by Cameron, TR
He laughed. “I’ll explain it in more detail sometime.”
Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “Next time I have insomnia, maybe.”
“Witch.”
“Bastard.”
He grinned at the exchange of familiar insults, then stopped again. Ahead, two guards patrolled, both of them wearing armor similar to his but lacking the cloak. The one on the right held a torch, suggesting it was a specialized detection bot. His partner wielded dual crossbows, one in each hand, signaling it was the offensive member of the pair. Doesn’t matter which they are, they both need to go down together, so they can’t shout an alarm.
Another cloaking program wrapped him in silence as he moved stealthily forward, pausing six feet away from his foes. They still hadn’t noticed him, which he considered lucky, given how close he’d managed to get. He transferred the crossbow to his left hand and drew his sword an inch at a time, as quietly as possible from its scabbard.
When it was free, he dashed behind the pair and shot the left one in the back of the neck with a bolt at point-blank range while he rammed the sword through the other’s back, aiming for the heart. Both blows struck true, and the duo glittered into nothingness. “Yes. I am invincible.”
Kayleigh snorted. “You remember what happened to the guy who said that in Goldeneye, right?”
“Yeah, but he was a boastful jerk. I’m the real thing.”
“That’s what he probably thought, too.”
Around the next corner, he found a challenge he hadn’t anticipated awaiting him. He released a sigh. “Great. They’re having a party.” The only route to his target ran across an arched wooden bridge and through a courtyard. Food and drink booths covered the span, with the space between them filled with drunk revelers in ornate masks wandering around.
Kayleigh's grin said it all, but she added to it with a wry comment. “See? You set up the universe like that, and the universe smacks you down.”
Chapter Nine
His companion said, “I do love a party.”
Deacon frowned at the press of bodies ahead. “Yeah, except this is almost certainly a party filled with enemies in disguise.”
Kayleigh laughed. “You mean this isn’t an online gathering of tech people who are too introverted and antisocial to meet in real life?”
“First, ow. Second, no. My systems are telling me that most or all of these are bots. There might be some infomancers hidden among them, or maybe even a lonely systems administrator participating as an avatar, but it’s there as a defensive measure.
“Why?”
He was already scanning the sky, turning to look in all directions, and deploying countersurveillance programs. “Distraction. Confusion. Hang on a sec while my bots do their thing.”
It was a few seconds before results flowed into his mind. In the real world, it was data scrolling past his eyes. In the computer simulation, it was intuition and pattern recognition, his magic taking the information and transforming it into his character’s feelings.
“Okay. The bridge itself is a trap. Sensors all over. They’re trying to funnel intruders in a specific direction, which is why they built the place with only one obvious access. The party, at least on the bridge, is there to make us less likely to notice the other stuff.”
Kayleigh nodded. “It’s clever. You have to give them that.”
“I don’t have to give them anything. Jerks, all of them jerks.” He inevitably fell into his character during missions, blending his personality with whatever his avatar was supposed to be.
In this case, he was an assassin. Serving the cause of justice in the end, sure, but not someone with any compunction about murder when killing was necessary. He’d played the game through in stealth mode, where the enemies lived, and in chaos mode, where every foe died in particularly bloody fashion.
This run against the government server presented similar choices. I’ll have to go hard eventually, but I’m not setting foot on that bridge. He led Kayleigh back along the route of their approach.
As soon as they were out of the partygoers’ line of sight, he climbed over the wall separating them from the beach and dropped stealthily down to the sand. His companion rippled into place beside him. She asked, “What’s the plan, man?”
He lifted his hands, and climbing spikes glittered on them. Outside the simulation, his programs would be engaging the system’s defenses, poking and prodding for weaknesses. They’d find him a path through and make sure the defenders were unable to detect his intrusion. “We pretend we’re Spider-Man.”
Kayleigh clapped. “Excellent. Rath is going to be upset that he missed this.”
Deacon chuckled. “Well, when the new gaming console I bought him finally gets off back order, he’ll have all the Spider-Man he wants.” He strode forward to the underside of the bridge. Reaching up as far as he could, he used the climbing spikes to get a handhold, stabbing them deep into the mortar between the bricks. If I tried this in the real world, likely the stuff would’ve crumbled, and I’d have an eyeful of dust.
That wasn’t a concern here since the whole thing was one giant metaphor. As long as the programs did their work, he would be fine. His climbing effort was the simulated representation of his fingers dancing across the keyboard and his mind adapting to the real-time situations his computer systems encountered.
He kicked up with one boot, which now had a large climbing spike attached. It stabbed into the mortar and held. He rammed in the points on the other hand, then, with a deep breath, the other boot. He was hanging at a slight backward angle from the arc that made up the start of the bridge.
That part wasn’t hard. What would be difficult was crossing the river upside down without letting vertigo or the natural fear of being above water that probably held the computer equivalent of piranha and sharks get to him. He made his way slowly, remaining as silent as he could, given the need to stab metal into soft stone repeatedly. The distance to the opposite shore dwindled in a series of releases, stabs, and releases again, the pattern seeming endless as he focused on the actions.
Finally, he was close enough to the other side to drop to the ground. He’d traversed the bridge safely, which was cause for a slight celebration, but that was only the first part of the plan. Laughter from the courtyard above filtered down, and he shook his head. “Of all the nights to have a party.”
Kayleigh, who’d been floating beside him during the transit and was now next to him on the rocky soil, replied, “The party would be every night, right? If it’s a defensive tactic?”
“You’re accurate, but you’re also messing with the illusion. When inside the simulation, it’s best to spend most of your time acting like it’s real.”
“Including complaining about things that aren’t actually real?”
“Shut it.” He concentrated for a moment, activating several programs he’d prepared against the need to hide in plain sight, and his clothes changed. His initial plan for the tower had been to go in disguised as a guard, but that would be more conspicuous than appearing as a random party guest. His leather armor and cloak disappeared, replaced by a fine velvet tunic and trousers. Polished shoes and a slouchy hat finished the look.
Kayleigh observed, “This game could use some serious fashion advice.”
“Hush or I’ll disconnect you.” He planted a smile on his face and strode boldly toward the stairs that led upward. He passed guards along the way, nodding at them as if they were a lower rank than he was and as if he had every right to be in that place at that time. They didn’t react, so he wasn’t forced to use the daggers hidden inside his clothes.
Upon reaching the courtyard, he snagged a tankard from a table, pretended to drink from it, and milled around aimlessly. At least, that’s how it would appear to anyone observing his actions. In reality, he’d refocused all of his programs on conquering the doorway that led into the tower and was killing time while they worked. The guards kept it locked, and he needed it not to be.
He was fully confi
dent his bots could figure out the encryption and open the way but grew more nervous with each passing second that the door stayed closed. He sensed the guards taking an interest in him and continued to behave normally, joining a conversation with two other men who scowled at his approach but didn’t otherwise react, too polite to tell him to go away.
Finally, he heard the click of the door’s bolt sliding back, and he called upon a special program. Out above the water, fireworks suddenly burst into view, the sound of the explosions and the brilliant visual display capturing the attention of everyone at the party. He slipped inside the tower while they were distracted, and the door closed and locked behind him.
Its interior was far less impressive than its exterior. A rectangular staircase climbed along the outer walls. High above, it disappeared into the roof of the large open area, which was probably also the floor of another room. The information he wanted would doubtless be there. He said as much, and Kayleigh asked, “How do you know?”
He shrugged as he climbed the stairs, his outfit transforming back into the assassin’s gear as he released the camouflage programs. “This whole thing is a metaphor for the computer system we’re invading. We’re after specific information, and no matter where it actually is in the real world, for us, it will be up in this tower since that’s the central locale for the simulation. The number of stairs we have to climb probably connects to the difficulty my programs are having in getting us into it. The distance may change as we’re walking.”
His companion shook her head. “This is super weird. You know that? I knew you were odd, but this is pushing the boundaries, even for you.”
He laughed. “Like you’re one to talk.” He drew his sword in his right hand and readied the pistol crossbow in his left. “Not sure what we’re going to find at the top, but I’d guess it won’t be friendly.”
“Anything I can do?”
He chuckled. “Well, I’d tell you to be quiet while I deal with whatever is up there, but you asked about things you can do, and it’s quite obvious silence isn’t something you’re physically capable of.”
Kayleigh's avatar stuck her tongue out at him. “Har, har, har.”
“See? Proof.” The surrounding reality rippled suddenly, and when things reverted to normal, they were only a dozen steps away from their destination. He drew a deep breath and dashed up the final stairs, holding his sword in a high defensive position angled over his head.
His instincts proved their value once again as a descending blade clanged off his before he was fully in the room. Deacon dove aside and rolled to his feet in time to deflect another blow. He tried to bring his crossbow in line, but it flew from his hand as his opponent’s second weapon slammed into it. He scowled. “Those swords are way too big for you to dual wield them with that musculature.”
His foe, a slightly built woman in a geisha’s outfit complete with the painted face, laughed. “Oh, but you’re in my reality here.”
Deacon shook his head. “Our reality.” Reaching out with his magic, he grabbed the armor stand in the corner and threw it at her. The geisha danced nimbly aside in a whirl of skirts, and he took stock of his surroundings. The room seemed to be medieval Japan, complete with the paper walls and tapestries that were stereotypical of the setting. His opponent had a matched katana and tanto, both longer than they should be.
He summoned a new element to his costume, gauntlets with curved projections modeled after Christopher Nolan’s Batman films. He used them to block her strikes, catching her off blade with one and giving a deft twist to send it flying away. Single sword against single sword, they marched back and forth across the space. She struck high, and he lifted his blade in defense. Her next attack was low, and he leapt over it with ease.
Deacon was devoting the first part of the battle to figuring out her style and saw a weakness immediately. While she was good with the swords, that was all she was good at with, suggesting the human on the other end either wasn’t as skilled an infomancer as him or wasn’t an infomancer at all, but simply a defensive operative. He swung high to draw her blade upward, then snapped out a kick that caught her in the stomach.
She flew across the room, defying the laws of gravity, and smashed through one of the paper walls. A foot behind it was the tower's stone, and when she struck it, the sword fell from her hand. He reached out with his telekinesis and grabbed it before it hit the floor. He pulled it toward him, stopped it in midair, turned it, and hurled it back the way it had come. It impaled the geisha in the center of her torso, and she screamed in anger rather than pain as she pixilated and disappeared.
Kayleigh said, “What did you do?”
Deacon walked toward a small ornate box, like a tiny treasure chest, that rested on a pedestal along the wall to his left. “Disconnected the user from the system with an overflow of data. Basically, the same thing hackers use to knock out websites, but much more sophisticated.” He opened the coffer and held up a cat statue, shining gold and covered in gemstones.
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “That’s it. Let’s get out of here.” He kicked the meat-space button under his desk that served as an emergency disconnect and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. His body hurt like it always did after such an episode. It wasn’t as if he worked his muscles, but somehow his mind made it seem like he had.
He turned and cracked open a soda, drinking the entire thing down in a single guzzle. He opened another and sipped that one. When he’d lubricated his mouth enough to talk again, he said, “I think I’m going to have to find a new game for a while. That one has some harsh connotations now.”
Kayleigh nodded as she pulled off the VR helmet. “I hear Candyland online is nice.”
He laughed, the dissipating stress making it louder and longer than it should’ve been, given the stupidity of the joke. “Yeah, maybe I’ll try that out.”
“Should we wake the boss?”
He shook his head. “We have the data, but we still have to decrypt it. My bots will get to work on it. Should be ready sometime in the early morning.” A yawn overtook him. “Now, time for even the invincible to sleep.”
Kayleigh lifted an eyebrow. “Just sleep?”
He grinned at the beautiful woman that he still couldn’t believe was willing to date him. “Well, if you have something better in mind, I’m certainly open to suggestions.”
Chapter Ten
Diana stepped out of the shower and stared at herself in the bathroom’s small mirror. I’m not old enough to have those wrinkles at the corners of my eyes. Stupid job. She headed out into her bedroom to get dressed, continuing to grumble mentally about work, life, all of it.
Her anger at discovering the government was keeping such a close eye on them, obviously with malicious intent, had sent her into a frenzy of training the night before. She’d pushed herself until exhaustion had claimed her, barely making it into her bunk before losing consciousness.
Today, she felt strangely hollow as a result, like she was a skin shell with a void inside it. It was better than holding all that anger within her, but she’d lost her sense of equilibrium. I doubt I’m likely to regain it anytime soon. Every time I think of those bastards having surveillance on us, I want to grab someone by the throat and shake them until their head pops off.
She sighed and grabbed her normal base outfit of beat-up tactical pants and a black tank with a well-worn button-down uniform shirt on top of it. This one sported the logo of Two Worlds Security, the company they’d run as a way to disguise their actions in Pittsburgh. Different times. Her last check-in on James Maxis and Vicki Greene, affectionately known to her team as Starsky and Hutch, had been positive.
Diana and Bryant had set up the company to be a real thing, tied to their presence but not part of it, and those two were handling its continuing operation well. They kept the profits, and she and her team earned a little off-the-books revenue by supplying them with the weapons, ammunition, and intelligence that made it all possible. The arrangement
worked out for everyone. Except, apparently, the government. She sat down to pull on her most comfortable boots, her oldest pair with only a knife in each, the hilts sticking up a bit but covered by her loose pant cuffs.
She headed for the commissary and grabbed one of the large travel mugs full of coffee always ready in the morning and a pair of breakfast sandwiches from a warming tray. Local supply was nonexistent in Antarctica, so someone made a grocery run each week, stocking up on the essentials. Her team members rotated preparing food, cleaning, and the other chores that kept the place running. She stayed out of it, except to say that no, she wasn’t going to take a turn. Yes, she understood that might be annoying to them, and no, she didn’t really care.
She arrived at her office door as Cara did. The other woman looked perfectly put together, right down to her subtly flawless cosmetics, making Diana rethink her decision not to dry her hair. Screw it. I’m tired. I get a break. Her subordinate said, “Morning, boss. Seemed like you were going pretty hard yesterday.”
She nodded. “Yeah, we need to talk.” She opened the door and walked inside. “Close that behind you and have a seat.” Cara complied. “It appears we have some opposition somewhere in the government.”
Cara frowned. “Like a pissed-off senator or something?” They’d faced a lot of that in the early days of their organization.
Diana shrugged and sipped her coffee. “No telling, but from the amount of data they gathered, it’s an operation with some people and tech behind it. That argues against ‘just’ a senator. Maybe a senator with some connections in operations.”
“Military?”
“No idea. Could be. Could be the FBI. Hell, it could be another organization like ours that we haven’t heard about. Can’t trust those political bastards.”
Cara chuckled. “You know, it might be that attitude that’s caused people not to like us, assuming someone saw through your always-pleasant exterior.”
