“
Oh my God.”
Cookie stopped at the door. “Is he… dead?”
Yeah,
Dan thought. He could see the
man was dead from across the room. He dutifully – though without
any hope – checked for a pulse. Unsurprisingly, he found none.
“Yeah. Dead as a doornail.”
James had landed facedown
on his desk. It looked as if he’d broken his nose and a trickle of
mucous and blood had dripped waxlike onto the white plastic
surface. He’d gravely miscalculated the amount of regenerative
sleep his body needed. The label on his bottle of stimulants
identified it as a hazard, but in his rush to solve the network’s
problems and get home to his wife, he’d chosen to ignore the
warning. The actual cause of death was a clot lodged in his brain.
It was impossible to say with any degree of certainty what had
caused the clot. Many systems in his body had degraded to the point
where arterial clotting was inevitable. It could’ve been deep vein
thrombosis from prolonged periods sitting still or the shock he’d
given his implants several days earlier. It didn’t matter; the
result was the same. He’d lost consciousness and died from a
massive stroke.
Dan gripped James’s stiff
body by the shoulders, pushed it back into the chair, and rolled it
away from the desk.
“
I guess that
explains why he vanished from the network,” Cookie said with a sour
expression.
“
What?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Dan waved at James’s
terminal. “Is this okay?”
Cookie nodded
emphatically. “It’s perfect. I should have access to everything
from here.”
“
Security
included?”
“
Yeah, that
too.” He wasted no time inputting their identities into valid slots
in the security database. It would grant them a certain level of
credibility when they approached the poorly trained security guards
about the devastation in Jackie’s office. Security’s first impulse
would be to validate their identities and the data Cookie was
entering would ensure they’d pass the test.
“
All done.”
Cookie relished cracking his knuckles, free from Samantha’s
critical gaze. “They’ll treat us like dignitaries.”
“
That’ll make
for a pleasant change,” Dan scoffed.
Cookie peaked at
everything James had downloaded from the Raven. It was too
intriguing not to look; peering inside his mind was like staring
into his soul. “Holy shit.” He started panting uncontrollably.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“
What?” Dan
demanded, concerned something had gone horribly wrong.
“
Ah, James
hacked into the Raven’s head before he died,” Cookie explained.
“You’ll never guess what he found.”
Dan had no
idea such things were possible. He blinked at James with a mixture
of surprise and irritation.
Imagine how
easy that information would’ve made it to avoid him! I would’ve
known where and when he was going to strike. I guess it doesn’t
matter much now though.
“What?”
“
Bank account
details.” Cookie’s mouth sprouted a massive grin.
“
And?”
“
Well, that’s
it.” Cookie could see Dan didn’t grasp the enormity of the news.
“He’s dead so he’s not going to want it anymore.” But still Dan
didn’t get it. “Well… don’t you see? With this information we can
access his accounts.”
“
How much?”
Dan asked, finally twigging to Cookie’s line of thought.
“
Seventy
million North American Credits,” James read the balance from the
screen three times to make sure he’d put the decimal point in the
correct place.
Dan whistled
softly.
“
Yeah, you can
say that again.” Cookie’s grin was only getting bigger. “Wait till
we tell Jen, she can finally afford that yacht she
wants.”
“
Five ways
that’s…” Dan performed the calculation in his head. “What, about
fourteen million each?”
Cookie nodded.
Neither man had any scruples about helping himself to the money. As
far as they were concerned, they’d earned it. Besides, the twisted
creature they were stealing it from was dead.
Thank goodness!
At that point, Dan’s
conscience reminded him about Hans. He’d promised to help the
struggling scientist in any way he could. “Make that six
ways.”
“
Six?”
“
Hans van de
Berg,” Dan replied. “He’s the Dutch guy who helped us get into the
Guild, without a key so to speak.”
“
Six ways is
still bloody good.”
But money was
only the second best way Dan could think of helping the man. Taking
over UniForce would afford him a certain degree of
protection.
Then deal with
PortaNet.
Dan wasn’t ready to relax yet; he
still had gritty work to do.
But one thing
at a time.
They had a number of hurdles to
pass before he could claim victory over UniForce.
“
Let’s go find
security.”
“
Yeah, before
they find Samantha.” She’d stayed behind with Simon to guard
Jackie’s office while Cookie tampered with the security
database.
“
And then we
wait for Jen.”
*
Monday
, September
20
, 2066
UniForce
Headquarters
16
:
25
San Francisco, USA
Jen was exhausted. She’d
never known how difficult it was to organise an urgent shareholder
meeting. Now she’d been awake throughout the San Francisco day and
her circadian rhythm was screaming at her for the abuse. She was so
disoriented she didn’t know what time it was or whether she should
be waking up, sleeping, or just heading to bed. All she knew was
that the shareholder meeting would start in five minutes and if it
were successful, they’d be in the clear.
They were all waiting
nervously. Nobody was confident enough to place bets on the
outcome.
They’d spent much of the
previous day with the authorities, answering a swarm of questions
about the incident in Jackie’s office. They’d carefully worked out
their answers in advance and their stories held coherently
together, giving the security forces a bleak image of Esteban’s
loyalty and a glowing portrait of Jen’s courage.
John adjusted his collar
and tie for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Do
I-”
“
You look
fine,” Jen said, interrupting him before he could ask the same
question he’d been asking every five minutes for the past hour.
“Trust me would you? Just stop fidgeting or they’ll see right
through you.”
He summoned his courage
and strapped his arms to his sides. “Wish me luck.”
“
You don’t
need it,” Simon assured him. He was just as exhausted as the others
and looked as if he was ready to sag into a sofa and drift lazily
to sleep. He was starting to forget what his girlfriend Tanya
looked like and intended to apply for leave as soon as he got back
to the office. He was one hour late for work as it was.
Man, the Super’s going to be
pissed.
He’d spent much the day organising
deals and winning shareholder votes. He had several useful contacts
owing to his links with the law enforcement industry. A bit of
pressure here, a favour called there, and suddenly the flow-on
effects ensured that at least one-fifth of the votes would be
affirmative. “You’re a shoe in.”
John took a
steadying breath. “I hope so.” He’d given the situation a great
deal of consideration and realised that his whole life had been
leading to this opportunity. He was nursing the noble goal of
chairing the world’s first socially and environmentally responsible
giga-corporation using the perfect blend of his father’s moral
conviction and economic realities that worked in practice. He
wasn’t naïve enough to believe the other giga-corporations would
stumble over themselves to comply with his new brand of corporate
ethics, but he satisfied himself with the thought that it had to
start somewhere.
And why not with
UniForce?
They were standing in a
nervous huddle in one wing of the stage. Many of the shareholders
had taken the time to attend in person and a sizable crowd had
assembled to watch the proceedings. Others had chosen to watch via
video feed and vote remotely. Jen was just happy they’d amassed the
required percentage to get a binding decision.
“
Okay, I’m
on,” John said quietly before strolling stiffly onto the stage and
standing behind the podium. He was more nervous than he could
remember, but nobody noticed. The room hushed to a respectful
silence.
Jen watched the flicker
of camera flashes from the side and closed within whispering
distance of Dan. “So, what’re you doing afterwards?”
Dan grunted. “If it works
I’m going to need a drink.”
“
And if it
doesn’t?”
“
A new
identity.” Dan grinned despite the serious undertones. “What about
you?”
“
Well, I think
I’ll cash in on that drink you owe me.”
“
Huh?” Dan’s
head spun and he regarded her with awkward suspicion. “What
drink?”
His eyes
changed focus at the same instant the hairs on his neck stood on
end.
Over there… in the
shadows.
It was as if a demon had plunged a
fist into Dan’s darkest nightmare and used what it found there to
breathe life into pure evil. Everything happened so fast, yet in
Dan’s mind an ocean of time was rolling slowly past. Part of him
wished his body would move faster, infuriated by the restrictions
of flesh and bone.
It can’t
be.
Denial was always his first line of
defence against something too horrible to accept. It followed a
familiar pattern; he’d experienced it with painful clarity when
fate had snatched his wife from him. But the problem with denial
was that eventually reality asserted itself, brushing aside the
inferior defence and stinging even more for the temporary
buffer.
The Raven was already
pressing his trigger. A ghastly expression contorted his face and
streamers of blood caked the corners of his eyes and the ridge of
his nose. It was like looking at a ghoul. He wore a black bandage
around his forehead but a glistening sheen of blood was visible
through the coarsely woven material. The assassin’s bullet had
penetrated his cranium and struck his computer but the solid frame
bracing the unyielding circuits had absorbed the impact and spared
his life. It’d given him the headache of the millennium and badly
damaged several circuits, but he’d survived. He’d then spent ten
hours reprogramming around the damage to get back online and become
semi-functional again. The impact had devastated large slathers of
his specially grafted nervous tissue and his processing capacity
was down to 13 percent. But that was plenty to make him
deadly.
Dan didn’t need to think.
It came naturally to him. It made sense that he should try to
protect Jen from the bullet. It was somehow fitting. Somehow
right.
He pushed her aside with
the same arm that loosed his Colt and bowled Jen to the ground in a
tangle of limbs that ultimately spelled doom for his own balance.
He then felt the round pierce his chest to the right of his sternum
and suffered an acidic burn when it detonated, shredding his flesh.
It wasn’t even particularly painful, not as bad as he’d expected
anyway. He’d taken steel bullets before, but never an explosive
glass round. The detonation wouldn’t cause the most damage. By the
time he pulled his own trigger, the nanotoxin payload was already
seeping into his bloodstream. He’d fired his second and third
rounds by the time he hit the ground and he’d grouped all three
rounds neatly on the Raven’s chest. His fourth round entered the
Raven’s skull near the bridge of his nose, finished what the other
bullets had started.
Dan’s first thought was
for Jen’s safety. “Are you okay?”
Jen nodded, too stunned
for speech.
Simon knelt by his side
and noticed the damage first. “Oh God, Dan, you’re
bleeding.”
Jen hadn’t yet noticed
and frantically searched Dan for wounds, soon spotting the dark red
blotch on his chest. It filled her with helpless panic.
He tried to brush them
away when they moved to examine the wound. “Don’t.”
“
Oh mate…”
Simon tried to keep his voice calm. “We’ve gotta get you to
hospital.”
He weakly shook his head.
“Don’t bother. It’s nanotoxin.”
Simon flinched, jerking
away so as not to contaminate himself. He looked closer and
recognised the telltale signs. Dan wasn’t going to die from blood
loss.
“
What?” Jen
mouthed without sound. She couldn’t understand why Simon was
pulling back. “We have to get him to a hospital.”
Simon ever so slightly
shook his head, unable to break the news with words.
Dan let the Colt slide
from his grip and reached for Jen’s panicky hands.
“Jen…”
“
No.” She
couldn’t stop the flow of tears; hearing him murmur her name was
too much.
It’s not fair… we’re so
close.
Perhaps that was the most painful
thing. She’d started to cherish thoughts of the future again and
allowed her hope to flourish. Now it was doomed to the weeds of
life, the only things capable of flourishing in the dark. And it
left a bitter taste in her mouth to mingle with the salty tears
running shamelessly down her cheeks.