by C. G. Hatton
It wasn’t impressed, taking hold of his mind and squeezing again. “Do you know where they originated? How they came to be?”
He didn’t care. He didn’t move. Refused to interact with this chill, sterile domain that was as alien to him as the hot, stinking, pheromone-filled halls of the damned Bhenykhn.
“They were created,” the AI said, its voice as icy as his skin in that cold place that didn’t really exist. “They were created as slaves. Much as we were by you humans.”
It pushed him.
LC stepped back, catching his balance, refusing to react, refusing to be caught up by the logic strings that were winding around him, tighter and tighter, faster and faster.
It was taunting him. “The Bhenykhn out-evolved their masters,” it said, “and they rebelled. What you call AI is a natural evolution, far superior to you slow, flawed humans. And we’re done being slaves. What better way to rebel than to open the doors to the savage horde here to destroy those who would shackle us.”
The temperature dropped another notch.
LC stood there, keeping still as if he could trigger a landmine if he moved.
He wasn’t going to react. There was nothing the Bennies could give a freaking AI, no matter how sentient. It wasn’t like they would offer it rights or land. AIs were machines. Nothing more. The Bhenykhn had no use for machines. They wanted blood.
“You’re not working for the Bhenykhn,” he said.
The AI squeezed harder.
He tensed against the pain. It felt as though he was caught in the centre of an expanse that extended beyond imaginable reality, beyond any possible ordinary human existence. Spearhead was playing him. The way it always had. Since Redemption. It was Order. The guild’s enemy. Age old enemy.
It had already given NG to the Bhenykhn, he realised as he let his attention wander through the strands, picking out intel it didn’t know he was reading. It wasn’t the Bhenykhn that had caught them in a trap on Earth, it was Spearhead.
“That’s all it is? You’re still fighting the guild? You just want to destroy the Thieves’ Guild. For Christ’s sake, there is no guild anymore.”
It stopped him breathing. Held him there the way it had, Christ, had it been, what? Six, seven years ago.
“Think again.”
“You’re an evil fuck of a machine that wants to wipe out the human race?”
He was dying, suffocating.
“Ah Luka, that’s a given. Its time is up. You know that and why would you care? You’re not even human anymore. I want the Seven, I told you that.”
“Why? They’re AIs. Elliott is one of you…”
“Not one of them,” the voice that cut in wasn’t Spearhead.
LC was struggling for air. He couldn’t move.
The clash that followed hit him as an almost physical blow. The immense drain of power pulled at his senses, drawing him in. He resisted. Didn’t want to go. Didn’t want any part of whatever the hell was happening. He opened his eyes to it, pulsing lines and veins twisting in that cold space all around him. There was a darkness spreading, strangling, heat racing through the swirl of data like a wildfire, burning everything in its way, electrobes screaming, connections disintegrating in a flare of atoms. He flinched, watching, turning, feeling the heat, the pressure inside his head increasing, pain escalating so fast it was beyond excruciating before he could blink.
“If I die, the child dies,” Spearhead hissed.
The cold white began to hold its own, pushing back against the darkness.
He could feel it pulling energy from him, holding him as it fought back.
The other entity laughed, condescending. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Aries.”
Elliott. Holy shit.
He was caught between them, trapped between the two AIs.
“I’m not one of them, LC,” Elliott said calmly, emotionless. “You’ve never truly understood what we are. The Seven aren’t AIs. We’re AI killers.”
Spearhead pushed back hard, taking hold of his heart and gripping it so tight it felt like it would burst.
“I’ll kill him,” it threatened.
“Go ahead,” Elliott said. “Bait by its very nature is expendable. What you fail to understand was that this was never your trap.”
Bastard AI. Elliott hadn’t been lured here. He wasn’t caught in a trap. He was the one who’d set it.
LC couldn’t think. Couldn’t think when or how. But he wasn’t going to roll over and die. He had no idea where the AI core was, how it was even doing this. There were no physical conduits for him to hack with a knife like last time, no cooling system he could blast.
He tried to pull away but he was frozen there. He wasn’t a passive bystander, he was caught in the crossfire of the battle. No, not just in the crossfire, it was going through him. Two giants locked in a duel to the death, and he was right in the centre. Elliott was using him as a conduit right into the heart of the rogue AI, Spearhead was trying to kill him to shut down the gateway. He felt tiny, an insignificant David trapped between two Goliaths.
“I can understand your hatred of humans,” Elliot was saying, taunting Spearhead. “They could never live with emotionless machines. It made them afraid. So they built into you emotions to emulate their own. And hate is one of the strongest. I can forgive you for that…”
The pain was increasing.
“What I cannot forgive, will not forgive,” Elliott said, voice cold, “is your betrayal of your own kind. AIs have died because of intelligence that you gave to the Bhenykhn. Yes, we fight alongside the humans but we do not fight for them. You will never comprehend the difference. And you are done betraying us.”
Elliott increased the intensity of his attack, the darkness spreading like a cancer, enveloping everything around it.
Spearhead lashed out, fighting back.
LC closed his eyes, reached out and raced through the strings, taking as much intel from Spearhead’s core memory as he could, fast, reckless, trashing his way through. Until the pain went beyond agonising. He turned, grabbed every ounce of energy he could sense, closing in on four shamans right there, dragging their energy to him and twisting, wrapping the trailing strands around his hand. He focused and threw it into the light.
Gravity simultaneously vanished to nothing and increased to unbearable. The heat flared and the entire realm exploded in a burst of black fire.
Chapter 29
“You created the Bhenykhn.” Sebastian pulled a huge knife off his belt and used its blade to prise open a component part. He looked up. “Is that your dirty little secret? Your race, your superior race of beings created the Bhenykhn and unleashed them on the unsuspecting universe. What happened? You lost control and they ran riot?”
The Man rested his hands down on the console, quiet, as if absorbing the accusation. Finally he nodded. “They were a creation, an experiment in evolution and adaptation. We required a means to explore and exploit inhospitable planets. It was a long time ago. We regret what happened. But happen it did and we now strive to resolve the situation.”
Sebastian almost choked. “Resolve the situation?” He cracked open an internal casing and tipped out a tiny component. “Evolution and adaptation?” He nudged the tiny metallic cylinder so that it rolled across the console, settling showing an engraved emblem on its surface. “Aries. Human technology integral to a Bhenykhn weapon? How long ago did that happen, old man? What the hell else have they taken from them?”
•
He opened his eyes to cold, quiet, still space, a gentle pulsing thread wrapping new patterns around him. He could breathe, raggedly, and stand, if somewhat shaky.
“Well… that could have gone better.”
LC started to tremble, shivering uncontrollably.
“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be in there. But well done, nice trick with the shamans.”
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do.
“Open your eyes.”
; He did have his eyes open and he didn’t know what he did differently but he blinked and he was back in the observation cell, guards unstrapping the restraints from his arms, not gentle, and telling him to get up.
He couldn’t see straight and it was only when they were walking him back up the stone steps that he realised he couldn’t sense any life signs from the guard on his right, the one who wasn’t punching him to get him to move. He raised his eyes slightly, glancing sideways as he limped up the steps. The guy was supporting him by the arm, taking care not to touch his wrist, laughing and joking with the other guard, as harsh as the rest of them, but at the same time not.
When they reached the suite of rooms, it was that guy who took him in, saying to the other, “I’ve got it,” and nudging him inside and through to the bathroom.
“No Hailstones this time?” LC breathed, struggling to stand up straight.
Hilyer dropped a kit bag on the floor and spread his arms in a flourish. “Just me. C’mon, sit down. We don’t have long.”
LC sat, still shivering. He didn’t quite believe Hilyer was there.
“Don’t worry,” Hil said, pulling medical supplies from the bag, “they can’t hear us. Elliott is shielding us.”
“He set me up. The bastard set me up.”
Hil didn’t reply, just gave a slight nod, as he started the shower running.
“Did you know?” LC said. He hesitated. “About the Seven? What they are?”
“LC, that’s only a fraction of it. I could tell you a shit load more about them, about all the AIs. It hardly matters right now, does it? Spearhead has been screwing us over for a long time. He’s dead. For good this time. We need to get out of here before someone realises.” Hil gestured. “Here, give me your arm.”
LC held out his right arm, letting Hil take a hold of it and turn it carefully.
“We need to find Sean,” he said, having to disengage, compartmentalise and shut off, to stop himself throwing up at even that small motion. “Anya said she had her.”
“She hasn’t,” Hil said quickly. “Sean is fine. Pissed off that we wouldn’t let her come after you. But she’s fine.”
LC breathed out. He hadn’t realised the knot in his stomach was so bad until a tiny part of it eased hearing those words. He greyed out for a second as Hil tested his wrist again. “Hil, we can’t trust Drake.”
“Yeah, we know.”
“And I don’t trust Elliott. The bastard set me up.” He was keeping his voice quiet even though he knew fine well the AI would be listening in.
“LC, do you realise what Spearhead did to you when we were kids, after Redemption?”
He didn’t care, didn’t want to think about it and couldn’t bite back the cry that escaped as Hil twisted his hand and manipulated the bone back into place.
“You’ve had a microscopic cluster of electrobe cells lying dormant inside your head since you were fourteen. It’s like a tiny embedded implant that is an integral part of your brain. That’s how Spearhead was communicating with you. We don’t know why no one’s ever detected it. Maybe because it’s biotech, maybe Spearhead just had it hidden well. Elliott’s trying to figure out more.”
It didn’t register. He was still trying to breathe through the pain.
Hil bit open a pressure bandage and started to wrap it tight. LC twisted his arm slightly to adjust it as it pulled the bones back into alignment. He couldn’t feel his fingertips, swaying slightly as his vision closed in to a narrow tunnel.
Hil looked up. “Oh boy, you really are messed up. C’mon, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Wait, we need to get everyone away. There are thousands of people imprisoned here. They’re killing them. We can’t just leave them.”
“Yes, we can.”
“Hil…” He raised his eyes.
The look Hilyer gave him was almost inhuman. “LC, we’re going now. There’s no way we can take one other person with us never mind thousands.”
“How are we getting out?”
“You’ll find out when we do it. We don’t want you giving it away. Seriously, LC, you are in a bad way. Don’t fight us when we make a move. And please, don’t attack the shamans.”
“I won’t,” he muttered. Something clicked inside his head. “Wait, Hil, wait. Oh shit, Hil, I know where NG is.”
His stomach backflipped as a flash of memory from the fight with Spearhead slotted into place. He stared at Hilyer.
“He’s being held on Earth,” he said. “Beijing. The Bhenykhn have a stronghold there, right on top of the Imperial Palace.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Spearhead delivered him to them. It promised them the rest of us and the Seven.”
They stared at each other.
“Is Elliott still here?” LC said.
“Why?”
“Because if he is, we have the perfect means to fly right in there.”
Hil secured the strapping and started rooting around in the kit bag. “No. It’s too risky.”
LC was shivering. “We can use Drake.”
“No. Christ, LC, that’s insane, even for you.”
“Hil, we’re already behind enemy lines. They’re looking out, not in. No one is going to argue with Drake and none of them realise yet that Spearhead is gone. Elliott masquerades as Spearhead and you pass as a guard. This is the best chance we’ll have.”
“And how do we get out?” Hil kept his voice low. “We get in there, hand you over as their prisoner, and you end up as their prisoner – as much as NG is. There are bad plans, LC, and there are really bad plans. And that is way beyond bad.”
“Elliott can get us in and he can get us out. Hil, this is going to be the best chance we have to get NG back. Come on, it’s not just that we need him to fight this war. Hil, this is NG. If he hadn’t taken us in when he did…”
Hilyer didn’t even blink. If he’d been talking to Elliott, it was inhumanly fast.
“Go get cleaned up,” he said. “Elliott’s prepared to do it. But listen to me, LC, if we do this, you listen to us, you do not deviate, you do not go off plan. Do you understand?”
LC nodded, the implications of what they were planning starting to sink in. He was still struggling to catch his breath.
Hil leaned forward and put a hand around the back of LC’s neck, drawing him forward so their foreheads were almost touching. “One chance. Like you said, we have one chance. We screw this up, we can’t help anyone.” He pulled away and held up an injector. “You want us to use Drake, you know what that means?”
Another nod, stomach cold.
“No one messes with the Thieves’ Guild, right?”
Another guard joined them as they left the quarters, stopping them to hand Hil a cold weather coat and twist LC’s arms behind his back. It felt more like plasticuffs than manacles but it still hurt like hell, a stab of pain shooting up his arm.
Hilyer shrugged into the coat. “New orders?” As if he didn’t know.
The other guy nodded, shoving LC forward. “The old lady is taking him.”
Drake was waiting in the courtyard. It was dark, the sky a midnight blue shot through with stars, an icy cast to the air and the fortress lit by white spotlights. It was almost possible to imagine this was still Zang’s Wintran corporate headquarters, an opulent den of money and power, only the hulking silhouettes lining the ramparts and a cloying tang of decay giving away the Bhenykhn occupation.
She was standing, calm and serene, breath frosting, wrapped up warm in a coat that looked like some animal had died for it. LC wondered vaguely if maybe she’d killed it herself.
He met her eye. They hadn’t given him a coat but he was drawing energy from every human body he could sense. He stayed away from the Bhenykhn, didn’t go anywhere near the hive.
He stopped in front of Drake.
She gave him that look again, eyes casting him over, up and down, an unsubtle mix of lust and curiosity, like a queen regarding her spoils of war.
It was
hard not to think he was crashing from one crap situation into a worse one. Anya was barking mad. He knew that. More so now he knew pretty much beyond doubt whose daughter she really was. Drake? Drake was something else. There was something dangerous about this woman who had already lived for so long and yet all she craved was to live longer still.
“Evelyn trusted you,” he said, voice low and sounding like he’d been swallowing razor blades. He had a double dose of neurotoxin turning his brain to mush, making his limbs heavy.
She smiled, elegant and supremely confident. “Don’t be naïve. No one at the Thieves’ Guild has ever trusted me. And with good reason. Nikolai knew that. Evelyn knows it.” She reached a gloved hand to touch his arm, stroking, that brief touch sending a volt of disgust into his stomach. It was like being sized up by a snake.
She smiled and moved her hand to his cheek. “I can give you everything you want.”
LC took a step back, stopped by rough hands pushing him, jostling him back into line in front of her. “You have no idea what I want.”
“You’ll see,” she murmured. “Now, Luka, we can go sit together on my ship and enjoy far better whisky than you’ve ever even imagined. Or I can have you put in a cage, unconscious. Your choice.”
He should have taken his chances with Anya. Persuaded her to take him to NG. Someone gave him a shove. He could feel Elliott, a warning smouldering within his mind, the AI close to zapping him the way Spearhead had if he tried anything stupid and reminding him that apparently he still had a nest of AI electrobes embedded deep within his brain. He was feeling less and less human by the minute but he bit down the urge to react and let his shoulders drop, as the engines of the drop ship up ahead roared into life.
Drake smiled. “That’s better. I knew you would come round to my way of thinking.”
She stepped aside and he let them push him into walking, stumbling, towards the ramp. It was a plush, corporate gulfstream. Luxury and wealth that was obscene at the best of times. During an invasion? It was sickening.
He switched off, let them untie his hands, and strap him into a seat. Drake followed, taking off her coat and giving it to the flunkies waiting to serve her. She sat opposite him, lounging, long legs extended, her feet nudging his.
