by Rick Royster
"Turn facial recognition on citywide. If anyone has arrived in the last twelve hours and fits my target's description, I want to be notified. Tell your peacekeepers they are under my jurisdiction and will be directed by my Centurions. Obviously, don't make any announcements to any civilians or non-executive government officials or enforce a curfew. I don't want to spook my quarry. You should be prepared to mobilize fire and medical authorities to engage in tier-level-four triage operations, but only after I instruct you to. Hopefully, casualties will be light, and if you are lucky, fatalities should be limited to a handful."
Clay swallowed hard. The calmness with which Sateria delivered her instructions even when describing the likely mutilation and death of innocent people deeply disturbed him. It was a type of callous coolness which chilled his soul. "As you wish, thine will be done." Clay bowed his head but kept both eyes on Sateria.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
In modern war, you will die like a dog for no good reason.
― Ernest Hemmingway
Matrix stepped out of the air taxi as traffic moved along smoothly in Region Four. The automated sky-cars flowed freely at high speed but orderly and without risk of collision - no individual drivers were around during peak hours, only public transportation operated by expertly crafted AI. The city transit system was like one of the old-style amusement park rides; twelve to twenty passenger cars moved at a brisk pace, stopping at every other block in sequence and always on time, quite unlike the man who sat perched beneath an ominous high-rise.
Matrix watched his ex-wife's building for an hour or so, reflecting on his choices most recent and those from the past. Decades ago, after reconsidering his position in the military, he too had weighed the possibility of leaving his wife.
At the time, it had seemed like the rational thing to do. He had been consumed by his career which had exposed him to the ugliness of conflict and highlighted how great the pre-war past must have been. Both the time spent away, and his own growing malaise had made Matrix constantly late to spend time with his spouse, which in turn led to miscommunications, misunderstanding, and arguments. When they were together, disagreement over the trivial became a daily activity, and whenever a significant problem between them would arise, the feuding would last for months.
The first week Matrix left her, he was elated. He felt as if he had dropped one of two millstones from his neck and was readying to release another as he prepared to disappear into Zone 6.
However, a month after he had deserted within the bowels of Zone 6, he had become certain all attempts to find him had been abandoned, and he started to feel a vague discomfort. At first, he dismissed it as subconscious, persistent nervousness from being in a dangerous environment, but then the feeling began to manifest as an aching loneliness whose genesis was obvious: leaving his wife.
That same pang began to afflict Matrix as he looked up at his spouse's residence and he couldn't help but think this renewed sensation's origin was from leaving Tressa. Had he really done the right thing?
He hadn't been able to make contact with Sam. Fortunately, the kid knew enough to go into the black and forgo taking any chances to openly contact him.
Matrix crept across the street, taking great care to search for GU security forces in the area. Satisfied he wasn't being watched, he entered the building across from his former partner's. In the lobby, a live broadcast on the holo-net showed an accident at the sky-port.
He walked past the doorman, whom he had known for years. He saw the slight hesitation in the man's demeanor before he let him through. Ignoring the concierge, Matrix made his way to the elevator, but not without taking note of the denizens of the lobby.It was a motley assortment of men and women along with a couple of children, all of them normally dressed but nonetheless, something seemed off about them.
His heart raced; had he bought trouble to his ex-wife? It would be yet one more reason she had to hate him. But he needed to lie low for a week or so and get himself to a city not controlled by the Global Union, and one where the Coalition wouldn't come looking for him.
Cansu was his best option of achieving that.
He took the elevator up, noting his surroundings but keeping his demeanor calm. He made one more glance around the lobby. A woman kept surreptitiously checking her wristwatch; a couple of men were engaged in quiet conversation, while the two kids were drawing on pads, and a young man of indeterminate age and intent kept a pair of piercing eyes on him.
The turbo lift took him to the fifth floor; the doors opened to a clear hallway. Maybe it was nerves, but something disturbed him.
He reached the door and waved his hand over the keypad; five locks for each finger turned from red to blue. The air hissed as the doors split open, and he walked inside, Cansu was there, sitting on the couch, her back to him. She was wearing a towel around her head and a blue robe. She had a holo-tube programming running at low volume.
"Honey, I'm home," Matrix said, as he pulled out his weapon and scanned the living room. "Bet you never thought you'd hear that again, eh?"
She didn't look back, just sat dead still on the sofa.
His heart squeezed, he approached, was she...?
He reached out to touch her shoulder, and he felt a sharp pain in his wrist. He was then yanked forward and pulled over the couch.
With a thud, Matrix landed on his back. He glanced up, saw the holograms wandering around him as if he was in the middle of a sitcom. Bright blue eyes came into focus. When the towel was removed, he saw the blonde hair and familiar face.
"Winter?" He sat up, his right hand, which had held his laser gun a moment ago, now empty. She was either a lot better than he remembered, or he was just really old and slow.
"We need your help," Winter said.
Matrix got to his feet, seeing Cayden emerge from the kitchen and Rhys from the bathroom. "My help? Where's my wife? What are you doing here?".
Rhys lowered his weapon.
Cayden folded his arms across his chest.
Matrix turned back to Winter and waited for a response.
"You don't understand what's at stake. If the Global Union gets its hands on the Cube, they could destroy all that the Coalition have worked to build," Winter exclaimed. "You need to help us."
"Of course," Matrix nodded. "My wife? Where is she?"
"Cansu? Your ex-wife wasn't here when we arrived. I was able to track your whereabouts when I saw you were in this area, it was easy to figure out where you would go," Winter said.
"And if we figured it out, that bounty hunter must have figured it out as well," Rhys said.
"That bounty hunter looked an awful lot like your girlfriend," Matrix said, shooting a fierce glance at Cayden which Winter quickly mimicked out of shock and anger.
Rhys chuckled at Cayden. "Sateria is tracking Tressa with two Federation legionaries; she will find her."
Matrix walked past Winter, toward the door. "I'm no longer apart of the Coalition; it's no longer my fight. When I realized what was on the Cube, I told Tressa she was on her own."
Cayden stepped toward him. "You will help us find her. If that device falls into the hands of the Global Uni–"
"While I don't agree with what Tressa did, she's doing this for her daughter. That's more than I can ever say for your Coalition. You can conjure up as many boogiemen as you please. Your propaganda won't move me," Matrix exclaimed with passion.
"Daughter?" Cayden exchanged puzzled looks with Winter and Rhys.
"She never had a child; it's forbidden for-" Rhys said with an air of genuine bafflement.
Matrix laughed. "She was fourteen and all alone before she joined the Coalition. No one knew about her kid because Tressa was so young, no one thought to ask."
Matrix turned and headed for the door. The hot stares could have scorched his back.
"We can't just let you leave, Captain," Winter said.
"No one's called me that in a while. Well, darling, you stole my gun...." Matrix made a fumbling motion of hi
s hand, stared at it in consternation. "You want to stop me; I assume you know how to use it."
Winter then began to raise the pistol to hip height.
"Captain. You know some of those men. If you don't help us," Cayden swiftly interjected, "they will die. All of them. And if the Global Union finds her..."
Matrix looked out the doorway. He didn't feel like running and while he had his reasons to leave the Coalition, they were the good guys in the fight against the Global Union. But Tressa was like a little sister to him. He would never betray her before. Now without giving her the assistance that she needed, maybe he was doing just that. Maybe he could save them both – Tressa and Cansu.
"She's meeting a mercenary named Kwan Chang in Region Twelve. You can be sure it was he who sent her to that sub," Matrix said.
Winter nodded. "So, Kwan must have kidnapped Tressa's daughter for ransom?"
Cayden stepped forward. "Who else was privy to knowing that Tressa had a daughter? And why such precaution? You'd think he'd have met her by now? Why is he stalling?"
Matrix said. "She came to me first because she wanted to know what exactly she was handing over. And she needed new armor which could cloak her as well as a safe space once all of this is over."
Cayden nodded his head, hand still on his chin.
Rhys asked, "Kwan doesn't trust her or someone in her crew. He thinks it’s a trap."
"Here is what I want. You promise to help Tressa find her daughter and no prison time. I'll get you to Hong Kong," Matrix said.
Cayden shook his head no. "Men died. I can't just let her walk."
"She did what she did for her daughter. Each man on that vessel would have given their life to do the same. That's the deal; take it or leave it."
Rhys and Winter's eyes turned to Cayden, who angled his brow and grimaced.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Never interrupt an enemy when he is making a mistake.
― Napoleon
Nero stood inside a coffee shop, sandwiched between a teenage girl and a blue-hair - who literally appeared to have blue hair, either from pushing seventy, cosmetic modifications, or a combination of both - both looking for their morning fix. The girl wore old-style headphones and seemingly didn't realize at what volume she was singing. The elder woman was silent but smelled strongly of mothballs and cigarettes.
Nero endured, but only after he scanned and rescanned his memory files on the law and how it applied to executing foreign citizens for being a public nuisance. They certainly qualified as such. To his dismay, he found nothing which warranted lethally dispatching them.
Ignoring the minor irritants, he drew his attention to Tressa and her traitorous compatriots exiting the train port and starting up the sidewalk. With his hulking size and notorious uniform out on the street, Nero would be as inconspicuous as an elephant on a ski slope.
The GU uniforms, both combat and dress, were designed to be bold and easily identifiable, and not only mark their wearers as a sort of royal but project the strength of the Union.
The candy-apple-colored battle armor with gold-plated insignias weren't exactly designed for stealth, but the dimmed lights in the coffee shop at least could provide some cover for Nero.
He watched her eyes and with barely a glance or two, Tressa had checked out the rooftop and alleyways for danger.
Naturally, she also had her gun hidden and ready for easy access. Most people, even soldiers, wouldn't notice how well Tressa's weapon was hidden, but most people didn't have the enhancements and training of a Centurion. Even factoring his obviously superior performance statistics, Nero noted that she was indeed formidable prey. Fortunately, Nero relished the build-up which came at the beginning of the great hunt.
In keeping with protocol, he should have reported to the others that he knew were Tressa was, but he wanted the kill for himself. Of course, he needed to take special care she didn't see the danger coming, and he imagined a street filled with panicked pedestrians, smoke bombs, and exploding cars. But with all of the civilians and his size, if she were to escape his first attack, he'd never catch her in the crowd.
Sateria was right – they were here. How the human could have predicted this, he had no idea. She rethought her plan and called them in early, but she still wanted to be the first to engage. She thought the Coalition would smell a trap from a mile away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The simulacrum is never what hides the truth-- it is the truth that hides the fact that there is none.
The simulacrum is true.
― Ecclesiastes
Jean Baudrillard
Tressa and Rabbit walked the sidewalk in the downtown district of Region Twelve. Exquisitely rich coffee aromas and freshly baked pastry smells wafted through the air. They walked a few blocks over to the factory where Kwan had set up their meeting. How long had it been since she'd seen her daughter in the flesh? At this point, it had seemed like one, perhaps even several lifetimes ago. She was so different now. Not a homeless, uneducated fourteen-year-old who lived in the slums with only Rabbit beside her for companionship.
She did a recheck of her weapons, ran her hand through her red hair, and wondered if there was a lavatory. She'd like to look her best when her daughter finally laid eyes on her - as if that even mattered now.
Tressa stood on the corner with the widest viewpoint of the 500-meter-long block running east to west. High-rise office buildings stood tall, an elegant mesh of concrete and steel, most standard uniform height and width, a mixture of dark and clear windows - perfect spots for snipers or an ambush. Tressa's mind began to race in an attempt to determine why Kwan insisted on this spot, since it had so many potential liabilities for both of them. If someone was waiting on them, they'd see them clearly from any one of those windows, but as far as she could tell, no one was watching, and no one was on the rooftops.
Potential escape routes were as good as could be expected; there were still large crowds, and she had no qualms about using the roof or going building to building.
There were no choke points. So, she'd have Rabbit line a few of the parked sky-cars with explosives in case a diversion was needed; also, garbage canisters were also an option. There were a few large air-taxis that could hold about a dozen people, but they lacked a skilled driver and obscuring window tints. Tressa knew that Kwan had this place scouted out, so he ultimately would have an advantage - but what was it?
Murphy sat perched grimly up in a parking garage adjacent from them; if things became dire, they'd make their last stand there.
The clouds were a low fire, the last vestiges of daylight giving way to the graying skies.
Tressa walked with Rabbit at her side, feeling the goosebumps of what it would be like to see her daughter again for the first time since she’d been an infant. After getting her daughter to safety, she made a personal vow to hunt Kwan Chang across the planet to retrieve the Cube. But first things first, she would rescue her child, then she would avenge the crew she was forced to betray.
Her mind drifted briefly to Cayden. She knew he’d been picked up by GU fighters so it was possible he was destroyed, on cue. Rabbit was wondering the same thing.
"You think he's dead, Captain?" Rabbit asked.
She gave him a quizzical look.
"Cayden, you think he's dead?" Rabbit repeated.
She glanced at her wrist comm from which Goliath's voice rang through. "I'd have to see them personally cremate his dead body, then put his ashes into a cryogenic chamber, then send a shuttle with his remains to the sun. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll think he might not be coming back."
On their approach to the warehouse, the large doors slid open like the mouth of a monstrous mythical sea-beast. The corridor’s walls were a forest of reflective glass leading to an elevator.
Tressa put her lip to her mouth and whispered. "Still nothing?"
"Negative," Goliath whispered back over the comm link.
She wanted to have the Trojan Cube on her because she didn't wa
nt to give Kwan any reason to punish her daughter, but Goliath talked her out of it in case they were being set up. The elevator doors slid open on her approach, and she and Rabbit moved inside. There were no buttons to choose from, just plain metal walls and steel floors. Air whipped in overhead, and the small box moved to the top floor.
The building was just a shell. From the outside, it looked like a large office building undergoing renovations. Inside was the beginning construction of a paramilitary base. Not only was getting something like this in the heart of GU territory difficult, but it was also extremely dangerous.
Rabbit looked at her, gave her a smile and a squeeze of the hand. Tressa took a deep breath, tried not to worry. They had tried to raise Kwan and his associates by halo-portation and wrist comm several times since arriving, but there had been no response. Tressa wasn't sure it was another play for control; she could only assume Kwan was a very unpredictable and dangerous man. She would not test him as long as he held her daughter.
The doors of the elevator slid open. Rabbit stepped out and glanced around; nothing but an expanse of open space, with a control room on the other side of the building. A metal staircase next to it led to the rooftop.
Tressa was on high alert, expecting a possible ambush.
What would Kwan get by double-crossing her?
She raised her wrist com. "Murph, are you sure we're in the right place?"
"Affirmative, sweet cheeks," the man cheekily replied. The sound of distant thunder could be heard in the background. "Now hurry up and get to it. The temps are dropping quick out here."
She paused, shook her head, rolled her eyes, and re-focused.
Rabbit approached the control room in a low crouch. He carefully measured his steps, glanced over the glass and raised his hand in a fist, motioning for Tressa to stop. The main door was cracked, a long shadow bleeding through the main room. He looked around the corner, tried to get a view through the dark glass.
