by Jacob Whaler
Make him pay! Make him pay! Fifty dollars every day!
In spite of his efforts to relax, Jedd’s body stiffens and his fingers wrap tighter around the metal tube in his left hand.
Taking a deep breath, he walks forward, eyes on the crowd.
Most of them wear orange jerseys with black numbers painted on the back. Here and there among the crowd, he spots the massive arms and shoulders of bodies with illegal tissue grafts. Faces painted red. All body hair carefully removed.
Chemheads.
Strung out on cocktails of near-lethal drugs that keep the grafts from dying and sloughing off, the unfortunate side effect is that they live in a hyper-aggressive stupor, leaving a trail of death and mayhem wherever they go.
Oh yeah, and they’re all female.
Welcome to the Tribe.
Hugging the shadows, he slips the metal tube down the back of his shirt so the tip is just protruding above his shoulder. Then he walks forward to see what kind of trouble Joey is in tonight.
Joey is standing in the middle of a ring, surrounded by the chanting chemheads.
Make him pay! Make him pay!
A large specimen of humanity stands next to Joey, holding him in the air with one fist wrapped into the front of his shirt. His whole body squirms, feet swinging freely below.
“You got ten seconds to give it back, kid.” The bright orange eyes of the woman display double black dots in the middle, like figure eights. She lifts Joey higher off the ground and stares up at him, the top of her shoulders just grazing the bottom of her earlobes.
“I didn’t take it,” Joey says.
With the fist pressed into his chin, his words are a whisper an octave higher than normal. Mimicking falsetto voices ripple through the ring.
The woman looks around and raises her other hand. The chanting stops. She faces Joey, who still hangs from her fingers.
“They call me Fuse, as in short. Any idea why?”
Joey looks down in bewilderment, shaking his head.
“Because when people light me up, things explode real fast. And they say you took it.” Fuse points at two burly Tribe members standing a couple of meters away. “They say they saw you grab the vial and run. It’s expensive stuff. Street value at least 2,000 IMUs.” She shakes her fist, and Joey’s whole body shivers again, like a fish dangling by the gills.
“Search me.” Joey’s voice is a near-silent croak. “I never took nothing.”
A woman steps forward out of the ring. She’s got a bright green face with a thick black line running down the middle from forehead to chin, dividing it neatly into two halves. “I saw it.” She belches loudly. “The little filth slipped into the Teepee, grabbed it and ran. He had it in his grimy little hands.”
Fuse cranes her neck around and looks squarely at Joey. “That’s going to cost you a kidney.”
“I only got one left,” Joey screams. “Gave the other to my mother.”
The crowd laughs.
“Put him down.” Jedd steps forward from the edges of the ring into the center. He speaks in a firm voice, devoid of hesitation. “There's been a mistake.”
Fuse tightens her grip on Joey and turns. “Let me guess. You’re his mother.”
More raucous laughter from the Tribe.
Jedd shakes his head. “His parents are dead. I’m his . . . guardian.”
“Really? You aren’t doing a very good job of guarding him, are you? Which makes you responsible for what he stole.” Fuse looks around the ring for approval and finds it in vigorous nods.
All eyes turn to Jedd. Knuckles and spines crack. Hands clench into fists.
“I’ll gladly pay whatever the damages are . . . if you can prove the crime.”
“What do I look like, a lawyer?” The woman releases Joey.
He drops to the ground and lands on all fours, like a cat.
Two large bodies grab him by the shoulders.
Fuse takes a step closer to Jedd, puckers her lips and spits a wad of green goo on the pavement. “The Tribe says he took the vial. That’s all the proof I need. Give me the 2,000 IMUs, or I kill the kid. And you.”
A smirk slides across half Jedd’s mouth. “You’re asking for a lot of cred. A month’s wages.”
“You got the money or not?”
The ring closes in. Carbonite bars and chains slip out of pockets. The Tribe beams as if they are one entity. Jedd senses their bloodlust rising up.
“Wait just a minute, ladies. Please.” Jedd raises his arms, palms up.
“We could have a lot of fun with you.” Fuse grins wide enough to show her green teeth and sweeps her eyes over Jedd from head to toe. “A fine specimen of masculinity.”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. Just give me the boy, and I’ll come back with the money.” He notes the exact position of the two women holding Joey, the way they are leaning casually to one side, most of their weight balanced on a single foot.
A couple of blasts from the stunner on his back should take care of them. As for Fuse, he’s seen her kind before. Huge upper body. Skinny legs. A well-placed kick to the side of the knee should shatter the joint.
The others are a problem. Assuming he’s counted correctly, there’s close to fifty of them. More are probably on the way. The Tribe isn’t known for being nimble on its feet, but if one of them lands a solid blow with a chain or a club, it could get ugly.
Where’s Ricky, anyway?
Jedd senses the Tribe on the brink of converging. He looks at Joey, finds his eyes and winks.
One, two, three—
Slowly reaching over his head, Jedd’s fingers stretch out to find the stunner, poking out of his shirt behind his neck.
Only there’s nothing there but empty air.
“Looking for this?” A woman on Jedd’s right smiles broadly to show a half dozen blue teeth. The rest are missing. She holds the stunner in two hands and snaps it in half over her knee, letting the pieces fall to the ground.
“Your plan just failed, Loverboy.” Fuse slips a long dagger from under her shirt and steps closer. “Watch carefully.” The point comes up and slides down her cheek. Beads of blood form like bubbles on the pale skin.
Jedd’s eyes peel open when he sees it’s green. Before he can react, there’s a sting in his neck. Must be a bug. The massive Fringe variety. Reaching a hand up, he scratches the bite. And rubs against the dart.
“Got it from the Peruvian Mafia. It’s called Numb-All.” Fuse motions to the side with her chin. “Works in seconds. Doesn’t last long.”
Following her gaze, Jedd sees a short woman standing with a blowgun to her lips. A wave of relaxation rolls over him. He tries to look back at Fuse, but his muscles don’t get the message. He can’t move.
“Don’t worry. It won’t kill you. In fact, it’s harmless. Helps to keep you still for a few minutes until we get this all sorted out.” Fuse takes a couple of steps to the side, coming into Jedd’s view. “We want you to be alive. Makes it much more fun. Should be worth every penny of the 2,000 IMUs the little filth stole from us.”
“Give him to us now, Fuse!” A deep voice from somewhere behind Jedd bellows. “We like ’em fresh.”
“Be patient, ladies.” Fuse wipes the blade on her shirt, making sure Jedd can see it. “The question is, where to start.”
“In the middle!”
With only his eyeballs able to move, Jedd follows Fuse’s gaze down.
“Let’s save the best for last.” Fuse reaches and lifts Jedd’s limp arm high enough for him to see. The tip of the blade drops half a centimeter into the flesh near his wrist and draws a red line to his elbow.
No pain. No sensation at all.
Jedd stares at the knife. All along its cutting surface, the blade is a gray blur.
Catching his glance, Fuse brings the knife close to his eyes. “I can tell you’ve never seen a nano-vibronic edge. Cuts through steel like it’s wax. Meat is a joy to carve. But don’t worry. We’ll keep pumping you full of Numb-All. You won’t fee
l a thing until there’s nothing left but bone.” She looks over at Joey. “And then we’ll do the kid.”
Jedd’s heard the stories about what the Tribe eats but never believed them. Now he does.
He screams for Ricky, but the only sound that comes out is a dry exhale.
The blade drops down, out of sight.
Jaxes go off everywhere, glowing, ringing, vibrating, shouting in a babel of tones.
A woman in front of Jedd whips her jax out. A green hologram jumps above it. “Kilroy’s Boys on their way. They don’t like us in their territory. We have two minutes to leave before they come take us down.” A tremble runs through the crowd. Eyes focus on jaxes. They all seem to have the same message. “Wait!” the woman says. “Look at this. A new shipment of bioweave fresh from the genlabs in Undertown just hit the Fringe. High quality synthetics. They’re giving away free ab grafts at Sharkies to the first hundred takers!”
All eyes focus on Fuse.
She turns a cold stare on little Joey. “You have two hours to come up with the 2,000 IMUs. Don’t try to run. We’ll find you. And next time we won't use the Numb-All.” She lifts her head and sweeps her gaze around the ring. “To Sharkies!”
The Tribe marches off, leaving Jedd and Joey standing face to face. They stare at each other with open mouths. Jedd teeters, then collapses to the ground.
“How’d that happen?” Joey wipes his eyes. “I thought they were going to kill you. Then me.”
Jedd moves his lips but can’t talk.
There’s a shuffle in the shadow of a half-open door a few meters away. “They were.” Ricky steps out into the dim light holding a glowing jax in his hand. “If I hadn’t gotten here in time to hack their jaxes, you’d both be stains on the pavement right now. Brains win over brawn. Every time.”
Five minutes later, Jedd sits up on the pavement. His whole body itches with burning fire as the Numb-All wears off.
“Nasty cut.” Ricky runs his finger with yellow ointment down the red line on Jedd’s arm. “Figured we might need this for Joey. That she-monster had a nano-knife. Nasty weapon. Could have lopped your arm off with the flick of a wrist. Good thing this wasn’t deep. Should heal in no time.”
Slowly pushing himself up to a standing position, Jedd reaches out to squeeze Joey’s shoulder. “You took it, didn’t you?”
“Took what?” Then he pulls a green vial out of a pocket on the inside of his torn shirt. “This?”
“C’mon kid.” Jedd slips the vial out of Joey’s fingers and ruffles his hair. “Haven’t I taught you better? You got a lot to learn if you want to live to see twenty. Lesson number one: never steal from the Tribe. Lesson number two: if you do steal, don’t lie about it. Lesson number three: if you do lie about it, have an exit strategy that doesn’t require your friends to die. The ladies won’t be so kind next time.”
“Give me back the vial.”
“Not a chance.” Jedd tosses the green tube over Joey’s head to Ricky. “This is going straight back to the Tribe. Through one of our connections. And you’re going straight back to Ms. Murphy’s place. Where you belong.”
“Ah, c’mon, Jedd.” Joey rolls his eyes. “You know I hate Murf. She won’t let me do nothing.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Ricky walks to an open alley. “The ladies won’t be happy when they find out Sharkies is fresh out of bioweave.” He lowers his voice. “Returning the vial might not be enough.”
“I’ll handle it,” Jedd says.
Ricky shakes his head. “What if they know where we live?”
“Like I said.” Jedd drapes his arm around Joey. “Let’s get the kid back to Murphy’s. I’ll handle the rest.”
8
LAST UNIVERSAL COMMON ANCESTOR
I have her now.
Mercer watches as Qaara stares at the black mass resting on his palm, the tiny jewel sitting in the open compartment in its side.
A palpable interest is evident in her beautiful eyes.
“What just happened? How did that little jewel come out of the rock?” Her hands slip out of her pockets. She stares into Mercer’s face.
“Good.” Mercer pinches the green jewel between his thumb and index finger. “Do I have your attention?”
“Full and undivided.”
“I know what you’re thinking. You think this is all a trick. How could this rock and the green jewel—advanced technology—be found imbedded in a layer of 3.5 billion-year-old rock?”
Qaara nods. “It had crossed my mind.”
“To answer your question, I’ve upgraded your security clearance.” Mercer tosses Qaara a clear memory cube. “Feel free to access the files under the LUCA Project for some background reading.”
“LUCA?”
“It’s all documented in the files.” Mercer turns his hand and lets the rock slide onto a nearby table. “It describes our efforts to analyze this artifact, discover its composition and open it. For now, you’ll have to take what I’m saying on faith.”
“I’m not used to working on faith.” Qaara leans back against the window. "But the story is fascinating. Is there more?”
So much more, Mercer thinks.
He caresses the green jewel with his fingers. “For now, what I have is bits and pieces of a story that’s difficult to believe, even for me. I need you to fill in the blanks.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“For starters, we’ve analyzed the orbit of the Cloud.”
“The one that’s taken over the Mesh and has the whole world thinking the end times have come?” Qaara pulls out her jax and scans the news headlines. "The president tried a little too hard to sound confident in her public announcement today. That’s enough to worry anyone. But what does the Cloud have to do with this rock of yours?”
“Everything, actually. A select inner circle here at Genesis has known about the Cloud for years. For obvious reasons, we’ve kept it secret. Our internal experts charted its long orbital trajectory through the Milky Way and found something interesting. Any guesses on how much time has elapsed since the last time Earth passed through the Cloud?”
“I’m no astrophysicist. How could I possibly—” Qaara stops and smiles. “You’re kidding. Could it be 3.5 billion years? The same as the age of the rock layer where you found this jewel?”
Mercer nods. “Give or take a couple million years. A rather strange coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“OK.” Qaara stands up. “You’ve got my complete attention now. For real. What are you trying to tell me?”
“I think you better sit down. What I’m about to say is for your ears only.” Mercer glances over his shoulder. “I can’t emphasize that enough. The men outside the door are here to help me impress upon your mind the importance of keeping this discussion, and that memory cube, absolutely confidential. If you ever—”
“Mr. Mercer.” Qaara pulls up a chair. “I get it. And I am duly impressed with your storm troopers outside the door, so if that was your intent, you've succeeded. All of this will be kept strictly under the radar, as they say. That’s my job. Now please tell me the rest of the story. I’m dying to hear it.”
Mercer’s eyebrows rise. The last time he was spoken to in such an abrupt and direct manner was by his father, just before he died.
He finds it refreshing, especially coming from Qaara.
“OK,” Mercer says. “Where shall I start?”
“You called this the LUCA Project,” Qaara says. “What a strange sounding word. What does it mean?”
“Last Universal Common Ancestor.” Mercer crosses his legs and leans back. “The most recent organism from which all living things are descended. A basic hypothesis in evolutionary biology.”
Qaara nods, letting her eyes wander the room. “And what does that have to do with our 3.5 billion-year-old rock, this green jewel or the Cloud that will soon overtake Earth?”
“It all runs together.” Mercer’s face relaxes into a slight frown. Now is the hard part. Making her believe. “You�
�re going to find this all exceptionally hard to swallow, so brace yourself.”
“Ready.”
Mercer draws in a deep breath. He brings the green jewel to eye level and examines it like a jeweler assaying a diamond. “This artifact was produced by a civilization as technologically advanced as ours, perhaps more.”
“3.5 billion years ago?”
“Yes.”
“On Earth?”
“Yes.”
Qaara shakes her head. “It’s not possible.”
Her curt answer triggers an internal flash of rage, but Mercer pushes it back. It’s too early to risk losing Qaara. “Allow me to explain.” Mercer fingers the green jewel. "After much trial and error, we finally figured out what this is. Any guesses?”
“An ancient earring?”
“Not even close. It’s an information storage device, much like our memory cubes.”
“So, you’ve been able to read it?”
“In small part, yes.”
“What did you find?” Qaara leans forward in her chair, eyes focused on the green jewel. “If this really is from some past civilization, it's incredible. Utterly astonishing. It would overthrow all our theories about the origin of—”
Mercer holds up his hand. “We found massive amounts of data, written in a language we couldn’t decipher.”
“But why can’t you just—”
“Allow me to finish.” Mercer feels the anger boiling to the surface at Qaara’s verbal impatience but manages to push it back down again. "It isn’t for lack of trying. The data is so massive, so densely packed, we’ve had three Xunil Clusters churning through it for the last two years. Professor Ye from the Beijing Institution, the world's expert on deep encryption, was directing the work.”
“But didn’t he have a falling out with Genesis Corporation? And die on Everest last month? Something about a severed climbing rope.”
Mercer’s eyes narrow. “A tragic accident. But that’s beside the point.”
“What is the point?”
He’s tempted to tell her how the otherwise quiet Professor Ye had indeed decrypted most of the data on the little green chip and found it so disturbing that he was about to flout Mercer’s orders and publish his findings on the Mesh, a move that Mercer could not and would not tolerate.
