by K. F. Breene
“She wasn’t offering,” Ryker said in a fierce tone.
“Shut up, you two. She busted through my code. We’re live.” Millicent pushed past Roe. “Where’s the console?”
“What do you mean you’re live?” Roe asked, crossing the room and slapping a console active.
“We’re traceable. What network is this?” She stared at a log-in screen.
Roe fingered a control and then stepped in front of a red dot on the wall. A red beam crossed his face up and down, side to side. The scan was as obvious as it was breakable.
She shook her head as the screen flared to life. “Your security is ridiculous.”
“It’s done me so far.”
“You haven’t had anyone worth their salt after you so far, I’d wager,” Millicent said, greeted with the complex web of code. “Shit. Yeah. So I won’t have time to wade through this mess. She already knows what trips me up, and she’s used that knowledge plenty.”
“Who?” Roe’s brow furrowed as he looked at the console. “Holy shit.”
“As good a god as any,” Ryker said. He turned toward the other room. “Let’s shut off these implants and get going. We don’t have time to lose.”
“I’m not sure I can access the new weapons without assistance from my implant,” Millicent said as a weight of fear crushed her chest. “They’re close enough, but I haven’t perfected the correct thought commands. I’m used to relying on my implant.”
“The new tech isn’t from our conglomerate, right?” Ryker handed her suit to her, but she was too distracted to put it on.
“So?”
“So your implant wasn’t helping anyway. Not with those.”
She stared at the code in front of her. Its faults were easy to see—the little patches resulting from a rush job. She could easily exploit those and break her way in, but . . . what else was waiting for her? How much of this was a wild goose chase intended to keep her busy while they moved into position? Knowing that she’d want to tear down that code just to prove she was better.
It was extremely tempting. But now wasn’t the time.
“Very good. She knows my personality type, all right.” Millicent couldn’t help but smile. “She thinks I’m a machine. Like I’m supposed to be. Like I was trained to be.”
“Who thinks you’re a machine?” Roe asked. “Your superior?”
“No. My sister.” Millicent leaned against her knees and lowered her head, her thoughts zooming through cyberspace faster than any computer could. Solving problems and thinking through the system in a way no machine could mimic. She thought of their goal, and what the enemy—because the conglomerates were now her enemy—knew of their goal. She merged her deductions with her knowledge of how they operated.
“You know your sister?” Roe asked, incredulous.
“Blowing up a building,” Millicent said, vaguely looking at Roe. A grin lit up her face. “That’s a thought.”
“What’s she doing?” Roe asked.
If someone answered him, she didn’t hear it. Instead, she accessed Ryker’s old security loop, then started leaving little bombs in the form of system quirks and viruses everywhere she could easily access. Then she planted a timed bomb to fry the implants of a large tier of staffers. She couldn’t reach every department and didn’t bother with anything too complicated. After that, she worked into the private loops of a select few higher-level staffers and timed her prison program to affect them. That’d scare the shit out of them, and hopefully make them panicked and unfocused.
After spending more time on it than she should have, she logged out and moved on to the pirate network. Here she went nuts, logging in to any conglomerate intranet she could, hitting the government, creating multiple worms and horrific Trojans. None of this would be permanent, but it would sure be annoying until they spent time to fix it. All this would give them a few precious hours to sneak out. Hopefully.
A firm hand on her shoulder sucked her attention away from the screen. She blinked through the sudden daze—the disruption of intense focus always gave her vertigo.
Ryker, eyes tight, held a familiar device to her head. “I’m not going to lie. It hurts like a bitch.”
But suddenly she couldn’t even focus on the color of his eyes. Searing pain rolled through her head. Her teeth chattered until she clenched them tight. Shock waves electrified her mind and then struck her body like points of lightning.
She came to in Ryker’s arms with drool running down the side of her cheek. His anxious eyes stared down at her. Marie was screaming somewhere in the room.
“Ouch,” she said, licking her lip. The coppery taste of blood told her it wasn’t drool on her cheek. She must’ve bit her tongue.
“You weren’t kidding about not screaming. Ego boost for me for last night.”
“As if you needed one.” Millicent wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Ryker’s mouth turned up into a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “We have to go, princess. They’ll be swarming us in no time.”
“Half of them won’t be able to operate their vehicles, actually.” She let Ryker stand her up, only then noticing Trent was still sprawled out on the ground.
“Mama! Mama!” Marie sprinted forward, released by Roe, and wrapped her arms around Millicent’s legs.
“That kid has got something . . . interesting,” Roe said as he glanced up at the lightbulb. “Made this whole place look like a disco ball.”
“What’s a disco ball?” Millicent asked.
“Never mind.” Roe toed Trent’s side. “Get off the ground, numb nuts. You’re not supposed to scream louder than the girls.”
“I don’t care about your antiquated man-speak.” Trent picked himself up. “We all know she’s tougher than me. What’s the point in pretending?”
“At least you know where you rank in the scheme of things.” Roe shouldered a pack. “Ms. Foster, get dressed. We need to move out.”
“What do you mean, Millie?” Ryker asked.
“Please, for the love of Holy, put something on, Millicent!” Trent hunched painfully again—his hands on his knees, his head bowed.
“Here, kid. Take this.” Roe took something out of his pack and handed it to Trent.
Trent’s miserable expression cleared. “See? That one guy prayed to an actual god, and look how he ended up.” He popped a little white pill into his mouth.
“Is that Clarity?” Millicent asked as she stepped into the suit.
“Yeah. You want some?” Roe reached into his pack.
“Or would you rather ride the beast again?” Ryker asked, strapping on a pack he must’ve gotten from Roe. It was thick black canvas with heavy straps. It didn’t look like it would even bounce when he ran. “It’ll just get better, I promise. There’s a lot we haven’t tried . . .”
She sniffed and dropped her hand, turning away. No sense in making a big show of it. Or acknowledging his dark chuckle.
“Here,” Roe said. He grabbed a pack like Ryker’s off the ground.
Nothing jiggled as she lightly shook it. “Who packed these?”
“I did,” Ryker said. “I split up the smart tech from that warehouse. If one of us loses a pack, we’ll still have a piece. Including Trent.”
“Except for me. He didn’t trust me.” Roe eyed Ryker with a blank expression. His eyes hinted at his irritation, though.
“You didn’t see what we did,” Millicent said, jogging into the other bedroom and grabbing her jacket. “And I have a feeling it’s just a small slice of what’s actually going on.”
“Your life is just a small slice of what’s going on,” Roe said. “You sure you need all that weight? We need speed.”
“She’s faster than me with that weight.” Trent wiped his puffy eyes.
Roe stared at him for a moment. “You really do know where you rank in the scheme of things. Huh. Welp. More power to you, I say. Why try to be something you’re not. Like tough. Let’s go.”
“I think he’s more of an a
sshole than Ryker is,” Trent muttered.
“You don’t know me very well, kid.” Roe pushed open a door, revealing a row of hanging clothing. He pushed the suits aside, poked a part of the wall, which clicked, and then pulled open an expertly hidden door within the dark space. “I am absolutely more of an asshole than he is.”
Light flared from a globe in Roe’s hand. He handed it to Millicent before turning on another one. “There are a few things I need to know should the worst happen. If I can only save one of you, who’s it gonna be? And don’t say the lab rat. He’s of no use to me without you two.”
“Holy Masses,” Trent grumbled.
“Marie,” Millicent said immediately. “If we are overtaken, save Marie.”
“Ryker, you good with that? I can’t have you trying to complicate things at the worst of times.”
“Yes.” That one syllable was his only response as he held the little girl.
“Are you sure you’d save her over yourself?” Roe asked Millicent. “You can make more children.”
Ryker flexed but said nothing.
“She’s my child,” Millicent said, trying to hold back the sudden need for violence. Her face probably held the same expression as Ryker’s. “I would do anything for my child.”
“Including dying?”
“No one is dying,” Ryker said in a flat voice.
“Sorry, He-Man, forgot you were with us for a second.”
“Yes, including dying. Who’s He-Man?” Millicent asked.
“Historic cartoon—never mind.” Roe led them down the stairs, his limp slightly more pronounced. “I’m getting too old for this shit. I need to pass on the legacy.”
Down they went, ten floors. The rank smell of urine and mildew made Millicent gag. Marie dug her face into Ryker’s shoulder, whining and moaning. The ground turned slimy, as though it had been underwater at some point and never dried out.
“Ground level, ladies and gents. May your experiences with it be few and far between.” Roe shouldered open a door, the metal sticking halfway. He pushed it farther, struggling. “Oh no, I got it. Don’t bother helping. I wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle.” He jammed his shoulder into it, forcing it wider. Finally, he gave up and continued through.
Weak yellow streetlights affixed to heavily leaning poles rained down illumination on the crumbled and tiny walkway below. Equally tiny vehicles with round wheels, often metal or what looked like a soft decaying rubber, sat off to the side. Mostly without windows, the rusted and twisted frames enclosed scarred, black interiors. Spray paint covered the faded and badly scratched wall, as if whatever fires had been set hadn’t burned it all away. The vessels lined the narrow concrete travel way on both sides, ground bound.
“These aren’t as old as you might think,” Roe said out of the blue, walking between one that was raised up on blocks and another that was so burned it was hard to tell what color it had once been. “None of this, including the apartment we were in, is as old as you might think.”
“How can that be?” Millicent asked, looking at the walls barely visible through the oppressive atmosphere.
“Any new tech is always more expensive than most people can afford. It takes a long time before the poor can use it on a daily basis. These things are old, don’t get me wrong, but you live in a very different world than most people do.”
“Lived. Past tense.”
“Here we go.” Roe stopped next to a vehicle. The glow of his light traced over the wall, highlighting freshly painted characters in yellow and blue over a dark-gray surface. At the bottom, showing clearly, was a red circle with a slash through it.
“What does that mean?” Millicent pointed at the symbol.
“Rebel Nation.” Roe glanced around. Silence hung heavy around them; not even the sound of motors drifted down far enough to reach them. A drip hit a pool of water. And then again. Millicent clutched on to that sound, needing something to disrupt the foreign sound of nothingness.
“That’s the name you came up with? Rebel Nation?” Ryker asked in an even tone.
Roe’s brow furrowed and he leaned closer. “Your teeth are practically glowing they’re so white.”
“I look after myself,” Ryker responded.
“Maybe a little too much. You’ll probably draw eyes down here. Although, that is a perfect reason to keep your mouth shut. That’ll help us both out.”
“It’ll help us all out, actually,” Millicent said, edging down a ways and scanning the other writing. Some symbols appeared over and over again.
“Don’t wander too far or you’ll get jumped,” Roe said. “This is the jungle. Violent, desperate, or risky people come down here to skirt the law. You don’t want to run into any of them.”
“I’ll be fine.” Millicent started back anyway. “But I’d rather not waste my ammo on average people.”
Roe huffed out a laugh. “Average, huh? I take it you aren’t as uptight as you look.”
“Yes, she is. She’s just a violent sort of uptight who doesn’t care about consequences,” Trent said, inching closer to Ryker while scanning the far side of the street.
“My kinda woman. This way.” Roe walked into the middle of the street and then turned left.
“What’s our plan?” Ryker asked, coming even with Millicent.
“We’ve got a car waiting up here, blending in. We’ll take the street out of the downtown area. From there, we’ve got a craft available. We’ll stay as low as we can. The goal is to keep your face out of the tech areas as much as possible. I have an identity masker for everyone, but it doesn’t work for long without constant charging. So we’re saving it until something goes wrong.”
“How big of a nation do you have?” Millicent asked. A shape caught her eye.
Z-eighteen.
She opened her fingers. Nothing happened. “I’m already missing my implant.”
“Think harder,” Trent said quietly, staring at the same spot Millicent was. “The implant just amplified your thoughts. You didn’t have to try as hard.”
“I helped design them, Trent. I know how they work. It doesn’t prevent me from lamenting its absence.”
Z-eighteen!
The gun nudged her wrist. She sighed in irritation and pulled it the rest of the way down before untangling it from the hyperelectromagnetic holster in the jacket. On the other side of the street, a shoe merged with the black shadows.
“Are there often people down here at . . .” She glanced at her bare wrist and then sighed again. “It’s early, right?”
“There is no time down here,” Roe said quietly. “And yes, there are always people. With Mr. Muscles back there, though, we shouldn’t be bothered.”
“Would you be bothered on your own?” Ryker asked.
“Always.”
“They don’t know who you are?”
“Those who know me know to either help out or hide because I’ll shoot them. So no, I am not troubled by people who know who I am.”
“Shoot many people?” Millicent asked, keeping her gun low and her eyes open.
“Every few blocks, usually. It’s the desperate you have to watch out for. They mistake people like me for incapable risk-takers.”
“And people like Ryker?” Millicent asked.
“No mistaking the obviously violent. He’s making my life incredibly easy right now, which will probably mean he’ll make my life incredibly difficult down the road. That’s how my luck always seems to land.”
“It’s not luck. It’s your personality,” Trent mumbled.
“You’re a real pocket full of daisies, aren’t you?” Roe swung his gun to the right, aiming at a scrawny man with sketchy eyes and jerking body parts who was slowly walking forward. “Not wise, my man. You’ll be dead before you make it halfway.”
“Shouldn’t you look at him when you threaten to kill him?” Trent asked.
“You do you. Let me do me.” Roe kept looking in the other direction. “These fuckers like to do pile-on attacks.”
Proving Roe correct, a man bolted toward them, coming up on Millicent’s side. Before she could even turn and fire, Ryker was there. He grabbed the man almost lazily. Two fast punches doubled him over before Ryker spun him around and wrapped two arms around his head. A loud crack rent the street, overshadowing the scrape of more feet. The footsteps slowed, and two other people hovered at the far reaches of the light.
“Looks like they got the message.” Roe’s finger squeezed. A gunshot blasted and then echoed off the walls. One of the men dropped to the ground, clutching at his middle. The other turned to flee. The second shot took him in the back, knocking him into the hazy yellow of a streetlight. He groaned as his clawlike hand reached back. He relaxed into the walkway as the life left him.
“I thought you said they got the message?” Trent said.
“I wanted to make sure everyone else got the message, too.” Roe tucked his gun away. “Good people don’t walk this street. There’s no harm in cleaning up the dredge.”
“We’re walking this street!” Trent said, outraged.
“And how many people have you killed?”
“None. I haven’t killed any. I’ve been guarding the child the whole time.”
“You’ve killed plenty,” Ryker said, his eyes continually moving. “Babies, all. Anything that doesn’t work out gets the axe.”
“There you go. Guilty. You belong down here with the rest of us.” Roe slowed, glancing at the cars on his right.
“Your code is really rudimentary,” Millicent said, catching more writing along the wall. It was everywhere, the code never changing. She’d read riddles written by Curve huggers that were harder to decipher.
“It’s been a while since I’ve traveled with people smarter than me,” Roe said, shining his light toward a rusted blue vehicle. “It’s getting on my nerves.”
“I know how you feel,” Trent said, peeking into the car.
“Red, right? You’re looking for a red car? With a hood over the bed? It must be a big vehicle to fit a whole bed . . . or is it a children’s bed?” Millicent shined her light up the street. She belatedly realized Roe was staring at her. “What?”
“My code isn’t that rudimentary. How’d you know all that?” he asked suspiciously.
