Legacy of a Mad Scientist (24 page)

Ana knew that she existed both inside the machine and
in her own body; she could feel it. The glasses kept her connected
and prevented neural spillage or overlaps. As the cat, she raised
her head, stretched her neck and yawned.

Ana had wondered about the number of couches through
the lab.
How many units had Te sold?
It may be a lab, but
this was also clearly a show room. Perhaps this was a viewing
platform, for sport.

“The muscles are composed of electrical fibers,”
Doctor Te said. “Once current is applied, they contract. The heart
is a kinetic-generator, of my own design. Energy greater than that
expended is harvested from every movement, it’s like a watch that
winds itself. Even the lungs, the act of breathing serves several
functions.

“In addition to the kinetic energy, the cat’s senses
are about a million times sharper than anything nature ever
invented. In terms of the visual spectrum, you can see and focus at
a distance and at levels of magnification that far exceeding
anything on the cyber-market.”

“It’s amazing,” Ana said. “I feel like I’m a cat. I
AM the cat.”

“Yes, indeed, you are, but it’s going to take at
least a week before you can really pass for a cat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Learning the animal’s body, the way it would
naturally move… It will take some getting used to.”

“A week, you really think so?” she asked.

“Maybe more.”

The cat stood and took a trembling step forward with
one paw.

Doctor Te laughed. “Once Fox and I did all that
Centaur mind-mapping, it was really quite easy. If it hadn't been
for the tanks, we never could have done it. I say we, because, even
though he was halfway around the world, this is as much Fox’s
success as mine. All we needed was a couple of more years of
research and development, but the government rushed forward, and
killed
all those people.”

“And so this cat, this is what Croswell sent me out
here for? Nice.”

“This arises, that becomes.” Te said, embracing her
blatant evasion.

“The bones are terillium?” Ana asked, as the cat
hopped up and down.

Te smiled. “The alloy frames are where it’s at. Pure
terillium is far too expensive. This mix still holds a charge, and
she has a few internal gravity plates and internal phase-cam.
However, running them together causes her to heat up like nobodies
business, I don’t recommend it.”

“Okay, that’s something to be aware of,” Snow
said.

”Look at it this way, she’s designed to be invisible
without running the phase cam. And she can move almost silently
when you want to run it indoors, or in other close quarters
environments. She’s light tight and compact, powerful enough to
handle multiple armed aggressors, There’s just no improving on
Mother Nature’s design.”

“Did you include any defensive upgrades?”

“One or two, tooth and claw sort of thing. You’ll get
to know them over time. She can also carry several of the smaller,
short-range, models.”

“Ahhh, the bugs?”

“I just finished the flea. He can jump three miles,
on a windy day.”

Ana laughed.

“Does it know me? Will it recognize me as an
operator?”

“What do you mean, recognize you?” he asked,
puzzled.

“Does it save me in the cache?”

“No. It records operations, but not you. Yet, it
can’t operate without you connected, so…”

“You said I don’t have to be focused on it.”

“No, you don’t. How do I explain this? Your
decision-making ability resides with you, your collection of
experiences and opinions, from which you form values. The glasses
scan your conscious mind and then project that consciousness into
the cat. When you disconnect, it shuts down. It can’t clone your
mind, it just mirrors it.”

“But it’s me in there. I’m doing it.”

“It’s you,” Doctor Te said.

“And what’s with all these couches?”

“It’s an appointment only shop, if that’s what you’re
asking. I provide intelligence services, as I always have, not
sales.”

“And these guys won’t exactly run off and join the
competition.”

“I never expected you to stay forever, Anastasia.”
Dr. Te smiled.

Ana got up from the couch and sat next to Lao; giving
him a big hug. “It’s good to see you,” she said.

“Where do you think he is then?” He asked.

“Fox? Oh, Stanwood took him, I’m sure. Out in the
desert somewhere, that seems to be the consensus.”

“But why?” Doctor Te asked.

“It’s the easiest place to hold him away from
Terillium deposits. They can scan in all directions at once, sort
of thing. “

“Why did they take him at all?”

“Stanwood thinks Fox is a menace to society. And he
might be onto something there.” Ana smiled, “Remember that little
chat the two of you had the other day?”

Te nodded.

“Well, a couple of hours later the Epsilon Facility
went Boom. They think Fox did it.”

“And they sent you here to keep an eye on me?”

“No. I think they did it because they want the hell
out of Dodge; afraid I’ll set the town on fire. Probably some truth
and a bit of wisdom to that too.”

“You’re not worried?” Te asked.

“About Andrew? No. Whoever took him had better be all
caught up on their prayers though.”

“About us?”

“Ha.” Ana smiled, “I’m not worried.”

“The desert, the desert…” Doctor Te scratched his
head. “Yes, that makes sense. Let me get the light coat for
Sabor.”

Thursday, July 9, 2038

It was Bravo team’s shift. That meant they were
required to be active and awake. The computer-linked cameras
monitored the Fox residence; the agents running them would hear the
automatic alerts at the exact same moment they informed Stanwood,
Miller and Dunkirk.

King and the rest of Bravo team sat around the dining
room table, playing spades. Alpha team was racked out in the other
rooms, enjoying an early afternoon siesta.

King’s partner, Washington, passed the cards to
Welter on his right, who cut the deck. Washington began to
deal.

“And no more table talk,” King said, smiling.

Next to him, Carl Di Biase picked up his cards,
thumbed through them and rubbed his chest.

Everyone laughed.

Deputy Director Von Kalt was on the patio, lying on a
lounge chair. An umbrella obscured the sun, but there was nothing
between him and his view of the quiet suburban canyon. He had a
bush hat over his face and the Metachron concealed in his right
palm, under the left, over his stomach.

The amplifier could do all kinds of cyber-magic.

Before the explosion at Epsilon, the techs had almost
finished their Micronix Operating Manual, replete with tutorials on
neural-cyber system management and signal segregation, as well as
detailed instructions on system intrusion and data-stream
interception. Entire advanced sections were dedicated to tele- and
pyrokinesis, as well several other amazing abilities. Von Kalt
spent hours reading the manual but refrained from trying
anything.

Deputy Director Rudolph Von Kalt found himself buried
in the avalanche of data that was Project Epsilon. Fox had reported
that all the records had been destroyed, but that was far from the
truth. The device gave him access to all of the case histories of
the prisoners and data recorded by the technicians. Every ability
and manifestation had been clinically documented and intimately
detailed.

After three days of studying, Von Kalt launched a
system intrusion on Johnson. He had only meant to test his new toy,
but the Metachron’s neural shims had no trouble worming their way
into the soldier’s thinly partitioned cyber-mind.

It was late in the afternoon; both teams were up and
about, preparing their evening meal. In less than a minute Von Kalt
had full motor and linguistic control. Just to prove he could, Von
Kalt walked the soldier from the residential interior, out onto and
off the back deck.

Staff Sergeant Johnson fell seventy-two feet and
broke both legs.

Retrieving his unconscious body would be easy enough.
Looking down at the unconscious staff sergeant from the balcony
railing, King volunteered to drive him to the nearest emergency
room, since Johnson was bravo team’s pilot.

Von Kalt did not want his first criminal act to be
logged into any official record and objected from his place on the
lounge chair. “Gentlemen, why don’t you take advantage of this
opportunity to practice a little field medicine? We’ve got a metric
shit-ton of blue goo here. Use it.”

“Isn’t that kind of extravagant for a broken leg,
sir?” Lt. Hernandez asked. “It’s gonna be hard to explain two
hundred thousand dollars. If there’s no rush, we can get him right
for like two grand.”

“And if our targets return while half of my second
team is absent? How do you suppose I’ll explain that?

“This is the part where I could insult you, to make
my point, but instead I’ll ask, have you ever done a medical scan
in the field?

“Have you ever administered two hundred thousand
dollars worth of healing gel? This might be good experience for
your record Lieutenant.

“Please try and be more selfishly predictable. It
makes your superiors’ job easier.”

Lieutenant Hernandez stood and walked from the knot
of soldiers around the staff sergeant. A minute late he’d returned
with the medical scanner two fat cartridges of blue goo.

A quick scan of Johnson’s prone body identified
fractures in both femurs as well as the left tibia and fibula, six
shattered metatarsals, and one splintered patella, Given the
injuries and the rocky ground, it figured that Johnson had
pin-wheeled after slipping from the balcony.

His forearms seemed to have protected his upper body,
which hit first. He legs, however, had taken the brunt of the fall,
slapping into the ground. Hernandez conceded the extent of the
damage would likely have taken two days of effort at any local
emergency unit.

He cracked the seal on the first goo canister and
inserted it into the mechanical hypodermic. Over the course of
twenty injections, Hernandez delivered the full volume of two
canisters. The healing gel did its job before the man awoke.

The soldiers watched, fascinated, as his legs kicked,
muscle spasms resetting bones as the synthetic stem cells rebuilt
the damaged tissue.

Von Kalt regretted the wasting of the expensive
healing compound, but it was replaceable. The lounging commander,
and now master cyber-criminal, was confident Johnson’s
unconsciousness had resulted from his forceful intrusion, but he’d
followed the protocols and scrubbed the man’s memory.

Johnson would remember walking over to the balcony
railing, taking a breath of fresh air, and then slipping.

The reclining Von Kalt remained in his lounge chair
as the staff sergeant, surrounded by his comrades, was finally
shaken back to life.

“You all right there, little buddy?” Di Biase asked.
“You took a bit of a tumble.”

Johnson stood, assisted by the others, and was led
back inside.

Von Kalt wasted no time moving in and out of his
subordinates systems. He didn’t again attempt to exercise
functional control, as that could not go undetected and would
require a
scrubbing
, but he did everything else. He scanned
all their personal accounts, incoming messages and contact
lists.

Everyone had some kind of internal augmentation. Of
course, none of them had internal delivery, like Von Kalt. They had
to activate one of the universal terminals, so the technology
implanted within them could communicate its latest updates and info
of interest.

This residence, like most, offered inset-terminals on
almost every flat piece of glass or countertop. Some had better
reception and better graphics than others, but the basics could be
accessed almost anywhere.

It had been years since the Department of Defense
really had to fear any dangerous cyber-criminals, but Von Kalt knew
that statistic couldn’t stay low forever. If he took any more
control, if he did anything more than snoop, he’d have to do some
mind and memory scrubbing. That meant a period of unexplained
unconsciousness. Even these men were not stupid enough to remain
unfazed by a spell of contagious blackouts.

It was the power of the forty thousand, the power of
the convicted; Von Kalt held them in his palm. Fox would be no
match for him. He was no match for him. He’d already solved that
issue.

It was the knowledge of the other, the Micronix, the
device Pierce had taken. He had seen it there, at the Fuji Dozo
briefing. He had seen Pierce take it and go over the railing, as
Johnson had.

He had seen it.

When he went to the Fox home…

When he opened that drawer in the daughter’s
bedroom….

He had felt it.

He’d been holding the Metachron in his hand, so
clearly he could not have reached out and picked up the Micronix
with that hand.

Now, almost a week later, it occurred to him that he
had indeed seen the original prototype lying in the drawer in
Ashley’s dresser.

He had also seen the prototype in his hand.

For some reason, the dual image had scrubbed the
original from his mind. When he’d looked back to the drawer the
second time, the device had
Not
been there. It had only been
in his hand.

It only occurred to him now, a week later, that he
had two hands.

But even now, it hurt his mind to think of moving the
Metachron from his right hand into his left, in order to pick up
the Micronix.

It was named the Micronix. It could only be held in
his right, in his dominant hand.
But the Metachron was in his
right hand.

His mind knew, on some elemental level, the single
hand could not hold both the amplifiers. That, of all things, was
utterly impossible.