by Jack Heath
Ten minutes later, Six looked at his watch. “King’s still not back,” he said, frowning. It’s not that far to the bathroom, he thought.
Two blinked. “Tell you what, I’ll go down to reception, use the central computer, and find out where he is. He must be in someone else’s office, right?” He shrugged. “You guys stay here in case he comes back.”
Two disappeared down the corridor.
“How did the mission go today?” Kyntak asked.
“Badly. I let the guy I was chasing get away.”
“Why the sudden urge for charity?”
“I tried to catch him, and I failed.”
Kyntak stared. “No way.”
“Yep.”
“That’s not normal at all for you, is it? How are you coping?”
“I’m all right. Everyone makes mistakes, don’t they?”
Kyntak grinned warmly. “Yep, they sure do. Nobody’s perfect, after all.” He paused. “You know, I’m very relieved to hear you say that.”
“Why?”
“Because from the instant you woke up in that cell, you seemed so determined, so cold, so mechanical! But now, it’s like you’ve loosened up a bit. Like you’re one of us again.”
“Us?”
“Human.”
Six chuckled. “Humans.”
Kyntak laughed. “You’re not losing it, are you?”
“Losing it?”
“Yeah. It’s great that you’re coping, but you just laughed at something that wasn’t actually funny. And laughing seems weird from you at the best of times. Has losing a bad guy sent you over the edge?”
Six laughed again. “Me, over the edge? Never! But on the other hand, today has been a very unusual day. Maybe I am. I’ve certainly never behaved this way before.”
If anything has sent me over the edge, it’s King’s little speech, not losing a bad guy, he thought.
“Well.” Kyntak shrugged. “Just as long as you’re okay.”
“Yes,” Six said. “I’m fine. Better than ever.” His smile faded. “Tell me about the photographs on the disk.”
Kyntak shivered. “Creepy, aren’t they?”
“Where’d you get them?”
“Where you found me,” he said. “I came across the old people in their cells, and had no clue as to why they were there. I figured they were evidence of weird stuff going on, so the next day I smuggled in a camera and took some shots. The day after that, they left.”
“What condition were they in?” Six asked.
“Physically they were completely healthy, except for being at least twice as old as anyone I’d ever seen before. But mentally…they were freaky.”
Six frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
“They were, I dunno, senile, I guess. They looked at me but it was a really confused, empty look. Mindless. And none of them spoke English, that’s for sure. They made noises all right, but it was just yelling, gibberish. It was like their brains had been melted.”
Doesn’t sound like a group of old millionaires, Six thought. Unless they’d been tortured.
“How were they brought in?”
Kyntak shrugged. “Actually, I have no idea how they got there. I mean, I saw soldiers drag in a few people on the day I first saw the old people. Some of them were obviously agents or vigilantes, like there was a really, really big guy who tried to escape past me, and he was agile, let me tell you. But mostly I think they were just civilians who saw too much. There was a guy who was some kind of lunatic priest; a woman who looked like an office worker; there was even a bunch of babies that they’d kidnapped for one reason or another. And that’s not even beginning to tell you about the animals I saw!”
“Animals?”
“Yeah—dogs, cats, birds, even tanks of fish. I assume they wanted them for experiments of some type, the ones they weren’t ready to try on humans. But anyway, no old people. Not one person over forty ever entered.”
“Could they have come in the night before?” Six asked.
“I thought they might’ve, but I asked the night shift guy, and he said he hadn’t seen anything. So there’s obviously something special about them—if they were smuggled in without either of us knowing, it must’ve been through a hidden entrance somewhere.
“The weird thing is, they left by the main gate, dragged out by soldiers, kicking and screaming. One of them even managed to worm out of her guard’s grip, but when she tried to walk, her legs couldn’t support her, and she fell down. I tell you, these people were really old.”
“Why would they cover up their arrival but not their departure?” Six asked.
“I figured that they needed them for something while they were inside,” Kyntak said. “An experiment or something. Once they’d got in, it didn’t matter who knew that they were there.”
Six rubbed his chin. Something still didn’t add up. Where had people that old been hiding?
Maybe on another continent, he thought suddenly. Outside the City. Perhaps people lived longer out beyond the Seawall; Kyntak said they didn’t speak English.
Who could say for sure that the lethal fog had stained the entire globe? There could be holes in it, with islands in them, places where people could…
“Did you know that you and I were once birds?” Kyntak asked suddenly.
“Pardon?” Six said.
“Birds,” Kyntak repeated. “Like, originally.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…how much do you know about how genetic science works?”
Six considered this. He’d read a few standard textbooks, he knew the basic history of the Human Genome Project that had paved the way for his creation, but he hadn’t ever really studied it properly.
“I know a little,” he said.
“Well, you know how DNA is just like a code, one that governs the growth of your body? Basically.”
“Basically,” Six agreed.
“So you know that we didn’t always have bodies like ours? That we didn’t start out as superhumans, we grew into it in our first few years as infants?”
“I had always assumed so, yes,” Six said.
“Well, they didn’t implant the DNA into human embryos. They used birds.”
Six’s eyes widened. “Bird embryos?”
“Yep. Peregrine falcons, believe it or not. In the really early stages of growth, they spliced in the human DNA, laced with a bit of cheetah muscle, bloodhound nose, shark skin, elephant brain, that sort of thing, and so from then on the birds slowly became us.”
“Wow…” It had never occurred to Six that the embryos used may not have been human. But it made sense, of course. Human embryos wouldn’t have been easy to obtain, legally or otherwise. And testing on animals would have been more easily justifiable than experimentation on humans. But still…
“Kind of makes you think about destiny,” Kyntak said.
“What?”
“Well, every cell in your body is replaced about once every four years. So four years after the human genes were spliced in, there would have been no traces of peregrine falcon left in us, except the genes in the doctored DNA to make our bones lighter and eyesight better. But there were no beaks, no feathers, nothing like that. We’ve been pure human for three cycles now. Right?”
“Three point two, if you count from the beginning of gestation,” Six said. “But we’re not pure human being—there’s the flesh of many different animals under our skins.”
“True, but if a surgeon were to open one of us up and do an in-depth study…”
Six shivered. Or an autopsy, he thought.
“…they would find an incredibly healthy but otherwise normal human body. The animal DNA has been used to modify human organs; we’re not jumbled-up bits and pieces of animal, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“The point is, we’re not birds anymore, and haven’t been for twelve years now. But look at the way we behave,” Kyntak continued. “We don’t have our wings anymore, but we still jump off buildings and try to
fly. We’ve come so far from where we started, but we still act as though we have to follow the same rules. We should be acting how we are, not how we were…”
“…or how we were supposed to be,” Six finished. “Was that your point?”
Kyntak was silent.
“Interesting,” Six murmured, his voice echoing slightly through the empty office. Kyntak smiled, apparently relieved that Six had not immediately dismissed his idea.
Six shoved his hands into his pockets and balled them into fists. His forehead creased in thought.
“Two hasn’t come back,” Kyntak observed, finally breaking the silence.
“Yes, you’re right,” Six said awkwardly. He wondered where the other agent was. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him. You wait here, okay?”
Kyntak nodded, and Six wandered away down the quiet corridor. “See you soon,” Kyntak called out to him, his voice bouncing off the walls. Six didn’t reply.
“I’m better off on my own,” he murmured to himself.
The polished linoleum clicked in time to his footsteps.
Why? a voice inside him asked. Why fight it? Why not just behave like normal people do?
Because I’m not a normal person, he answered. I’m not even a real human being. I never have been, and I never will be. Grief is for humans. Love is for humans. Friendship, failure, sympathy, and regret are all things that humans experience, but things that I will never suffer.
He felt better already. He felt enriched, relieved, and clearheaded. I am Agent Six, he thought. I am the finest agent the Deck has ever or will ever have. I am the cleverest, most physically powerful man in the world, and no one can stop me from doing whatever I want to do.
He considered for a moment. Maybe he wouldn’t even bother looking for Two. Leave him wandering, leave Kyntak wondering, and find King in his office in the morning. It wasn’t Six’s problem that King had vanished, and Two had followed…
Along with everyone else in the Deck.
Six’s blood ran cold. King hadn’t just gone to the bathroom. Two hadn’t just been unable to find him. No one had gone home. Six whirled around, and saw an empty corridor.
There is no way that everyone just left work early tonight. There are no coincidences.
The Deck wouldn’t have been an easy target, even for professionals. But an attack like this wasn’t impossible. Much of the Deck’s security depended on the secret location of its headquarters. If that were discovered and exposed, then enemy forces could take over. They could send in a dozen agents in disguise with some chloroform in their pockets, wait until people were alone, and then knock them out. It wouldn’t be too hard to get everyone, even in a building this size…but who? Why? Who even knew they were here? And who would dare to attempt an operation that big?
Six quivered with fear. The Lab agents must have followed the surveillance team back to base, and now everyone in the Deck had been kidnapped, or worse…
And the Lab security forces are inside the building.
Six wasted no more time. Within a moment he was gone, and a closet door was swinging shut.
He lay waiting in the darkness, like a coiled spring. Who knew how many of them could be out there. They could be trained killers, they could have guns…
Click, click, click.
Footsteps in the corridor.
Six tensed up all the muscles in his body. His heart pounded like a drum.
Could they be with ChaoSonic security? Who had followed the surveillance team, Six wondered, Lab agents or ChaoSonic soldiers? Surely Ludden’s forces would be more likely to try to take Deck agents away for questioning, not silence them one by one.
So, probably not his side, then. And if these were Lab professionals, Six thought grimly, then they would do anything to cover up what they’d done.
The footsteps came closer. High heels, Six thought, listening.
Could it be Queen?
But Six had never seen Queen wear high heels. He ran through the list of other female agents in his mind. It could be Ace, he thought, or Eight.
Six put his hand on the door handle, about to warn the woman outside…
…when he froze.
There was another sound, more distant than the first one—the sound of padded sneakers on the floor, treading softly, stealthily. Six bit his lip.
Someone was sneaking up behind that woman.
He wanted to rescue her, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know who was out there. He couldn’t see. He didn’t know what they were armed with. He didn’t know who the woman was. There were many reasons to stay where he was.
Could he just let the woman outside die, when he had the power to stop it?
Did he have the power to stop it?
These were the people he had been running from all his life. These were the only people who understood his abilities, except for himself, King, and Kyntak. These were the people who wanted to hunt him down.
And they were drawing closer all the time.
The City’s big, Kyntak’s voice echoed in his head. But you can’t hide from anyone forever—friend or foe.
Six heard the chloroformed sponge cover the woman’s mouth. He heard the muffled scream of horror and the brief struggle. He heard the grunt of satisfaction from the man in sneakers as the movement stopped.
And he heard, too late, the tin bucket behind him fall over as he brushed against it.
Six held his breath as the clattering ceased. Had the soldier heard it? There was silence outside the door. No one was coming towards him, but no one was walking away, either. Six searched the inside of the closet. It was very small. There was nowhere to hide if the man came to look. There were shelves stretching up to the ceiling. More buckets on the floor. A light fixture high above.
And then the first footstep fell. Very light, very careful, very slow, but Six heard it. The man was heading for the closet.
Six desperately tried to think of a way out. The light fixture. What about the light fixture? The ceiling, a very high ceiling, with a light on it. As he heard the hand close on the door handle, he tensed up his whole body, waiting. A high ceiling.
As he heard the handle turn, he jumped. His body sprang up through the blackness of the closet, his hands found the top shelf and pushed it away, his back collided with the wall above the door, he whirled around, and landed lightly on the top of the door as it started to open.
Crouching on the edge, he held on with his hands to keep his balance as the door was pushed all the way open and a gun barrel appeared below him. The man came through the doorway; he was dressed in black and wearing a ski mask. He had a Raptor GD933 in his hand.
He stepped inside and swung the door back.
Six rolled his hands into fists, one finger at a time. When the man looks up, he plotted, I can drop down onto his head, feet first. When I land, I’ll grab the door handle and slam it shut. If he gets in the way, I’ll close the door on him once, then push him inside and shut it properly. If he’s too bewildered from the kick in the face to get to the door, no problem, I’ll lock him in, and make a break for it. He’ll never find his way out of there, anyway. The tricky bit will be getting out of the building—the place could be crawling with armed agents, and they’ve already taken out the other Deck agents, so they must be competent—I’d never be able to get out the front door. My best bet is to steal one of the Twin-900 stealth choppers or jump out of a window.
Then the man with the ski mask silently backed out of the closet, closing the door behind him. Six slipped off the top of the door as his feet touched the wall, and then he landed softly on the floor. He pressed his ear up against the door, and heard footsteps fading away into the distance. When they had gone, Six continued listening, but only silence reached his ears.
Six sat down in a daze. The agents were gone, the Deck was empty, and there was no one to help him. There was no place to hide from the Lab now.
MISSION FIVE
TO BOLDLY GO
Earle Shuji looked up, surprised, as Ag
ent Six entered the cell.
She raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
“My name is Agent Six of Hearts,” Six said. “Also known as Scott Macintyre.” It wouldn’t do her any harm to know what he was capable of, he thought.
Shuji blinked. “Well,” she said, “you looked older then.”
“Our makeup artist is very good,” Six said. “I’m actually only sixteen.”
“You still look older than that,” Shuji said, frowning.
“I was a product of the superhuman assassin project that the Lab started twenty years ago,” Six confessed. There, I said it, he thought. “I matured physically pretty quickly.”
Shuji’s eyes widened. Then her expression changed. She was now looking at him as an object, a tool, rather than as a person. This was how Six had always known people would treat him if his secret was ever found out.
Six held her gaze and she grimaced. “That explains a lot,” she said finally.
Six nodded grimly. “If it makes you feel any better, your bot was the toughest opponent I’d had in years.” He sat down opposite her. “But I didn’t come in here for idle chitchat. I came to make a deal.”
King’s words floated through his head again. They’ll be dealing with some very rich, and therefore very dangerous people.
“What deal?” Shuji asked suspiciously.
“If you know where the Project Falcon lab is,” Six said, “I’ll let you go free.”
“You won’t let me go free,” Shuji said. “I’ve killed too many people for that.”
“I don’t believe in justice,” Six said. “Justice is a widely accepted construct of humanity’s desire for revenge. I believe that punishment has two practical uses. One, as a preventative measure. If a man is imprisoned for engaging in immoral activities that inflict suffering on others, he will usually be unable to continue these activities while he is imprisoned. Two, as a deterrent. People try not to participate in activities that will draw the attention of the Deck for fear of the penalties if they are caught. Fewer crimes are committed if more Code-breakers are punished—and penalties deter repeat offenders as well.
“If ‘justice’ were done upon you, Dr. Shuji,” he continued, “you would be tortured, starved, beaten, imprisoned, and forced into a fight to the death with an invincible machine. This would be repeated around a hundred times.”
