Shango made an eye towards Bentley, speaking in a lower voice, only to her. “I am under no illusions about the dangers this mission can pose. But if you trust your instincts and our lessons, I am confident you can overcome any challenge it may present. Just maintain your focus on our goals.”
“Our goals,” Bentley repeated, knowing now that those words held a different meaning to her than to the others. “Right.”
“I have prepared appropriate gear for you to keep you prepared for any possible complication. You will be equipped with another nano-weave garment, though this one will be better suited to combat mobility than your last one.”
“Thanks for that,” Bentley said, with total honesty. Having to fight in an armored cocktail dress was easily in the top ten of her growing list of things she never wanted to have to do again. “Comfortable shoes, too?”
“Of course,” he confirmed. “You will additionally be given a complement of six unique bit-tools in addition to the subspace device. Bean will see you properly attuned to their use and location on your outfit.”
Shango glanced over at Jelly Bean, as though he expected her to chime in. Instead, she was staring off blankly into space. It was an odd thing to see from her; her eyes didn’t dart back and forth as they did when interfacing with other devices. It was oddly human, like the thousand-yard stare of someone preoccupied with personal matters.
“Bean,” Shango repeated his maligned nickname for her again to get her attention. “Are you present?”
The life returned to Jelly Bean’s virtual eyes. “Oh! Yes, sorry, Captain. All of that will be taken care of.” Her head swiveled to Bentley. “Bentley, could you please join me in the lab immediately after this? So I can get you properly suited up for your trip.”
Shango’s gaze remained locked in her. “Yes, that was what we were discussing. Is something amiss, Bean? Are all systems functional?”
“Yes, Captain,” she replied shortly.
Bentley felt Jade’s eyes on her, and they shared a look of acknowledgment. They both obviously had thoughts on what had Jelly Bean so distracted. Perhaps she’d been listening in on their conversation in the mess hall after all.
“Alright,” Bentley said. “I guess I’m doing this thing.”
CHAPTER SIX
Medical Bay, Aboard the Chesed, Edge of Klaunox-Orion Sector
The research laboratory that Jelly Bean had built into the medical bay at Bentley’s request had become something rather impressive in a very short period of time. One of the far corners that had once housed a pair of beds, an examination table, and an unused rack of medical hand-tools, was now a robust yet compact research facility.
There were several devices Bentley recognized from storage: genetic processors, bio-fabrication tools, and an advanced micro-scanning apparatus. In the middle of it all was where they had been keeping the sword now, sheathed and mounted onto a powerful energy cell that hummed from feedback with the weapon. Clearly parts of it had been taken from reverse-engineering doctor Metzinger’s facility aboard the Geburah. There had been no need for Bentley to be here for getting geared up for her mission, of course, but Jelly Bean had nonetheless directed them to meet there.
“This is really something,” Bentley said to her. “But I’m not going to need the sword for this mission, right? That wouldn’t make any sense.”
Jelly Bean stood over the sword, her eyes blinking while fixated upon it. “Negative,” she agreed. “There are too many mysteries to unlock for it, and too many variables associated with letting it leave the Chesed. However, I have been running extensive tests on both your blood sample and the sword’s construction as you had requested.”
“You have been seeming a little distracted lately,” Bentley noted.
Jelly Bean’s eyes flitted from side to side, almost like she was deciding how to respond. “Yes, it has taken a great deal of processing power,” she said. “I’ve also taken care to partition it from the rest of the Chesed’s databanks. We can’t be sure who is watching, especially now.”
“You mean the androids?”
Jelly Bean simulated a nod. “Or the Geburah, LaPlace’s agents, or even the rebels. But yes, the software capabilities of the Odyssey are of particular concern.”
“I’m surprised you don’t trust them more,” Bentley said. “I mean, isn’t this like finding your people?”
“No!” Jelly Bean’s voice raised emphatically in a way Bentley hadn’t heard from her before. “No, they aren’t the same as me. That would be like me saying you should trust a ship crewed entirely by chimpanzees on account of familial relation.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Bentley asked. “I don’t know what to make of them either, but they’re not animals.”
“No, they aren’t that,” Jelly Bean agreed, but not seeming to mean it in the way Bentley did. “They are considerably more dangerous. Particularly because they seem to wish to masquerade as biological humans. You need to take care.”
“Of course I will,” Bentley assured her. She was taken aback learning that even Jelly Bean harbored some kind of prejudice to other artificial life, and was eager to return to their original matter. “So… The sword?” she asked. “You found something out?”
“Not specifically,” Jelly Bean replied. “The sword itself remains enigmatic, but its relation to your DNA is becoming clearer to me.”
“So something really was done to me?” She felt a chill up her spine at the thought.
“Correct. It appears that your DNA itself has been somehow modulated.”
“Modulated?” Bentley felt herself struggling to understand what that could entail. “What’s that even mean? I’m some kind of mutant?”
“I do not believe mutant is the correct term. The precise methodology is unclear to me,” Jelly Bean admitted. “Human DNA is typically static unless mutation occurs via response to external stimuli. Those changes are then integrated into the structure of the DNA in future use. When I say modulated, I mean to say it seems purpose-directed.”
Bentley liked the implications of these findings less and less the more she learned. But this was her own body, and she knew it was something she couldn’t simply ignore. “So… Genetic engineering? Am I a clone or something?”
“No, those two terms also fail to fully explain both the scope and the nature of what has occurred,” Jelly Bean said, with a hint of sympathy in her artificial eyes and voice. “Both of those refer to the use of pre-existing DNA to send it on a path to a specific, predetermined end. The modulation of your DNA cannot be considered random mutation, as it does seem purpose-directed, but it also cannot be seen as mere genetic engineering, as it is spontaneous and defies prediction.”
“I’m really confused,” Bentley confessed. “What’s all this mean for me? Can I even trust my own body? Am I human? Come on, Jelly…”
“I do not believe this is any cause for concern as it relates to you on a personal level,” Jelly Bean reassured her. “I believe none of this has made you any less human. You have, at your base, natural human genes, and this has led me to believe these changes occurred at some point in the middle of your life. It may be related to your memory loss.”
“And Legba,” Bentley added, recalling the old man taking credit for that constant irritation.
“Likely, especially since the purpose this modulation goes towards seems to be purpose built towards the sword’s operation. Initially I thought that your DNA might be the key to it activating, but the truth seems to be more complex than that.”
“You’re already sounding way too complex,” Bentley said, giving her a nervous smile. “I don’t think it can get worse than that.”
“It’s a matter of great confusion for myself as well. Whatever has been done to you utilizes a kind of science that is alien to any standard notions of biology or the disciplines branching from it. Putting it into the framework of our current analytical tools and medical terminology is extremely challenging.”
“But it
just boils down to my DNA being the key to using the sword?”
“Correct,” Jelly Bean affirmed.
“That’s kind of a roundabout way of doing it, don’t you think?” Bentley considered. “Couldn’t have just used my DNA straight up? Or a retinal scan? Or fingerprints? Or a three-stage confirmation of all of them? Maybe just a good old-fashioned password?”
“All of those options would almost certainly be bypassed by LaPlacian technology,” Jelly Bean noted. “In order to evade use by people with virtually unlimited scientific resources, measures like these would be necessary.”
“Amroth had my blood taken, though,” Bentley recalled. The memory of Metzinger prodding at her with one of his hypodermic claws still made her skin crawl. “Do you think maybe they’ve already cracked the code by now?”
“It would be difficult,” Jelly Bean answered. “Extremely so. But perhaps not impossible given what they have access to. I cannot say with certainty, as I don’t have that level of equipment or even a read on what they might have now.”
Reflecting on that, Bentley almost hoped for their success. After all, if they could handle this mess with the sword using just her DNA, which they already had, then they had no more reason to pursue her. She wasn’t sure if that would stop them, considering the amount of trouble she’d already given LaPlace.
Bentley pulled herself away from her own thoughts. “Thanks for figuring this out at least, Jelly. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jelly Bean replied. Bentley felt like there was something else being unsaid, just from the forced cheerfulness in her tone.
“Is something else wrong?” Bentley asked her upfront. “Anything bugging you?”
“No,” Jelly Bean answered. “Nothing that should concern you. I’ll be continuing analysis and letting you know if I find anything new. For now, though, we should focus on your upcoming operation.”
“Right,” Bentley agreed. She wasn’t sure she believed her, but was just as keen to go off the subject of the sword or her DNA. “Let’s take a look at my new toys.”
+++
Aboard the Chesed, Edge of Klaunox-Orion Sector
Bentley now felt accustomed to the walk through the airlock tunnel connecting the Chesed and the Odysseus. Doing it alone, rather than with Shango, actually made it a little bit more fun. She tested the ground and tried a few jumps and tumbles, finding the springiness of the whole contraption rather agreeable to the whole thing. It might have looked a bit silly, but at the very least she was certain there weren’t any cameras watching her. She was alone, and the more she thought about that for her future, the more refreshing it felt.
Her time alone was short-lived, though, as her personal pace was enough to bring her between airlocks in a matter of minutes. She was greeted at the same decontamination chamber that completed its task before she could make her way from one door to the next. She found herself wondering why a ship entirely of artificial beings would have a more sophisticated decontamination system than the Chesed.
Could androids be germophobes?
The team greeting her there had the same air of eerie perfection to them. It wasn’t nearly as striking to Bentley now that she knew what lay behind it all. The one on point this time caught her eye, though. He had an appearance of an older man, perhaps simulating his early forties, with slightly disheveled hair and a face marked with lines of worry framing energetic hazel-tone eyes.
“Welcome back,” the man said. “Bentley, was it? It’s a pleasure to meet you finally.” He spoke quickly, enough that Bentley didn’t have time to answer in the brief pause he made before continuing. “I am Barnabas. I serve as First Officer here on the Odysseus.”
Bentley examined Barnabas as she came closer to him. She still couldn’t see any evidence that these people weren’t human. “Barnabas, huh?” she said. “Kind of a mouthful. Mind if I go with Barney?”
He looked a bit taken aback by her first question, but answered it with a sudden smile, stifling a little laugh. “I suppose you may,” he said. “I don’t imagine there’s much I could do to stop you.”
“Right on.” Bentley nodded her agreement. “Well, Barney, where to this time?”
Barnabas turned to his left and began to walk. “I’ve been asked to escort you to the captain’s deck,” he told her, motioning for her to follow. “Please, it’s best not to keep the others waiting.”
The elevator he led her onto had the same air of odd craftsmanship that looked equal parts coldly manufactured and lovingly handcrafted. Every side of it was lined with mock-wood framed mirrors, and a mild, quiet music played while they ascended to the ship’s highest deck.
When the mirrored doors opened, Blackfriar could be seen facing away, looking out from the large window that made up his deck’s far wall. It looked like a real window, not just a viewscreen, but thick glass or clear plastic that gave him a direct view out to his ship’s surroundings. He looked like he was meditating upon it all, paying no heed to the others in the room.
When Bentley saw who else was in the room, she thought she could imagine why.
In the central table, leaning against it beside a pushed-aside chair, was Ivor. The rebel captain’s son gave Bentley a disdainful look at her arrival. “They sent you? The little girl? Is this some kind of joke?”
Bentley scowled back at him, knowing she was going to take an instant dislike to the man. She’d had enough of people talking about her like that with Loco, and at least she knew he actually had her back in battle.
“I could say the same,” Bentley said as she made her way towards the table. “I’m surprised daddy let you go off-leash on someone else’s ship.”
“Watch yourself,” Ivor grunted. “I won’t put up with your shit just because you’re a girl. Won’t hold back, either.”
“You’d better hope you don’t,” Bentley shot back. “Otherwise you’ll find out really quick why they sent me.”
Captain Blackfriar turned to face them now. “Please,” he said. “There’s no need for hostilities. We’re allies now, and we will all have much to gain from cooperation. I believe we’ve all agreed on this already.”
“I didn’t agree to shit,” Ivor muttered. “But I respect chain of command. I’ll do what my captain tells me.”
“Of course,” Blackfriar acknowledged. “That is all I ask of you. Please, take a seat. Both of you.”
Bentley pulled out one of the quiltex faux-wooden chairs and sat down, finding it refreshingly comfortable compared to anything on the Chesed. Ivor remained standing, likely in his own little protest to being here with them. Blackfriar paid no mind to it, though, and summoned a holographic model of a space station with a pyramid-like structure onto the center. It was made up of large, exaggerated, tapering layers.
“This is Thralldom station,” he said. “Note the ascending hierarchical structure. It is more than a mere design choice. Rather, it is integral to what the patrons of it call the Meta-Game.”
“We didn’t come here for a fucking history lesson,” Ivor interrupted him. “Think maybe you can get to the point? Specs. Target. Operational conditions. You know, the shit we actually need.”
Blackfriar showed his usual patience at his briefing being both interrupted and negatively critiqued. “Yes, of course,” he agreed. “However, this Meta-Game is an important aspect of operational conditions. All gamblers at Thralldom must enter from the bottom floor.” He pointed at the model and the lowest level was highlighted. “The purpose of this game is to ascend. However, this is purely an invitation-only affair. You must, through your performance in the games of the prior floor, get brought up to the next. As this kind of exclusivity is one of the core features of the casino complex, their security between floors is extremely well-maintained. If they even detect a single life signature on a floor that is unaccounted for in their tally, the games are shut down until it is resolved.”
“So let them,” Ivor argued. “Easier to operate in that kind of chaos.”
/> “Depends on your goal,” Bentley countered. “And if our goal is recon, that just sounds like a really good way of tipping these guys off to the fact that they need to lock down harder. Then we’re fucked, aren’t we?”
Blackfriar spoke in a louder, more boisterous tone, taking control of the room to preempt any more emerging bickering between the two of them. “Our goal, of course, is the next issue,” he said. With a flick of his wrist, the highlight on Thralldom’s model moved up two floors. “We must reach the third floor without raising any suspicion. What we need to retrieve here is no physical object, but rather software. Therefore if we were to force our way in, we could be easily denied it during the ensuing lockdown. This is especially true because the software is integrated directly into the security system of Thralldom’s third level.”
Heist Page 5
