At the end of the third month, he heard back from Kim. Requests for more scans, mostly, with equipment trucked into Jacinto’s place and operated by Strikeboy. Quantum material scans, neuroprobe data, information Walken knew about on the surface but could not guess what Kim would be looking for. Toward the end of March, Walken was finally summoned to the comms room for a call he believed would come from Stadil’s ghost.
As Walken sat at the console desk, the scientist’s form winked into being at the other side. The apparition did not possess the same clear rendering as Stadil’s. Perhaps a digital consciousness produced a higher class of fidelity than that of even modern high-resolution cameras. His apparition wore a white lab suit. The short, stout man looked healthier than he had been in Korea. Must have been eating a lot more. He favored Walken with a smile.
“You look good,” Walken said. “I’m pleased to see that you healed easily.”
“I’ve got the arm of a teenager again.” Kim chuckled. “So I suppose I should thank you for the dislocation after all. Anyway. Thank you. They’re taking very good care of me here.”
Walken nodded. “That’s good. I don’t suppose I can ask where ‘here’ is?”
“No,” Kim said. “I don’t even know at this point. Transferred more than twice, you know. But the laboratory setup they have here…it’s all very advanced at least. I almost think some of this equipment might even be alien if I squinted at it a little.”
The words brought Walken’s brows up. “Do you honestly think so?”
Kim smirked. “I could believe a lot of things, but no, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be able to even use it if it was.” Softly glowing hands shivered with occasional distortion. “At any rate, I called you here to give you some information, Mr. Walken.”
“You can call me Tom if you want.”
“Tom.” Kim tasted the word on his tongue. “All right. Well, I’ve completed my analysis as best as I can, given my skills, but I think you’ll find the results rather interesting. Most of this is data you could probably already guess from what combat that you’ve already been in. Laminated alloy skeleton and body structure, diamond-coated, musculature made from some extremely advanced electroactive gel, flexible biphase polymer epidermis, redundant vital systems. Of course, we haven’t figured out what everything is, but nothing looks to be a self-destruct system so there’s that. Your vision and sensory systems are of course confirmed and quantified, no new surprises there. You’ll get a file that will give you the exact specifications and material tolerance limits, that sort of thing.”
“Any surprises?”
“Well, the cutter system was certainly a surprise,” said Kim. “Your body is studded with emitters that project an extremely powerful and localized magnetic field, combined with elements within your structure that use some kind of molecular induction technology to flash-heat available atmosphere into high-temperature plasma. Theoretically, you could surround yourself with the stuff. The fields create a double-walled envelope, and there’s plenty of air around to do the trick. I’m not a physicist, of course, but that’s something out of science fiction.” He snorted. “Much like everything else here. Ah, the issue here is that you don’t really seem to be able to make full use of its potential.”
Walken leaned forward a bit. “I’ve been practicing a great deal.”
“I’m sure you have,” replied Kim in an apologetic tone. “But I’m not faulting your efforts. I mean you don’t have the neurological capacity for this.”
He frowned, but Walken sat back in his seat and nodded. “I’m going to need you to explain that, please.”
Kim seemed to shrink a bit from something in his voice. Walken expected that he sounded like a grim robot again, and resolved to master his tone. “Look, Tom. You know how full conversion cyborgs are. Your brain is more or less organic, usually a good portion of the spinal cord, but everything else is synthetic. You’re basically piloting a body.”
“All right,” said Walken. “I get that much.”
Kim nodded. “Well, to do that, the body’s synthetic nerve net has to connect with your living tissue. And that’s been happening all over, but not in several major parts. The cutter system’s one, and your psychological simulation rig. There’s also the hyperdexterity system that you’ve got. You’re boosted like nobody I’ve ever seen, Tom, not even the finest Wonderland work. Some kind of superconductive substance makes up your artificial nerves. It’s a completely different material from what similar alien systems that have been encountered have made use of in the past. Superior in every way. And there’s also this limited hack system that you have, but we still haven’t been able to figure out how that works. We think it uses the EM grid that the cutter system uses to project wireless signals to surrounding devices, but we can’t locate what part of your brain actually does the work. It’s obviously in the synthetic portion, but there’s a lot of black-boxing going on in there that we’ve yet to get past.
“So yes, you are full of all kinds of technological surprises. The thing is, you have to have a full range of neurological connections to those systems to use them as they were designed, and you don’t. We aren’t sure if the job was just unfinished before you got away or if it was done deliberately, but you’ve only got enough wiring going to those systems for partial control.”
The concept of a halfway job coming from Mother’s labs surprised and disturbed Walken greatly.” I don’t understand. “The familiar knot of concern tied itself inside him. “How is it possible for me to make use of my body at all—or at least, those systems—with partial neural connection? Surely it’s all or nothing.”
“With conventional enhancement technology, it tends to be that way, but we’re not talking about anything remotely conventional. These implants seem to work on an iterative basis, with greater control and capacity being unlocked with further connectivity. These systems aren’t the only locations which haven’t been fully wired, though. There are connections unformed in your brain, as well. Not just between the biological matter and the biosynthetic tissue, but there are signs that portions of your biological brain have been severed beyond what was necessary to patch you up.” Kim gave him a rueful smile. “You’re an unfinished work, my friend. I can’t imagine what you’ll be like if you’re ever completed.”
Walken had the alarmingly distinct impression of his brain as an unraveled sweater. “And what does this all mean?”
“Well, it explains much of your emotional deadness. You and I know very well that you aren’t going to be winning any sensitivity contests any time soon, even with your sim rig. It also explains, at least to me, why you aren’t connected to the part of your brain containing the Yathi personality. With all the tissue damage you suffered in your suicide attempt, they appear to have shut off neural connections leading to that part of the brain. Triage surgery, you could call it. The connections between your original brain tissue and the synthetic components are functional, but it seems to me that they could have made the linkages far more complete than they already have. Unless, of course, there’s something to the process that we aren’t aware of, something about human nerve fibers and the superconducting fibers, for example, or some limitation that requires that it be done slowly over time. Either way, we know that as badass as you are, you would be a lot more so were these connections restored. That’s something for the future, however.”
It was all a great deal to absorb, but Walken tried his best. Could he truly be an unfinished specimen? And for what reason? Who the hell were they rebuilding him for, anyway? He had no memory of the intelligence locked away within his mind to draw from, only the sensation of malevolence and profound disdain for humanity. Hehe could do without that right now. “So if I understand this correctly, you’re telling me that my body is designed to do a great deal more than I already am capable of?”
“That’s the extent of things.” Kim nodded. “Whether or not we can restore those capabilities to you in the future depends on a few things. Most speci
fically, we have to continue working out the map of your brain, how the synthetic components link up with the rest of it. If we can do that, and we can figure out how to stimulate growth of the synthetic nerves so that they better interface with your neural tissue, then I think we can restore that lost functionality to you. We’ll probably learn a great deal more about the Yathi mind-imprinting process, though I can’t say how much. That, my friend, is currently so far beyond anything we have on file that it might as well be black magic.” The scientist made a guttural sound in the back of his throat. “Which, given Clarke’s Law, it really already is.”
Walken gave him a tight smile. “Well, I know that you’ll do your best. I actually do have a question for you, if that’s all you had to tell me.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, I was curious about…my longevity, I suppose. I haven’t heard anything about my power supply, or whatever you want to call it. I don’t eat, and I don’t have to recharge.”
At this, Kim’s features brightened. “Oh, right! I’m sorry, Tom, I should have known. You’re going to be around for a very long time, happily enough. We’ve figured out that you’ve got some kind of thermoelectric system working inside of you. Power cells that operate on the basis of radioactive decay, a custom isotope. Bad for the environment if you explode, maybe, but only in terms of pollution. Nothing like what happened with this Redeye woman that I’ve been told about.”
“I don’t know anything about that person, really,” Walken said.
“Another full-conversion cyborg, like you, but engineered by Cagliostro a while ago. He used her to wage war on the Yathi in the two years before your friend Roberta—”
“Bobbi. She hates ‘Roberta.’”
Kim chuckled. “Well, I’ll remember that should I ever meet her. Anyway, that person was fueled by a potent microfusion unit, which exploded when she committed suicide. That caused a major accident back in your city of Seattle.”
“But…” Walken thought back over his years of college physics.” That’s not how fusion reactions work. No fusion source should explode, however overloaded.”
After a quiet moment, Kim shrugged. “I don’t know the details, as I said. But suffice it to say, it’s physically impossible for that to happen. You might irradiate the area around you, but that’s about it. So, that’s good. But what’s better is the battery life.”
“Which is?”
“About twenty years, per cell. You’ve got four of them.”
“Four,” Walken repeated. “So…. eighty years.”
“More or less,” Kim said. “I don’t know how much power you’re going to go through if you fight all of the time, however. It may be that you can get replacements, but that’s what we know right now. Maybe if your friend Cagliostro can kidnap some engineers, they can make more for you.”
Walken frowned. The concept of living for that long in this body didn’t comfort him. “I see.” He kept his tone neutral. “Well, thank you. Was there anything else?”
“Not from me,” Kim said. “But you’ll have to show me all the progress you’ve been making once we see each other again. Cagliostro will give you the details.” Kim’s dark eyes glittered with wit, even through the faint haze of the holographic projection. “Just make sure that you take care of yourself, all right?”
“I’ll do my best.” Walken nodded. “Good evening.”
Kim’s image fuzzed out, and in its place sat Stadil’s ultra-realistic bulk. He smiled with teeth that seemed wrong somehow. Walken realized with something of a start they were all the same size and shape.
“Good evening, Thomas,” the apparition said in its flat approximation of Stadil’s voice. “You look well.”
“I don’t think that I can look anything but,” Walken replied. “Unless I am broken. You have been busy since last we spoke. It has been some time.” Staring into the conjured face of the intelligence before him, Walken found himself quite unimpressed with its manners. Perhaps due to the revelations Kim had made, and which he had yet to process, giving him the bad taste in his mouth. “What is it that you want?”
“I am busy because I must be,” Stadil replied. “Surely you are not injured because we have not spoken. I had thought you would want to have time to better master yourself after your adventure. I want you to succeed.”
Walken gave him a razor-thin smile. “Not quite so much that you gave me enough time to do so before being sent to infiltrate military compounds.”
Stadil’s avatar did not flinch. “I had been analyzing your progress. My projections indicated that you were sufficiently ready to perform the task. I was correct.”
The words brought a grim frown to Walken’s lips. “Perhaps next time, we might consult more closely on the matter. With better intelligence, say.”
“There was no more intelligence to gather. Understand, Thomas, the ability to penetrate most existing computer systems in the world with little to no resistance does not equate to omnipotence. Things exist in the physical world that even digital prescience cannot account for. You did extremely well on all metrics.”
Walken continued to frown at the image, but did not argue. He knew it pointless. “Well, here we are. I assume that you have need of me again?”
“Yes.” Stadil nodded. “As you already know, part of the reason we recruited Jin Woo Park is not only due to his considerable experience with proto-Yathi technologies, but the connections he has with other scientists in the field. Specialists who, though he did not know it until recently, all had connections to the Yathi in some form or fashion. Specialists whose cooperation I have already secured.”
“The mastermind to beat all masterminds, that’s you.” Walken grunted. “What of these people on Kim’s list?”
“These people, as you call them, have been working in their own facilities elsewhere in the world. However, events have transpired as of late which have raised concern that the Yathi may be alerted to their presence. Therefore, it is vital that these individuals be relocated to a new location, away from Yathi influence.”
Walken narrowed his eyes. “Is there even such a place to begin with?”
Stadil inclined his head. “They will be transferred to an orbital location, under the supervision of Lionel Knightley. From there, the project may continue with little chance of discovery.”
“So I’ve been told.” He remembered Knightley’s words as the mad doctor bent over him. “Which lends the question, why don’t the Yathi go into space? That makes very little sense to me, to be quite honest. A very glaring omission in expansion on their part.”
The projection waved a hand. “The Yathi are mental creatures only. Insubstantial. They have tried to recreate their physical bodies here on earth, only to have them blister and die when exposed to local radiation. There is a great deal of research that suggests that, should hosts be allowed to go into space, it will destroy their Yathi parasites entirely.”
“And you are sure of this?” Walken’s brows arched. “Has there been any evidence to this?”
“Yes and no,” said Stadil. “True Yathi, even the most mundane of colonists, are too precious to waste in laboratory tests. I have not seen all of the data myself, but I know that it is a deep-seated paranoia among the race. Hence, they deal with space affairs through catspaws from afar.”
A fascinating thing to consider. “Tell me… What about when you were a host? How did it make you feel?”
Stadil’s expression flickered. “Let us say I have always found myself strongly dispossessed of the pioneer spirit.”
“If that’s the case, and cosmic radiation may work, then why don’t we… you… somebody adapt some kind of radiation weapon to test the situation?”
“To work on this planet, you would need sufficient doses to kill the host anyway,” said Stadil.” The evidence, in this case, remained inconclusive. Nevertheless, the aversion is an established phenomenon, and our activities can be easily hidden from Yathi proxies.”
Walken found himself frownin
g again. He’d wondered if Stadil had tried it out through some other proxy. “So we’re going to bring them into space. Where do I come in?”
At this, a battery of image panels showing the faces of several men, biographical data, and city maps surrounded Stadil’s image. “We are gathering personnel as we speak. From a central location, we will be able to extract them to your custody. From there, a secure orbital flight will be arranged.”
“A central location,” Walken murmured. “Why there? Why not here?”
“The location is convenient for extraction.”
“You mean they’re already gathered.” Walken scoffed. “Isn’t that right?”
Stadil gave him a flat look. “Their current location is irrelevant. You will be secreted into the area via container truck. From there, you will proceed through the city underlevels to the hotel where the four additional personnel will gather, along with Jin Woo Kim.”
“I don’t like the idea,” Walken said. “It’s too easy for them to be intercepted and dealt with, don’t you think? If the Yathi get wind of them, they’ll kill them all for sure.”
As blithe as the old ghost tried to be, even he could not argue. “It is true that there is a certain level of risk involved. This is why you will be dispatched. You are to arrive with Park, albeit in different ways, and ensure the security of the personnel until such time as they can be extracted safely.”
“And how will that be done?”
“By automobile, preferably. A clean and quiet extraction will ensure that the Yathi are not tipped off. As it is, great care has been taken to ensure that they are entirely ignorant of what Knightley and his fellows are doing. It would prove extremely problematic were the Yathi to become informed, or simply interested, in what is taking place at this point in time.”
Walken wasn’t convinced that the Yathi remained as ignorant as Stadil believed. But on the other hand, if anyone were to know, it would be the old monster. He had the distinct impression of speaking to only a small part of something greater, as if the Stadil-figure were little more than a finger or some other minor organ. “And if things grow problematic?”
Gathering Ashes (The Wonderland Cycle Book 3) Page 31
