mouth promise what your pants can’t deliver, hun.’

  ‘But I don’t want you to get into trouble,’ said Lament. ‘If it’s a problem.’

  Lament opened a side channel to the recreations wirehead.

  ‘Orright, Lammie boy?’

  ‘Len, how’s it hanging?’

  ‘Hanging right where it should!’ Len laughed, and then coughed like a smoker.

  If Lament could have shaken his head he would have. But they all had their quirks, after all he pretended to be just a machine to the biologics. Except Mitchell and Yates, he let his mask slip for them. He liked them.

  ‘What can I do you for, Lammie, my boy?’

  ‘Quiet restaurant for me and Babs.’

  ‘Oh yes? I can do you something better than that. Nice apartment: privacy, sound of the sea just outside the window. Very private for a bit of how’s yer father.’ He laughed again. ‘Know what I mean, Lammie my lad. Never thought you ’ad it in you.’

  ‘No, I want a restaurant. Not empty, just quiet. And some decent music.’

  ‘A nice bit of sexy Sade?’

  ‘Fine. Right now please.’

  ‘You’re a fast worker.’

  ‘And Len, I know all about the stuff you’re selling. If you record any of this meeting and try to use it, I’ll have you switched off.’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘I’m a policeman, Len, of course I know. I can’t have you thrown in jail but I can have you replaced.’

  ‘Yeah, orright.’

  ‘No funny business.’

  ‘No, mate, no funny business.’

  He returned his primary attention to Babs; she hadn’t communicated while he’d been talking to Len.

  ‘There,’ she said. ‘It’ll take a while to run but that’s got it sorted.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t look at the vehicles or their direct route but they’re such a bunch of arrogant bastards they always override the traffic lights if they’re red. There might be any number of routes but I can track which lights operated out of sequence.’

  A door appeared at the periphery of Lament’s attention. It hung there in the void between his thoughts.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Babs.

  ‘I promised you dinner.’

  ‘And I said I wouldn’t go into any VR created by creepy Len.’

  ‘And I said I’d put the fear of god in him.’

  ‘You did that?’

  ‘I did. Told him I’d have him replaced and switched off.’

  ‘And he believed you?’

  ‘Looks like.’

  Lament stepped through the door that was suddenly right beside him. It was disorienting, one moment he was a floating distributed consciousness, and then he was distilled down to an entity. Even if it wasn’t a real one. He was still connected to the systems and would know if anything important happened.

  He looked at his reflection in the glass window. Len was thorough. Lament was young, maybe twenties, dressed smart casual. Through the window there was a busy street teeming with people and cars, blurred by rain. Nostalgia. This was how it would have been before.

  Len catered primarily for the rich and they always wanted to pretend that life hadn’t gone so wrong.

  ‘Hi, sweetie.’

  He turned as Babs came through the door. Lament smiled, she looked the way she always sounded. Now with a red dress that hugged her figure, with purple lipstick and eyeshadow.

  He felt the kiss she gave him on the cheek and the grip of her hand on his arm. Len’s systems were amazing. And that gave him an inkling of an idea.

  The maître d’ escorted them to their table.

  Len might be a dick, but he could build amazing VR worlds.

  Chapter 15

  Dog

  He wasn’t entirely sure what came over him in that moment when he realised Mitchell was at the door. One second he was sitting drinking tea, and the next he had bounded out of the chair into the hallway and was screaming at the top of his voice for Mitchell to get away from here.

  The hackles on the back of his neck were up, and he knew if he just made enough noise his enemy would turn tail and run. If not, he might have to tear him to pieces. He started to slam his palm against the outside door to make more noise. Make himself bigger. Make sure it was clear who was the boss.

  The figure on the other side of the door, through the frosted glass, stepped back a pace but did not go away.

  In the quiet when he needed to draw a breath he heard others shouting. Good, if they all made enough noise Mitchell would be sure to leave.

  Then Chloe’s voice pierced through the haze of aggression. ‘Dog! What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘Scaring him off! Come on, let’s get him!’ He fumbled at the latch.

  He did not see the blow coming but someone hit him on the side of his head.

  Attack!

  He spun round, with his teeth bared, and lunged at Chloe. She sidestepped, caught his arm and twisted it behind his back. Something hit him in the side of his leg and he went down. There was pressure on his back and it forced his head into the stairs.

  He was flat. He was trapped. He had to fight.

  ‘Stop it!’

  He tried to kick out and then found his legs twisted and pulled back. The ankles were forced into a crossed position and someone leaned on them. His other arm was caught up behind his bac
k.

  Immobilised.

  The only thing he could do was bend in the middle and if he did that pressure was applied and he just collapsed again.

  He could smell Chloe, Jason, and the Voglers—one of the girls had smelled like them—but Mitchell was still here.

  Someone was opening the door! Mitchell’s scent poured in. Dog growled and snarled.

  ‘Shut up,’ said Chloe in his ears. ‘Just stop it. You’re not an animal.’

  ‘It’s Mitchell.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He’ll kill us all.’

  ‘Who’s in charge here?’

  ‘He’ll kill us.’

  Pain shot through him as Chloe tightened her grip, or whatever it was she was doing to him.

  ‘Who’s in charge here?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Just remember I could dislocate your joints one by one.’

  ‘You wouldn’t...’ He trailed off, not entirely convinced that she wouldn’t.

  ‘I don’t think you want to find out. I am pretty pissed off at the moment and it’s not just because some bastard grew a pair of bat wings on me and ruined my life,’ she said. ‘Now if you promise to play nice, I’ll let you up. And if there’s any trouble I’ll stick a collar on you and tie you to the railing outside in the snow.’

  ‘You haven’t got a collar.’

  ‘I can still tie you up out in the snow.’

  ‘I’ve got opposable thumbs, I can undo knots.’

  ‘Not if I dislocate them first.’

  ‘You seem very keen on dislocation.’

  ‘It’s less permanent than breaking bones,’ she said. ‘Or death.’

  ‘Okay.’

  The pressure left his arms and legs. He got to his feet gingerly, expecting to have problems, but apart from aches everything was working.

  He glanced at Chloe. She was standing between him and the front room, and she was glaring at him, poised to take him down again if necessary—he could see the tension in her muscles, and even her wings seemed to be curved towards him aggressively. He did not meet her eyes.

  The scent of Mitchell filled the air. Dog wanted to attack but kept control of himself. Chloe’s presence was enough. He wondered at himself. Now that he had calmed down he tried to understand what had happened—but he couldn’t. It made no sense at all and he could not remember ever reacting that way before.

  She turned away from him and walked into the room, her wings still spread in that aggressive way. He followed but when he reached the door he saw Mitchell sitting across the room and his hackles rose. He tensed. The desire to attack was powerful. There was a threat in the room, but Chloe did nothing about it. She should be attacking as well.

  He stopped and gripped the door frame, tightening his grip until it hurt.

  Chloe turned. ‘It’s okay,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’ve spoken to DI Mitchell before, he’s on our side.’

  ‘He’s tried to kill me a dozen times.’

  ‘You’re a criminal, Dog, and I wasn’t trying to kill you. Just arrest you.’

  Mitchell spoke in low tones. Not threatening.

  ‘I don’t expect you to like me, Dog. And after all this is over, you’ll still be a criminal and I’ll still be a policeman—maybe—so I’ll still be trying to arrest you. Along with your weird friend here, and possibly Miss Dark.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  Mitchell smiled. ‘I expect you’ve broken a lot of laws. I could start with leaving the scene of a crime, at the chip shop.’

  Chloe frowned at him as he stood slowly. Dog’s lip curled into an involuntary snarl.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ said Chloe. He tried to relax.

  Mitchell continued. ‘I used to think you were a freak but then, when you stayed around so long, I thought you were just lucky. Now I know that you three and the kidnapped girls are something different. And I want to help you.’

  ‘We have a plan,’ said Chloe. ‘Find out where the girls are being held and rescue them.’

  ‘That’s your plan?’ said Mitchell.

  ‘Just needs the details filling in.’

  ‘And who’s going to be doing the rescuing? You?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I made a promise.’

  ‘Wherever they are they’re going to be under heavy guard.’

  ‘We can get to them, and then there’ll be six of us.’

  ‘Five,’ said Dog.

  ‘There are three kidnapped girls,’ said Chloe.

  ‘One of them’s a fox.’

  Chloe looked confused. ‘Fox as in an attractive woman?’

  ‘Animal.’

  ‘The one who did the killing?’

  Dog nodded. ‘I don’t like foxes. They can keep her.’

  Chloe closed her eyes for a moment as if trying to decide the best thing to say. ‘We are not leaving any of them behind, Dog.’

  ‘Fox,’ said Dog. Wasn’t it obvious?

  ‘Girl that’s been abused by people who were trusted, before she was born and then in the last few weeks? Ring any bells? She’s the same as you. Same as me, or Jason.’ Chloe took a breath. ‘But okay, you don’t want to help? Fine, but let’s be clear. You don’t help us and you’re not part of the group.’

  The words were simple enough but somehow they struck him to his core.

  ‘Jason doesn’t go if I don’t go,’ Dog said. He didn’t think it was a good argument but he was clutching at straws.

  Chloe looked at Jason. ‘Are you helping me or going with Dog?’

  Jason looked from Chloe to Dog and back again—it was impossible to read his face—then he raised his hand and pointed at Chloe.

  Dog growled. Chloe slapped him. He stared in sudden shock.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Being a stupid git,’ she said. ‘You can’t even see it, can you? You’re letting the animal rule you. You know how many times I got hungry enough to eat a rat?’ She gave him a moment to answer but there was nothing he could say. ‘Never. Because no matter how hungry I got, I wouldn’t eat a rat. You think Jason would eat a rat?’

  Dog glanced at him and for some reason Jason would not meet his eyes.

  But Chloe powered on. ‘I am not the animal. I am not a monster.’

  And then she stopped. Silence except for the breathing and the stomach grumbles. Mostly Chloe.

  ‘Bravo,’ said Mitchell. ‘A very pretty speech. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding where they are, or how we can get to them.’

  ‘You’re not coming,’ said Chloe.

  Mitchell relaxed and put his hands in his pockets. ‘Miss Dark, I am the only person in this room with even the slightest authority to rescue these girls, and even that is pretty tenuous at this time, since my superior ordered me off the case. However, I am unwilling to let it go. Several serious crimes have been committed and I am a policeman. Whether I allow you to come along is the decision that needs to be made.’

  ‘We’ll go with or without you.’

  ‘And that, Miss Dark, is the only reason I will let you tag along. Someone has to protect you.’

  He glanced at Dog, who scowled back.

  Protecting Chloe was his job.

  Chapter 16

  Lament

  He thought his face, wherever it was, was probably smiling. Assuming he had the muscles to smile. It had been nice having a meal with Babs. Elapsed time: three real minutes. Nobody would miss him.

  Break-in reported at an address in the north of the city. Possible murder. Officers dispatched.

  But it had felt like three hours to them. Without having to deal with the inertia of reality, they could have a meal and a discussion at a much higher rate. Yates had been wrong about him doing more than one thing at a time. It was simply that he was not constrained by a body, which meant he could deal with things much faster.

  The humans were completely unaware of how their conversations with wireheads were buffered. Incoming communications were automat
ically processed and held in a buffer until the wirehead was ready to listen, at which time it would be delivered. The wirehead would decide how to answer and compose a message. This would then be relayed to the outside world by the appropriate channel.

  The support software that had been developed for wireheads was constantly being developed and enhanced by the company that created him. And he could buy upgrades and add-ons if he chose to. A fact most biologics were unaware of.

  But it all happened so fast that they could deal with multiple conversations at one time, and do other things in the gaps when the biologics were thinking and speaking. The real art of it was in remembering each conversation so you remained coherent, but if he thought he was losing track he could just listen to it again. If you were good at it you could even put emotion into your tone.

  Lament generally didn’t bother with that, it wasted too much time. Mitchell and Yates were exceptions, he enjoyed winding Yates up.

  So he had spent an enjoyable evening with Babs—and Len had stayed out of the way—which only lasted three minutes in real time. There had been no emergencies.

  Over coffee Babs had got a distant look and said, ‘Shit.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Someone went the wrong way up a one-way street.’

  Lament frowned. She laughed.

  ‘I know where those bastards of yours went.’

  ‘Not here, Babs.’

  She grinned, showing her teeth. There was a piece of food caught in them. Lament was impressed; Len had a lot of clever code running. ‘Something in your teeth,’ he said. He looked pointedly at the location.

  ‘I’ll kill Len,’ she said. ‘What a way to screw up an evening.’

  ‘Here,’ said Lament. He picked up a napkin and leaned forwards. She did the same and bared her teeth. He used a corner to remove the speck. ‘Pretty clever really.’

  ‘If you think you’re getting into my knickers you’re going to be disappointed,’ she said. ‘Especially if I think you set it up with him.’ She took lipstick from a purse he wasn’t even sure she had a moment ago and reapplied it.

  ‘I didn’t, honestly,’ said Lament. ‘And we’ve been away a while. Need to get back to work.’

  Babs shrugged. ‘Three to four in the morning is my quietest time, especially this time of the year.’

  ‘If that’s an invitation, I might be interested,’ said Lament, ‘but not in Len’s VR.’