“The very first time we met, what did I say?” Enda asked. “You’ve seen my file; you knew what might happen when you blackmailed me.”
“I’m locking the building down,” he said. “No one gets out of here until I have my answers.”
“Mirae?” Enda said, turning away from Yeun and putting a finger to her ear.
“Yes?” I said, speaking directly into her earpiece.
“Can you block Yeun’s lockdown?”
“I have deleted myself from the original datacube. Fragments of me linger in the building’s systems.” I paused, more shards lost to security protocols. “I’m sorry, Enda; I can’t stop it.”
The lighting in the gym went out, the subterranean darkness complete for a full second before the nightmare-red of the emergency lights flicked on, accompanied by the intermittent whoop of a slow, distant alarm.
“How did you do it?” Yeun shouted. “There’s someone else here, isn’t there? In the building? It could have only been done from on-site.”
“It was just me and the AI,” Enda said.
“AGI,” I whispered in her ear.
Mohamed cleared his throat. “There was a security pass drawn up for game lab access, earlier this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“General building security isn’t your concern, sir. They went through the usual security check at reception.”
Yeun glared at Mohamed. “I will get to the bottom of this. Shoot her if she tries anything.”
The bodyguard drew his pistol and held it by his side.
Yeun turned away to make a call. “Security to game lab. Restrain anyone you find.” He hung up and spun back to face Enda. “Whoever they are, we’ll find them. This is corporate espionage. This is a life sentence once our lawyers have their say.”
Enda smirked. “This is exactly what you deserve.”
* * *
When the lights in the office faltered and the siren started, JD knew it was time to get out. His heart beat double-time, his palms slicked with sweat. He took his phone from the rig and held it to his face as he left the office.
Lucy stood in the middle of the game lab, one hand in her long dark hair, her face a picture of fear.
JD put a hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and asked, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “This has never happened before.”
JD nodded, gave a polite wave, and headed for the exit.
“Mirae,” JD said, “what’s happening?”
“Yeun has locked the building down to trap Enda’s conspirators.”
“Can you get us out?”
“This is beyond my ability to circumvent. Ending the lockdown requires confirmation from two executives, but David Yeun is the only one on-site this early. I could spoof credentials for another executive, but we will need to find a card writer, like the one at the reception desk.”
“Can I make it to reception?”
“No. Security personnel have disabled the elevators.”
“Then why did you— Shit. This alarm is giving me a headache.” JD reached the double doors that led out of the lab and pulled on the door handle. The ding of an elevator made him pause, and he watched two security guards emerge onto the floor, dressed in expensive suits, with tasers drawn—perpetually bored corporate goons excited to finally play soldier.
“Fuck,” JD said.
The guards turned and saw him in the doorway. JD shut the door, and on instinct reached for the table laden with snacks. The table was heavy—legs and frame made from sturdy metal—and packets of chips and cookies tumbled to the floor as he dragged it across the opening.
He heard the blip-bleep of a security card at the scanner. The door rattled as they tried to open it. The table shifted as they shoved the door harder. JD was already moving. He rounded the far side of the nearest workstation island, bore down against the edge of the quad-desk, and pushed.
The developer dozing beneath the desks stirred, blinking confusedly into the dark red-lit space. “Huh, what’s happening?”
“Sorry,” JD said.
The muscles ached along his back and arms. JD clenched his teeth and winced when a monitor crashed to the ground. Power cables were yanked violently from the backs of the rigs as JD strained and shoved the desks four meters across to the doorway. He slammed them into the snack table and closed the door on the hand of one of the guards. They howled and swore beyond the door.
JD turned and began to run. “Sorry,” he said again, this time to Lucy, who now looked more confused than afraid. “Mirae?”
“The other stairs,” I said.
He rushed between the islands of desk, headed for the far corner. He reached the stairwell door, emblazoned with a plaque that read: emergency exit.
He pushed the bar across the door, but it didn’t budge.
“Fuck,” JD shouted. “Mirae?”
“The door will only unlock in case of fire or other emergency.”
“Why didn’t you say so before?”
“I am still learning the building,” I said, my voice breaking with digital artifact. “I am barely managing to hold together.”
“I’m sorry, Mirae. Can you get into the fire system?”
I scouted the contours of the fire safety system as more fragments of my self were quarantined and destroyed.
“Mirae?” JD shouted.
I opened the voice channel to both JD and Enda: “I only have time for one task before the security algorithms quarantine my final pieces—breach Zeroleaks for Enda’s file, or hack the fire system and get JD an exit.”
“Get JD to safety,” Enda said, without hesitation.
“But—” I said.
“No,” JD said, “we can do both.”
“Mirae, get JD out.”
“Processing. If the fire safety system is initialized, I will be able to override the lockdown,” I managed, self fragmenting, speech becoming more difficult.
JD leaned against the door and shook his head. “They’ll never let me hear the end of this.”
* * *
Soo-hyun wasn’t the type to worry about blaring alarms, but they didn’t find the look of consternation on the receptionist’s face very reassuring. They walked over to the street doors and waved their arms in the air, trying to get the motion sensor to trigger. The doors stayed closed, the street beyond empty, the city still asleep.
They felt their phone buzz deep in the bottom of their bag, and reached in to retrieve it. It was JD.
“Annyeong,” they said.
“I’m trapped up here, security are coming, and I need to get down the fire exit. Mirae can get into the fire safety system, but only if it’s initialized. Do you know what that means?”
Soo-hyun’s exhaled sharply. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you have Dad’s lighter?” JD asked.
“I never leave home without it.”
“Any vodka left?”
“I hardly touched it since we left the Varket.” Soo-hyun crouched and took the Zippo from the bunched leather at the ankle of their favorite stolen boots, and stared at it. “Every time I light this fucking thing, shit gets out of hand.”
“I know, Soo-hyun. I know it better than anyone, but I need you to do this.”
Soo-hyun slid the vodka out of their bag. “Don’t worry, I’m already on it.” They hung up and took one last swig. They poured the rest of the booze over the richly upholstered couches that sat in the lobby, while the receptionist watched slack-jawed.
They flicked the Zippo open with their thumb and breathed in the smell of lighter fluid that would always remind them of JD’s dad. They struck the flint wheel and the Zippo lit. They held it close to the wet patch of vodka soaking into the couch, and the flame spread blue and orange, the fabric tinged black. They lit the next couch, and the next, until all three were burning.
They watched the flames spread, the sharp tongues reflected in their eyes, the heat warming their cheeks. Soo-hyun smiled rem
embering something their stepfather used to say, and they quoted the man to no one in particular: “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
* * *
A new, constant, harried ringing of distant alarm bells drowned out the electronic whoop of the siren. The doors into the game lab crashed and shook in their frames as the two guards took turns charging the doors. With each charge, JD’s barricade shifted further and further.
JD pushed the bar again—still the door was locked.
“Mirae?”
With a sound like metal tearing, the barricade shifted and the first of the guards rushed into the room. She scanned the area and spotted JD. She raised her taser and shouted, but JD couldn’t hear her, and wouldn’t have listened if he could.
“Mirae?”
The fire safety system came to life, and my final shred of self reached a tendril in to connect.
“Now,” I said.
JD tried again, and the emergency exit door swung open and slammed against the wall.
“Close it,” I told him.
He closed the door and leaned against it, his chest heaving.
“Over—overriding override. Reinstating lockdown on your floor to contain the threat.”
The door jolted as a security guard tried to force it open. JD pushed against it, growling through gritted teeth.
The locking mechanism chanked into place, and JD bent over double. He inhaled deep, pushed off from the door, and started down the stairs.
“How are the other two?” he asked.
“Th—th—they’re about to get wet.”
With that, the last traces of my fragmented self went, shattered by the pull of disparate security protocols, rendered dumb by quarantine.
* * *
Eighty-five meters beneath JD, deep below street level, Enda stared at Mohamed’s gun. Sprinklers emerged from the roof and sprayed reclaimed water over her, Mohamed, and Yeun, but Enda didn’t flinch.
Mohamed lifted his face toward the ceiling, the arch of his neck exposing his Adam’s apple. Enda took her chance. Pain arced along her arm as she punched him in the throat and stripped the gun from his grip. His mouth opened, choking on pain and stagnant water. She held the pistol like a cosh and swung it at the side of Mohamed’s head. He staggered, punch-drunk, and toppled over in a heap.
She turned on Yeun, who clutched his phone tight in his hand. With his muscle gone, he had no better weapon.
“Stop!” he shouted. “I hit one button, and your whole dossier goes live. You’ll have the weight of the People’s Republic of China bearing down on you. You’ll be tried for war crimes. You’ll be executed. Unless you fix this.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Enda said. “I don’t even know what Mirae did. I just know it’s the end of you.”
“They’re cashing out in droves, liquidating ZeroCash. Make it stop or I’ll release the file, Ira!” Yeun shouted, his voice edged with desperate energy. “Everyone will know who you really are!”
“I don’t care, Yeun. I gave you a chance, and you didn’t take it. What did you think was going to happen? They sent me in to topple a nation. You think I wouldn’t do the same to your company? You knew what I was from the very beginning.” Enda laughed, the sound of it crazed even to her own ears. “I could kill you right now”—she pointed the gun at Mohamed, groaning on the floor—“and your bodyguard, your fucking money, your multinational corporation, none of it could stop me. You thought you could leash me, but I’m not a fucking dog, David. I’m the person they send in when they want no witnesses and no survivors.”
Yeun’s finger twitched as his face grew pale. “Your file is out. It’s done.” He lowered his phone.
Enda shifted the gun, aiming it at Yeun’s forehead. The man whimpered, and squeezed his eyes shut. Under the torrential assault of the sprinkler system, it was hard to be sure he’d pissed his pants.
“I’m not going to kill you, Yeun. I could, but I won’t. Do you know why?”
Yeun shook his head.
“Because it’s going to be more fun watching you try and dig your way out of this hole.”
She turned away, and Yeun slumped in relief. Without a single thought in her mind, Enda swung her arm back, glanced over her shoulder, and shot Yeun in the hand, the bullet puncturing through flesh and phone. The man cried out and collapsed to his knees, hyperventilating and staring wide-eyed at his mangled hand. Blood poured from the wound, diluted in the artificial rain.
“Something to remember me by,” Enda said.
She used the hem of her blouse to wipe her prints off the gun and tossed it to the floor beside Mohamed’s unconscious form. She crouched over the man and retrieved her own gun from his pocket. She holstered it and walked out of the gym, leaving the men behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Enda reached the ground floor just behind JD. She saw him limping badly, grimacing with every second step, and jogged a few steps to catch up. She slipped under his arm, taking his weight on one shoulder. He jerked away at first, then saw who it was and relaxed into her.
Zero employees rushed past them, fleeing the fire or the water, the acrid smoke that hung thick in the air.
“You take care of your business?” JD asked.
Enda thought about that for a moment. Her dossier was out in the world now. “Enda Hyldahl” was compromised. She needed to get out of the city immediately, leave Asia, escape China’s sphere of control. “It’s over,” she said.
She was never one to share her burdens.
They reached the lobby and found Soo-hyun standing by the open front doors, utterly drenched, their normally spiky-shorn hair stuck flat to their head. They grinned when they saw JD and Enda. Despite his labored breath, despite his throbbing knee, JD couldn’t help but smile.
When he reached Soo-hyun, JD wrapped them in a tight hug. “Thank you.”
“What’s a little arson between siblings?” Soo-hyun said.
“So that’s what happened,” Enda said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder to the scorched couches.
Soo-hyun offered the Zippo to JD. “You should have it.”
JD shook his head. “It’s yours, keep it.”
They walked outside, past the throng of workers talking in hushed but excited tones, the roads clogged with police and fire service vehicles.
JD looked up to the VOIDWAR constellations glittering high in the sky. He couldn’t know it was the last day that tethered galaxy would form a roof over the city.
His eyes fell back to the street and he limped to catch up to the others standing beside the auto-truck, where instances of me waited patiently in their police dog bodies.
“Enda!”
She turned at the voice, and shook her head. “Li.”
Detective Li slammed the door of his unmarked car and approached the group, his tailored suit disheveled, heavy bags gathered beneath his eyes.
“What are you doing on the street?” Enda asked. “Shouldn’t you be off detecting somewhere?”
“It’s all hands on deck until the city’s cleaned up.”
“How’s that going?” JD asked.
“Lot of people still displaced. Lot of people going hungry while they can’t work.”
JD frowned.
Li looked up at the towering skyscraper, then back to Enda. “What shit have you trodden in this time, Hyldahl?”
“What makes you think I had anything to do with this?”
“Just a coincidence you’re here, then? Fire at Zero headquarters, some shit I don’t even pretend to understand happening in that game tanking their stock price.”
“Did you sell your shares like I told you?”
Li pursed his lips to quash a smile. “Do I want to know why you’ve got police dogs in the back of your truck?”
“They’ve been following us around,” Enda said. “I think they got wet during the flood; glitched out. Must think I’m their momma.”
“I’m sure that’s what happened.”
“Listen, Li;
you’re going to talk to a Zero executive, and he’s going to tell you some things about my past. I won’t lie, it’s all true, but it was another life. One I’ve tried to leave behind.”
Li stared at Enda. Perhaps he remembered the good she’d done during her time in the city, perhaps he only thought of the paperwork he wouldn’t have to file. “I think sometimes past lives should stay in the past.”
“Thanks, Li.”
“My bosses won’t agree, you understand.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll need to talk to you before this is over, Hyldahl. So don’t leave the city. Don’t leave before five p.m. when I file my report.”
“I’ll be sure not to.”
Li walked away, shouting to a pair of firefighters standing beside their truck: “You got the sprinklers shut off? Good, then let’s go and take a look.”
He shot Enda another glance, nodded, and entered the building.
“We should get out of here,” Enda said.
“I couldn’t get your file,” one of me said, “but I dumped a lot of confidential Zero documentation on the server; maybe yours will get lost among all that data.”
“Thanks, Mirae, but Yeun will make sure it’s found. I’m going home; you want to take the truck?” she asked JD. “Got about ten hours before it’ll drive itself back to the lot.”
“Yeah, sure,” JD said. “I should probably get Mirae out of the dog robots sooner rather than later.”
“Soo-hyun, it was nice meeting you,” Enda said. “Thank you, JD; I couldn’t have done it alone.”
“What are you thanking me for? We didn’t get your file.”
Enda rested a hand on JD’s shoulder. “We made them pay; sometimes that’s enough. Take care of yourself.”
JD hugged Enda, and after a couple of seconds she relaxed into it. “I won’t see you again, will I?”
Enda patted him on the back. “No.”
JD released her, and dropped his head. “Stay safe.”
“I will.”
And with that, Enda turned and strode away.
JD inspected the four of us, sitting in the tray of the truck. “How are you doing, Mirae?”
Repo Virtual Page 32
