The Nexus Series: Books 1-3 (11 page)

“See the dark
magnetic tape rolled inside?” said Holiday.  “For a time during the late
twentieth century, this was essentially the only way to personally store
video.”

Jill squinted at
the video tape.  “How did they store video on this thing?”

“The tape is full
of images.  A certain device would scroll through the tape and send the
images onto a screen, along with audio signals to match.”

“This is the
device here,” said Dino, patting the VCR Corey and Bradley had brought
in.  “You hooked this thing up to a television and put the videocassette
in this slot.  Of course, digital video discs pretty much totally replaced
videocassettes by the end of the twentieth century.”

“Why would anyone
want to use this old stuff?” asked Jill.

She realized she
knew the answer before Holiday said it.

“It’s analogue
data, Jillian; not digital.”

“So Sherlock
doesn’t know about it,” said Jill.

“Bingo,” said
Dino.

“Any form of data
storage which is inaccessible to Sherlock,” said Holiday, “could not have been
obtained legally, according to the Digital Information
Exclusivisation
Act.”

“So this thing
was smuggled here from the Home planet.”

Holiday
nodded.  “In this case, the videocassette and others like it were being
used to store illegal material.”

“Films banned by
the Anterran government,” said Dino.  “The guy was renting them out. 
Mr. Love, he calls himself.”

“That’s the least
of our worries,” said Holiday.  “Those videocassettes can record new data. 
Criminals who are interested in much more than bootlegged films could make good
use of them—contacting each other, exchanging plans, sending illegal
information, etcetera.  We have it on good authority that this Mr. Love
has been in contact with just such a criminal.”

Jill looked
puzzled.  “So you caught this guy even though Sherlock didn’t know about
him?”

“Corey Stone knew
about him,” said Holiday, “or at least, how to find him.  Corey used to be
an errander like you, Jillian.”

The realization
hit her.  “That’s why you need me.  You want me to go undercover.”

“At times,
yes.  You have connections in the Anterran criminal underground,
connections that will help us.  But you have more than that.”

“Like?”

Holiday looked
like he was trying not to smile.  “Like an uncanny ability to get in and
out of places without being caught.”

She
shrugged.  “You guys caught me.”

“We’re good at
what we do.  And you slipped through even our fingers, Jillian. 
Don’t be so modest.”

She thought of saying
it was Corey’s incompetence that allowed her to slip through their
fingers.  Then she decided not to.  Instead, she said:  “As of
this morning, I was still a criminal myself.  Now you want me to be one of
the good guys.  Isn’t that a little risky?”

“No,” said
Holiday.  “It’s extremely risky.  A risk well worth taking, I might
add.  If we didn’t think so, we wouldn’t have pursued you to the extent
that we did.”

“In other words
I’d be back in jail.”

“A distinct
possibility.  Perhaps, when you’ve been on a mission or two for us, jail
will seem rather more appealing.”

Jill thought he
may be right.  “What sort of missions?”

Dino pointed to
the videocassette.  “Finding and getting rid of stuff like that.”

“You see,
Jillian,” said Holiday, “it is a primary job of this department to keep
Sherlock’s information up- to-date.  That means tracking down any
information inaccessible to him, and combating the ever-growing problem of
illegal data storage.”

“So it’s a pretty
big problem?”

“And
growing.  Sherlock has been a well-kept secret for some time.  But
suspicion is growing.  The smartest criminals are starting to catch on to
the fact that their phone conversations are being listened to, their hard
drives being accessed, and so on.  Some are trying to use advanced
technological defenses—the latest firewalls, phone scramblers, and so on. 
But others have found a simpler and much more effective way of hiding from
Sherlock.”

“Reverting to old
technology—non-digital technology,” guessed Jill.

“Bingo again,”
said Dino.  He took the videocassette back from Jill.  “Sherlock
doesn’t know what’s on this thing.  We had to go out and get a hold of it
ourselves.”

“We have reason
to believe,” said Holiday, “that a sector of our city’s criminal underground is
trying to create a vast communications network using outdated technology. 
Our department will be handicapped if they succeed.  Corey’s task force is
being assembled to see to it that they don’t.”

Great.  She
would be working with Corey.  They’d have to find a way to make up. 
Or at least be civil with each other.  “Sounds kind of scary,” she said,
meaning more than just having to get along with Corey.

“It most
certainly is.”

“Downright
dangerous, even.”

“At times,
absolutely.”

“But then I’m
used to that, right?”

Holiday chuckled. 
“Welcome to our team, Jillian.”  He led the way back out of the lab. 
“Let me show you to your room.”

“My...room?”

“Certainly. 
Along with your salary, the unwitting taxpayers of Anterra are also providing
you with room and board.  This way.”

13

HE
led her back to the elevator lobby and down a gently curving hallway opposite
his office.  The hallway had the same midnight blue carpet and black walls
with cityscapes.

They walked in
silence.  For the first time, everything was starting to sink in. 
This was really happening.  She’d really broken into GoCom.  She was
really here.  She was really joining a secret government department. 
It wasn’t at all like she thought it would be.  It was...better, in a
way.  This was pretty cool work they would be having her do.  It
wasn’t the sort of work you would expect to be doing in place of jail
time.  And her room and board was being provided too?  It seemed too
good to be true.

She wasn’t quite
sure how to take it.

The hall emptied
down a wide staircase into a large room.  “The lounge,” Holiday gestured.

It was
nice.  There were several clusters of couches and chairs, potted plants
here and there, three big TVs, game tables, and a couple bookshelves.  Above
this was a spacious loft with a kitchen and dining area.  On either side
of the lounge, sliding doors and balconies overlooked the room.  A few
people were hanging out in the room now, playing video games, reading,
chatting, snacking, shooting pool.  None of them appeared to be much older
than Jill.  Several were obviously a little younger.

Holiday cleared
his throat from the top of the stairs.  “Allow me to introduce Jillian
Branch,” he announced.

They waved and
smiled.  A few called her by name when they said hi.

It wasn’t a big
deal, right?  Just a greeting, like the director had asked for.  So
where did that lump in Jill’s throat come from?  Maybe it was the fact
that she wasn’t used to people caring when she came or went.  Maybe it was
the fact that pretty much no one ever called her by her real name.

She could get
used to that.

One of the girls
actually jumped up from a couch and ran up the stairs to greet Jill more
personally.  She had short, wild hair and more piercings than almost
everyone else in the room combined.  “So, you’re finally here!” she
burst.  Now she was throwing her arms around Jill.  It was
unexpected, that was for sure.  But it was welcoming.

“This is Desiree
Mason,” said Holiday, “one of our technical specialists.”  He rolled his eyes. 
“She’s a bit shy, but once you get to know her she opens up.”

The girl giggled
embarrassedly.  “Sorry.  I get a little...um, overexcited
sometimes.”  She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if the director
wouldn’t hear her:  “Please don’t ever
ever
ever
call me Desiree.  It’s
Dizzie
. 
Really great to have you here, Jill!”

Jill tried to
breathe while she looked around at Holiday, Dizzie, the lounge...“Thanks,” she
said with a swallow.

“I’ll let Desiree
show you to your room, if she doesn’t mind.”

“Sure,” Dizzie
said enthusiastically.  Enthusiasm seemed to be her most prominent
characteristic.

“Take the rest of
the day to settle in, Jillian,” said the director.  “Be at conference room
D tomorrow morning at eight o’clock—that’s on the west side of HQ.  You
and another new recruit will begin your official orientation at that time.”

DIZZIE
led Jill up some stairs to one side of the lounge, and along another hallway to
the girls’ dormitory.  On one side of the hallway was a long, tiled
bathroom and shower room.  The other side was lined with doors.  They
passed one door with a guitar-shaped sign that said “Dizzie” in flowery pink
writing.

“Hey, we’re
gonna
be neighbors!” said Dizzie.  She opened the next
door, and Jill followed her inside.

The room was small
but cozy.  It had a few simple furnishings—a dresser, a desk, a loft bed,
and a small closet bathroom.

“Oh, by the way,
your things are on their way,” Dizzie told her.

“My things?”

“Yeah, you know,
your clothes and stuff.”

“On their way?”

“Yeah.  It
took a little while to find your new apartment, but we finally did.  I
helped!”  She smiled proudly, then gasped.  “Sorry.  That
probably sounds a little creepy, like I was stalking you or something.”

“Don’t worry
about it.  Just doing your job, I guess.  So...how do you like it?”

“Like, being here
and everything?  Oh, it’s the best!”

“Technical
specialist, huh?”

“Uh-huh. 
Basically I do computers—tap records, keep you guys in communication with HQ
while you’re on missions, stuff like that.”

“Us guys?”

“Yeah, field
agents.  That’s what you are.  You’re the ones that go out and do the
dirty work—the real action.  Sometimes I envy you people.  But hey, I
love what I do, and I’m good at it.”

“Is that why
they, you know, brought you in?”

Dizzie
nodded.  “I did some serious hacking in my day.  I was in pretty deep
trouble.  I got here like a year ago.  Best year of my life!”

“Corey Stone—he’s
a field agent too?  We’ll be working together?”

Dizzie cleared
her throat.  “Um, yeah.  Hey, I know things have gotten off to a...a
rocky start with you two, I guess you could say.”

“You could say,”
Jill muttered.

“He’s a good
guy.  Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Tell him the
same for me.  He doesn’t want me here.”

“Well, can you
blame him?  Look, don’t worry about Cor, he’s all right.  You two
will patch things up eventually.”

“I hope
so.”  She found herself meaning it as she said it.

“Listen, I
gotta
get ready to head over to HQ.  My shift starts
in a few.  I’ll let you settle in a little.  But if you need anything
before I’m gone, just come on over next door, cool?”

Jill
nodded.  “Thanks a lot, Dizzie.”

“No
problem.  And just let me know if you want me to turn my music down a
little.  I won’t mind.  Really.  I tend to crank it a bit too
much.  Mandy, my neighbor on the other side—she tells me to quiet down all
the time!”  Dizzie smiled and waved before disappearing out the door.

She popped back
in half a second later.  “Oh, and Mandy and I are making macaroni and
cheese in the dorm kitchen tonight.  We like to do that sometimes to avoid
the cafeteria food.  About seven o’clock or so, that’s when we’ll be on
break.  You should join us!”

“That sounds
great.”

Dizzie smiled and
disappeared again.

As predicted, the
muffled din of loud, thumping music was soon emanating from the other side of
the wall.

Jill sat on her
bed and looked around the room.

Her
room.

So,
so
surreal.

She had to be
dreaming.  Any second now she’d wake up and realize that she was still
just an errander with no friends, no home but a lonely apartment she was rarely
at, no parents, no family.

No purpose.

She stepped out
of the sliding glass door at the back of her room.  There was a small
balcony overlooking the lounge.  The guys shooting pool down below were
talking some good-natured trash.  The video gamers were shouting about an
impressive kill someone had made.  The girls chatting in the dining area
were making tea and laughing ridiculously hard about something.

There was another
row of balconies above her, apparently for the second floor rooms.  More
balconies with sliding doors lined the wall across the lounge from her. 
The guys’ dorms, Jill assumed.  Behind one of those curtained glass doors
was Corey Stone’s room.

Maybe Dizzie was
right.  Maybe they would smooth things out.

Jill glanced over
at Dizzie’s balcony next to hers.  It had a hammock, several flower pots,
and a stand with a bright pink electric guitar.  She could hear Dizzie
singing along with the music in her room as she got ready for work.

Macaroni and
cheese sounded delicious.  When was the last time Jill had had dinner with
someone?

It seemed silly
when she thought about it, but Jill couldn’t shake the feeling that she had
just come home.

SOMEONE
was waiting for Holiday when he got back to his office:  Riley, the big,
bald Home Planet Liaison.  He wasn’t happy.  Then again, when was he
ever?

“I warned you
about this girl, Holiday.”

“Yes, I remember
that.  I admire you for coming down to admit how wrong you were.”

“Excuse me? 
Do you realize what’s going on up there?”

“Chaos? 
Pandemonium?  Mayhem?  I can think of another synonym or two.”

“We’ll be
spending weeks reprogramming each and every employee’s ID.  You don’t seem
to think it’s a problem.”

“A problem,
yes.  My problem, no.”

“You’re the one
who suggested that
Miss Branch
,” he spat her name like it left a bad
taste in his mouth, “try to break into GoCom, which she has done.  Are you
unwilling to accept any responsibility?”

“As I recall, you
seemed quite sure she would never succeed.”

Riley’s lips
quivered.  “I know you’ve got her down here somewhere, Holiday.  I
demand that you turn her over to me.”

Holiday shook his
head sadly.  “When will you learn to stop making demands which you have no
authorization to make?”

“Give her to
security, then.”

“They had their
chance to nab her, and they missed it.  I’m afraid I don’t feel
responsible for their failure, as you apparently think I ought to.”

“You seem to be
admitting that Miss Branch is down here.”

“You know the
rules of our department, Riley.  I reserve the right to recruit people
like her.  Their services for Anterra shall be considered their sentence,
should they agree.  If she’s here, she has a perfect right to be—which is
more than I can say for you.  Please be careful not to let the door hit
you as leave, presently.”

Riley tried to
force his tight facial features into an angry expression.  “The United
Space Programs will hear about this, Holiday!  I’ll be speaking to them
before the night is over.”

“And I’m sure
they’ll be rapt with attention, as they always are when you call them up.”

Holiday was
smiling to himself as Riley left.

Riley wasn’t.

SHE
was dreaming again.

The same dream.

A face was
looking at her—a beautiful Korean face.

“We can do this,
Jillian.”

Fifteen-year-old
Jillian didn’t answer.

“Come on, it’s
not so bad, is it?  Are you ashamed to be working with your mother?”

Yes
, Jill
thought.  “No,” Jill said.

“Then let’s do
this!”

They stood at an
abandoned pier on the north shore of the lake.  The water rippled behind
her mother, reflecting the lights of the city.

Her mother got into
a motor boat.

Jill got into
another one.

“Good luck!”
called her mother.

Jill didn’t
respond.

She wished she
would have.  She couldn’t begin to describe how much she wished she would
have.  They would have been the last words she ever spoke to her mother.

APPARENTLY
the bed in Jill’s room was comfortable.  She vaguely remembered lying on
it to see how it felt, but she didn’t remember falling asleep.  Apparently
she had because now she was waking up.  Laughter from the lounge drifted
through her balcony door and woke her.

Jill wasn’t used
to drifting off to sleep.  In her line of work you didn’t sleep very
easily until exhaustion caught up with you.  And even then you slept “with
one eye open,” as they said—several locks on the doors and windows, a gun under
the pillow, waking instinctively at the slightest sound.

In her
former
line of work.

She stayed on the
bed, listening to the sounds of conversation coming through the open sliding
glass door.  She couldn’t make out any words.  But she could hear the
light-heartedness, the contentment in the voices.  It was peaceful just to
lie there and listen.

Peaceful. 
That was the perfect word for this place.  It had already sent her
dreaming, made her let her guard down.  At first she criticized herself
for letting her guard down.  Then she felt glad that she could.

Another voice
joined the others down in the lounge.  She recognized this voice—Corey
Stone.

Suddenly things
didn’t feel quite as peaceful anymore.