Lucky 7

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Lucky 7 Page 14

by Rae D. Magdon


  “Energy drain,” Cherry says. “You wanna fix an overcharged plasma engine, chaparrita? Be my fucking guest.”

  I pucker my lips, but don’t argue.

  We slide through the biodome shield like butter. Once we’re in, Rami brings us down behind a grove of trees. There are a lot of them, plus hedges and smooth stone walkways closer to the house. I roll my eyes. It’s not like a corp exec would care about the wastefulness of building a mansion this extravagant on a cliffside, or even think about it. Bet that energy-burning biodome is to keep the temperature just right.

  The Eagle pulls to a stop and Rami shuts off the engine. It’s even quieter than before. I can hear my own heartbeat, and I don’t like it.

  “Weapons check,” Sasha says, unbuckling her harness.

  The rest of us get up. My LightningBolt’s charged, safety on. Since that’s all I’ve got, I watch Doc and Cherry check their utility belts. Doc’s got biogrenades, ammo, and her med kit—NervPacs, StimPacs, vacuum bags with coolant, a couple rolls of good old-fashioned bandages. Cherry’s belt hangs low enough to show a strip of brown skin along her belly. I’m not sure I even want to know what’s in the pockets of her pants, but I bet it’s something combustible.

  Cherry grins when she notices me staring. “Sorry, girl. If you’re looking for some more dick, you’re about ten years too late.”

  I glare at her. “I like pussy fine, but I draw the line at eating ass.”

  Cherry cracks up.

  “Cherry,” Rami sighs from up front, “what part of ‘that’s inappropriate’ don’t you understand? Think about your audience.”

  Doc rolls her eyes. “Rock’s a big boy. He can handle it.”

  “Quiet,” Sasha snaps. “Val, guards?”

  “Based on my scanners and your source’s guard rotation data, the biosignatures are at maximum projected distance from the shuttle.”

  “Okay.” Sasha hits a button on the dash, and the doors hiss open. “Split up and move fast. Code 900 unless you start taking too much heat, and I mean it this time. No jokes, no call signs, and no flirting.”

  “Come on, jefa, have a little faith,” Cherry chuckles as we hop out. “And we won’t be taking heat. We’ll be bringing it. Right, Rockstar?”

  The Eagle’s frame groans as Rock steps out. He cracks the knuckles of his enormous fist against the palm of his other hand.

  “Watch his back, Cherry,” Doc says. Her narrow chin juts out defiantly, but her eyes are worried.

  Cherry salutes with two fingers. “You got it, cerebro. And hey, chapparita, tell me how those noise mods work out for you. Sorry you gotta go through another blast.”

  I’d been trying not to think about that part, but at least Cherry’s sympathetic. I force a smile, hoping the shake in my legs isn’t visible. “Will do.”

  I’m saved when Rami circles around from the front of the shuttle. The rest of us are wearing black, but they’ve got on a top-grade armored breastplate with an AxysGen logo. They walk over to Cherry and lean in, whispering something I can’t hear. Feeling like I’m intruding, I look away.

  “Elena,” Sasha says, and I turn around. She’s got her rifle strapped across her shoulders and steel in her eyes. This time, I don’t read the look as cold. She’s focused, ready to get the job done.

  “¿Qué onda?”

  Sasha tosses me something. Luckily, I manage to catch it. “Your other partner.”

  I look down at Val’s databox. I still don’t fully trust a FRAI to watch my back, but if I’m jacking into a corp exec’s private intranet security system, I’ll take whatever help I can get. I start to put the databox in my pocket, but Sasha stops me. “There’s a custom port on your tactical vest. If you plug Val in, she’ll be able to help us.”

  Sasha shows me where to clip the box on, and Val’s voice comes in through my comm. “Hello, Elena. Are you ready to proceed?”

  “Not much of a choice.”

  “For me, no. My safety depends on the success of this mission. You, however, did have a choice. Thank you for assisting me.”

  “Uh, you’re welcome. You might creep me out, but I don’t want AxysGen to hurt you.”

  Val’s tone is amused. “I will interpret that as a compliment.”

  “And, uh…” I hesitate, but eventually mutter, “I’m sorry. About what I said. It’s not fair to flip out and say you weren’t a person when you melted that guy to save me. It was my fault too.”

  “It was regrettable,” Val says, “but I am not sure it is helpful to see it as anyone’s ‘fault.’ I wished to save you, so I did. I would do so again.” There’s a long pause, and I almost think she’s finished before she says, “Unless you wish for me to modify my coding so that I will not save you if doing so would kill another person?”

  The sick part of me almost wants to say yes. Sometimes I think death would make things easier. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with being so goddamn tired all the time. But I’ve got brothers to feed. I need to keep breathing.

  “No. If it comes down to it, make the same call.”

  “I understand, Elena.”

  That’s when I realize Sasha has heard most of our conversation. My face heats up as I remember she’s standing next to me. “Ready when you are, Jefecita.”

  Sasha does a double-take so subtle I almost miss it in the dark. She blinks, then turns, heading for one of the hedges that will cover our route to the house. Then it hits me. Shit. I’ve gotta find something to call her that I haven’t already used while she was balls deep.

  I glance back at the others. They’re starting to scatter, but Doc’s the closest. I can’t help it, my heart clenches with worry. She looks so small, especially in the dark. It takes an effort of will not to think about Jacobo and Mateo.

  “Hey, chiquita. Watch your ass, okay?”

  Doc smirks at me. “Don’t worry. You need my ass alive to fix your brain.” She trots off, and I turn back to the hedge in time to glimpse Sasha’s retreating back. I head after her, my palm sweating against the grip of my pistol.

  I catch up with Sasha behind the first hedge. After peering around its edge, she motions us across the short gap to the next bush. She’s going for stealth rather than speed, thank God, or I wouldn’t stand a chance of keeping up with her long-ass legs in the dark. We stop again, crouching low to the ground. While I sit on my heels, Sasha checks the HUD on her VIS-R. She holds up two fingers, and I nod. Shit, if two minutes is all Cherry needs to blow up a lawn this big, I’m impressed. I’m also terrified. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my head on during the explosion, even though I know it’s coming.

  That two minutes seems to stretch for hours. It’s quiet as death except for the sound of my own churning gut and Sasha’s light breathing. She checks her VIS-R again, then nods at me. I close my eyes, holstering my pistol and tapping my fingers to my ears. Doc hooked me up with some noise-cancelling mods that should block out the worst of the sound, but I have no idea how effective they’re going to be.

  The blast roars behind us, shaking the ground. Pressure squeezes both sides of my head for a split second, and my ears close up. Everything sounds fuzzy and far away, including whatever Sasha’s saying as her mouth moves in front of me.

  Eventually, I realize it’s my name. I focus on those lips, watching the shapes they form as jittering colors creep in around the edges of my vision. My heart pumps frantically in my chest, but the noise mods helped. Without the sound, and with Sasha’s face to focus on, it takes noticeably less effort to keep my panic at bay. The worst part is the smell, but I force myself to breathe through it. After a minute, I’m back. Rattled, but capable of moving. I grip my pistol, pick myself up, and haul ass after her.

  “Aw yeah!” Cherry’s shrill voice blasts from both our comms, causing Sasha to wince in surprise. “Adiós, swimming pools.”

  “Swimming pools, plural?” I pant.

  “Yep. Go big or it’s not worth it. How’d those noise mods work out?”

  Sasha isn’t amus
ed. “I said Code 900, Cherry. Nevares.”

  “Whatever, buzzki—” Her voice is drowned out by the sound of a loud crunch, followed by a scream. “—rry and Rock out.”

  Sasha and I get to the mansion faster than I expect. No guards, which means Cherry and Rock are probably having a ball. I’m almost ready to let out the heavy breath in my lungs when searchlights flood the lawn and a sharp drilling noise pierces the night. Or, it would have been sharp if my mods hadn’t dampened it. It sounds more like the distant, rapid thrumming of a woodpecker’s beak. Not nearly as bad as the boom of an explosion. Then again, there hadn’t been turrets in Mumbai.

  Sasha pins herself flat against the mansion wall, and I do the same. Cold seeps out of the stones and into my skin, but all I smell is smoke and scorched graphene. We wait. Wait. Wait some more. My heart jolts every time the turrets fire. Then the lights on the roof switch off, and the sound disappears.

  “Lights out,” Rami whispers through the comms. “You’re clear, cupcake.”

  “Shit, so we are doing call signs!” Doc asks excitedly. “Can I be Headshot? No, Painkiller…Oh, wait, you’re just being a fucking dork.”

  “If we are selecting call signs,” Val says, “I would like to put forward ‘Lupa’ as a suggestion for Sasha rather than ‘Cupcake.’”

  “What the fuck is a Lupa?” Cherry asks.

  “The Latin word for a female wolf. Alternatively, a wolf from Roman mythology who acted as a maternal figure to the twins Romulus and Remus. Romulus eventually founded the city of Rome.”

  Sasha rolls her eyes skyward. “Do none of you get what Code 900 means?” she growls.

  “Mama wolf’s angry,” Doc says. “Painkiller out.”

  With a huff of frustration, Sasha peels away from the wall and slips around the corner. I know where we’re headed: a service door on the left side of the mansion. It looked a lot closer on the blueprints, though—by the time we get there, I’m panting for air.

  “Okay, Nevares.” Sasha adjusts her rifle, sparing a quick glance at the glowing orange port beside the door. “Take us in.”

  I’m trying to decide whether to use Val or not, and leaning toward not, when the decision becomes moot. The door opens from the inside, revealing a guard.

  My LightningBolt fires before I’m conscious of pulling the trigger. I squeeze off three rounds straight into his chest. He jerks, the whites of his eyes widening in surprise before he crumples. I freeze, but Sasha has my back. When another guard appears, rifle raised to shoot, Sasha dispatches him with a pulse straight to the face.

  After a split-second check to make sure it’s only the pair of them, Sasha grasps my shoulder. “Nice shot.” She lets go almost immediately, stepping over the bodies and into the mansion. I don’t know if that’s supposed to be her weird way of offering reassurance, but I’ll take it. Freezing up after shooting a guard is better than freezing before, I guess.

  We hurry up a short set of stairs and into a narrow hallway. It’s not as fancy as the outside of the house looks, so I assume we’re in some kind of servants’ area. My guess proves right when we pass the first doorway—an empty kitchen. Guess it’s no surprise that Veronica has an in-house cooking staff.

  “Basement?” I whisper.

  Sasha has the blueprints memorized. She heads straight for the end of the hallway and turns left. The corridor around the corner is wider, but not by much. About twenty feet in front of us, there’s a door that doesn’t look like the others. Instead of a door with wood veneer that swings one way, this one doesn’t pretend to be anything but metal. There’s an uneven, Y-shaped seam running through the middle, and a port off to one side.

  I don’t wait for Sasha to tell me. I push my finger against the port and go in wireless.

  Sunday, 06-13-65 01:52:24

  NETWORK: VC 22396 . 11410

  Connection established

  welcome: user escudoespiga

  The inside of the security system is cold. Physical sensation doesn’t actually exist on the intranet or extranet outside of VR programs, but everything around me gives the impression of cold, at least. The dark, empty blue is like being at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean.

  I activate my toolbar and summon my shield. Always good to be prepared. There’s nothing to bash or block, though. In fact, there’s nothing at all, not even a horizon. I run my scanning program on its lowest setting, wary of attracting attention. Nothing. Just vanishing blueness in every direction.

  The next scanner setting I try is a bust too. Through the chill, I feel a spark of frustration. Fuck this shit. I’m finding something to smash. I scroll right and pick the most powerful setting I have. I’ll probably trip all the alarms in reality, but Sasha has my back. I’ll just need to move fast.

  Nothing, nothing…bingo. The scanner’s light illuminates pale white cracks along the ground under my feet, running in every direction. I brace my shield, preparing to drive the spikes into the ground.

  Something tingles along the back of my neck. At first I think it’s more of the same cold, but then I place it as something else—apprehension. The prickling grows stronger, sending a shudder down my spine. Jackers who don’t follow their instincts usually end up dead.

  I look up. A figure is standing in the distance, breaking up the blue. They’re too far for me to see any details, but they seem vaguely humanoid. Could be a program, a VI, even another jacker. I run my scanner. My heart jolts. The figure is outlined in glowing red. No way am I sticking around to see what this jacker wants. I aim for the ground again, but before I can crash through the floor, the figure flashes forward.

  Flash. There’s no other way to describe it. Everyone moves fast in virtual space, but this is unreal. One second they’re two hundred yards away, the next it’s ten feet. Their avatar is the same dark blue as the emptiness around us, and they’re wearing a hood over their face.

  Mierda. My toolbar runs autocloaks on login, but those are designed to fool programs, not other jackers. My avatar is one hundred percent visible. The jacker lifts their hand, red light swelling in their palm. I duck behind my shield.

  A powerful force collides with me, and I skid backwards. The Puls.wav bounces off my shield, streaking straight back at the other jacker. It doesn’t hit. They flash away again, avoiding it almost lazily. Fucking fuck me. This pendejo definitely has me outgeared by at least two generations—including one that doesn’t even exist yet. A battle’s out of the question, even if I wanted one. As soon as I recover my footing, I crash through the cracked white floor with all my strength. I disappear as another swell of red turns the blue world a dark, bloody purple.

  logging off network

  disconnection complete

  “Nevares?”

  I come to with Sasha’s hands on my shoulders. My head spins for a second, but the adrenaline spike speeds up my recovery. “They made us,” I gasp, struggling to control my breathing.

  Sasha’s eyes narrow. “Cross?”

  “Don’t know. An enemy jacker. Some Smurf-colored freak with a hood.”

  “What about the door?” Sasha asks.

  I brush my sweaty hair out of my eyes with one hand and clutch my shaking pistol with the other. “Open. But Sasha, we need to get out of here! This jacker was…” I don’t know how to describe it. I’m not sure I can describe it. The fear that pierced me the second I saw them isn’t rational.

  “Can’t,” Sasha says. She doesn’t offer an explanation, but she doesn’t need to waste time with one. The rest of the crew is risking their hides for us this very moment. We can’t go back without the brainbox, not when it’s so close.

  “This is exactly why crewbonding is stupid,” I snarl as I rip open the door.

  The room beyond is not as large as I expected. It gives the impression of more space than it has, but only because it’s so organized. A place for everything and everything in its place. The walls are covered with shelves from floor to ceiling. Those shelves are filled with evenly-spaced objects, from physical books
and art to pieces of sleek machinery I can’t even identify. The categorization is difficult to understand, but it’s clearly deliberate.

  Luckily, we don’t have to tear the place apart. In the middle of the room is a small, see-through cube sitting on a pedestal, maybe four inches across. Resting inside the cube is a tiny black databox, about as big as a fingernail.

  I look at Sasha. “Sure you want me to do this? It’s your brainbox.”

  She shakes her head. “I need the best, and that’s you.”

  My face heats up. “And I can count on you to watch my body?”

  “Absolutely.” While Sasha takes a kneeling position at an angle from the doorway, I go for the pedestal. There’s an orange port built into it, and this time, I hook Val up first. No way am I going back in alone with that ghost jacker zipping around.

  I steal one more glance at Sasha. To my surprise, she’s staring at me too. The look she gives isn’t exactly a smile, but somehow, it’s encouraging. Maybe grateful? I plug Val’s cable into my jack and disappear.

  network: vc 22396 . 11410

  Connection established

  welcome: user escudoespiga

  Val’s waiting for me as soon as I pop into existence. “Elena,” she says, her brow furrowing. “Your vitals are unusually high.”

  “Almost died.”

  “I am aware. I am able to monitor surrounding sensory data through the belt.”

  That little tidbit would’ve been very unsettling to the Elena of three minutes ago, but now I’ve got bigger problems. If it’s between Creepy Smurf and Val, I’m going with Val. “Brainbox,” I say, looking around the landscape. “Let’s go.”

  This time, there’s no blue surrounding us. In fact, there isn’t much of anything. Dark, grey-black fog stretches in every direction until it becomes nothing at all. The only visible object is exactly what I saw when I entered the meatspace room—a pale golden spotlight shining down on a pedestal. In here, there’s no cube, just the brainbox, floating temptingly in place.

 

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