The Immortality Game

by Ted Cross

  “You couldn’t have made him better looking?” Tyoma said to Lev.

  “He told me you were a funny man,” Lev said with a grin. “Well, he wasn’t quite so polite.”

  General Andreykin held out his hand. “Let’s get this over with. Why did you bring me back in here? Viktor could have given me the card and sent me on my way.”

  “What fun would that be, general?” Lev said. “I miss having good company.”

  The general flicked a glance at Tyoma. “Looks like you’re still missing it.”

  Lev chuckled. “General, I do believe you made a joke.”

  “His face didn’t even shatter,” Tyoma added.

  “Enough,” the general said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me you have a good reason to bring me here.”

  Seeing the general gave Tyoma an idea, though he wasn’t sure what he could accomplish with it. His group had been unsure how they might need to influence the general—manipulate him? Kill him? Drive him insane?—so back on the compound when Tyoma had backdoored his way through the general’s wireless firewall, Tyoma had inserted a bundle of code worms that he could trigger wirelessly, each worm with its own purpose. Now that the general’s mind was interfaced with Lev’s sanctuary, Tyoma was intrigued at the possibilities. His worms were passive packages and custom-built, so Lev’s firewall hadn’t detected them. The hard part was figuring out if one could be useful and then triggering it; it isn’t easy to have your mind immersed in a virtual world and at the same time manipulate your body. Tyoma had had only a little practice with dividing his mind in such a way. Which worm might have an effect on Lev?

  “Are you okay there? You’re staring off into space.”

  Tyoma snapped out of his reverie and looked at Lev. “Sorry, I was just wondering exactly what you have in mind with me?”

  “Ah, so you missed everything I just told the general? I’m giving you to him as insurance that the card we gave him is the correct one. Surely you can be of some assistance in testing it.”

  Tyoma kept examining and discarding each of his code worms in turn; with his own mind meshed with Lev’s virtual reality, each worm would do as much damage to himself as it would to the others. He reached the last worm, one meant to infect a firewall’s defenses, corroding them subtly in a manner that should eventually render the firewall useless without setting off any alarms. But what use is that in this situation?

  He found himself nodding, and Lev seemed to take this as an affirmation and went back to speaking with General Andreykin. Tyoma focused on one of Lev’s cerulean eyes and concentrated on trying to reach his body’s wireless interface outside in the real world. Sweat trickled from his hairline and he felt his face flush with exertion. At first he wasn’t sure if he had managed it, but he tried ordering a scan of nearby wireless connections and was relieved when he began seeing responses. His nose began to itch, threatening to break his focus, so he strained his mind further to maintain the tenuous link to his physical body. The list of available wireless signals lined the right side of his vision. With tremendous effort he picked out the name Andreykin from the list and activated the backdoor feed he’d inserted earlier in the day. One more task; don’t lose it now! He heard a voice speaking to him, but he forcefully ignored it and reached through the tunnel to the cache of worms. Two more heartbeats and he found the one he wanted and activated it, then allowed himself to collapse back into his virtual self, panting and shaking with exertion.

  “What the hell is going on with you, Artyom?” Lev said, a suspicious look on Peter O’Toole’s face.

  “A panic attack, most likely,” General Andreykin said with a sneer. “He knows he’ll pay for all his smart ass remarks.”

  Tyoma got his breathing under control and nodded. “I’m not used to such treatment. I’ll do whatever you need, and then please let me go home.” He knew it was just his imagination, but he felt the worm digging away at his own firewall. I’ll need to replace it once I get a chance, he thought. If I ever do get a chance. It felt like nothing more than spite to wreck Lev’s firewall; Tyoma could see no practical use for his actions.

  Lev had turned back to the general. “So, how do you want to do this?”

  The general screwed up his mouth in thought for a few seconds. “Keep him locked someplace safe for a few hours. I’ll send a team to collect him once I’m ready.”

  “Very good,” Lev said and stood up. “I’ll pass instructions to my brother, and…‌well, I suppose if all goes as it should, we won’t be needing to see each other for quite some time, eh general?”

  General Andreykin glared at Lev. “Let’s hope not.”

  Moscow

  Sunday, June 8, 2138

  6:03 p.m. MSK

  Tavik drained his teacup and placed it on the chipped saucer on the table. Vasya was seated across from him, sipping his own tea, which he’d freshened up with a splash of vodka. Tavik looked over at Bunny, still seated on the couch playing with the cat.

  “Your tea’s getting cold, Bunny,” he said.

  Bunny ignored him and went on stroking his slab of a hand across the cat’s fur.

  “Dammit!” Tavik said. “Where the hell is he? It’s been an hour at least.” He had sold Vasya a yarn about them needing to help Georgy do some work down the block.

  “More tea?” Vasya said.

  Tavik shook his head.

  “How about a game of chess?” the old man asked. They had played a few times during visits with Georgy, and as senile as Tavik considered the man to be, he had to admit the man played a mean game of chess.

  “Yeah, sure. Why the hell not?”

  Vasya shuffled off and returned a minute later with a wooden board and bag with pieces. He began placing the white pieces on his own side of the board.

  Tavik grinned. “Yeah, you go ahead and take white, you old codger. I’m gonna wipe the board with you this time.” He quickly set up the black pieces.

  With a shaky hand, Vasya moved his king pawn up two squares.

  “Same move every time, old man,” Tavik said. He’d always replied by advancing his own king pawn two squares, but this time he pushed it ahead only a single space. “Heh! Viktor showed me a new defense. What do you say to that?”

  Vasya shrugged. “Nothing new about the French Defense.” He moved his queen pawn up two.

  “It’s new to me,” Tavik muttered. He was about to move his own queen pawn when he heard a light snapping sound.

  “Oops.”

  Tavik froze with his hand hovering over his pawn. He’d never heard Bunny speak before, hadn’t even known the man could speak. He swiveled toward the couch.

  “Aw, fuck, Bunny! How could you do that?”

  Bunny had a puzzled look on his face. The cat dangled from his enormous fist, its neck clearly broken. Bunny’s face crinkled as he said, “Uh oh.” He reached out his other hand to pet the cat’s head.

  “Oh!” Vasya cried and leapt from his chair, his arms outstretched toward the cat. “Oh, oh!”

  Tavik jumped up to intercept Uncle Vasya but missed. “Bunny, no!”

  He saw the confused look on Bunny’s face transform to rage as the old man’s hands tried to tug the cat away from him. Bunny blasted up from the couch and slammed an open palm up under Vasya’s chin with all his brute strength. Vasya flew across the room, smashed into the wall, and slumped like a rag onto the carpet.

  Tavik clapped his hands to his head. “Ah, Bunny! Is there anyone you won’t kill today?”

  Bunny retrieved the dead cat from the floor where he’d dropped it and sat back down on the couch.

  Tavik scurried over to Vasya and knelt down to feel for a pulse in his neck. Nothing. Tavik shook his head and stood up again. “At this rate Zoya’s never going to marry me.” He glared at Bunny. The cat was splayed across Bunny’s lap. The huge man was stroking the poor thing’s fur. Tears ran down Bunny’s face.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Tavik said. “You’re pe
rfectly content to murder people, but you fall to pieces over an animal.” He walked back to the table and looked at the chess set. No more games with Uncle Vasya.

  His wireless beeped. It was Boris, so he accepted the link. «Is she here?»

  «Nah, boss. It’s some…‌some guy. He wants to speak with you.»

  «What are you talking about? What guy?»

  Even via the mind link Boris gave the impression of being nervous. «Boss, I don’t know. This guy comes right up on my wireless and I didn’t even give him permission. He was just there all of a sudden. I never knew anyone could do that.»

  «Huh,» Tavik said. «Maybe it’s the general. I bet they could do it, but why call you instead of me directly?»

  «No idea. Should I give him your number when he calls back?»

  Tavik thought for a few seconds. «No. If this guy doesn’t have my number, fuck him. Keep watching for the girl.»

  «Yes, boss.» The link broke.

  Tavik nearly leapt out of his skin as a strange voice appeared in his head: «What name do you have besides ‘boss’?»

  The hair rose on Tavik’s arms. «Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my head?»

  «You can call me Mr. Saenz. I’ve been looking for you all day.»

  «Go on.» Tavik dropped onto the chair, his arm accidentally knocking the tea cup over.

  «I’ll do so once you tell me your name. I’d rather know with whom I am speaking.»

  «You telling me you can break into my head but you can’t read my mind?»

  «It doesn’t work that way. I can access your wireless because I’m the one who wrote the source code for most firewalls, and I always built backdoors into my code, but that doesn’t let me access the data in your mind. So, what’s your name?»

  «What do you want from me?»

  There was an electronic sigh across the interface. «How did you ever become a boss? I want your name.»

  «Fuck you! You want my name, you tell—» The world went pitch black. Tavik slapped his hands to his eyes. «Fuck! What did you do? I can’t see!»

  «I can do worse than that. Would you like further examples?»

  Sweat poured down Tavik’s face. «No! Please, I’m sorry. Let me have my eyes back. My name’s Tavik.»

  The world blinked back into its proper place, and Tavik let out a big sigh.

  «That’s better,» said the odd voice. «Now don’t try my patience again.»

  «Thought you said you couldn’t access my mind?»

  «I can’t access the data in your mind. Your slot interface directly accesses all of your senses. How do you think virtual reality works via your wireless? Those oh-so-real-seeming slatterns you enjoy when you get home? Anything that runs through your slot I can control.»

  «What did you say your name was again?»

  «Mr. Saenz.»

  «What kind of accent is that?»

  «Foreign.»

  «What…‌what can I do for you?»

  «I met one of your people at the apartment of one Zoya Drozdova. I’m sure you know the place.»

  «Okay. You a friend of hers?»

  «No. There was a data card plugged into a Web connection in that apartment. I believe you know the card of which I speak.»

  «If you’re one of the general’s men, I’m already—»

  «What general? Is he the owner of the card?»

  Tavik’s mind raced. Not with the general. Who the hell is this guy? «What do you want with the cards?»

  «I don’t care about the cards. I want to know who created them.»

  «How did you find me?»

  «I told you, I ran into one of your men. From his slot I was able to trace the last few calls he made, which led me to your pal, Boris. Boris suggested some unpleasant things I could do to myself, but then he was kind enough to place a call to you. Got it?»

  «You can trace things that fast, huh? And just break through any firewall?»

  «Any firewall made from my code. Well, I’m sure I could get through others, but that could take some time. So, tell me who made the cards.»

  «I’ll tell you. Sure, why not? What will you do for me?»

  «How about I don’t kill you?»

  Tavik’s heart lurched in his chest.

  «Look, I’m in a hurry,» Mr. Saenz said. «You’re looking for this girl Zoya, right? Well, I can tell you where she is. Just tell me where I can find the people who made the cards.»

  «Fair enough,» Tavik said. «You’re the one with the power. You’ve already shown me what you can do to me. Tell me how I can find Zoya, and I swear I’ll tell you what you want to know.»

  «Done. I stalled the air car she was using near the apartment building of her friend, not far from her own building. You know the place?»

  «Oksana’s? One of my guys is there.»

  «If you say so. She’s still inside right now. Do what you want, but let me tell you this—my son Marcus is in the air car. You so much as touch him and you’ll die painfully, got it?»

  «Sure, no problem. I don’t care about anything but her.»

  «Don’t think I can’t monitor every move you make. You leave Marcus alone.»

  «I got it. Okay, I don’t know any names. I just know the location of the compound where these guys do their work.»

  «Feed the map through your slot so I can see it.»

  It took a minute for Tavik to calm himself down enough to create a mental image of the military compound where the scientists worked. «There, you got it?»

  «Yes, as long as you’re not lying to me.»

  «You kidding? After what you did to me you think I’d mess with you?»

  «I’ve seen enough stupid people in this world to never doubt the levels to which they can sink. Anyhow, hopefully we’ll never need to speak again, so long as these coordinates are correct and you leave my son alone.»

  Tavik looked over at Bunny, who seemed oblivious to everything that had happened and was still stroking the dead cat. «If anything happens to your son, it won’t be my doing, I promise you.»

  The connection was already severed.

  Tavik leapt to his feet. “Bunny, come on or stay here and pet your cat, I don’t give a damn, but I’m going now!” He headed out the door without pausing to see if Bunny would follow.

  Moscow

  Sunday, June 8, 2138

  6:12 p.m. MSK

  Marcus woke with a start. Light streamed in through tinted windows close on either side, confusing him since his mind told him he was in his own bed in the apartment back in Phoenix. He shook his head to clear the fog, and it all came crashing back…‌the horrible rocket ride to Russia; being attacked by a huge thuggish man and saved by a strange and beautiful woman, who had flowed down the corridor and attacked like some fantastic ninja; dragging the man into her apartment; watching that woman shoot the man like a deadshot Clint Eastwood from an ancient cowboy vid. He shivered. More had happened to him in the past few hours than in his entire previous life, and all he wanted was for things to return to the way they had been. He wanted to be home in Phoenix, mopping his mother’s brow and soothing her, arguing with his father about what kind of future he might have in a dying country.

  Car…‌I’m in a car, he remembered. The leather of the seat creaked and gave off a comforting smell as Marcus sat up, stretching his arms and yawning. His stomach grumbled, his head ached, and he needed to relieve himself. The driver stood outside, leaning against the nose of the vehicle, smoking a sim-cig. Marcus told the car to open the door, but nothing happened, so he fumbled for a minute until he figured out how to pop the override handle and push the door up. He scrambled out and hesitantly approached the driver, who blew out a vapor cloud and smirked at him.

  Marcus double-checked the pronunciation from the translator before he spoke. “Is this where I’m staying?” He scanned the crumbling apartment buildings that formed a U-shape around the parking lot. “I thought it would be
more modern.”

  The driver shook his head. “This is where your girlfriend wanted to go. Now the car won’t work. Complete power failure. You ever seen anything like that?”

  Marcus shook his head.

  The driver went on, “No worries. I called for another car. They’re busy at the moment, but one should arrive soon.” He put the sim-cig to his mouth and sucked in a deep breath.

  “What’s that do for you?” Marcus pointed at the slim steel cartridge in the driver’s mouth. He knew what a sim-cig was in theory, but he’d never known anyone to use them. Smoking had been outlawed by the Global Council nearly two decades ago, and in America West the Mormon government had ruthlessly enforced the ban.

  The driver looked at him sideways, his eyebrows raised like Marcus had asked the dumbest question in the world. He held the sim-cig out and looked at it, his mouth drawn down in a frown. “Like cigarette, yeah? No real tobacco in Russia since the Dark Times.”

  Marcus knew how they worked. The tube was filled with tiny pellets filled with short-life nanobots. Draw in a breath on the end of the tube and it split a pellet and allowed you to suck the nanobots into your lungs. When you breathed out, the remnants of the nanobots were expelled in a sort of vapor, also meant to simulate smoking. “I heard there are different kinds.”

  He’d heard there were simulators for everything from marijuana to cocaine and more, even ones for sexual arousal, though considering the prevalence of virtual mates why anyone would need the latter was beyond him.

  The driver looked disgusted. “Maybe in the West with all your fancy habits. In Russia we smoke cigarettes.” He spat onto the pavement.

  Marcus thought it was interesting how fast the man had dropped the polite formality of his chauffeur act. Perhaps it was being trapped down on ground level with a dead air car, babysitting a spoiled foreigner.

  Fluffy white things floated on the breeze, piling in small drifts on the concrete. “What is this stuff?”

  The driver rolled his eyes and spoke a small word that Marcus’s card translated as ‘poplar seeds’.

  “This happen a lot here?”