by D. B. Goodin
“Stop this now, sister,” Treeka said. She leaped off the table, then shielded Brody.
“Move, sister,” Meeka ordered.
“I will after you put down the knife. He is not the one who hurt you.”
Meeka looked unsure.
“He’s no danger to you—we have to get that bad code out of your head. Dr. Brody wants to help us,” Treeka continued.
“He just wants to help himself,” Meeka shouted as she plunged the knife into Brody’s chest.
“No!” Treeka shouted.
Meeka fled into the night.
Treeka pursued her sister. The cool night air and her nakedness reminded her she was not ready for another confrontation.
Dr. Brody was lying in a pool of his own blood.
What have you done, sister? Treeka telepathically asked her sister.
Treeka watched as a sticky substance oozed out of the hole of Brody’s chest. Brody shook.
“Find something to stop the bleeding,” Brody said.
Treeka looked for anything she could use to stop the draining. She opened various cabinets and tossed their contents to the floor. She was about to give up and look elsewhere when she spotted a small white box; it was nearly weightless, so she examined it further. The word “gauze” written on it. Treeka tore into the box and removed all the small white sponges. When she examined the wound, her cybernetic interface appeared over her vision. The knife was still lodged in Brody’s chest. Her interface changed her vision to a makeshift X-ray machine. She could see the knife as it penetrated the area just below his ribcage. It didn’t appear like it had punctured any vital organs, but it was close to his heart.
“It doesn’t look like the blade hit anything important, but I’ll try to stop the bleeding,” Treeka said.
“Be careful with the knife—”
Brody’s screams echoed through the lab as Treeka removed the knife. She ripped a hole in his shirt, exposing the grievous-looking wound. She was about to jam the gauze over it and apply the tape when a system message appeared on her visor:
Warning: Remember to disinfect the wound before applying to bandage to prevent infection.
Treeka looked around for something to help clean the wound. She found a bottle with clear liquid labeled “isopropyl alcohol” and poured it over the wound. More screams emitted from the man as she finished dressing the wound.
“I need to go after Meeka,” Treeka said.
“Stop her before she hurts people,” Brody whimpered.
Treeka put on her soiled black leather outfit, then entered the chilly fall night.
Nigel, Jet, and Melissa sat in the back of the stretch limo.
“I’ve never been in a car as nice as this before,” Jet said.
This car is like the one Natasha picked me up when I was just an intern. All those years ago. That weekend of testing helped shape me into the man I am today.
Nigel closed his eyes as the thought of his murdered friend surfaced. He had buried it deep within him.
“What’s wrong, Nige?” Jet asked.
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
Melissa looked at her watch and said, “It’s past midnight, and we all need rest, so let’s plan on meeting at the hotel restaurant at 8:30 for breakfast.”
“That sounds good to me, the later the better,” Jet said.
“How well do you know Dr. Brody?” Nigel asked.
Melissa seemed surprised at the sudden change of subject.
“Not well,” she answered, “but he is highly regarded in the genetic engineering community.”
“He’s also wanted by Interpol,” Nigel said.
“What?” Melissa said, confused.
“I did a background check, so I could check his credentials when I received an Interpol warning. Nigel positioned his laptop so both Jet and Melissa could see it.
Wanted:
Nicolai Brody
Genetic Engineer
Wanted for eight counts of unauthorized genetic modification, three counts of sexual assault, and one count of bribery.
Melissa was glued to the screen.
“That bastard—how did he? I’ll have some serious questions for Jensen, my chief of staff, tomorrow, he vetted him. I will put a stop to Dr. Brody’s involvement,” Melissa said.
“I don’t think it’s wise to let him know we are on to him. We don’t have the necessary expertise in genetics to replace him,” Nigel said.
“He looked very pleased to see the cyborg with no clothes on too,” Jet said.
Nigel remembered seeing Treeka naked, and silently admitted he hadn’t been immune to its effects.
I can only imagine what Brody has in store for her.
Nigel shook off the thought. Jet snuggled against him. He closed his laptop then, just before closing his eyes.
Sometime later, Nigel awoke as one of the limo doors opened. He shook Jet until her eyes opened and met his. She gave him that special smile that always seemed to make his heart flutter.
“We’ve arrived. Please exit the curbed side of the vehicle,” the driver said.
Nigel looked around. “Where’s Melissa?”
“She retired for the evening. I suggest you do as well.
“Come on, Jet, let’s put you to bed,” Nigel said as he coaxed her out of the vehicle.
Chapter 14
Nigel awoke to the sounds of the city. Although it was the middle of the night, New York never slept; there was always someone awake. As he tried to regain sleep, an errant thought invaded his mind.
What is Dr. Brody’s true motivation? Does he want to help Treeka and her sister, or himself?
Nigel got out of bed and gazed out at lights of Times Square; the vibrant lights lit up the surrounding streets as if it were day.
If I can’t sleep, I should get that connector made for Treeka’s neural interface.
Nigel found a maker lab—called Maker Station—about eight blocks away. He confirmed it was open twenty-four hours as he got dressed. Jet was still sleeping, and he looked at her.
How did I get so lucky?
He left Jet a note, grabbed his jacket, then left to brave the cold early morning air.
Thirty minutes later, he arrived at Maker Station. There were several people working at various stations.
More people than I expected at this hour.
A gigantic clock made from electronic circuits and other computer parts was hanging over a reception desk.
It’s past three a.m. I don’t think it will take long to make the connector. With any luck, I will be back in bed with Jet before dawn.
A woman a few years older than Nigel sat behind a reception desk reading a small magazine called Dark Encounters. As she raised her head to get a better look at Nigel, she smiled.
“What can I help you with?” she asked. Then she put an index finger on her lips and licked it.
“I need to use the lab,” Nigel said.
The girl turned the page of her magazine before resting it on the counter. Something was off about the woman. If her braided black hair, black lipstick, and fingernails weren’t enough, she had several piercings.
“It’s fifty an hour for full use of the lab plus materials. I need the first hour upfront in cash,” she said.
Nigel handed it over. “Can I get a receipt?”
The woman shoved the cash in an area behind the counter.
“Follow me.”
I guess I can get that receipt later.
Moments later, Nigel was seated at a workstation. He let the woman show the machine’s use, then reviewed his schematic.
He entered the exact specifications of the connector’s outer plastic shell. As soon as he pressed the “execute” button, he watched the machine inject some blue material into some kind of mold. The machine shook as it made the part.
As the machine continued to work, he gathered the remaining parts he needed:
A surface mount resistor with a resistance range of one kilo ohm.
Rosen core so
lder
Variable range soldering iron (12- to 18-watt range)
Micro PCB
I forgot the nanowire FET specs. They are on my laptop. But I’ve studied the spec enough. I think I can figure it out.
Nigel made an educated guess on the specification for the proper nanowire FET. He needed something with an appropriate drain rating. He wanted to avoid a rapid decay if possible. He decided on a circuit with an exponential decay because it allowed for the decrease of electrical signal at a proportional rate, which meant electrical energy for Treeka’s neural interface wouldn’t fry the circuit attached to her cranial interface, which would be disastrous.
It took Nigel longer than expected, but he put everything together. His phone chirped. It was a text from Jet.
Hey, Nige, where are you?
He looked out a nearby window. The streets were lighting up.
The sun is rising, Nigel thought before texting back.
I’m at the maker lab, didn’t you get my note?
Nigel watched the blinking dots showing Jet was replying.
Oh, I see it now. You should have texted me instead, lol, she wrote.
I’ll be back soon, Nigel answered.
He gathered his newly created cyborg connector, cleaned his workstation, and then provided a materials list to the woman at the desk.
“An additional $37.50, please—for the extra thirty minutes on the machine, plus $12.50 in materials,” the woman said.
Nigel paid, then turned to leave.
“Wait,” the woman said.
Nigel turned to see her with a thin paper in hand. Nigel took the paper.
“If you can figure out how to create a better sex toy, let me know.”
What did she just say?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that last part,” Nigel said.
“I said have a nice day. I work the night shift. Come back anytime,” she answered, smiling.
A knock on the door awakened Jet. She read the note Nigel had left as she headed toward the door. She looked through the peephole to see April standing in the hallway.
“Jet!” April said as she opened the door.
“April, it’s great to see you. Come in.”
April gave Jet a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you.” Then she cried as Jet put her arms around her.
“Don’t be frightened,” Jet said. “I’m here for you.”
April wiped the tears away.
“My mum told me to leave you alone, but I had to see you. I’m sorry if it’s early, but the guards wouldn’t let me visit last night.”
“That’s okay, April, but you’re going to have to be a little more careful in the future. Your mom told me about what happened at your home.”
“It was awful. This woman with white hair almost got us. I was so scared.”
Jet held April for a long moment.
“Can I stay here for a while?” April asked.
“You can stay for a little while, but Nigel’s coming back, and your mother will wonder what happened to you if you’re not back soon.”
“That’s okay, I left her a message.”
“How have you been holding up? Your mom said you haven’t been speaking or interacting with people as much as you should,” Jet said.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“After everything we’ve been through, you know I can.”
“After you and Nigel shut down Delta, she came back. She tried to escape. Later, she took over my body. I didn’t know what was happening when she did.”
“How did you find out?” Jet asked.
“Nurse Marge said something about how bad I was becoming. But I didn’t remember acting bad—I’m a good girl.” April paused before continuing. “I found something bad on my tablet that I tried sending to you and Nigel.”
“I don’t think we got it, April.”
The cyborg frowned. “I thought I sent it, but the merge—or nexus, as Lev calls it—may have mixed things up.”
“Lev? As in Leviathan?”
“Yes, she is part of me now, and so is Delta. I hear all of them in my head.”
Jet gave April a worried look.
“Wait, you mean Delta and Leviathan can hear us talk?” Jet asked.
April nodded.
Jet was speechless.
“Delta doesn’t want to harm anyone, does she?” Jet was worried.
“No—she promised she is going to be good. We want to help people now,” April said.
Careful, April, I don’t like where this is going, Delta warned.
We can trust Jet, she’s one of the good ones, April said.
I’ve switched us to a private channel. I’ve been doing some research. After analyzing our collective memories, I’ve determined Leviathan is not telling us everything. I found a note labeled “The Cabal” in a secret drawer the AI doesn’t know I have knowledge of, Delta said.
What was in the drawer? Damaris asked.
A detailed diary of everything that has happened since we fought our way out of Edinburgh, Delta replied.
Is that a bad thing? April said.
The information is not suspicious, but there is information about a rendezvous point with Dr. Ash, Delta said.
She’s dead—you killed her, April said.
Yes, because she failed us. And she was interfering with Grandfather’s plans. During my research, I learned Dr. Ash’s consciousness lives inside another AI I’ve tried to take control of. It’s possible she may gain possession of another cybernetic body. She may try to control us, or attempt to use us as a weapon, Delta said.
I’m afraid that isn’t in our best interest, Damaris said.
What are we going to do? April said.
We get help from your friends, Delta said.
Jet and Nigel? April asked.
Yes, but we need to keep it from Leviathan. The nexus that was formed caused Leviathan to detach from us; I’m not sure if it is aware. We need to be aligned in case Leviathan turns against us, Delta said.
Leviathan knows all of our thoughts—we are omnipresent. How are we going to control our thoughts? Damaris asked.
We partition our minds. I did this just before the nexus event. Leviathan was starting to get suspicious, I think, Delta answered.
I don’t understand how we can hide anything from Leviathan, April said.
It’s easy, little one, you store this knowledge in this special box. Delta held out a virtual hand, revealing a music box her grandfather had given her so long ago.
That may work. We store all memory of this conversation in our own version of the box until it is needed. But how will we know when it’s time? Damaris asked.
I will know when it’s time, and I will give you back those memories. Soon the AI will be connecting to the one of many wireless networks in the city. Once that happens, we may not be able to control it without help. That’s where your friends come in, Delta said.
“April, are you okay?” Jet asked, alarmed. She’d just watched April have a conversation with herself.
“Yes, I’m alright.”
“Were you talking with your friends?”
“Yes, we have agreed we can trust you.”
“You mean you and Delta?”
“And Damaris,” April said.
“You have two other consciousnesses inside your head?”
“Yes, and Leviathan is also there, but . . .”
Jet stared at April as if she was an alien.
“We don’t trust Leviathan. That’s why we need your help,” April said.
“I’ll help, but I’ll need to tell Nigel.”
“We expect you to, just be careful. I’m afraid of that white-haired woman.” April’s gaze shifted to the door. “We have to go, but we will try to get a message to you,” April said as she left.
Thirty minutes later
Jet did her best to fall asleep after April’s visit, but it was no use. Her mind was wound up, and she didn’t think she would be able to sleep.
Ma
ybe I should log back into the Colossal Machine and resume my quest?
Jet didn’t want to continue her adventures without Nigel and April, but that old man who called her the redeemer was so damned compelling. It didn’t take long to convince herself. She unpacked her portable VR interface for the Colossal Machine. It wasn’t as immersive as the full setup she had at the loft, but she wanted to get her mind off recent events. Moments later she was transported back to the Garden of Light.
Jet found herself outside a set of massive double doors made of bronze. Jet always enjoyed how much detail the developers of the Colossal Machine put into the game world. She had read somewhere the artists and level designers weren’t allowed to mass produce any of the game details. Virtually everything was handcrafted. Just as she was contemplating her next move, the double doors opened inward. She was bathed in the bright light emanating from a golden luminescence called the Sphere of Fate. The old man had guided her to this level—which Nigel had compared to the Hanging Gardens—for a reason, and she wanted to find out.
“It’s good to make your acquaintance, JetaGirl,” the old man said.
How does he know about my in-game handle? Jet wondered. I didn’t tell him, and the game’s AI constructs usually have to be told.
“It’s good to meet you, meister,” she said.
“Come. The council wishes to palaver.”
Jet followed the old man through the massive chamber. There were a number of columns made from brilliant alabaster so bright Jet couldn’t look directly upon them for very long. The floors appeared to be made of polished marble. In the center of the room, an enormous golden ball emitted the brightest luminescence she’d ever seen in the game.
“The council’s chambers are just beyond the great seal,” the old man said, pointing onward.
“Are you coming?” she asked.
“What the council has to say is for you to hear, not I. Remember, once you pass the seal you may not return.”
“Why? If I can’t come back, then where will I end up?”
