Third Transmission

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Third Transmission Page 6

by Jack Heath


  Six hesitated, and then hugged him awkwardly. ‘See you when I get back,’ he said.

  ‘Careful!’ Kyntak smoothed down his T-shirt where it had touched the tux. ‘You’ll mess up my outfit.’

  King had arranged a car for Six and Ace to drive to the party; an old six-cylinder ChaoSonic Peak. Six took the lift down to the parking garage to get it.

  Ace was leaning against a pillar, looking at her watch. She wore a shimmering red gown and matching stilettos. Around her neck there was a silver filigree choker with a sparkling diamond pendant. Her curled blonde hair looked the way Six imagined sunshine must have looked in the days before the fog smothered it.

  She glanced over, and saw Six staring. ‘Buzz off,’ she said. ‘I’m meeting someone.’

  ‘Yes,’ Six said. ‘Me.’

  Ace stared for a moment. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, sorry, Six! Jack did a heck of a job on you.’ She moved closer, examining his face. ‘You still look kind of like you, I guess, but in your late twenties,’ she said. ‘Except physically, you’re never going to get that old. So it’s like a window into the future you’ll never have.’

  ‘I like your dress,’ Six said. ‘Where’d you get the diamonds?’

  Ace winked. ‘They’re cubic zirconia. But no-one will get close enough to tell.’

  ‘Can you run in those shoes?’

  ‘Will I need to?’

  ‘Call it professional curiosity,’ Six said.

  Ace slipped off one of the shoes and held it up. Six saw the sole was actually patterned rubber, and there was a fine seam where the heel met the body. ‘Pull this catch, and the heel folds back like this,’ Ace said, demonstrating. ‘And once you take this shield off the toe-end of the sole, it’s as flexible as any running shoe.’

  Six nodded, impressed. ‘Jack’s work?’

  ‘My own design,’ Ace said. ‘But yeah, Jack made them for me a few months ago. I like your tux.’

  ‘I hate it,’ Six said. ‘It took forever to put on. All my other outfits have a hidden zip up the side so I can change quickly.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  Six nodded.

  Ace grimaced. ‘Every time I’ve had to do emergency surgery on you, I’ve cut your clothes off with scissors. If I’d known there was a zip …’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Six said. ‘I usually just sew another zip into the cut.’

  ‘You don’t sew it back together? You sew a second zip?’ Ace shook her head, smiling. ‘You’re a really weird guy.’

  ‘I’m practical. Everyone else is weird.’ Six pushed a button on his keys, and the Peak chirped from a nearby bay.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asked.

  The motor purred as the car rolled up the ramp and out onto the street. The blurry skyscrapers of the City swept by, painted with the dusty haze.

  The drive to the South Coast was going to take at least two and a half hours. Six wished he’d brought an mp3 player to plug into the car stereo. He didn’t listen to music himself, but he’d often enjoyed its conversation-discouraging properties.

  Not that he’d mind talking with Ace. He just didn’t want a hundred and fifty minutes of awkward silence.

  ‘You have family around here?’ he asked. It sounded exactly like what it was – a clumsy ice-breaker.

  Ace looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said.

  Six glanced at her. Had he chosen a really bad topic?

  ‘I used to live in this area with my dad and my stepmother,’ Ace explained. ‘But he left two weeks ago, and she’s been acting pretty weird since. I think it really shook her up.’

  ‘Why did he leave?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He didn’t even say goodbye to me. And she won’t talk about it.’

  The City, Six thought, is a dark and senseless place. And the people who live here are stained by their surroundings. A cruel City creates cruel people, and over time they gradually become a part of it, the way children become their parents.

  He searched for a way to change the subject tactfully. She did it for him.

  ‘So I spoke to King, and he filled me in on the mission.’

  ‘Good,’ Six said, relieved.

  ‘He said it was strictly recon.’

  Six nodded.

  ‘But he also reminded me that your “strictly recon” missions often wind up with me treating you for broken bones and bullet wounds.’

  ‘This isn’t going to be like that,’ Six said.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. For one thing, the guests will be unsuspicious, elderly and unarmed.’

  ‘That’s great, but I was more concerned about the security guards,’ Ace said. ‘Won’t they be suspicious, muscly and armed to the teeth?’

  ‘Yes,’ Six conceded.

  ‘You don’t seem worried.’

  ‘They won’t be looking for us. There will be plenty of high-profile ChaoSonic officials at the event. The security guards will be looking for assassins with piano wire or rebels with explosive vests, not gatecrashers with hidden Geiger counters.’

  ‘In that case, why aren’t you worried about assassins with piano wire or rebels with explosive vests?’

  ‘Because of the security guards.’

  Ace grinned. ‘You’re not fazed at all, are you? You’re really brave, or really dumb.’

  Six shrugged. ‘I’ve done tougher jobs than this.’

  ‘That’s not good logic,’ Ace said. ‘You’re more likely to die in a car crash than a shark attack, but people still get eaten by sharks. Just because this mission is safer than some doesn’t mean it’s safe.’

  ‘I’ve been in car crashes and attacked by sharks, and I’m still standing,’ Six pointed out.

  ‘I get that you’ve done scarier things than this. But how does that make this not scary? That’s like saying it doesn’t hurt to stub your toe, because you once broke your leg.’

  ‘People have been hunting me my whole life,’ Six said. ‘You can get used to just about anything.’

  ‘So you’re saying you don’t feel fear anymore? You’ve built up a tolerance?’

  ‘I still get an adrenaline rush when someone is shooting at me, or when I’m jumping out of a plane or something,’ Six said. ‘There are still people and things that scare me. I just find it hard to maintain that shivers-up-the-spine type of terror all day every day.’

  Ace smiled. ‘If we’re still alive tomorrow, I’m going to do a psych evaluation on you, write an article about it, sell it to a medical journal and make a fortune.’

  ‘What’s my cut?’

  ‘Hey, I’m the one with the psychology training. I’ll give you 5 per cent.’

  ‘I’m the one who can’t feel fear,’ Six said. ‘I’ll give you 5 per cent.’

  They sat in silence for a while. Six could hear the links in her earrings jingling softly.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ Ace said.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘The not-dying-of-old-age thing,’ she said. ‘How does it feel?’

  Six wasn’t sure how to answer that. ‘It’s better than the alternative, I guess.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Six raised an eyebrow. ‘You think I have a death wish?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ Ace said. ‘I just meant … She paused. ‘Most people believe they’ll get old, and then die of an age-related illness in a hospital somewhere. Some of them are wrong, and they fall off their motorbikes or they drink some polluted water or they get stabbed by muggers. But it’s what they believe. But because of your job, you probably figured there was a 90 per cent chance you’d die on a mission, and a 10 per cent chance you’d die of old age. Am I about right?’

  ‘Actually, 92.3 per cent and 6.8 per cent,’ Six said. ‘With a .9 per cent chance of something else, like a freak accident or a serious infectious disease.’

  Ace gulped back a laugh. ‘You actually calculated the exact percentages?’

  Six shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I was on a stakeout. I wanted t
o keep my mind active.’

  Ace shook her head. ‘Okay. Anyway, now that you know about the telomeres in your DNA, there is zero chance of you dying of old age, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘But it’s also infinitely improbable that you’ll live forever. You’re not immortal, you just don’t get old. So now, you can be pretty certain that you’ll die on a mission – it’s just a matter of guessing which one.’ She paused. ‘Unless there’s a freak accident or a serious infectious disease.’

  Six glanced at her. ‘You’re very blunt.’

  ‘I’m blunt? “I need you to be my date for a party because you’re pretty”,’ Ace said, with quite a credible impression of Six’s voice.

  Six shrugged.

  ‘I don’t bother lying to people who already like me,’ Ace said. ‘It’s a personality flaw, but I think I pull it off. So anyway, you know that you’re going to get shot to death or blown up someday. How does that feel?’

  ‘How you die isn’t as important as how you live,’ Six said.

  ‘No offence, but that’s incredibly cheesy,’ Ace replied.

  ‘It’s still true.’

  ‘Do you find yourself contemplating your mortality before every mission, wondering if it’s going to be your last?’

  ‘No,’ Six said, ‘but I will now. Thanks a lot.’ Behind the joke, he was a little alarmed. He hadn’t realised Ace could read him so well.

  She chuckled. ‘So you don’t sort out your affairs or anything?’

  Six shrugged. ‘My affairs are sorted out. In the event of my death, all my money goes to the Deck, and all my possessions are divided evenly between Kyntak and King.’

  ‘Aren’t there things you’ve never done?’ Ace asked. ‘Things you’d like to do before you die?’

  Of course there are, Six thought. I’ve never played on a sporting team. I’ve never had a normal job. I’ve never had a birthday party. I’ve never been to a cinema. I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve never eaten at a posh restaurant. I’ve never written a poem. Or read one.

  ‘I don’t think about the things I can never have,’ Six said. ‘I just don’t see the point.’

  They parked the car in a dim alley. The bones of long-dead cats crunched under the wheels. Old rainwater, the kind that was not acidic but too polluted to be drinkable, dribbled down the walls.

  Ace put her hand on the doorhandle.

  ‘You’re staying here,’ Six said.

  ‘Then what was the point of bringing me?’ Ace said. ‘To mind your car for you?’

  Six was pushing a clear plastic earpiece into his ear, and tucking the cord down under his collar. ‘I can pass for a security guard,’ he said, buttoning up his coat over the top of his tux. ‘You can’t.’

  Ace nodded reluctantly. ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘Once I’ve got the invitation, I’ll signal you.’ Six opened the glove box and took out a spraycan of sevofluorane, a fast-acting airborne general anaesthetic. He clipped it to his belt. ‘You’ll get out of the car and come over. We’ll take Yu’s car, and drive the rest of the way to Allich’s facility.’

  ‘Won’t they try to stop –’

  Six looked her in the eye.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Sorry, dumb question. Good luck.’

  Six got out of the car. The alley smelled like mould and motor oil. He walked back to the main street carefully, trying to avoid standing in the grimy puddles. He didn’t want to look – or smell – suspicious when he arrived at the cocktail party.

  He had chosen the location very well. While most of the guests would be driving to the Tower from the airport, Ciull Yu was a local – he should be the only guest taking this dim side street. But Six couldn’t rule out the possibility that another car had chosen an intentionally obscure route, or that a group of civilians might come this way. He’d have to stay alert.

  He could hear the dull crump of grenades exploding in the distance, and the crackling of machine-guns on the breeze. Apparently ChaoSonic had resumed its attack on the rebels.

  This is a relatively safe corner of the South Coast, he told himself. But relatively is a relative term.

  He’d been waiting only six minutes before a dark limousine appeared at the end of the street. Six took a deep breath. You can do this, he told himself. Then he walked out into the middle of the street.

  The limo eased gradually to a halt in front of him. Six held up one hand in a stop gesture, and raised his wallet with the other. There was no badge in it, but he figured they wouldn’t be able to see at that distance anyway.

  He approached the driver’s side, keeping his head tilted slightly sideways so the occupants could see his earpiece. The window hummed downwards.

  ‘Can I help you?’ the driver asked. He was bulky, bald, and where his sleeves rode up his forearms Six could see a garden of tattoos along his wrists. There was a tinted glass barrier separating him from the passengers.

  ‘Sorry to slow you down, sir,’ Six drawled. ‘I’m doing perimeter security for tonight’s event, and I’m going to need to verify the authenticity of your invitation.’

  ‘Don’t they check that at the door?’

  Six casually put his hand in his coat, not like he was drawing a gun, but like he was preparing to draw it. ‘This is a dangerous part of town, sir. Several high-profile guests will be in attendance. Event protocol has been established to minimise the risk of a car-bomb incident. I’m going to have to ask you again for your invitation.’

  The driver bought it. He hit a key on the dashboard, and the barrier rolled down. ‘Excuse me, Mr Yu –’

  Six put his palm across the back of the driver’s head and dragged it forwards. The driver’s cheek slammed against the wheel, and the horn blasted for a second. Six whipped out the can of sevofluorane and sprayed it through into the passenger compartment. There was a screech of alarm from the back seat.

  Six jumped back from the car, sneezing wildly. The spray was designed for quick blasts to the face, not fumigating whole vehicles. He could hear someone fumbling with the doorhandle from the inside. Then the noise stopped.

  Six drew his Parrot and crouched low. He had to confirm that the passengers were unconscious. Holding his white handkerchief over his mouth and nose with his other hand, he slowly approached the passenger door.

  No sound from inside. No visible movement behind the tinted windows.

  Six pulled the door open as suddenly as he could and clamped the handkerchief back over his mouth. It took him a split second to see a woman unconscious on the floor of the car, and Ciull Yu sitting in the rear corner, an oxygen mask over his mouth and a Raven X59 pistol in his hand. It was pointed at Six’s head.

  Blam! Blam! Yu didn’t get a chance to pull the trigger. Two rubber bullets hit him in the face, one slamming into his forehead, the other cracking his mask. Six was already retreating away from the leaking anaesthetic gas as Yu slumped to the floor, his pistol tumbling from limp fingers.

  Okay, he thought. Phase one complete. He beckoned towards the Peak in the alley, and Ace stepped out immediately. Six leaned through the driver’s window of the limo as she walked over, pushing a key to roll down all the other windows. The car was no good to them if they couldn’t breathe the air inside without passing out.

  ‘So far so good?’ Ace asked.

  ‘So far,’ Six grunted. He opened the passenger door and dragged the unconscious woman out. Patted down her dress. No ID. He glanced back into the limo, but there was no sign of a purse.

  ‘Okay,’ Six said. ‘Deck intel says Yu is not married. He made the RSVP for himself plus one, no name for the guest. We have no idea who this woman is.’ He hefted her over his shoulder. ‘So when we get to the party, use any name you like. Except your own, of course.’

  Ace nodded. She watched him carry the woman to the dumpster in the alley.

  ‘Is that really necessary?’ he heard her ask. ‘She’s probably already having the worst date of her life.’

  Six shrugged, and put the wom
an down behind the dumpster rather than in it. He looked back at Ace.

  ‘Good enough,’ she said. She reached into the car, grabbed Yu’s shoulders, and dragged him out onto the road.

  Six searched Yu’s clothes. He found the invitation, and pocketed it. He also found a phone, which he threw as far as he could. It vanished into the night sky, and landed too far away to hear the impact.

  By the time they’d hidden Yu and the driver behind the dumpster, the breeze had flushed the sevofluorane out of the car. Six and Ace returned to the limousine, climbed into the driver’s cabin, and resumed their journey towards the party.

  The launch was well disguised. The Tower had no halogen lights, no red carpet, no banner that said welcome. There were two security guards standing by the big iron doors, and Six knew they were there every night.

  Allich wouldn’t want to attract too much civilian attention. Not in this part of town.

  Around the corner there was a long line of black cars, expensive but not flashy. Evidently the other guests had parked here and walked back to the entrance. Six drove to the front of the line and pulled up beside the kerb.

  Ciull Yu and his guest had had a chauffeur – it would seem suspicious if Six and Ace emerged from the driver’s compartment. They climbed through the window into the passenger’s cabin, and then stepped out the rear doors. It would appear as if they were leaving their driver to wait for them.

  Ace’s heels clicked against the sidewalk as they strolled towards the party. Six could feel eyes on them from behind tinted windows as they walked past the other limousines.

  ‘You ready for this?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Ace said. She laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder.

  Six frowned. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘The people watching us,’ Ace said, smiling. ‘We’re supposed to be partygoers, remember? You look like you’re on your way to a funeral.’

  ‘I have years of field experience,’ Six protested. But he forced a smile anyway. She was right – they had to blend in.

  The guards stared as they approached. One was twice as tall as Six, the other twice as wide. Superhuman or not, they looked like they could pummel him into a fine paste.

 

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