by Russ Linton
Jackie peered around the corner. The lab looked much like the concrete structure and metal roof of the hospital they'd passed, only in miniature. This one also had an iron metal fence spaced with brick posts.
Low, easily scalable, the fence wasn't much about security, mostly for keeping scooters or cars from the free and empty parking lot. A full gate blocked the drive. A guard stood by. She wished she'd been able to bring her camera. They expected a search at the lab, and she didn't need them browsing her photos.
"Who do you think is behind this if it isn't China or The Collective? We're technically in Indian territory, but the 'down with the U.S.' vibe has a more Pakistani intelligence feel. Is this Cyrus guy going solo?"
"Don't know. Not sure I care," Ember replied. "You ready?"
"Sure. But what about Spencer...the Black Beetle?"
"He's out there. He knows where the lab is and hasn't crashed the gate yet, so either he's being a good boy and waiting for the professionals to handle this or he's fucked off and gone home. Either way, he isn't our concern."
"ANYTHING?" I ASK.
"Negative," Wormfood replies. "Seismic activity, geothermal pressure, and heat levels normal in designated radius."
"Oh yeah, this is all normal. Everything's normal."
"Affirmative."
Outside the armor, I rub my hands together in what is slightly more than brisk air. I'm having bunker flashbacks. No clue what the season is here, but I know we're at altitude. It isn't necessarily that cold, but my jeans and t-shirt are drenched from being cooped up in my grimly determined weapons platform.
"Say the name of this place again."
And the text to speech goes off the rails. Wormfood spits out a syllable salad which I'm certain isn't the proper pronunciation. Srinagar, it had said on screen. "Sree-nag-arrr," I stutter through an attempt. "Mark this place off the bucket list for me. Vegas, too."
Flying into the city overnight, it hadn't been hard to avoid detection. What street lights there were gave off sickly glows. Toughest thing had been threading through the quilt of telephone and electrical cable strewn haphazardly from corner to corner and rooftop to rooftop.
The empty shell of a building I've found isn't insulated. Bare brick walls and a metal garage door, this might have been built for a mechanical shop or garage. Unfortunately, they neither left any tools behind nor did they pay up the heating bill. Didn't even finish the roof, which made breaking in a lot easier.
I thought maybe it was a construction site and I'd have to worry about being discovered when the workers showed up. Now, in broad daylight, I don't think anyone's worked on this place in years. An abandoned project of some kind. Suits me, I hadn't planned to be here long.
With all the extra time, I've managed to get the Gravitational Shockwave Cannon online. It might be good for one shot. It might blow my arm off. But I'll need all the extra firepower I can get. Ayana and Xamse loaded the ammo, and they didn't show much respect for Hound and Danger. Speaking of those guys...
"What's taking them so long?"
"Command not recognized."
All vivisected, his innards on display, Wormfood is trying to be helpful. Fuck. I'm talking like he's a real person.
I wander away and tuck my multitool back into Dad's mask. I pause and run my thumb on the flaking surface. Each time I do this, a little more of the grime goes away. Most of the stains are permanent, and the surface has begun to flake. Stuffing it in my back pocket, I pick up a pebble and toss it at Wormfood's dented boots, and it strikes with a hollow ring.
"What, no incoming fire warning?"
"Threat not detected."
"Right," I sigh, staring up through the hole in the unfinished roof.
Hours ago, rage had fueled me all the way across Pakistani airspace. It took an act of will to not seek out the air defenses Wormfood occasionally warned me about and trigger their assault, just so I could blast them into bits. But Hound was right about keeping a low profile.
Fucking Eric. Whatever his part in all this, I can't believe a word he says. Why did he even come out here? I figured he was watching his little toy drones get grounded. That much I knew. I just didn't think he'd leave his throne to see it for himself.
Then there's Mom. She shows up now? I want to talk to her, find out where she's been, what she's been doing, but at this point, there are some things it's better she doesn't know about me. Not that I can keep secrets from her. Not that she hasn't seen the news. I just can't...I can't face her, not until this is done.
She's out there, though. I can feel her waiting just on the other side of a mental doorway, a framed-out section of white, gauzy light, sorta like back when I visited Charlotte's treehouse and leapt through the door into the void outside. I've made sure not to sleep since I saw her. She knows I'm avoiding her, but she's keeping her distance too. She has to know I need this.
"Heat variation detected exceeding established parameters in designated radius."
Yep, I need to end this. Vulkan.
"Mounting up," I say.
CHAPTER 45
JACKIE HAD NEVER WORKED undercover as a reporter. On plenty of assignments, she'd needed to keep a low profile. Places where reporters were viewed as potential spies, or targets for kidnapping, were growing more common. Regimes had even become more brazen in silencing opposing voices. But she'd never taken on another identity.
She stood as docile and withdrawn as she could while Ember went back and forth with the guard. Jackie had never been more aware of her own lack of femininity as she was now. Every subtle mannerism she had she'd subconsciously modeled on her father, she realized. And memories of her mother were footage of an Augment in action. Decisive, unafraid, committed to a direction without worrying about what people thought, that's what Jackie had strived to become.
Being the opposite of that, even for a few minutes, or an hour, was hard. Scary. She felt vulnerable. Afraid she'd be the one to get them detected and spoil the operation before it even began.
The man stabbed his hand toward her, and she surprised herself by flinching. Keeping her eyes low, she tried to decipher the conversation.
Ember had persisted with her role, addressing the guard in Mandarin, and ignoring his exasperated replies. The man erupted in a stream of Pashto, Hindi, and finally broken English as he warded them away from the gate in a frustrated dance. With heavy accent and feigned difficulty, Ember forced out the word "Appointment" in her native English.
"No appointment today," the man insisted, his turban bobbing. He wore a gray security uniform but wasn't armed, and Jackie could tell Ember was reaching her limit for subtlety.
"We traveled all night," Jackie said, tossing Arabic into the mix of languages. "We're new friends. This is a new appointment. We might be early." Each word she spoke to the ground, not the man.
The guard showed some recognition. He let out an exasperated hiss and wagged a finger. "You wait here," he said, once in English, once more in Pashto before slipping through the gate and locking it shut behind him.
"If the whole point of this was to get inside without a scene," Ember whispered, "he could've been ash in less time."
Jackie detected a hint of seriousness. "Then what? We burn down the door? Burn our way into the lab? That wouldn't cause a scene. Besides," she indicated the door across the parking lot where the security guard had paused. He didn't enter immediately but instead waited outside, looking up and to his left.
"Cameras," muttered Ember. "Eric, that little shit should've told us."
"Maybe he didn't know." Jackie continued the muttered conversation through her veil.
"It's his job. He did these briefings back at Whispering Pines. He didn't used to miss things that often." The admission came almost reluctantly from Ember.
"Boy, when you guys decided to go your separate ways it was a real Charlie Foxtrot."
Ember only nodded. Just then the lab's door opened, and the guard emerged. He strode across the parking lot, not looking at either of them.
Ember backhanded Jackie's thigh. "Nice work."
Without acknowledging either, the guard opened the gate wide to let them pass. Back to their roles, both entered with their heads down. Ember muttered thanks in Mandarin. He closed the gate behind them and trailed them to the door. Jackie noted the guard made the same pause and she heard the door lock click before he ushered them inside.
The guard remained outside and let the door swing closed. Jackie tightened when she heard the same lock re-engage. She glanced at Ember who was scoping out the waiting room. Maybe not the best person to share a building violating fire codes.
Outside had appeared finished with painted stucco and red brick. The interior was bare concrete, and the frame around the door protruded nearly a foot into the room. There were no other windows, but the door was glass at least, braided with wire mesh. A heavy metal door occupied the far wall. Two plastic lawn chairs sat in the center.
"Please step away from the door." The instructions drifted down to them from somewhere in the ceiling. Arabic. Jackie looked at Ember for recognition, but she didn't react, her eyes darting. With a gentle push, she guided Ember further inside.
A cascading rattle of metal erupted behind them. Jackie jumped. Ember made a more aggressive move, raising one hand and whirling to face the door. A segmented metal plate had dropped into place, sealing them in and throwing the room into darkness. Remembering their impromptu lessons, Jackie placed a hand on Ember's arm to signal for restraint.
"Do not be alarmed," said the voice, calm and soothing, still speaking in Arabic. Lights flickered on. "Please, have a seat."
Ember had done her best to settle back into her role, but Jackie could see she was confused. Neither dared to speak, unsure if they would be heard. Like leading the blind, Jackie guided Ember toward the chairs. They lowered into them but never fully relaxed.
"Which of you is the applicant?"
Jackie could tell Ember still couldn't understand. Likely she recognized the language but hadn't ever learned it. Her eyes darted to Jackie then back toward the ceiling. She was listening, intently, though maybe not to the words.
"I am," replied Jackie. They'd gone this far as per the plan, no need to start panicking, yet.
"And she is?"
"This is my mother. She is...she is very scared. She does not approve and demanded to come with me."
"Don't worry," said the voice, echoing inside the tight space. "Your daughter will be in good hands."
"What are you going to do?" asked Jackie.
"What did our agent tell you? Why did you come here?"
Jackie mentally ran through their cover story trying to recall the names and dates. She almost recited her entire fabricated life story and then stopped herself. A warm hand gripped her knee.
Ember said something to her pleasantly, in Mandarin, her eyes flicking toward the thick inner door across the room. A sudden eagerness was plain in her voice despite Jackie's inability to translate. She had no doubt Ember could turn the metal door into a glowing puddle, but she didn't want to give up their cover just yet. She placed her hand on top of hers.
"Could your mother speak in Arabic?"
"Yes mother," Jackie said, pretending to reply to Ember's statement. "You can come with me. That is okay, right?" She asked the hidden voice.
"The procedure is simple, and we've made it very safe."
"But what does it do?" Jackie insisted.
"You haven't yet answered my question."
"We met your agent near our home, in Qinghai province. He told me you would help me. I wish to find my sister." The voice didn't respond. Jackie worried she hadn't answered correctly. The silence demanded more of her. "She was taken from us when I was young. I grew up... I grew up with this emptiness where she should be." Unable to stop it, her voice cracked. The hand on her knee tightened.
"Do you know where she was taken? Who took her?"
"Infidels," Jackie stated using the term she'd heard on every patrol, at every wayward bomb or missile site, at every martyr's grave where she photographed the anguish to record the loss and provide meaning. "A place in America, promising brighter futures. But I have heard these were lies."
"And what do you want us to do?"
How much were the recruits told? The instructions Eric had recited only told recruiters who to target, not what to say to convince them. Whatever the agents revealed had to be compelling. A young woman had come here alone all the way from Landigal, a valley which most women born to might never leave. Opportunity, poverty, tradition, kept them shackled while men from across a vast sea, continents away, came to pursue their wars. Jackie searched for the same pain in herself and tried to imbue her words with it.
"I want justice," she began. Her throat constricted, and she croaked out more words. "I want to be reunited with my family in a way my...my sister would understand. If she flies on angel’s wings, I want to soar beside her. If she burns...burns in the fires of hell, I want to burn with her. Whatever fate she's been given, I have longed to share. But mostly, I want to be powerful enough to have said I did all I could for her. That in the end, I'd found her, and she knew me."
Jackie released several more quivering breaths into the empty room. Her mother gripped her hand tightly. Unable to make a literal translation, she'd been transfixed by every word.
A mechanical buzz sounded from the metal door.
"Take the first door on your left. There will be a room where you can change into a gown. I am the only doctor here, and I am a male, so you must make this small concession to pursue your justice." The speaker clicked, ending the connection. Another click, and it sprang to life. "Your mother, she may accompany you."
Jackie nodded and rose. She pretended to assist Ember, and it felt like the Augment needed it. Her mother searched her face, intuitively understanding what had happened, but still hungry for the details. Later. For once, they'd have time together later.
Through the door, they found a hallway with several doors and the small examination room. Jackie put on the gown in silence. Ember started to question her but then glared suspiciously at the ceiling. When Jackie got to her pendant, she stopped.
Carefully, she raised it over her head and then pressed it into Ember's hand.
Ember stared at the small, black cylinder, and unspoken words caught in her throat. They hadn't thought this out well. Neither could use a language the other understood without compromising their cover. Then again, they didn't need to say anything.
Jackie kept her face low, maintaining their observed habits. Soon, the voice spoke again and directed her down the hall to another secure door. They passed a closed door with a sign indicating Authorized Personnel Only. When they reached the next station at the far end, there was a distant buzz, a cascade of sliding bolts and locks and their next door opened automatically.
Beyond was the lab. A glass partition screened a rectangular antechamber. A man in surgical scrubs stood at a sink with his back to them, washing his hands. An operating table occupied the middle, propped into a forty-five-degree angle. Surgical equipment lined stainless steel cabinets and a computer sat against the glass partition, facing away from the observation room. One wall held a latched door, no more than waist high and square. She'd seen a hatch like it before, in a coroner's office.
"Come in," the man said above the spray of water into the sink. His voice entered the observation room over an intercom. "I'll need you on the table."
The entry past the glass observation room was a short, contained tunnel. Jackie hesitantly stepped into the space, her bare feet needled by a perforated floor. Doors slid shut behind her. There was a moment of panic, both her and Ember as they watched each other through a tiny window. Jackie reminded herself how flimsy the metal would be in the face of Ember's raw power. She quickly signaled she'd be okay. She was safe with the powerful Augment at her back.
"I'm sorry for the surprise. Your mother needs to wait in the observation room. It's for her own safety." The doctor contin
ued to speak while he arranged a tray. "I need to decontaminate you as part of the procedure. Don't be alarmed."
A powerful jet of air blasted Jackie on all sides. She struggled to keep the gown from being torn away. With the air came a strange substance. Powdery, though she couldn't feel it once it struck her, it filled the tunnel. Fog settled into a dry mist and gradually faded. A red light above the exit into the lab turned green, and then the tunnel opened.
"The table please," said the doctor. Buried in his preparations, he walked right past her without looking. "We have some requirements you must agree to before we begin. After that, we have a simple dose from this."
He indicated a prepared syringe. Jackie stared and couldn't take her eyes off it. The contents glimmered with a bio-luminescent power. Increasingly she felt drawn into a dream. They had a mission here, an assignment. That's why she'd come, right?
Jackie padded to the table. Since passing through the first metal doors, she'd felt as though she were on a great journey which had come to an end. Through the foggy chamber and into the lab, she'd completed a final rite. Words she'd spoken in the waiting room settled about her like an ermine cloak.
Inside this room where Augments were forged, having found her mother, she was struck by the sudden realization. There'd been no need to carry on the ruse for this long. A force drove her now. Ember watched her from the observation room, her hand pressed against the glass with the pendant entwined around her fingers.
Maybe they were all finally together to witness. Maybe they didn't stop this, Jackie thought. Maybe this was how it should be.
The doctor turned, his surgical mask around his neck. His smile beneath a thick, enviable mustache, faded. "I...have we met? You look..." Shock ran through him and the clipboard he held clattered to the ground.
Jackie felt a wave of heat unlike any she'd ever experienced. Microscopic burning flecks struck her exposed skin sending tiny pinches of pain across her body. She shielded her watering eyes even as the temperature scorched them dry. A searing odor she felt sure was glass being sent backward through the elemental processes which created it struck her nose.
